The cops arrive, as they always do when upper-class white women are in trouble. Ten minutes is a pretty good response time I’d say. Brother Jasper smokes while Lola holds a can of Dr Pepper she’s too “rattled” to drink from. Having had a little distance from the text myself, I’m hoping to approach this with a fresh, renewed sense of patience 🙂
“You live alone?” he asked.
“Who else has a key to your house?”
Brother Jasper cleared his throat, voicing an objection.
Oh dear lord.
“I have a key. Your aunt gave it to me for emergencies. I’ve been meaning to give it to you, but every time I see you you’re rushing off somewhere.”
A spare key […] If it had been anyone else besides Brother Jasper it would have creeped me out entirely.
I’d still change my locks. NOT SAFE.
I didn’t find him the least bit threatening, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to have the locks changed.
Good thinking for once.
Ableism. Please stop.
came out of her house […] Never one to worry about propriety, she wore a housecoat with buttons the size of coasters and a shower cap.
A “housecoat” is apparently another name for a bathrobe, according to wikipedia. A bathrobe and shower cap. How incredibly strange for the middle of the night.
The bathroom light goes on upstairs! The intruder is still in the house! Jasper is smart enough to stop Lola from rushing in, telling her to let the police do their jobs.
I spotted Belinda being pulled down the sidewalk by two of her larger mutts, the husky mix and some big wooly thing.
I’m going to start bolding all of Lola’s judgmental language if she doesn’t drop this soon.
“The police in our district are top notch. And committed to helping the homeowners keep the neighborhood safe, too. Did you know we have a neighborhood watch committee?”
Oh, to have the kind of money that buys safety…
Where was the neighborhood watch committee this evening? They could have prevented the break-in, and I could be home in bed by now.
Oh yeah, through all of this Lola complains more about her aching feet and having to stand outside than she does about feeling violated or unsafe. Obviously the biggest problem with being broken into is you can’t go inside and be comfortable. The thing is, Lola, neighborhood watches are entirely on a volunteer basis. Nobody’s perfect. And it’s not like you’re hurt — you noticed and had a friendly neighbor to go to who gave you soda and is waiting with you while the police handle it. So what, exactly, are you expecting? The neighborhood watch could have called the cops sooner but you’d still have come home to this mess and had to deal with it. They’re not Batman you know.
The mysterious robber turns out to be none other than… Hubert.
He stood barefoot on my porch wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt […] he blinked a few times, looking like he’d just walked out of a dark movie theatre into daylight.
First thought: Why didn’t he call? Why would he just walk into her house and make himself at home if they haven’t talked in ages?!
Second thought: The guy obviously needs some help here. He does not appear to be in good shape. He seems dazed and disoriented — might be the police, but it might be something to do with the reason he’s here. Let’s see what Lola has to think:
My brain was having trouble with the idea of Hubert and my house occupying the same space. After my talk with Piper, I’d assumed he never wanted to see me again. Seeing him on my porch without shoe was as startling as bumping into your minister in the red-light district in Amsterdam.
Lolwut? Fair enough, I suppose.
“What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t think you’d mind. You said to stop over anytime,” he said.
“Yes, but I assumed you’d call first.” OK, my voice was kind of pissy, but jeez — I hadn’t seen the guy in months and suddenly he’s inside my house?
Ok. So I don’t hate that line of thought. I wish she noticed he was apparently not doing well, but I can’t fault her for this reaction one bit.
I introduced Hubert as if we were at a cocktail party. Hubert, always a social guy, explained that he came to my house because he got locked out of his own, and then he went on to compliment Belinda’s dogs and the neighborhood in general.
One, story please? Usually if you get locked out you call a locksmith unless someone’s intentionally locking you out — and there was that hint about lady troubles earlier. I want to know more!
Two, Hubert already sounds a hell of a lot nicer than Lola.
“I don’t even know how he got in.” [Lola tells the police officer]
“He said he used the key hidden on the porch under the planter,” Officer Dodge said.
“Ah yes, the hidden key,” Brother Jasper said. “I’d forgotten about that.” This was the first I’d heard of it.
How many ways into this woman’s house are there?! CHANGE YOUR LOCKS. Wait, how did Hubert know about this if they haven’t talked in so long?!
And now we’re at the end of chapter two. What did we learn today kids?
Don’t trust anyone.