Chapter 3: Part 2
Quinn sat in the car, reluctant to face an angry Edith. He imagined the brash criticism literally smacking against her lipstick-smothered teeth before they reached him.
“Don’t be such a pussy,” Molly encouraged. Heaving a sigh, he undid his seat belt and opened the passenger side door.
“Dae ye think ah micht join ye too,” Mark asked. “I dinnae want tae sit in the car the whole time. Plus, you’ve bin complainin’ aboat thit bird fir ages, an ah want tae see whit is so bad.”
“Yeah, sure,” Quinn agreed as they walked up the entrance Edith’s building.
They walked in and made their way to the receptionist’s desk. Margaret smiled at them, her face forced and trite. Mark near the ficus, picking up old issues of the Daily Local.
“Welcome to the Daily Local,” she began. “Ventura’s answer to all things hip, trendy, and cool.”
“Yeah, thanks Margaret,” Quinn acknowledged. “Is Edith in today?”
“Oh, sorry Quinn,” she answered. “Edith’s out.”
“Oh, okay,” Quinn said in relief, knowing that his memory had moe to offer on the alcohol, and nothing on the food. “When will she be back?”
“Actually, I’m not sure,” Margaret said.
“What do you mean?”
Pulling herself over the counter of her desk, she gestured Quinn to come closer.
“Her breast kept growing,” Margaret whispered. “So she had to get them fixed.”
“So what does that mean,” Quinn asked, perplexed.
“Polypropylene,” Margaret whispered. “A few years back, she got string breast implants. Haven't you noticed they’ve gotten bigger since you’ve met her?”
“No,” Quinn lied, recalling how jammed her blouses have looked lately.
Well, when she first got them she went from an ‘A’ to a ‘C’, but they’ve become pretty huge due to excessive serum production, so she’s getting them fixed,” Margaret explained. “I don’t think the procedure is too serious, but knowing Edith, she’ll probably be using the time to fool around with her girlfriend.”
“Ew,” Molly chimed in. “No laj between the vag.”
“All right. Thanks Margaret,” Quinn said as he and Mark made their way out.
“Whit did Margie say aboat yer boss’ chebs?”
“They were too big, so she had to get them fixed,” Quinn answered, still a little confused by the explanation himself.
“Huh, ah dae likes masel a paur of massif breasts, but not if das aw ah’m gettin.”
Despite the relief of not having to deal with her first hand, Quinn couldn’t help but feel that even though Edith was not around to do it herself, he had once again learned too much about her.
“It’s a good thing she isn’t here,” Quinn thought out loud. “I don’t think I could have taken her seriously if that was the case.”
“Well despite the rocky sturt this morn, ye gots tae admit yer one jammy bastard, aye,” Mark laughed as the two of them hopped into his car. “Go tae work, get pissed an ye dinnae hiv tae report tae the Ba’-Heid.”
“And yet, still unlucky enough to lose my wallet and keys,” Quinn sighed.
“Well, let’s jist start from the beginning,” Mark encouraged as he turned on the ignition. “Whit dae ye remember?”
“I went to Uncle Wei’s, that Seafood place off of the freeway, for the review that was due today.”
“Mm hm,” Mark nodded.
“I met Wei, saw Joe, then started drinking with Lucy.”
“Lucy? Who’s this Lucy an wey dinnae ye say enthin?”
“Jees did ye git a blaw tae yer heid? It was jist list nigh, mahn.”
“She’s the waitress I met last night; Wei’s daughter,” Quinn answered before Mark gave him even more grief. “I don’t remember her being a crucial part of the night.’
“Well, mibbie the bird’s kens maur aboat list nigh thin ye dae. Ye think o that?” Quinn shook his head. “Ah propane thit we check oat the Seafood Palace.”
“Duh. Why didn’t we think of going there in the first place,” Molly rationalised. “I’m sure you wallet and your keys are with Lucy!”
“All right,” Quinn agreed as Mark peeled out onto the street and made his way to the freeway.
The day was still early, the sun shimmering off of the water’s horizon, but it still felt like it had gone on for long enough to Quinn. The relief of the night was comforting to him, the light the catalyst to the spikes of migraine that had come with the exposure of going outside. He closed his eyes, hoping it could alleviate the new one coming on, but only saw red and realised it was too late to evade it.
“Is that another healthy reminder of your binge drinking,” Molly asked. Quinn only nodded.
“So whit else did ye kids dae list nigh,” he heard Mark ask.
“Yeah. What else did you and Lucy do,” Molly giggled from the back seat. “Tell your nosy Scot all the embarrassing details.”
“There’s not much to say,” Quinn began. “After finding out that Joe was there for her engagement party, I kind of lost it.”
“Whit dae ye mean ‘lost it’?”
“Well at first I didn’t know it was her, so I started obsessing on whether it was her or not. When I found out it was her, I--”
“Turned into a sad little puppy,” Molly interrupted.
“A mess,” Quinn finished.
“Saurry mate,” Mark said with the same repetitive remorse.
“Thanks,” Quinn said, welcoming his sympathy.
“Uncle Wei’s, ah hurd, was a big eatery,” Mark began. “Oat o aw the paepul thit were thir, how’d ye spoat Joe?”
“I caught a glimpse of her toe thumb,” Quinn answered.
“Oh ye,” Mark laughed. “Thit thing.”
“Yeah. Lucy was serving me the whole time and when she couldn’t take my strange behavior, she sat me down, told me to explain, and calmed me a bit.”
“With a good helping of alcohol,” Molly added. “Good thing too. He was about ready to crash that party.”
“She dinnae seem tae dae a very guid joab o takin caur of ye,” Mark voiced. “But gae oan.”
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