“Are you mad at me?” Bruce stood in the doorway of Liza’s bedroom. He was still wearing his coat.
“No,” Liza lied.
“I wanted to give you and Laura privacy. I didn’t realize there was going to be a rumble.”
Damn you and your logical explanations. “It’s fine.” Liza plucked a tissue from the box and pulled the teeth out of her forehead. Yuck. She felt like she should get a rabies shot or a HIV test.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I was angry when you disappeared, but…you’re right. You didn’t know.” Liza dropped the teeth into the trashcan. She examined her forehead in the mirror over the bureau.
“I’m sorry,” said Bruce.
“It’s fine. Really.”
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” he asked.
“How about if you let me head-butt you.”
Bruce raised his eyebrows. “That would make you feel better?”
“Yes, but I might feel bad afterwards,” said Liza. She took off her jewelry and placed it in its drawer.
“Might?!” Bruce smiled.
Liza shrugged. “Uh huh, maybe.” She stared at him for a few seconds before cracking and smiling back. “I guess that won’t work. A trip to the dentist won’t make anything better anyway.”
“No, neither will a trip to the police station,” said Bruce.
“Hey!” Liza swatted him on the arm. He laughed.
“I know what would make you feel better,” said Bruce.
“Old fastnachts and Irish beer.”
“Mmmm…Fastnacht Day and St. Patrick’s Day, all in one. I like it,” said Liza, “I don’t have any Irish beer though, only Blue Moon.”
“Hmm.” Bruce scrunched up his face. “Were you going to get a shower?” he asked.
“Ok. Why don’t you do that and I’ll go to the beer distributor. We’ll meet downstairs in…half an hour?”
When Bruce left, Liza fished the tissue with the teeth out of the trashcan. One was a broken piece, the other still had the root attached. She jogged down to the kitchen and filled the sink with water. Then she pulled the stopper, tossed the teeth into the water, and flicked the switch for the garbage disposal.