“I don’t even have to come over — she said it was no big deal and that she trusted me, but I am a good girl and, like Garth, I keep my word. I said I’d come over before I started sitting, so come over I do. I knock on the door. Trixie sticks her head out and puts her finger up to her lips. “Auggie’s finally sleeping.” The first thing I notice is that she looks great dressed in denim jeans, a 1940s shirt, and her black hair pulled back in a red bandana. She looks like the woman in that World War ...II poster, Rosie the Riveter. The second thing I notice is the whole place is filled with mermaids. Mermaids of every kind. And blue. The apartment is all kinds of blue. “I’m kind of obsessed,” Trixie says. “I always liked that story. When I was young.” “‘The Little Mermaid,’” I say. “Yeah, but the real version. The sad one,” she says. “Not the Disney one.” She shows me around, and I can barely hear her because the stuff in her apartment is more interesting than what she’s saying.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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