From Hell to Breakfast by Joan Opyr

Author:Joan Opyr [Opyr, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: ! Yes
ISBN: 9780979412073
Publisher: Blue Feather Books
Published: 2009-01-15T06:00:00+00:00

150

He grimaced. “That is not an incentive. If you’ll recall, my gate swings in the other direction. Still, if I can get away from work, I’ll be there.”

“Are you still a raging success or have they fired you?” I asked hopefully.

“With my bonus this year, I’ll pay off the mortgage. But don’t despair. It’s not too late for you to grow up and join us corporate troglodytes. When do you finish your assorted MAs?”

“One in December, the other next May.”

“My goodness. That Sylvie must be a kitten with a whip. No!”

He raised his arms to deflect the cushion I’d tossed at him. “I’m just kidding. What do you plan to do then?”

“I don’t know. Spend the summer as a greeter at Wal-Mart and then become a Sun Valley ski bum.”

He took his feet off the coffee table and stood up. “Forget everything I said. I’m going to wake Sylvie up and tell her to leave you. You’re worthless.”

I whacked the back of his knees and he fell onto the sofa.

“Not entirely,” I said. “I have decided to put my Sam and Emma experience to good use. My psychology master’s is in counseling.”

He laughed so loudly I had to shush him again. “Sorry.

Whatever happened to physician, heal thyself?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said with a feast of eye-rolling. “How’s your mother?”

I debated giving him a dismissive answer. My mother was the same. She was insane. We both knew that. My brother’s death had blown a hole in Emma’s life the size of a truck. Since she was herself the size of the sun, the hole was sometimes hard to see, and yet there it was, a great sucking vacuum, demanding to be filled.

The problem was not that I was unable to resist family intrigue; the problem was that I was afraid my mother might collapse on herself like a dying star.

I said, “She and my dad have sold the house. They gave up fighting the Ag Chemical people and accepted a financial settlement. At some point, they’re going to build a new house on a new piece of property and shift twenty years worth of books and trash and ratty old furniture to some sterile, white-walled, cracker box of a house.”

“Ach,” he said, affecting a German accent. “Und how do you feel about zat?”

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