My voice rose an octave. “The shower?”
“I gotta go,” she said. “I gotta visit my neighbor in the hospital.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Cancer,” she whispered. “Terrible. Terrible. She's rotting away. Her insides are rotted, and now she's got sores all over her body. I had a cousin once who rotted like that. She turned black and just before she died her fingers fell off.”
“Eeeeeuw.”
“Well,” she said, “you enjoy the casserole.”
I waved good-?bye and carted the warm casserole off to the kitchen. I set it on the counter and banged my head against the cabinet door a couple of times. “Argh.”
I lifted a corner of the foil and peeked inside. Lasagna. Smelled good. I cut a square for myself and scooped it onto a plate. I was thinking about seconds when Morelli came home.
He looked at the lasagna and sighed. “Aunt Loretta.”
“Yep.”
“This is out of control,” he said. “This has to stop.”
“I think they're planning a shower.”
“Shit.”
I got up and rinsed my plate, so I wouldn't be tempted to cut another wedge of lasagna. “How'd things go today?”
“Not that good.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Can't. I'm working with the Feds. It's not supposed to go public.”
“You don't trust me.”
He cut a slab of lasagna and joined me at the table. “Of course I trust you. It's Mary Lou I don't trust.”
“I don't tell Mary Lou everything!”
“Look, it's not your fault. You're a woman, so you blab.”
“That's disgusting! That's so sexist!”
He took a bite of lasagna. “I have sisters. I know women.”
“You don't know all women.”
Morelli considered me. “I know you.”
I could feel my face get warm. “Yeah, well, we should talk about that.”
He pushed back in his chair. “It's your nickel.”
“I don't think I'm cut out for irresponsible sex.”
He thought about that for a beat and gave an almost imperceptible nod. “We have a problem then, because I don't think I'm cut out for marriage. At least not now.”
Wow. Big surprise. “I wasn't proposing marriage.”
“What were you proposing?”
“I wasn't proposing anything. I guess I was just setting boundaries.”