BLACK NOTICE. PATRICIA CORNWELL

“Where’s the waitress?”

I put my hand on Dorothy’s arm and we got up from the table. One thing was true about my sister: She had too much pride to cause a scene that didn’t make her look clever and appealing. I escorted her out into a dispirited night of darkened windows and fog.

“I’m not going home with you,” she announced, now that there was no one to hear. “And let go of my fucking arm.

She pulled in the direction of her hotel while I tugged her toward my car.

“You’re coming with me and we’re going to figure out what to do about Lucy.”

“I saw her earlier at the hospital,” she said.

I put her in the passenger’s side.

“She didn’t mention anything about you;” my oversensitive sister said.

I got in and locked the doors.

“Jo’s parents are very sweet,” she added as we drove off. “I was very taken aback that they didn’t know the truth about Lucy and Jo’s relationship.”

“What did you do? Tell them, Dorothy?”

“Not in so many words, but I suppose I implied certain things because I just assumed they knew. You know, it seems so odd to see a skyline like this when you’re used to Miami.”

I wanted to slap her.

“Anyway, after talking with the Sanderses for a while, I came to realize they’re the Jerry Falwell type and weren’t about to condone a lesbian relationship.”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that word:”

“Well, that’s what they are. Descended from the Amazon types on the island of Lesbos in tile Aegean Sea, off the coast of Turkey. Turkish women have so much hair. You ever noticed?”

“You ever heard of Sappho?”

“Of course I’ve heard of him,” Dorothy said.

“She was a Lesbian because she lived on Lesbos. She was one of the greatest lyric poets in antiquity.”

“Ha. Nothing poetic about some of these body-pierced, stocky hockey players I see. And of course, the Sanderses didn’t come right out and say they thought Lucy and Jo were lesbians. Their reasoning was Jo had been horribly traumatized, and to see Lucy would bring it all back. It was too- soon. They were quite emphatic in a very nice way, and when Lucy showed up, they were very kind and sympathetic when they told her.”

I passed through the toll plaza.

“Unfortunately, you know how Lucy is. She challenged them. She said she didn’t believe them, and got pretty loud and rude. I explained to the Sanderses that she was just very upset after all she’d been through. They were very patient and said they’d pray for her, and next thing I knew a nurse told Lucy she had to leave.

“She stormed out,” my sister said. She looked over at me to add, “Of course, mad at you or not, she’ll come looking for you, just like she always does.”

“How could you do that to her?” I asked. “How could you get between her and Jo? What kind of person are you?”

Dorothy was taken aback. I could feel her bristle.

“You’ve always been so jealous of me because you’re not her mother,” she answered.

I turned off on the Meadow Street exit instead of keeping on toward home.

“Why don’t we just settle this once and for all,” Dorothy and her stingers said. “You’re nothing but a machine, a computer, one of those high-tech instruments you love so much. And one has to ask what’s wrong with a person who chooses to spend all her time with dead people. Refrigerated, stinky, rotting dead people, most of them low-lifes to begin with.”

I got on the Downtown Expressway again, heading back downtown.

“Versus me, I believe in relationships. I spend my time in creative pursuits, in reflection and relationships, and I believe our bodies are our temples and we should take care of them and be proud of them. Look at you.” She paused for effect. “You smoke, you drink, you don’t even belong to a gym, I bet. Don’t ask me why you’re not fat and flabby, unless it’s cutting through all those ribs and running around crime scenes or being on your feet all day in a goddamn morgue. But let’s get to what the worst thing is.”