“Oh, I bet you’re talented at something,” Hank said. “Whattaya doing later, Merry Meri? Wanna come over and play?”

Merilee laughed nervously and spilled a dollop of cream cheese on the front of her polyester blouse. “Whoops,” she giggled and dipped a napkin into a glass of water then dabbed at the stain (Sidney couldn’t help noticing) right where the dart of her uniform strained against her right breast.

“I’ll write down my address,” Hank said, pumping his eyebrows suggestively.

Merilee would have reached into her apron (avoiding the stolen makeup) and removed her pad and pen. She would have placed them in Hank’s outstretched hands, whereby after weeks of fooling around in the back of Hank’s car they would have surely gone all the way. But fate intervened.

The doors flew open bringing a gust of warm Santa Ana wind along with two policemen and Steve the pharmacist.

“There she is!” cried the pharmacist, pointing.

My mother cowered behind the counter as if she had committed a crime, which she had.

The policemen cornered Merilee. Officer Roy was a tall man, while his partner, Hervé, was shorter than Sidney. According to the police files, each then took a firm hold of one of my mother’s delicate arms.

“Let me go.” Shaking them off, she ran behind the counter.

“Hey!” said my father. “Just what the hell—”

“Stay out of this please, Mr. Goldstein, sir.” In those days, Malibu was a small town, and everyone knew everyone by name.

“Fellas, what’s this all about?” Hank asked, rising well above Sidney.

“Where’s the lipstick, Merilee?” Steve the Pharmacist demanded. “The Frosty Moon Glow?”

“I-I haven’t the foggiest, Steve.” Merilee tossed her head and struck what she hoped was a provocative pose meant to throw him off the trail.

Unfortunately for Merilee, Steve was in a ten-year relationship with his housemate, Jim, and couldn’t have cared less about Merilee’s anatomy. But Sidney, his dream girl in a pickle, was squirming on his seat like a child who knows the answer to a math question but has already raised his hand too many times. He ached to rescue her, sweep her into his arms, and carry her out of harm’s way.

“One peek at your apron and we’ll get out of your hair,” Officer Roy stated firmly.

The customers watched as Merilee backed up to the oven and slowly undid the ties around her waist. Not only was the stolen lipstick in her apron pocket but so was a royal blue mascara taken the day before.

“C’mon babe, just give ‘em the apron,” Hank said. The customers echoed their agreement. Sidney moved to the edge of his seat.