Whiskey Heart by Coyne Rachel L

Author:Coyne, Rachel L. [Coyne, Rachel L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-89823-277-6
Publisher: New Rivers Press
Published: 2015-10-28T00:00:00+00:00

15

A bra’s wedding was suddenly only three days away. I woke that morning to find Blue under my bed again. Despite the hardness of the floor, he seemed comfortable enough. I noticed he’d even dragged a stuffed animal with him this time.

I shook him awake. At first he eyed me groggily, then smiled. “Hide,” he said, pointing at himself. Then he slid out from under the bed and trotted happily off to the kitchen. I put on my jeans and a T-shirt and followed him. I made coffee and watched Momma make French toast for breakfast. She talked while she worked. She and Constance were going to start cooking today. She wanted me to go to the Red Owl in town and pick up a few groceries for the wedding. She handed me a list the length of my arm.

I took it absently. “Momma,” I asked, “why do you think Blue keeps hiding under my bed? I always find him there in the morning.”

Momma looked surprised. “I didn’t know that,” she said.

“Has he done this before? Hide under beds?”

Momma shook her head, looking over at the boy. He was amusing himself, rummaging through the can cupboard. Momma’s expression grew thoughtful.

“I just think it’s strange,” I said.

Momma shot me a look. “You’re the last person to talk about strange.”

I made a face. I seemed to be hearing that a lot lately. “I just meant there’s got to be some reason why he sleeps under my bed.”

Momma’s face grew grim and her lips very, very thin. “I don’t know, Kat. Maybe it’s because his mother is a selfish drunk who doesn’t spend five minutes a day thinking about him.”

I stared at her.

Momma nodded at my list. “Now, will you please go take care of the shopping like I asked? I’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

≈

The Red Owl was kitty-corner from the ball field of Jordan’s school. Since it was midday, I wasn’t too surprised to find my niece leaning against the dumpster in the parking lot smoking a cigarette. Grinning unapologetically, She stomped out her cigarette and loped over to me.

Squinting off behind her, I could make out the little Buddha on the far side of the field. Engel seemed to be running at full speed, though at a pace no faster than an invalid walks. “Has he lost any weight this way?” I asked by way of greeting.

Jordan tucked her cigarettes into her shirt pocket and made a face. “Maybe fifteen pounds in the last three months. His mother weighs him twice a day. Before and after school. Why are you here?”

I showed her the list. “Abra’s wedding.”

We walked into the store together. I offered to let Jordan sit in the cart. She gave me a withering look.

In the end we needed two carts. The store was cool. The air-conditioning hummed loudly. It was almost soothing to push my heavy cart up and down the aisles alongside Jordan.

When we reached the checkout counter, there were three packs of cigarettes not on the list and a hibachi complete with charcoal and a dozen skewers.

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