LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

nose and her blue eyes were intense, a gift from Paul as Jamie’s eyes were brown. Paul had called her his “Little Doe” or sometimes, “my brown-eyed girl,” other times “Raggedy Bitch,” or even more often, “What the fuck, Jamie?” which was how she most often remembered him and their relationship. A sad truth.

      “That’s the Stillwell place,” Jamie said as they drove past the entrance to the long drive that led to Race and Deon Stillwell’s home. She’d learned from her friend, Camryn, whose contact with Jamie was mostly through Christmas cards, that both of the Stillwell parents were gone and the two sons had apparently inherited Stillwell Seed and Feed and still lived in the family home.

      Harley peered down the long, passing drive that wound through the hedges and out of sight. Only the roof of the house could be glimpsed from the road. “That’s where you were the night Emma was stabbed.”

      “Yes,” Jamie said soberly. She always felt that same stab of guilt. Maybe she deserved it. Mom had never hidden her feelings about how she felt about Jamie’s switch with Emma, and she’d never been afraid to talk about that night in front of Harley, even when Jamie had protested.

      “It’s really too bad,” said Harley.

      Jamie silently agreed.

      “But if things hadn’t happened that way, I wouldn’t be here. You would have never run off with Dad.”

      Jamie wasn’t sure whether that was an olive branch or a jab of some kind. Or maybe it was neither. Just Harley relating what was on her mind. “Hard to say.”

      They drove into River Glen proper. The downtown area was made up of restored storefronts and a central square. It looked better now, Jamie decided. Fresh paint on the buildings and crosswalks. A new set of traffic lights. Modern city meters that allowed for credit card payments. A row of Kelly-green motorbikes, which she saw were rentals, the kind you could take around town and exchange for another.

      “Wow,” Harley said in surprise, staring at the bikes.

      “I know, right? I thought those were only in large cities, like Portland.”

      “How old do you have to be?”

      “Sixteen, I’m sure, at least. With a license.”

      “Damn.”

      Jamie would have berated her for swearing, as she automatically did as a matter of course, but they were turning onto Clifford Street, the street she’d grown up on, and she could see the outlines of her mother’s house. She glided to a stop on the opposite side of the street, taking her measure of it. The maple trees lining the street had grown, and the dogwood in the center of the front yard still had a few green leaves. Autumn hadn’t gained its harshest grip yet.

      An older, green Chrysler minivan was parked on the street in front of the house, its side stenciled with Theo’s Thrift Shop and a phone number. Theo was eager to pass off her increased caretaker responsibilities to Jamie.

      “Aren’t you going to pull in?” Harley’s blue eyes regarded Jamie critically.

      “Yeah . . .”

      “What’s wrong?”

      “It’s just kind of . . . strange.”

      “’Cause Grandma’s gone.” She said it with a nod, as if she understood completely, though there was no way for Harley to grasp the intricacies of Jamie’s relationship with her mother. Jamie had trouble grasping those complexities herself sometime. She’d resented her mother, especially for blaming her, but she’d loved her, too. Fiercely. Which had made Mom’s anger at her all the harder to accept.

      “All right,” Jamie said now, and cranked the wheel, aiming the Camry toward the driveway. They bumped along the cracked asphalt, and Jamie pulled up in front of the garage door. “Leave everything for now. Let’s just go inside.”

      Harley followed Jamie up the back steps. Jamie wondered if the keys to the house were still in the backyard gnome. One of these days she was going to have to find out, but for now, she just banged on the door.

      She heard a dog barking, small, excited yips, and she and Harley exchanged a glance. While Irene Whelan had been alive, there had been no pets.

      “Dogs dig up gardens,” Mom had said.

      “We don’t have to have a dog,” Jamie had argued. “How about a cat?”

      “No.”

      Even Emma had tried to persuade their mother. “A small dog. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get into the garden.”

      “No.” Mom had been adamant. Emma had started wheedling, but for once, Mom was proof against Jamie’s older sister’s tactics. No dog. No cat. No pets.

      Emma came to the back door, throwing the lock and yanking it inward. “Hi, Jamie. Hi, Harley,” she said in her monotone way.

      Emma’s hair had grown out to her shoulders, the light brown tresses darker and streaked with gray. She blinked at the bangs hanging in her eyes, but didn’t brush them aside. Her shirt was light-and-darker-gray-striped, the tails hanging over a pair of black sweatpants. Her feet were in once-white sneakers that had seen better days.

      “Good to see you, Emma,” Jamie said, sounding somewhat stiff, not how she wanted to come off.

      Harley said, “Hello, I—” just as a black-and-white streak of fluff shot from the front of the house and swarmed their feet, nearly tumbling down the back steps in its haste to greet them. A small dog of indiscriminate breed, Jamie determined, its bright, beady eyes nearly obscured by a thatch of white-and-black fur that fell forward, much like Emma’s bangs.

      “How cute!” Harley cried, reaching for the animal. It lithely sidestepped her attempts to catch it and started barking madly, as if it suddenly decided it was a watchdog pointing out an intruder.

      “That’s Dummy,” said Emma.

      “Dummy?” Jamie repeated.

      “He has a stupid name, so I call him Dummy,” she explained as they entered the house. “He’s Theo’s.”

      “I saw her van outside,” said Jamie. Harley was still trying to corral the speeding dog.

      “It’s the Thrift Shop van,” corrected Emma.

      “Yes . . . well . . .” Jamie was reminded how everything had to be precise with her sister.

      They followed Emma inside, with “Dummy” squirreling after them, squeezing between their legs, nearly tripping them, then shooting forward like a dart when Theo, who’d been in the living room, ducked her head around the corner so they could see her.

      “Oh, we’ve been waiting for you!” she declared, unable to hide her relief. She’d called Jamie several times, urging her to hurry home, but Jamie had been unable to get here any sooner than she had.

      Theo’s hair was a mop of gray curls and she wore a pair of half-glasses at the tip of her nose. She was in jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt open over a black T-shirt.

      “I saw the van outside,” said Jamie.

      “That thing is on its last legs. Truly. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when it’s gone, but that day is coming.”

      “I’ll get you a new one,” said Emma.

      “I know, doll.” Theo smiled indulgently at her.

      With what money? Jamie almost asked, but she knew that would be a waste of time. Emma’s reality was Emma’s reality.

      Harley asked, “What’s the dog’s name?”

      “Bartholomew,” Theo said. “He charged to the back door before I could catch him.”

      “Dummy,” Emma said with a nod, as if her point were proved.

      “He’s so cute!” said Harley.

      “Yes,

Скачать книгу