Read Confessions of the Sullivan Sisters for Free Online Page B

Cokes for free.
    “Hi, Aileen,” Robbie said. “This is Norrie.”
    “Hi, Norrie.” Aileen smiled at me but underneath her smile I saw suspicion or jealousy or annoyance—it was hard to tell exactly what.
    I liked the movie; it was kind of scary and sexy. Afterward, we stood awkwardly outside the theater while the crowds poured onto the sidewalk around us. I waited to see what would happen next.
    “Well,” he said, “I guess you need to get home now?”
    “Not really.”
    “You don’t?”
    “No. It’s cool.” Ginger and Daddy-o were out, so I wasn’t worried.
    “Oh. Okay. Want to get something to eat?”
    “Yes!” I wished I hadn’t said that so enthusiastically, but I couldn’t help it.
    “Do you like bouillabaisse?”
    “Mais oui!”
    “Then follow me.” We walked down Charles to Mulberry and headed west.
    “Where are we going?” I asked.
    “Maurice’s. Have you ever been there?”
    “No, but I’ve always wanted to go.” St. John goes there sometimes. “Is it true their specialty is ostrich?”
    “Mwah!” Robbie kissed his fingertips. “It’s ostri-licious. Will you try it?”
    “Maybe,” I said, adding, “Abbondanza!” and throwing my arm in the air for no good reason.
    Robbie laughed. “You sure have lots of lust for life.”
    “I’m not usually so energetic and happy, I swear. I mean, I’m a happy person generally, I’m not depressed or anything, but I try to keep things under control—”
    “That’s okay, Norrie. I like it. Don’t you get sick of everybody acting cool all the time?”
    “Yes, I do. I never thought it before, but you’re right. It’s tiresome.”
    “Totally tiresome.”
    “If we become friends, I promise not to act cool,” I said. “If I like something, I’ll gush about it without holding back my enthusiasm. If I hate something, same thing.”
    “ If we become friends?”
    “Okay, when we become friends. Now. We’re friends now. I like you! Okay? I like you and I’m not pretending I don’t in order to look cool.”
    He didn’t laugh. I really thought he was going to laugh.
    “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate that. I like you too.”
    “That wasn’t very gushy,” I complained.
    “ You promised not to act cool. I didn’t.”
    “No fair, Robinson Pepper!”
    “When I’m in a gushy mood, I’ll gush. I promise. Right now, I’m hungry.”
    “Mmm. Me too.”
    The neighborhood started getting sketchy. We turned down a dark alley and stopped in front of a small brick house with a pink door and bright blue shutters on the windows. The main window was obscured by stained glass. There was no sign over the restaurant. There was a sign over the burned-out storefront across the street, which said: CHOP CHOP KARATE SHOP .
    Robbie rang the doorbell. A man’s eye appeared in a peephole. “Who is it?”
    “Robbie Pepper. Two for dinner?”
    The door opened. A bald, skinny, old man in an apron appraised us, then let us in. “Right this way, sir.”
    The restaurant was dark, lit only by candles. I touched thepatterned wallpaper. It was snakeskin. Tom Waits played quietly through the speakers.
    “Your waitress will be right with you.” The old man disappeared into the kitchen.
    “That’s Maurice,” Robbie said. “This place has been in his family since the 1920s. It used to be a speakeasy.”
    I looked around. There was a collection of odd figurines on a shelf in one corner, and bronze sculptures mounted here and there on the walls.
    A pretty waitress gave us menus. “Hi, Robbie,” she said.
    “Hi, Marissa,” Robbie said. “This is Norrie.”
    Marissa and I said hi to each other. I thought I saw that same look in her eye that I’d seen in Aileen’s. Competitive.
    “Let’s get a pitcher of sangria,” Robbie said.
    Marissa said, “Sorry, Robbie, but does Norrie have ID?”
    He turned to me and blinked as if he didn’t understand the question. I shook my head.
    “Oh. Right. Sorry. Norrie, what would you like to drink? That’s