talk anymore. I had to come see for myself." She leaned
closer and examined his head. "Yep. Looks pretty bad. I see
guys in jail who look better than you."
O.E. muttered. "Thanks. Now two women are happy to
see me like this."
Constance turned to Rebecca with a conspiratorial
smile. "So you've already abused him for this?"
What woman wouldn't? Rebecca had indeed figured out
the essential O.E.-Mr. Big Talk. Known to women all over
the city. She smiled with a shrug. "I couldn't resist. The big
talking O.E. without a mouth? It's nearly perfect." They
laughed.
Constance gave Rebecca a serious look. "So, are you
going out with him?"
"No. I realized right away that it wouldn't work out." She
wondered what to say about it, not wanting to air all of her
reservations. "He's strange, you know. So self-assured yet no
place to live."
Constance quickly turned to look at O.E., then turned
back with a smile. A warm, almost loving smile.
Rebecca shuffled her feet. "I know I shouldn't fault him
for that, but it's weird, especially considering all the
bragging he likes to do." She shuffled her feet again. "I'm
being hard on him. I don't mean to be doing that. I guess I
still like him enough to offer some sympathy, though."
O.E. waved his hands in the air to interrupt them. "You
call this sympathy?"
Constance put her hands on her hips and stared at him
with slit eyes. "You should be grateful that she came at
all, O. Ego." She turned back to Rebecca. "You know, just
because he's a big talker, doesn't mean he can't follow
through every once in a while. And for as long as I've known
him, I have never seen him take money from anyone."
Wait, she's supporting him? Was Constance telling her
that O.E. was worth a second chance? Rebecca wanted to
like him, wanted to trust him. But with all that ego and
nothing else to support it, she couldn't figure him out. Now
here was Constance, assuring her that he wasn't a moocher
-even going so far as to say that she admired the man.
Rebecca needed to know more. "How long have you
known him?"
"Since we were kids."
She's known him for a long time. And she was a
Westerley, someone who wouldn't put up with a thieving
loser. Constance's recommendation carried weight. "And? Is
there more to him than his big-talking mouth?"
Constance looked at O.E. with a half-smile. "There
certainly is. But you'd never know it, looking at him now
with his jaw wired shut." She turned back to Rebecca.