"Joyce! Find me something to wear! Please? Now!"
"Want me to make you some coffee?" Debbie offered and brought Maxine a cup ten minutes later.
"I've only had two hours sleep. I'm in no mood to go to Connecticut." She barely touched Debbie's offering before she was out the door. "I'm half here and so is my brain. Chow, Francesco!" The door slammed.
Ring!
"Is Nicole there? This is a collect call from Phil."
"Nicole! Juan-slash-Phil is on the phone." Debbie said.
Nicole slammed the bathroom door in hibernation, taking the banana phone with her.
"Yes. No. Please, Juan, please, you've got to believe me. Pleeeaze."
"Why? I told you I was at the store. Debbie didn't know. I just got back. Ten minutes ago. Debbie! Juan wants to talk to you."
"Hello?"
"Debbie! Where was Nicole two and a half hours ago?"
"I don't know. I thought she was going to visit you."
"She didn't say where she was going?" Juan interrogated her closely.
"No. She didn't say."
"How long was she gone? About how long, would you say?"
"I don't know. I don't remember." Debbie faltered, fear creeping into her voice.
"Get Nicole back on the phone," Juan ordered in exasperated frustration.
"Who? Who are you going to kill? WHO?" Nicole demanded.
"He said: I'm going to kill that stupid bitch."
"Oh, brother. Probably me," Debbie sighed. She was getting rther used to receiving death threats over the phone.
Ring!
"Nicole, it's H," Joyce commanded.
"Oh, I don't need this right now. If I can't say goodbye to Juan, he doesn't want to know me," Nicole sighed.
"Oh, no! Ohhhhh, NO!" Nicole suddenly screamed. She gasped. Chills gripped Debbie. Did someone die?
"My new leather coat! It cost five thousand dollars! Maxine wore it and rolled it up into a ball. I can't believe it! I'm going to put a lock on my closet," Nicole promised.
"Why do you wear all my things? I search for them for hours. Can't you ask before you take them? I don't even know they're gone. Joyce? Did you wear my Hermes scarf home?"
"No!" Joyce replied in guilty annoyance.
"Then why does it disappear when you go home and suddenly turn up for no reason?"
"I don't know. Why are you yelling at me?"
"I know you took them. And you can buy me another one. They're two hundred dollars at the Hermes store."
"I didn't! I didn't take them!" Joyce denied.
"But you have before! Why do you lie about it? I know you're lying, Joyce. You take my clothes, you wear them home, and they stay there. Why do you do it, Joyce?!"
"I DON'T TAKE YOUR CLOTHES HOME! Why do you keep yelling at me?" Joyce whined, losing control momentarily in her guilt.
"Because I know you. I know you take them home and you lie. Then you do it again! Why?"
"I won't do it! I won't," Joyce falsely promised.
"Time to do the laundry," Debbie said. She had just finished gathering articles for her weekly Wednesday washing. She hoped she hadn't forgotten anything. She checked hidden corners, her small closet, the crowded bathroom for remainders.
"Well, I'm going," she said, and she rounded up her soap powder, change purse full of quarters, and headed out.
The wash cycle was in full force when she realized that she was wearing the very jeans she had wanted to wash, shrinking them so they would fit. They were the only pair she had. What would she wear while doing the wash? Maybe she would just wear them baggy until next Wednesday. She was just too tired. She waited for the elevator to ding and the "spaceship" beeped the 13 floors to her penthouse floor apartment.
"I don't have enough quarters to dry! Just to wash!" She sang out cheerily.
Nicole laughed.
"I can't even afford to do my laundry!" she nodded at Joyce, who always inquired about her budget. No sooner were her words out, that she spied an entire bag of dirty socks and underwear in the corner of her room.
"I give up!" said, collapsing on her bed and laughing uncontrollably.
