Chapter 7
I cursed anorexia as I struggled to keep rail-thin, ultra-light Roberta from cracking her head on Marla’s stone foyer. She was oddly unwieldy. I screamed for Marla to bring some smelling salts or a bottle of ammonia to the door. When Marla rushed into her foyer a moment later, she was holding a bottle of peroxide.
“It’s all I had,” she said apologetically. “What’s the matter with Roberta?”
“She fainted.” I clasped Roberta while staring at the peroxide bottle. Did it have a strong scent? I couldn’t remember. “Look, Marla, would you please open the bottle?”
“You’re going to do her hair? It’ll come out looking like crap.”
“Marla, for heaven’s sake!” I gently turned Roberta onto her back, so that she was resting on a slender Oriental rug. Then I lifted her head. “Okay, now run t
