Read Online What Curiosity Kills by Helen Ellis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Helen Ellis
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little narc? Mary is! Yay, Mary!"
Octavia looks embarrassed for the twins. I don't blame her.
Mom says, "I'm worried about our Mary."
"Oh, my word," Kathryn Ann chuckles. "What is there to worry about? Your Mary's not on drugs."
"She's not herself lately."
"Mom, I'm fine," I say, but I am in fact worried sick.
Kathryn Ann says, "All Miss Mary needs is a night in with her friends. The girls are scheduled to spend the night at our place tonight. Let 'em. Their highfalutin school is a pressure cooker. No wonder your Mary snapped."
"She ran a fever last night," Dad says. "I think she should come home with us."
"Dad, I'm fine." I'm not fine, of course, but I don't want to go home. If I go home, I'll be watched. At the twins' apartment, I'll be free of parental supervision. Their dad's away on business three weeks of every month. Chime In airs live in two hours, so Kathryn Ann will be gone. I'm not sure what I'm planning on doing, but I won't get away with anything if I go home with my folks. They love me too much to leave me alone.
Kathryn Ann signals for the check. "Don't even think about splitting the bill, Scott. This is my treat. We're celebrating your two girls' major accomplishments. Besides, we're getting off easy. Free refills! Do you know how much my three Diet Cokes would cost anywhere else?"
"Twelve dollars," recite the twins. They know this like they know how much Triscuits cost without a coupon ($5.00) or how much a practically free box of name brand cereal costs without 1,500 D'Agastino green points ($6.00). Their mom likes to remind them she wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and now that she's got one, she's not about to spit it out. Life is unpredictable. Money isn't. If Kathryn Ann and her husband drop dead, the twins need to manage what took her a lifetime to secure.
Kathryn Ann hefts her blood-red designer bag onto her shoulder. It's the same Upper East Side must-have as Ling Ling's, but Kathryn Ann got hers gratis from the designer's publicity department. They wanted her to be photographed with it, but I doubt they wanted it to be while she was coming out of Pizzeria Uno. She tells my parents, "Quit your worrying. I'll drop the girls off at our place and send Mary back to you tomorrow better than new. Trust me, she and Octavia will be perfectly fine. Have a date night!"
Dad nudges Mom. "There's a double feature at the Film Forum." Mom begrudgingly agrees.
Upon reaching the twins' Fifth Avenue apartment building a few blocks away, a town car is waiting to take their mom to the TV studio. Kathryn Ann clips coupons and never eats anywhere with a coat check but doesn't take public transportation? She sees how puzzled I am. Ducking into the back seat, she says, "This ain't my money, honey." She winks and points to her tight face. "And neither is this!"
It's the cable channel's directive that Kathryn Ann continue to be "fresh" at fifty-eight years old. She told them that if that's what they wanted, then they'd have to pay for it.
We wave good-bye, and a doorman walks us to the front entrance. Another doorman opens one of the double doors from inside. Another doorman meets us in the entryway and walks us to the elevator. Another doorman holds the elevator door open for us as we fit ourselves inside with him. Yes, that's right: four doormen for the four of us. The final doorman presses the PH button and takes us to the top.
The elevator opens into a tiny receiving area hardly bigger than the elevator itself. There is a sideboard for mail and, to the left, enough room for an umbrella stand filled with bright red promotional umbrellas that, when you open them, have tiny bells dangling from the spokes that read Chime In!
Despite the building's staff of twenty-three, the apartment is locked. The twins have a key but also a pass code that must be punched in within fifteen seconds of unlocking the door to silence an alarm. Mags
Octavia looks embarrassed for the twins. I don't blame her.
Mom says, "I'm worried about our Mary."
"Oh, my word," Kathryn Ann chuckles. "What is there to worry about? Your Mary's not on drugs."
"She's not herself lately."
"Mom, I'm fine," I say, but I am in fact worried sick.
Kathryn Ann says, "All Miss Mary needs is a night in with her friends. The girls are scheduled to spend the night at our place tonight. Let 'em. Their highfalutin school is a pressure cooker. No wonder your Mary snapped."
"She ran a fever last night," Dad says. "I think she should come home with us."
"Dad, I'm fine." I'm not fine, of course, but I don't want to go home. If I go home, I'll be watched. At the twins' apartment, I'll be free of parental supervision. Their dad's away on business three weeks of every month. Chime In airs live in two hours, so Kathryn Ann will be gone. I'm not sure what I'm planning on doing, but I won't get away with anything if I go home with my folks. They love me too much to leave me alone.
Kathryn Ann signals for the check. "Don't even think about splitting the bill, Scott. This is my treat. We're celebrating your two girls' major accomplishments. Besides, we're getting off easy. Free refills! Do you know how much my three Diet Cokes would cost anywhere else?"
"Twelve dollars," recite the twins. They know this like they know how much Triscuits cost without a coupon ($5.00) or how much a practically free box of name brand cereal costs without 1,500 D'Agastino green points ($6.00). Their mom likes to remind them she wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and now that she's got one, she's not about to spit it out. Life is unpredictable. Money isn't. If Kathryn Ann and her husband drop dead, the twins need to manage what took her a lifetime to secure.
Kathryn Ann hefts her blood-red designer bag onto her shoulder. It's the same Upper East Side must-have as Ling Ling's, but Kathryn Ann got hers gratis from the designer's publicity department. They wanted her to be photographed with it, but I doubt they wanted it to be while she was coming out of Pizzeria Uno. She tells my parents, "Quit your worrying. I'll drop the girls off at our place and send Mary back to you tomorrow better than new. Trust me, she and Octavia will be perfectly fine. Have a date night!"
Dad nudges Mom. "There's a double feature at the Film Forum." Mom begrudgingly agrees.
Upon reaching the twins' Fifth Avenue apartment building a few blocks away, a town car is waiting to take their mom to the TV studio. Kathryn Ann clips coupons and never eats anywhere with a coat check but doesn't take public transportation? She sees how puzzled I am. Ducking into the back seat, she says, "This ain't my money, honey." She winks and points to her tight face. "And neither is this!"
It's the cable channel's directive that Kathryn Ann continue to be "fresh" at fifty-eight years old. She told them that if that's what they wanted, then they'd have to pay for it.
We wave good-bye, and a doorman walks us to the front entrance. Another doorman opens one of the double doors from inside. Another doorman meets us in the entryway and walks us to the elevator. Another doorman holds the elevator door open for us as we fit ourselves inside with him. Yes, that's right: four doormen for the four of us. The final doorman presses the PH button and takes us to the top.
The elevator opens into a tiny receiving area hardly bigger than the elevator itself. There is a sideboard for mail and, to the left, enough room for an umbrella stand filled with bright red promotional umbrellas that, when you open them, have tiny bells dangling from the spokes that read Chime In!
Despite the building's staff of twenty-three, the apartment is locked. The twins have a key but also a pass code that must be punched in within fifteen seconds of unlocking the door to silence an alarm. Mags
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