Twenty #3
Edie lunged for Frances and grabbed her as if she meant to take her down. They twisted around, pretending to fight, screeching at each other.
“Hey!” the jeweler shouted. He slammed down the phone and came over the counter to break up their fight. When he’d finally pulled them apart, Joan was gone. Frances ran to the door. “Stop following me!” she screamed, and fled.
Edie stayed, of course, to let the jeweler mollify her.
Recalling all that now, Frances couldn’t help it. She giggled. “What an idiot.”
“Remind me why he got cold feet?” Irene asked.
“He didn’t get cold feet,” Joan said. “But he wasn’t going to pay a Black woman for her hard work. He was going to call the cops.”
“At least you cleared out his cash drawer,” Edie said. When the fight broke out, Joan leaned across the counter and grabbed what she could. The jewelry she’d brought in was too far out of reach.
“One hundred and sixty dollars,” Joan said. “A very poor return on our investment.”
It was one of the few times they failed.
That night, they gathered in Irene’s seedy little apartment again, this time with dozens of Chinese food containers, playing a game of imagining all the ways they would kill the jeweler.
“I always wondered,” Irene said as she reached for a fry. “How much do you think he made from our haul?”
“Thousands,” Edie said with a sigh.
“You know what else I wonder? What the Pahlavi brooch is worth today.”
Attention turned toward Edie. She shrugged a little. “Millions.”
“Why did you keep it?” Irene demanded.
Edie put down what was left of her burger and carefully wiped her fingers on a napkin. “I liked it and I wasn’t ready to let it go. It’s beautiful. But I was going to tell you.”
“Yeah, right,” Irene scoffed. “Where is it now?”
Edie laughed wryly. “Simon keeps it in a safe. I’ve been trying to get it for years. I came damn close once—I cracked the safe. But it set off an alarm.” She shrugged.
“And then what?”
“And then he changed the safe to a digital lock. And for the last twenty years, every week, he changes the code. Every week, I try and crack it.”
Everyone was silent for a long moment, their expressions baffled.
“I know,” Edie said to their silent questions and accusations. “It’s a weird game we play. But the bottom line is, I can’t crack a digital safe.”
“Wait a minute,” Joan said. “You can’t break that safe?” She looked around at the rest of them. “Are we kidding ourselves? If Edie can’t break a safe, and she can’t be the decoy anymore because she’s too old—”
“Hey,” Edie said.
“Oh my God,” Irene said. “Are we crazy? Is this insane? I mean, sure, it’s insane, but what are we doing here?”
“We are still bat-shit crazy,” Edie said. “But this is different. The casino safe is a wheel-lock safe. Not digital.”
Frances looked around at the expressions of panic, of doubt, of worry.
She could feel a headache coming on and needed to take some medicine.
“We’re not crazy,” she said firmly. “Sure, we may need more bathroom breaks and we can’t get down on the floor without a little help.
But we are still clever, diabolical women.
Age is just a number, you guys. We can do whatever we put our hearts and minds to doing. ”
Irene looked at Joan.
Joan shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I? I just handed out several fake IDs to you broads. And I can get up off the floor. I’m fit. So, I’m in. And if we all agree we’re in, I don’t want anyone questioning it. We need positive vibes going forward.”
“Well,” Irene said carefully, “despite my terrible misgivings, I’m in, too. I don’t have that much to live for anyway.”
“Don’t say that,” Joan said. “You have us.”
“I’m the one who got us altogether, so I am definitely in,” Frances said, folding her arms across her middle.
“Here we go,” Joan said. “Frances has the idea and wants all the credit.”
“I’ve been coming up with ideas since we first met.”
“Excuse me, I don’t think it was your idea to go after your mother’s emerald box after your dad died. That was all me,” Edie said. She rolled onto her hands and knees, then stood up.
“I was in mourning!” Frances insisted. “But none of you can deny that I am responsible for us meeting. I had the house, I had the booze, I had the pot.”
“This is why I’m in,” Edie said, pointing at Frances. “Someone has to keep you in check. And I may not be the bombshell I once was, but I can still crack a safe. I’m almost seventy percent sure of it.”
“There’s a real confidence builder,” Irene said.
“Speaking of having the pot,” Joan said, and reached into her granny gown pocket and withdrew a joint.
Edie gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Grass? Why don’t you drink wine like a proper grandma?”
“When did you turn into a proper grandma?” Joan asked, and held out the hand-rolled cigarette to her. “Don’t worry, it’s mild.”
Edie snorted. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. But I will try. Just not while you have that mask on your face, Joan. You look like a giant pea and I don’t want to hallucinate. Now excuse me while I slip into something more bearable.” She walked into the bathroom.
Frances smiled at Joan and Irene. “She’s definitely in.”