Marty pulled some more blankets off a shelf. He spread one over her legs and sat down beside her. “How are you holding up?”
In the last two days she’d bee shot at, pursued, interrogated, betrayed, blacklisted, and evicted. How was she holding up, actually, not too bad.
Freyja yawned. “I don’t know. I’m too exhausted to think.” The warmth of his body felt comforting. She wanted to snuggle up but wasn’t sure about Martinek Vasek. Why did high government officials warn her about him, what was his involvement in the demonstration and, more importantly, his involvement with Linda Wong? This was not the gangly, pimply-faced kid, with the too short haircut and the too big ears she went to parochial school with. Thank goodness for that.
As much as she wanted answers, one thing would likely lead to another and she’d be forced to admit that he was right about The Daily News. No way would she give him that satisfaction, so instead she said, “Who are you, Marty?”
“Who do you want me to be, Free?” He pulled the heater closer.
The warmth seemed to weight her eyelids. She struggled to keep them open. “Not some weirdo with an extremist agenda.”
“How about I just be your friend from the old neighborhood?” He put an arm around her shoulders.
“That would be nice.” Her head lolled onto his shoulder.
“A guy from the neighborhood who’s always had a thing for you.”
“You know that tree outside the front of your house, the one that faces you and Arni’s bedroom?”
“The one we use to use for “home” when we played kick-the-can?”
Marty nodded. “I use to climb it at night and look in the window to try to see you undressing.”
“You pervert.” Freyja punched him in the arm. “Did you get a good look?
“Not until Arni said he’d leave the curtains open if I gave him two dollars.”
“Two dollars! The little jerk. I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t worry, it was worth every cent.”
“Damn right it was but he scammed me for seventy-five cents.”
Marty looked puzzled.
Freyja giggled. “Arni told me you were being a peeking-tom so he and I cooked up the plan. When you came up with the money I’d do a little strip tease. I told him I wouldn’t do it for less than a dollar and a half. I gave him a quarter. Now I discover he was holding out on me.”
“That’s not a big cut for being your “manager.”
“He’s lucky he got anything. You’re forgetting I’m the tougher twin.”
“Apparently not the smarter.” He stroked her face with the back of his hand. “But definitely the sexier.”
“Marty, it’s been a bitch of a day.” Her words slurred, her eyelids succumbed.
He sighed. “I feel exactly like I did when I was eleven and watched you undress through your window.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to do what you did then.”
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