She caught me looking and said, “Oh, that. She had laid it next to the sink to wash her hands. Remember Ronnie from school? He was on the cleanup crew and returned it to me—wasn’t that nice? I think he wanted to do me.” She tittered. “He’s married now, though.”

I couldn’t look at her. Instead I stared at anything else.

“Bonnie, I know what you’re thinking. Or not thinking. You think I’ve gone crazy. And maybe I have, a little.” She let out another little titter. “But just look!” She spread her arms for emphasis. “Isn’t it great? I’m paying homage.”

I gave her a look. “Homage?” I said. My laugh came out mean, like a sneer. “You think this is homage?” I leaned toward her. “They’re dead, Krystal. Get a grip.” I said it loud and slow, as if I were speaking to an old, deaf man.

Her smile faded. She looked like she’d been slapped. But the smile returned just as fast as it disappeared. “I-I know, Bonnie. I know they’re dead.” She sounded congested. Her nose was running and she swiped at it. “Look. I want to ask you something now.” She paused. “I want to ask you something now, and I don’t want you to think too poorly of me. I know we left things kind of bad last time and, well, I’m sorry about the picture I threw and—the glass. Breaking it. I really am. I don’t know what came over me. I was just so—I was surprised. You understand.” She was half giggling now between almost every sentence. Her eyes were huge, those starved-out fever eyes. “I wanted to ask you about money.”

“Krystal,” I said. She put a hand up to stop me.

“Before you say anything, Bonnie, I just want to say something. I wanted to ask you—well, first I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. For breaking the picture but also because I know—I know I haven’t been in the best way for the past year or so. But I’m getting better. And I just thought, well, I just thought that with all your money now, maybe you could help me buy this house. It’s being foreclosed now, my aunt stopped making the payments . . . I mean what a bitch, right? She still hasn’t come around.” She shook her head. “But anyway, what I’m saying is, maybe you could loan it to me. The money. And I would pay you back, I really would. You probably wouldn’t even miss it, anyway.” She smiled that creepy smile.

The record kept going and for a minute we listened to Elvis’s velvety voice and looked at each other. “No, Krystal,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

She smiled harder. “Okay, but listen. I want to live here! I could make it nice again. Like it was. And hey—so could you. Live here, I mean. We could move in together. I wanted to ask you that. If you wanted to be roommates. I mean it makes sense, doesn’t it? Remember our Friday dinners?”