Free 07 Seven Up by Janet Evanovich

all this yelling going on behind her.”
    “Who was yelling?”
    “I think it must have been the television. Valerie and Steven never yell. Those two are just the perfect couple. And the girls are such perfect little ladies.”
    Gag me with a spoon.
    “Did she want me to call her back?” my mother asked.
    “She didn't say. Something happened and we got cut off.”
    Grandma sat up straighter in her seat. She had a clear view through the living room to the street, and something caught her attention.
    “There's a taxi stopping in front of our house,” Grandma said.
    Everyone craned their neck to see the taxi. In the Burg a taxi stopping in front of a house is big entertainment.
    “For goodness sakes!” Grandma said. “I could swear that's Valerie getting out of the taxi.”
    We all jumped up and went to the door. Next thing, my sister and her kids swooped into the house.
    Valerie is two years older than me and an inch shorter. We both have curly brown hair, but Valerie's dyed her hair blond and has it cut short, like Meg Ryan. I guess that's what they do with hair in California.
    When we were kids Valerie was vanilla pudding, good grades, and clean white sneakers. And I was chocolate cake, the dog ate my homework, and skinned knees.
    Valerie was married right out of college and immediately got pregnant. Truth is, I'm jealous. I got married and immediately got divorced. Of course I married a womanizing idiot, and Valerie married a really nice guy. Leave it to Valerie to find Mr. Perfect.
    My nieces look a lot like Valerie before Valerie did the Meg Ryan thing. Curly brown hair, big brown eyes, skin a shade more Italian than mine. Not much Hungarian made it to Valerie's gene pool. And even less trickled down to her daughters, Angie and Mary Alice. Angie is nine, going on forty. And Mary Alice thinks she's a horse.
    My mother was flushed and teary, hormones revved, hugging the kids, kissing Valerie. “I don't believe it,” she kept saying. “I don't believe it! This is such a surprise. I had no idea you were coming to visit.”
    “I called,” Valerie said. “Didn't Grandma tell you?”
    “I couldn't hear what you were saying,” Grandma said. “There was so much noise, and then we got cut off.”
    “Well, here I am,” Valerie said.
    “Just in time for dinner,” my mother said. “I have a nice pot roast and there's cake for dessert.”
    We scrambled to add chairs and plates and extra glasses. We all sat down and passed the pot roast and potatoes and green beans. The dinner immediately elevated to a party, the house feeling filled with holiday.
    “How long will you be staying with us?” my mother asked.
    “Until I can save up enough money to buy a house,” Valerie said.
    My father's face went pale.
    My mother was elated. “You're moving back to New Jersey?”
    Valerie selected a single, lean piece of beef. “It seemed like the best thing to do.”
    “Did Steve get a transfer?” my mother asked.
    “Steve isn't coming.” Valerie surgically removed the one smidgen of fat that clung to her meat. “Steve left me.”
    So much for the holiday.
    Morelli was the only one who didn't drop his fork. I glanced over at Morelli and decided he was working hard at not smiling.
    “Well, isn't this a pisser,” Grandma said.
    “Left you,” my mother repeated. “What do you mean, he left you? You and Steve are perfect together.”
    “I thought so, too. I don't know what went wrong. I thought everything was just fine between us and then poof, he's gone.”
    “Poof?” Grandma said.
    “Just like that,” Valerie answered. “Poof.” She bit into her lower lip to keep it from trembling.
    My mother and father and grandmother and I panicked at the trembling lip. We didn't do this sort of emotional display. We did temper and sarcasm. Anything beyond temper and sarcasm was virgin territory. And we certainly didn't know what to make of this from Valerie. Valerie is the ice queen. Not to mention that Valerie's life has