her five-foot-two frame and delicate Asian features and failed to
recognize her inherent scrappiness ran the risk of suffering horribly
at the hands of a grossly underestimated opponent. The nickname
?Giggles? was her personal albatross. She?d had it since she
was a baby. In her friends? and family?s defense it was impossible
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to resist calling her Giggles. Claire had, hands down, the best laugh
in the universe. Never forced or shrill, it was the kind of laugh that
could make anyone within earshot smile.
?Fo-sho, sire of my BFF,? Claire replied. She hugged Jerry back
with genuine affection, ignoring his use of the dreaded nickname.
?Might I have a word with your progeny? Sorry to be so rude, but
it?s top secret, high-clearance stuff. I?d tell you . . .? she began.
?But then you?d have to kill me,? Jerry finished sagely. He
shuffled obligingly off to the concession stand to buy himself a sugary
soda while his daughter, the chief of the food police, wasn?t
looking.
?Wacha got in the bag, dad?? Claire asked. She grabbed Helen?s
loot and started rifling through. ?Jeans, cardigan, T-shirt, under
. . . whoa! You go underwear shopping with your dad? Ew!?
?It?s not like I have any choice!? Helen complained as she
snatched her bag away. ?I needed new bras! Anyway, my dad hides
at the bookstore while I try everything on. But trust me, even
knowing he?s down the street while I shop for underwear is excruciating,?
she said, a smile on her reddening face.
?It can?t be all that painful. It?s not like you ever try to buy anything
sexy. Jeez, Lennie, do you think you could dress more like
my grandma?? Claire held up a pair of white cotton briefs. Helen
snatched the granny panties and shoved them to the bottom of the
bag while Claire stretched out her magnificent laugh.