I feel like I’m walking in quicksand. I’m sinking deeper and deeper into La Flor’s world. Yesterday, La Flor told me her resume matched up perfectly with a job opening working for Big Carmen in his “other” business. You know about his “other” business. She invited me to work for Big Carmen. I passed, again. I hired a plumber to unclog my toilet after O’Leary stopped by to use it. I didn’t realize donuts had that much fiber. My front door is back on its hinges. I hope LC remembers to use the nob instead of his shoulder the next time he opens it. I’m going to talk La Flor out of working for Big Carmen. Let’s see how it goes.

La Flor and LC were out late last night, they’re sleeping in this morning. The house is quiet, until I hear, “LC, please get me a cup of coffee. I can smell it. Ray must have made it for me.”

Huh?

LC walked out of the bedroom in his pajama bottoms, hairy chest, disheveled hear, rubbing his eyes. It’s not his best look. He sees me, “Ray-mo is dis what they calls da break of day?”

I ignored his question. I already have La Flor’s coffee in her favorite mug, the one with her image on the side, “It’s over there, LC. Do you have a hangover?”

LC pretended as he didn’t hear me. He walked over to the coffee maker and grabbed hold of La Flor’s coffee cup, “Do use tinks, my beautiful, tough, and edgy woman will notice if I takes a sippy?”

“What do you think, LC? I’m not helping you if you do,” I said.

“Geez, can I has a sippy of yours?” said LC.

LC took my cup and walked back to the bedroom. A moment later LC reappeared, “Ray-mo, use got any bagels left? I got to toast one, spread cream cheese on it, cut it into fourths, and brings it with a nappy to my beautiful, tough, and edgy woman.”

“Yes, there are two bagels left, I was saving one for …”

“Me? Tanks. I won’t forgets dis,” said LC.

Dear reader, do you think this is a one time occurrence? I think not. It happens at least five times a week. LC is getting in shape running back and forth from the bedroom waiting on La Flor. He doesn’t seem to mind. A hour later, La Flor makes her entrance. I’ll rephrase that, the queen makes her entrance. Not a hair out of place, makeup perfectly applied, clothes and attitude – casual chic.

“La Flor, we need to talk. You can’t work for Big Carmen,” I said.

“Ray, Ray, Ray. You are the epitome of  jealousy. You cringe when others are successful. You envy brilliant minds like Big Carmen’s and mine. You become so insecure when our shadows fall upon you.”

So much for a dialogue this morning.

“You’ve accepted the job? Do you know what this means? Are you ready to face the consequences?”

“Those are the wrong questions, Ray. You should ask, “Can I throw a party for you for being so successful? That would be good for starters.”

“Let’s have a civil discussion, La Flor. What will you be doing?” I asked.

“It’s under negotiations. One possibility is to be wheelman?”

“Wheelman? Do you know what a wheelman is?”

“Ray, I was born on the weekend, I’m not sure which one. Can you help me here. Another possibility is connoisseur of acquired property, especially jewelry. And, there’s a third option, it’s my fav,” said La Flor.

“Which is?” I asked.

“Teaming with LC so the Feds and local police don’t get too interested.”

“Did use call me, beautiful, tough, and edgy one? What does use need? I am at use beck and call. I am use dog and pony show. I am use gopher. What use wants, considers it done.”

“I see your teamwork is already paying off,” I said.

“Listen, Ray. I’m only going to say this to you. I want you to go with LC and me tonight. We’re going to case Francine Peony’s mansion.”

“Francine Peony, the famous writer? She’s always on the talk shows. Your going rob her place?”

“No. Big Carmen acquired an invitation to her party so the three of us can go. You can help us take notes of her jewelry, paintings, and other expensive items and report to Big Carmen.”

“You can’t do that,” I said.

“Francine is the snob’s snob. A little humility will be good for her. Now don’t say a word.”

Before I can speak, “Open up, it’s the police.”

“LC, let O’Leary in,” I said.

O’Leary comes in carrying a cup of to go coffee and a bag from MacDonald’s. “I’m on break. I don’t like to eat alone, so’s I taught I’d stop by.”

“Is that a happy meal?” I said.

O’Leary nods. “I skip the donuts today to keep my weight down. I like to keep my snacks light so’s I can keep trim and fit.”

I can’t see his belt. His belly is smothering it.

“Before I sits down. I’m going to turn around. Tell me if use can see my wire.”

“You’re wired,” I said.

“You betcha.”

“Who you after?” I asked, worried it was someone in the house.

“I’m not quite sure, but when I find them, I’ll know.” O’Leary turned around.

I said, “This is not police department issue. You going rogue?”

“How did you know?” asked O’Leary.

“You’re wearing the wire on the outside of your coat.”

Oh my. What’s going to happen at Francine Peon’s party? Come by tomorrow to find out.

By Ray Calabrese

I am an optimistic, can do, and never quit guy. The spirit of hope indelibly marks my DNA. My research at The Ohio State University helped people discover the best in themselves and change their personal lives, public organizations, and whole communities. I bring the same spirit and enthusiasm to my blog to help those who grieve who find themselves suddenly alone, navigate their grieving. Join my more than 24,300Twitter (@alwaysgoodstuff). I promise my tweets are always good stuff. Please feel free to email me at ray.brese@gmail.com.

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