Janet Evanovich - Full House

Billie inadvertently looked down at her foot. The swelling had gone down during the night, and it wasn't as sore, but it would take a while before the discoloration went away. "Yes, unfortunately, I have seen a horse up close."

Deedee followed Billie's eyes to the foot. "Eeyeuuw," she said, wincing. "What happened to your foot?"

"You know Zeke? The big brown horse with the attitude? He stepped on it."

"Oh, honey, that's worth a lawsuit. And Nick is so rich he wouldn't miss the money."

Billie tried to hide her amusement as she sipped her coffee. Deedee was obviously annoyed at Nick. "I don't think I could get very much. Nothing's broken."

"Gee, that's too bad."

Billie decided the woman had a strange way of looking at things. She wiggled her toes. "I hope it's better by next weekend. I paid for three polo lessons in advance."

"You're taking polo lessons? Are you one of those horse-crazy people?" She looked distressed. "Oh, geez, I hope you're not taking lessons just to get closer to Nick. There are a least three women in every class of his who want to marry him. Let me tell you, it's not worth it. I know Nick's handsome and charming and wealthy, but the man steps in poo, for God's sake. Horse droppings, you know? Who'd want to live with a man whose shoes always smell?"

Billie smiled. She was beginning to like Deedee. "Actually, I took a class for the exercise." That was only partially true, of course, but she wasn't ready to tell Deedee how much she wanted to impress her children.

"Exercise? Eeyeuuw, I hate exercise. It's easier if you don't eat."

"I can't afford to starve myself. I need energy."

"For what?"

"Well, I teach sixth grade all day, and then I come home and cook and clean and take care of my own two kids, and then after supper I iron or do lesson plans, and then I watch a little TV and go to bed."

Deedee's eyes opened wide. "You do all that? In one day?"

"Yes, but you see, I never get any real exercise. Pretty soon the cellulite will take over and my only alternative will be liposuction."

"Gross."

"Mmmm. Well, I'm going to whip myself into shape this summer. I've started jogging, too." Billie refilled their cups.

Deedee wrinkled her nose. "I tried that once, but I got sweaty. I hate to sweat."

Billie took a peek at Deedee over her coffee mug. "I don't mind sweating. I bought weights, too. And then I signed up for the polo lessons. I figured all that bouncing around would be great for my backside."

"Too bad you have to do it on a horse."

"I kind of like horses. At least I did before I met Zeke. I still have a lot to learn. Like how to mount and dismount."

"You want to learn how to mount? You've come to the right place, honey."

Billie was almost certain they weren't talking about the same thing. She watched Deedee sip her coffee. The woman had a great body. "You don't exercise at all?"

"I don't have to. Like I said, I don't eat. That's another thing about Nick. He eats all the time and never gets fat. After a while, you find yourself hoping he'll choke on his damn doughnut." Deedee sighed. "I haven't had a doughnut in five years. I figure I won't eat until I'm sixty-five, and then I'm going to let myself go. I'm going to eat boxes of candy, and fast food, and a ton of Twinkies."

"Sounds like a good plan to me."

Deedee swiveled in her seat and looked at her luggage in the hall. "I guess I should unpack. I don't suppose you have a housekeeper?"

Amazingly, the woman was serious. Billie shook her head. "I can't seem to keep good help these days." She limped to the foyer. Her foot was beginning to ache from being on it all morning. "I'll show you to the guest room. It's upstairs. Sorry I can't help you carry anything."

Deedee picked out a medium-sized suitcase. "I'll just take this one for now."

Once upstairs, Deedee stopped at the doorway to her bedroom. "Eeyeuuw, colonial. My bedroom is always French provincial. Don't you have any guest rooms that are French provincial?"

Billie was thankful for the patience she'd gained from teaching. "No. I'm not really a French provincial person."

Deedee dropped her suitcase on the bed. "Nick isn't, either. Once I redecorated his whole house. It was between my second and third marriages. No, wait, it was between my third and fourth." She waved her perfect ruby-red fingernails. "Anyway, I was staying with Nick for a while and he had to go off on a business trip, so I hired a decorator, and we worked overtime to have it finished before Nick got home." She sat down and tested the bed. "You should have seen the look on Nick's face. Megasurprise."

"Did he like it?" Billie already knew the answer.

"The man went berserk. Honestly, such a fuss over a few sticks of furniture. He has no taste." She opened the suitcase and looked petulant. "I thought I had my makeup in this one."

Billie cast a cursory glance at the bag. "Looks like lingerie."

"Damn." Deedee stomped off down the stairs, and began opening luggage. Finally she stood, hands on hips, and tossed her red hair over her shoulder. "It's not here. Nick must have left it with my shoes. He probably did it on purpose, knowing him."

"But you're wearing makeup."

Deedee shook her head. "This is my morning makeup. I have to change into afternoon makeup, and then when five o'clock rolls around I put on my evening makeup. There's a difference, you see."

"I would never have guessed, but I'm not exactly on the cutting edge when it comes to fashion and cosmetics." Billie's own makeup consisted of foundation, blush, and mascara.

"I'm an ex-beauty queen, honey. I had to learn these things at an early age."

"A beauty queen. No kidding."

"Won my first pageant when I was four years old. Went on to win—" She paused and her pretty brow furrowed in thought. "Oh, I have to stop doing that," she said, immediately raising her brows so the wrinkles disappeared. She smoothed her forehead with her fingers as though to wipe away all traces. "Anyway, I don't actually remember how many I've won, but you should see all my trophies." She hitched her chin proudly. "I know how to work an audience, bu-lieve-you-me."

Billie nodded. "I'm impressed."

"Which is why I need my makeup. I can't afford to let myself go." She sighed heavily. "I know Nick did this on purpose. First, he literally dragged me out of bed at dawn and ordered me to pack my clothes with the help of some field hand with the disposition of a troll. That didn't stop him from leering at me every chance he got, mind you. Then, if that weren't bad enough, Nick threw me and my designer luggage in the pickup he uses to haul hay and horse feed and only-God-knows-what. Are you believing this? I was literally traumatized by the whole thing." She paused and shuddered. "I would never have agreed to any of it had my little sports car not been in the shop. No telling when I'll get it back. That's the price you pay for driving foreign cars.

"I'll bet Nick's having a good laugh over it right now," she went on without stopping for air. "He knows damn well I can't do without my shoes. Why, I wouldn't think of walking out of this house without the right shoes. I need to borrow your telephone, honey. Nick either brings my stuff or I'm going to pitch a fit the likes of which this town has never seen."

Billie immediately reached for the portable wall phone and handed it to her. "Here," she said. There was something in Deedee's voice that told her the woman meant business, and Billie was in no mood for fit-pitching.

* * * * *

An hour later, Nick arrived with five cartons of shoes and three more pieces of luggage. "How's it going?" he asked Billie, making a special effort to keep his tone light.

She cocked an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you in the kitchen."