Characters in The Gingerbread Girl

She hadn’t mentioned the running to Susan Steiner, hadn’t even seen her since Amy’s funeral. “She says she’ll put it on a prescription pad, if you want.” Emily had always been able to bluff Henry. Even after Amy died.

She lived in her Toughskins and shell tops, hair scooped back behind her head in a ponytail. She and her bestfriend Becka watched old Eastwood and Schwarzenegger movies on TV instead of the Olsen twins, and when they watched Scooby-Doo, they identified with the dog rather than Velma or Daphne.

Em’s mother was no longer Debra to him, either. Since the funeral (ovarian cancer), she was just your mother. Em almost said, Are you sure you don’t mind this? but that was the kind of thing you said when a stranger offered to do you a favor.

It wasn’t quite time yet, but almost. Almost. – 4 – Not a very nice man. One afternoon not long after July became August, Deke Hollis told her she had company on the island. He called it the island, never the key. Deke was a weathered fifty, or maybe seventy.

So she did go to a doctor, but it was Dr. Mendez, their general practitioner, not Susan Steiner. Mendez gave her a prescription for some stuff called Zomig. She took the bus to the family practice where Mendez hung out, then ran to the drugstore to get the scrip filled.

“Dr. Steiner says run your ass off, get those endorphins going.” She hadn’t mentioned the running to Susan Steiner, hadn’t even seen her since Amy’s funeral. “She says she’ll put it on a prescription pad, if you want.” Emily had always been able to bluff Henry. Even after Amy died.

“I’ll call you,” she said, and hung up. – 3 – Vermillion Key lay dazed and all but deserted. So Emily Owensby ran down to the end of the driveway, then down the hill to Kozy’s Qwik-Pik, and then at the Cleveland South Junior College track.

Running was enough. Henry called the running a fetish, and she supposed he was right. “What does Dr. Steiner say about it?” he asked. “Dr. Steiner says run your ass off, get those endorphins going.” She hadn’t mentioned the running to Susan Steiner, hadn’t even seen her since Amy’s funeral.

Never would. Not R. J.’s style. He’d tell you the same as I am, though—Jim Pickering’s not a very nice man. I’d steer clear of him. If he invites you in for a drink or even just a cup of coffee with him and his new ‘niece,’ I’d say no.

They had a discussion about it. The discussion escalated into a marriage-ending argument. “It’s a hobby,” she said. “Jodi Anderson said you ran until you fell down. She was afraid you’d had a heart attack. That’s not a hobby, Em. Not even a fetish. It’s an obsession.”

“I’ll send Mariette in to clean the house,” he said. “Dad, you don’t need to do that. I can clean.” “I want to,” he said. “A total top-to-bottom is overdue. Damn place has been closed up for almost a year.

Melody, her name was. Em didn’t like to go there—it made her feel funny—but she knew Melody made her dad happy, so she always asked after her. Fine, her dad invariably replied. Mel’s as dandy as a peach. Once she called Henry, and once Henry called her.

Or adoption. “Those investments weren’t just good, they were blessed by heaven—especially the software stocks. Mort got us in at the right time and out at the absolute golden moment. Emmy, you don’t want to take the eggs out of that nest.”

He said, “Sit there. I’m not going to kill you. I changed my mind. Man can change his mind. I got nothing from Nicole but a poke in the arm.” There was a depleted roll of duct tape on the island. He picked it up.

He agreed. She knew he would, but not until he heard her all the way out. The hearing out was the most important part, and Rusty Jackson was good at it.