The Devil and Danielle Webster Read Free Page A

enthusiasm.  The decades had not
been kind to him.  I grabbed my cell and texted Jill.  “I need a
layer” “*lawyer”  “OMG call me”
     “Who are— “  I could tell
the exact second that recognition hit him.  “Danielle?” his voice sounded
incredulous, and none too happy.  “Where the hell are we?”
    What could I say in such circumstances?  The last time
I ever saw him was the night before I moved four states away to avoid seeing
him with his new love interest.  He married her the very next year. 
I’d never met her, but I’d been told she wore the pants in the family. 
    “Did you lose your nose ring, Doug?” I asked in a
sympathetic voice.  “Yes, we’re in hell.  How did you guess?”
    Doug was acclimating to the room; he released the bedspread,
shuffled over to a chair, and sat down heavily.  “Why am I in hell? 
I’ve been good.  I’ve been great, in fact.  I’ve been to confession
every week now for, geez, how long?  The past 20 years, I’d say. 
Just ask Father Fritz, he’ll vouch for me.”
    I took the other chair and put my elbows on the table. 
“You and Tina never did anything you couldn’t tell to a priest, huh?  Wow,
sounds awfully tame.  What happened to the Doug Morris I knew?”
    “We aren’t really in hell, are we?”
     “I was kidding.  We’re not in hell, not yet
anyway.  We’re in Bullhead City, Arizona.”
    “I’d say that’s close enough.”  He looked at me
accusingly.  “Danielle, is this your doing?”
    “I guess it is, but believe me, I didn’t mean for it to be
like this.  Ugh!  When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?”
    “Who are you, my mother?  What’s that got to do with
anything?”
    “It’s just that whenever I thought of your kisses over the
years I reminded myself that by now you probably take your teeth out at night
and keep them in a little glass of water by your bed.”
    “Very funny.”
    “So did I guess right?  Are you wearing dentures yet?”
    “No, I am not, Danielle, and you are not a comedian.”
    “Well, we’re only in our forties.  Give it another
decade.  Tina will have to get used to tongue-kissing your gums,” and
despite my disappointment over wasting my soul for this beer-barreled guy with
outdated long hair and too much plaque, I burst out laughing at the thought of
a toothless Doug trying to put the moves on his wife.
    He waited with a sullen look on his face until I’d recovered
from my fit of laughter.  “How did this happen, Danielle?  You owe me
an explanation.  It’s, what?—” he looked at his watch—“four in the
morning—“
    “That’s Chicago time.  It’s only 2 AM here—“
    “—and I have to get up and go to work in two hours.  So
you need to tell me what’s going on, and make it fast.  I’ve got to get
back home.  God knows what Tina must be thinking!”  He looked
seriously alarmed at the thought.  Heh heh , the rumors from my friend Cindy must have been
correct. 
    “Okay, here’s the fast version.  I’m here at this motel
in the middle of nowhere, I’ve got insomnia, I seem to have voiced a wish aloud
to see you again, and someone who seems to be the Devil made it happen.” 
    I was too embarrassed to give details of what I’d been
wishing.  How unfair could this Daemon Lucifer be?  I wasn’t
expecting this reunion and here I sat, without benefit of shower, make-up or
flattering clothes.  The passage of twenty years’ time hadn’t made any
improvements in my appearance.  Pregnancies had left me with extra pounds
and breastfeeding had compounded the damages.  I’d gamely nursed all three
as long as they’d cooperated (2 months, 12 months, 8 months, for anyone wondering.)  Carter, my baby, was now nine.  I had
felt relieved (guilty, but relieved) to wean him at eight months.  He had
a mouthful of gigantic baby teeth and liked to play steel-jaw leghold trap with my nipple, grinning up engagingly at me
when I shrieked.  My