Betrayed (Rosato & DiNunzio, #2)(33)

“Anyway, grown-ups play basketball. What do you think the NBA is?”

“That’s not the point.” Judy yanked open her purse, retrieved her wallet, and found her credit card. “You need to take care of yourself better. You need to think of yourself.”

“That’s selfish.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is. They needed me.”

“I needed you, too, Frank,” Judy said, her voice catching. She slid out her VISA card and gave the car some gas. She still couldn’t meet his eye.

“What did you need me for? Why?”

“Lots of reasons.” Judy hesitated to tell him, not wanting to make him feel guilty, which was ridiculous. He was in the wrong, so he should feel guilty about it, but she had trained him to think she didn’t need him. She steered to the booth, where she handed her credit card and ticket to an older man behind the thick, smudged glass. “Here we go, sir.”

“Like what, babe? What did you need me for?”

“I was in Kennett because Aunt Barb has breast cancer. She’s having a mastectomy tomorrow morning. My mom is already there, with her.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry.” Frank sounded genuinely shocked, and Judy felt her chest tighten.

“I know, and it’s terrible for her.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“I hope so.”

“I’m sure she will.”

“It’s stage II, Frank. Not everybody gets better.”

“She will.” Frank patted her hand on the stick shift, and Judy glanced over. His eyes looked pained, if unfocused, but he seemed suddenly pale under his grizzly stubble.

“You okay?”

“I don’t feel so good. My stomach.”

Judy wanted to explain about the chemo and Iris’s death, but he was too sick to listen. “So, just rest. We’ll be home soon.”

“Okay, I think I need to.” Frank leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry about Barb, but she’s a strong woman, like you. She’ll be okay, I know it. Don’t worry.”

“I’m sure she will be,” Judy said, but she didn’t believe her own words. She took her credit card back from the cashier, steered out of the lot, and motored onto Seventh, where she stopped at the traffic light. It had just turned green when her phone rang in her pocket, and she pulled it out quickly. The screen showed a photo of a grinning Mary, and Judy hit a button to talk, but kept her voice low. “Hi Mare, I’m driving.”

“Okay, I won’t keep you. Did you decide about the cases?”

“What cases?” Judy felt suddenly teary at the sound of Mary’s voice.

“The damages trials.”

“Arg. I haven’t had a chance. Sorry. Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Fine, but what’s the matter? You don’t sound good.”

“It’s not me. It’s my aunt Barb. She has cancer.”

“No! Not Aunt Barb!”

“I know. She’s having a mastectomy tomorrow.” Judy still found it hard to say. “We’re trying to be optimistic. She’s optimistic.”

“Oh God. I’ll say a prayer and so will my mom.”

“Thanks,” Judy said, but she didn’t know if prayer helped. She wished she had Mary’s faith. She wished she had anybody’s faith. She could use a credible God, right about now.

“What can I do?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

“Where are you now?”

“Back in the city, heading home.”

“I’m at the office. I can be there in five minutes. We can hang.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

“So is that why your mom came in?”

“Yes, I was in Kennett Square until today.”

“Oh no. Poor Barb. She’s so nice. You sure you don’t need help?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Take the time off if you need to, this week. I’ll cover your desk. You’re not in court or anything, are you?”

“I’ll be in tomorrow. I have a deposition in the morning.”

“Judy, don’t. Cancel it. Take the day off. Go be with Barb and your mom.”

“I wanted to, but they told me to go to work. I’ll see them on Monday afternoon, after the dep.” Judy glanced at Frank, who had fallen asleep, his head bobbing as they drove over the cobblestones in the historic section of the city. She braked slightly, slowing the car so he wouldn’t wake up. “I should go, I just picked Frank up at the ER. He reinjured his hand, playing basketball.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Apparently he’s in the NBA.”

Mary snorted. “I guess he can’t wash the dog now.”

“Bingo. It’s all part of his plan, no doubt.” Judy had completely forgotten about the dog, who probably needed to be walked, too. “So I’ll be doing flea laundry all night, and I think I’m out of Wisk. Whatever. Gotta go, okay?”

“Okay. Sure. Bye.”

“Bye.” Judy hung up, pressing the screen to end the call, then steered the rest of the way home, trying to sort out her emotions. She hated to think of the chores that lay ahead tonight, washing the dog, vacuuming the rugs, and doing the laundry. She had no idea how she’d get the time to go back for Frank’s truck. Even so, she knew that worrying about mundane tasks was easier than worrying about her Aunt Barb, Iris, or her mother, but by the time she reached their street, her heart was nonetheless heavy.