Renata reaches over and takes my wrist, unbuttoning my cuff and pushing up my sleeve. “We could take her to get a tattoo. I’ll pay. What should she get? I know, a big Virgin Mary.” She’s shockingly strong and I inhale as her nails begin to press. “Ow,” I protest. For the first time, Teddy looks truly uncomfortable. “That’s the first interview question? What tattoo would I, a licensed tattoo artist, give Ruthie? Whatever she asked for. Let her go, please.” His voice has dipped down into that particular register men use when they want their way, now. We three women suddenly remember what he is.
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