Miss Julia Lays Down the Law by Ann B. Ross

Author:Ann B. Ross
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

I lowered the tent flap and scrooched up tighter, feeling the platform give with each of Coleman’s steps as he walked to the end nearest the street. Through the noise of traffic and the generator, I could barely hear him call down to Roberta, who was now apparently standing below the platform.

“You didn’t need to do this, Roberta,” Coleman said, as I pictured him leaning over the edge to look at her. “But I sure do appreciate it. Hold on, and I’ll winch the bucket down.”

I heard the sound of her voice yelling up to him, but I couldn’t make out the words. I was too busy worrying that she would recognize my car and want to know where I was. But as the conversation went on and no one demanded my appearance, I gradually relaxed. Roberta—bless her heart—was so otherworldly that she probably didn’t even notice the car.

Then I began thinking she might see the ladder. And if she did, she’d find me and want to know what I was doing and why I was hiding in a tent. Well, that was easy to answer—I didn’t want anybody to know I was there. And Coleman didn’t want anybody to know I was there, either, because maybe he didn’t want Roberta to know there was an easy climb to his side. And maybe it was a good thing I was there—Coleman might have need of a chaperone.

I eased the flap open to a tiny slit and peeked out to see Coleman squatting on the far edge of the platform, looking down. A McDonald’s sack—easily identified by the golden arches printed on it—sat beside him, and the bucket in which it had ascended was dangling from the pulley. Roberta had completed her good deed and, to my mind, it was time for her to go.

Besides, my limbs were beginning to cramp up—I needed to straighten them out, I needed to stand up, I needed to get out of that tiny tent and go home. What could Roberta be talking about for so long?

I continued to pick up the odd word here and there, as I watched Coleman nod his head and thank her over and over. Finally, though, he stood, McDonald’s sack in hand, and watched as Roberta apparently walked away toward the street. Then I saw the back of her head rise into view as she climbed the bank toward the railing.

My word, I thought with a gasp, as I watched her straddle the railing with her skirt hiked up on her thighs. I couldn’t believe it, but she’d gone home from Sue’s and changed clothes. In this chilly weather, made colder by the wind of passing cars, Roberta was wearing a tight-fitting, V-necked pink mohair sweater—I could see the little fuzzy fibers blowing in the breeze.

Coleman came back to his chair, opened the sack, and, rummaging around in it, said, “Let’s see what we have here.” Pulling out a large cup, he uncapped it, then said, “Oh, man, hot chocolate.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.