Wendy thinks...
It's so very lonely, Goldie. I keep expecting to see you sometimes. I can feel my lips twist into a forced smile–I'm sure that it's as cold and bitter as tonight is.
I lay the roses down on their graves, their memories haunting me fiercely. For a moment, I almost believe in ghosts. I let the flashes of barely remembered childhood wash through me...her smile and the way we used to protect each other when times got bad in Old Town...and they often WOULD get bad. The image of her face, I noticed, was starting to fade. Though if I look in a mirror...she's still there. That's given me only a little comfort through the years.
The more I remember, the more I realize that Marv was right; Goldie was the nice one.
"I...retired, Goldie." I tell the humble little stone that bears my sister's name. I lean down to trace her name with a slender finger. "I still work for Old Town...but I don't work 'men' anymore. Unless they fuck with the girls, of course."
I took out Gladys, something I got a cop to get for me. Sex works wonders with those of the male persuasion. And sex is one of the things I do best. "Ever since you two ...bought the farm, I've been different. Something in me changed."
I thought of what has changed. Yeah, not wanting to live. That's definitely changed; and that's one of the reasons I wanted the more dangerous job of 'protecting' the girls. Gail's said that I take unnecessary chances, that she doesn't want to bury me alongside of my sister.
I told her that maybe I want to die. I mean, everyone's gotta go sometime. Might as well die young and leave a beautiful corpse. My laughter came out of me in sharp, insane barks.
Gail looked at me with those dark piercing eyes of hers.