Hitchers Read Free

to Grandma’s pleasure.
    â€œThat’s right, Wolfie is in Toy Shop ! I have a Wolfie coffee mug.” She looked at me expectantly, eyebrows raised, I guess to convey the kismet inherent in her owning a Wolfie mug.
    â€œThat’s terrific,” I said.
    Lyndsay stirred her margarita, forming a little whirlpool. “So why didn’t you mention that you draw Toy Shop in your profile?”
    I took a swig of Jack and Coke. “I guess I don’t want to take a lot of credit for Toy Shop , because I didn’t create it.”
    â€œYou create it new every day,” Lyndsay said, her tone overly earnest.
    â€œI guess.”
    She patted my hand, gave me her best empathetic look. “Sure you do.”
    It was an incredibly complex issue to me, one that a “Sure you do” didn’t begin to resolve. “Well, thanks,” I said, hoping that would close out this particular topic.
    The strip was more successful than it had ever been, but somehow the better it did, the more I felt like a fraud. My success came by standing on the shoulders of someone I hadn’t even liked, who had expressly forbidden me from doing what I did. On his death bed. None of the ideas for a strip I’d tried on my own before taking over Toy Shop had generated the least bit of interest from the syndicates. I hadn’t even been able to land an agent until I acquired the rights to Toy Shop .
    I pushed back in my chair. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
    I called my friend Annie from the bathroom.
    â€œHelp.”

    â€œThat bad?” Annie asked. “Is she ugly?” Her voice was raspy and drained.
    â€œYou don’t sound good.”
    â€œI have the flu. I feel awful.”
    â€œHave you been to the doctor?”
    â€œDuh. Have you been watching the news? Doctors’ offices are packed. So’s the emergency room. Half the city’s got it.”
    â€œYeah, I forgot.” I’d been too nervous about my date to pay much attention to the news. All they were covering, even on the big national networks, was the flu outbreak. I was probably an idiot for being out.
    â€œI’ll let you get some rest. Why don’t I stop by after?” I could surprise her with some soup from Stone Soup Kitchen.
    â€œIt’s okay. What else am I going to do? Is she ugly?”
    A tall guy in cowboy boots came into the bathroom. He nodded a pointless greeting and bellied up to a urinal. “No,” I said, talking lower, “she’s really good looking—better looking than her photo. She’s just...I don’t know.” I felt self-conscious with the cowboy guy in the room. I also felt strangely emasculated—guys don’t stand around in bathrooms talking on the phone. Women probably don’t either.
    The sound of urine on porcelain filled the small bathroom. “She’s kind of slick. I just don’t get a good vibe.” Cowboy guy stared at the wall.
    â€œMm. It’s always best to trust your gut. Want me to do a phone call rescue?” She coughed harshly. “Sorry.”
    I considered as cowboy guy brushed past me without washing his hands. Usually I was the one rescuing Annie from bad dates by calling so she could pretend an emergency had come up, because there were far more men than women who were nightmare dates, and somehow the worst of them always found Annie. That was true of Annie’s life in general, really.
    This wasn’t really a nightmare date, though. “No, I’ll stick it out. Just needed some emotional support.”

    â€œBig hug,” Annie said. “Call me as soon as you’re done. Hey, what if she offers to sleep with you?”
    â€œShe’s not going to.”
    â€œShe might.”
    â€œShe won’t.”
    â€œBut what if she does? You said she was good looking.”
    An image of Lyndsay unbuttoning her silk blouse flashed through my mind. I banished it.
    â€œAre you going