Free Hit and Nun by Peg Cochran

marriage.”
    “You should call my friend Melissa.” The one girl handed Lucille a piece of paper with a phone number and address on it. “Maybe she knows something.”
    Just then another nurse came out and called Lucille’s name. Lucille felt like she was going to the guillotine—her heart pounding and palms sweating—but before she knew it she was back in the Olds and roaring out of the parking lot.
    She figured she’d go over and visit this Melissa the receptionist had told her about. She couldn’t call her—she didn’t have one of them cell phones. The one Frankie got her fell in the toilet, and she was more than glad to be rid of it. She could barely make out the numbers on the thing, and when it rang, by the time she found it in her purse the person had already hung up.
    If this poor girl was stuck at home with a broken leg, she’d probably appreciate something to pass the time. Lucille decided she’d go to the A&P and pick up some of those gossipy magazines like the National Enquirer and People . She knew when she was sick she didn’t want to read nothing too heavy.
    Lucille pulled into the A&P parking lot, parked the Olds and went inside. While she was there, she ought to get some kind of snack to take with her. To ease the way, so to speak. She spied a bag of corn chips. Corn ought to be on her diet. Surely the cavemen grew corn. She knew the Indians did.
    Lucille checked out with her purchases and headed back to her car. She sat there for a minute glancing through the magazines she’d bought. It looked like JLo had herself a new boy toy, and Jennifer Aniston was supposedly pregnant again. Lucille had to laugh. What the press was calling a baby bump was probably a good, healthy Italian meal—some stuffed shells, a little escarole soup, all followed by tiramisu for dessert . . . or it could be constipation. Lucille knew that she was always bloated when she got backed up.
    She closed the magazines, put them on the seat beside her, and headed toward the Gales Drive apartments where this Melissa lived.

Chapter 10
     
    Lucille pulled up in front of one of the apartment buildings on the right side of Gales Drive and got out. There were a few dry leaves in the gutter—soon they would have all turned color and then they’d be all over the ground. The thought put Lucille in mind of Thanksgiving. She couldn’t wait for the turkey and all the trimmings. By then she should have lost enough weight to go off her diet.
    She rang the bell of apartment number five and waited. She could hear a thumping noise, and then Melissa swung open the door. Her left leg was encased in plaster, and she was balancing on a pair of crutches.
    “You must be Lucille,” she said, tottering on one leg.
    “Yeah. Did your friend call and tell you I was coming?”
    “She did. Said it was about Sal Zambino.” She stepped aside. “Come on in. I could do with some company. Being here alone all day is pretty boring. I used to think it would be great to have time off work to watch the soaps and some of those daytime talk shows, but I gotta tell you, it’s not all it’s made out to be.”
    “Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean. That’s why I work part-time in the office over at St. Rocco’s. My Frankie didn’t want me to have to work, but with our daughter grown, I figured why not bring in some extra money? It always comes in handy.” She thrust the copies of the National Enquirer and People at Melissa. “Here. I brought you some magazines on account of I figured you were probably bored being stuck inside and all.”
    “Thanks.” Melissa peered at the covers. “Do you think Jennifer Aniston is really pregnant? She’s got that new boyfriend and all.”
    “Nah, I think she just ate a big meal.”
    Melissa nodded. “I don’t think I can manage these and these horrible crutches. Can you throw them on the coffee table?” She pointed toward the living room. “Come in and have a seat.” she called over her shoulder.
    Lucille