Reading Online Novel

Big Love(29)



“You can say that again.”

“I try not to do it,” Zing said.

Miracle laughed. “Remind me to teach you the difference between literal and figurative.”

The doorbell rang and Miracle went into freak mode. “She’s here! Oh, Zing, I’m so nervous. I haven’t dated since Rita. Giselle doesn’t count. That was just sex. My dating skills are rusty. I don’t think I can handle this.”

Zing patted her arm. “No worries. Carol will love you.”

“You really think so?”

Zing shrugged. “I have no idea. I just said that to make you feel better.”

“You can’t lie to make me feel better then tell me you were lying. It defeats its own purpose.”

“Okay,” Zing said. She knitted her eyebrows and thought extra hard before saying, “I was actually lying about lying. Do you feel better now?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m more confused than anything.”

The doorbell rang a second time. And a third. And a fourth. And it didn’t stop ringing. “I better let her in better she breaks the doorbell,” Zing said. She trotted to the door and opened it, revealing a scowling Carol with her finger pressed firmly on the buzzer.

Carol was dressed all in black. She looked like Johnny Cash but with Converse sneakers and boobs. “What, you in the west wing and couldn’t get to the door?” she barked. She thrust a bottle of wine and a box into Zing’s hands.

“What’s in the box?” Zing asked.

“Cheesecake.”

“Sounds yummy. I like cheese. I like cake. But I never thought of combining the two.”

“I almost brought angel food cake, but I figured you ate that all the time.” Carol laughed at her own joke.

Zing politely laughed along.

“So, are you going to invite me in or what?”

Miracle appeared at the door. “Oh, yes, please come in,” she said.

Carol walked in and surveyed the living room. “It smells really good in here I love your house you look nice,” she said quickly without commas or periods.

“What?” Miracle asked.

“Nell told me I should say that as soon as I walked in the door. She made me memorize it.”

Miracle laughed. “Well, you did a real good job.”

Carol sat on the sofa and bounced up and down, testing its springs. “Nice couch. Must’ve cost a pretty penny.”

“Thank you,” Miracle said, “I guess.”

After that, Carol seemed at a loss for words. Miracle fidgeted. They both looked at everything in the room except each other. Finally, Zing came to the rescue by saying, “Miracle, why don’t you tell Carol about your house?”

“Well… I remodeled the house all by myself,” Miracle said.

Carol looked impressed. “Really?”

“It was a labor of love. My childhood sweetheart died right where you’re sitting and fixing up this house was my only solace,” Miracle said. “Unfortunately, my sweetheart’s ghost still haunts the house. She crawls into my bed every night and makes mad, passionate love to me.”

Carol looked stunned. “Are you shitting me?”

Miracle laughed and slapped her thigh. “Not really. That’s the plot of Dove Lance’s latest book. I actually bought the house from two gay men that fixed it up and then got a divorce.”

“You had me going there for a minute,” Carol said. There was another lengthy pause then she said, “Why is it that remodeling a house almost guarantees a divorce?”

“I know, right? That’s why I bought a house that was newly remodeled. Would you like a quick tour before supper?” Miracle asked.

“That’d be great. I love these old Victorians.”



“Zing, you can tag along, too,” Miracle said.

“No, thanks. I’ve already seen the house.”

“Right. Looks like it’s just you and me,” Miracle said to Carol.

“I’ll get the table ready with the food,” Zing said.

“What are we having?” Carol asked, giving a good sniff. “It smells delicious.”

“Thank you,” Miracle said.

“And Nell didn’t tell me to say that,” Carol quickly added.

Miracle laughed.

Zing said, “We’re having Greek orzo salad, grilled Greek pork loin, Greek feta crescent rolls, Greek tea, Greek feta spread to go with the bread and tea, Greek salad, Greek baklava—”

Carol put her hand up. “Stop.”

“There’s still a few more things,” Zing said, “But I’m not sure how to pronounce them.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s all Greek to me,” Carol joked.