The Axeman's Jazz

to have forgotten his mission. “Now you come on in and I’ll fix you some iced coffee or somethin’. Sho’ is hot out here, ain’t it?”
    “Sure is,” said Skip. “Wonder why that is?”
    “We gotta get those rocks back on the moon.”
    She led Lamar up the walk to his house, walking past Alex and Di, who had started to give chase, but stopped when they saw Skip. Following Lamar’s lead, she ignored them, giving him her full attention and wondering why he’d taken a fancy to her.
    But there were more important things to figure out—like what she was going to tell Alex she was doing here, and how to extricate herself in time to keep Di in sight.
    As she chatted aimlessly with Lamar, an idea came to her: a plan that made losing Di for a bit worthwhile.
    “You know what?” said Lamar. “You remind me of my ex-wife.”
    Di and Alex stared speechless after Skip and Lamar.
    Finally Di said, “What’s she doing here?”
    “Who cares? What did she do to him? Hit him with a nice stick?”
    “Nightstick?”
    “Forget it. Listen, what do you think?”
    “I think your dad’s a case and a half.”
    “Yeah, well, so do the neighbors. The question is, is he demented or just mean as hell?”
    “Does he get depressed?”
    “Depressed! How would I know? Think the old fart’s going to come complaining to me?”
    She shook her head in bewilderment. “He’s really a case.”
    “Well, you’re a lot of help.”
    “I’m sorry, Alex, I can’t do miracles. Why don’t you take him to see somebody?”
    “I brought you to see him.”
    She started to get into her car. “Is he eating a lot of animal fat?”
    “Animal fat!”
    “Maybe you should try him on raw vegetables.”
    When Alex joined them, Lamar and Skip were sipping iced coffee at the yellow vinyl table, oblivious of the pernicious garbage smell.
    “ ’Bout time, lamebrain. I gotta clean up. Don’t know what Margaret’ll think of me.” To Skip he said, “Kid hogs the bathroom, what you gonna do?”
    And he left, docile as a doe.
    “Why does he like you so much?”
    “Probably thinks I’m going to arrest you. What was Di doing here, anyway?”
    “None of your business. What are you doing here?”
    “Well, uh … it’s not exactly police business. I mean, you still have the right to remain silent and everything, but you could also yell at me, I guess. It’s my mom.”
    “Your mom?”
    “Yeah. Her name’s Elizabeth and she’s a compulsive over-eater. She’s in Al-Anon too.”
    “Elizabeth! Well, well, well. I feel you and I are getting to know each other better and better.” He didn’t sit, but hovered over her.
    “You know her?”
    “Oh, yes.” He said it as if he’d been sleeping with her—at the very least fending her off. He’d probably make his own mother sound like a slut.
    “Well, she certainly knows you. She was a fan of yours before I was.”
    “Oh, shit.”
    “Don’t worry, she won’t blow your cover. She takes anonymity very seriously—as you might imagine, considering what a social climber she is. But maybe you don’t know about that.”
    “It figures.”
    “Anyway, she doesn’t know I know you, of course. And she was bragging about how she’d met you through the program—in fact had seen you around for a while and then finally connected your face with the one on your book jacket. Now I’m getting to the embarrassing part.”
    “Will I like it?”
    “Well, you’ll like seeing me squirm, anyway. See, she’s the original woman who has everything and her birthday’s coming up.”
    “You want me to sign a book? That’s all this is about?”
    “Uh … not exactly. She’s already got all your books. I was hoping you might sell me some silly memento.”
    “A torn T-shirt or something? I’m flattered, but I’m not Mick Jagger. I don’t exactly have a stash of souvenirs for fans. What did you have in mind?”
    Skip was so genuinely embarrassed by what she was doing that she felt herself flush. So much the better. No pain, no gain. “I don’t know. I thought maybe an old manuscript page or something. Maybe you could write a note on it.”
    “You’d pay money for that?”
    “Sure.”
    “I don’t know what kind of jerk you think I am…”
    “And you don’t want to.”
    “For God’s sake, I’ll give you a whole chapter. Whatever you want.”
    “Great.”
    “Something from
Fake It Till You Make It?”
    “Actually, she likes the earlier books better, if it’s not too much