Читать книгу A New Attitude - Charlotte Hughes - Страница 11

MARILEE HAD BEEN CLEANING nonstop for several hours when the doorbell rang. She hesitated before opening the door, afraid that it was Sam Brewer, returning the iron. She was a mess, having changed into old gray sweats and sneakers, and she smelled of disinfectant. Marilee would almost prefer giving Sam the dang iron, just to keep from facing him again. In fact, she was tempted not to answer the door at all, but after three rings she realized she had no choice. When she opened it, she found her best friends, Clara Goolesby and Ruby Led-better, standing on the other side.

“Marilee, you have a lot of explaining to do,” Clara said, frowning so hard her black eyebrows touched in the center, as though someone had drawn a straight line across her forehead with a black marker. Her short hair, dyed black as crow’s feathers to hide the gray, stood in tufts, a sure sign that she was upset, because she had a habit of plucking the ends when she was anxious about something. The town librarian, Clara was usually quiet and reserved, the exception being when she discovered food spills or dog-eared pages on her beloved books. Then she was a menace.

“Darn right she owes us an explanation,” Ruby echoed, crossing her arms over her breasts. She was a diminutive blonde, no bigger than a minute but a formidable opponent when riled. As owner of Classy Cuts Hair Salon, she was a shrewd businesswoman who tried to stay one step ahead of her competition, Martha Grimes, who ran The Hair Affair.

“What in heaven’s name were you thinking, Marilee?” Clara insisted. “How could you just disappear on us like that, without telling us where you were going? If it hadn’t been for my exceptional memory, we’d never have found you.”

Ruby looked at Clara. “Your exceptional memory? Hell’s bells, Clara, we searched for almost seventy-two hours before you thought of coming here.”

“That may be true, Ruby, but I’m the one who remembered how Marilee couldn’t bear to sell this place after her poor sweet mama died. And you don’t have to resort to foul language to get your point across.”

Marilee looked from one woman to the other. “Is something wrong?”

Both women gaped at her. Clara drew herself up and sniffed as though she smelled something foul. “Did you forget you were supposed to play the piano at the Grace Blessing Home benefit luncheon on Saturday?”

Marilee gasped. “Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes! We had more than two hundred women show up from six counties who paid twenty bucks to eat overdone roast beef and listen to you play Mozart on Richard Griffin’s baby grand piano.” She paused to catch her breath. “And after all we went through to get that piano inside the school auditorium and pay to have it tuned. Well,” she added in a huff, “Alma Jones ended up playing hymns, and the poor thing is so old she’s tone deaf. Marilee, how could you!”

“Yes, how could you!” Ruby seconded. “We had a devil of a time getting that piano back to Mr. Griffin. Not to mention having to pay for another tuning.”

Clara nodded. “And that’s not the half of it. We collected almost a thousand dollars selling raffle tickets, but guess who still has the pure silver antique candelabra in the trunk of her car?”

Marilee paled instantly. Not only had she forgotten about the benefit luncheon, she hadn’t remembered that she held the prize for the winning raffle ticket. She felt a wave of panic wash over her. And just when she’d decided to get her life in order and start afresh.

“You can just imagine how mad Esmerelda Cunningham was over the whole thing,” Ruby said. “Especially since she donated that dumb candelabra and claimed it’d been in her family since before Jesus was born.”

“Ruby!” Clara frowned and shook her head, then turned her attention back to Marilee. “Esmerelda said we had twenty-four hours to collect the candelabra or she was going to have you arrested.”

“Arrested!” Marilee cried. “Does she think I stole it?” Her heart began to beat faster. After all that had happened, the last thing she needed was to go to jail.

Clara shifted her gaze. “We didn’t know what to think. Especially with Grady getting fired from the church over some…well, you know.” Clara paused, as though trying to come up with the right word.

“Two-bit whore?” Ruby offered.

Clara cut her eyes at the woman. “Honestly, Ruby, the things you say.”

“Esmerelda said you probably hocked that candelabra and hightailed it out of town,” Ruby said. “Not that anybody’d really blame you, after all you’ve been through.”

Clara gave an embarrassed cough. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go into that right now, Ruby.”

Marilee was still hurt over Esmerelda Cunningham’s accusations. Esmerelda was Chickpea’s wealthiest citizen and the closest thing to royalty the town had ever seen. Marilee, who’d been involved with the fund-raiser since its conception, had personally asked the woman for a donation and had discovered she was not only a snob but stingy as well. Esmerelda had agreed to part with her beloved candelabra, but she’d been none too pleased about it.

Her first thoughts were of Grady. He could handle Esmerelda. But no, Grady was no longer in the picture. It was up to her. Her. She suddenly realized just how many problems Grady had taken care of in their sixteen years of marriage. Now they were her problems. Her moment of truth hit her in the face like a lead pipe. She was now solely responsible for her own life. That in itself was enough reason to pawn the candelabra and leave town.

Clara plucked at her hair. “No Mozart, no raffle prize. Can you imagine how utterly ridiculous we felt?”

“And Benson Contractors walked off the job this afternoon for nonpayment,” Ruby told her. “Bobby Benson said he wasn’t going to make any more repairs to Blessing Home until he was paid—in full.”

“What about the roof?” Marilee asked frantically.

Clara shook her head sadly. “The money we raised won’t come close to covering it. Bobby nailed plastic over the holes in the roof and left without so much as a fare-thee-well.”

“We’ll never be able to come up with that kind of money,” Ruby said. “Not legally, anyway.”

Marilee sank into the nearest chair. “I am so sorry.” She was close to tears. They had been working for weeks to raise funds for the unwed mothers’ home, and she had let everybody down.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find lodging for twelve pregnant girls in a town this size?” Clara asked, tapping the toe of her shoe impatiently. “My place is no bigger than a shoebox, and I’ve had two seventeen-year-old expectant mothers living with me for weeks now. Then, today, they get into a catfight, and one of them packs her bags. Which reminds me—”

“I would gladly take the girl in,” Ruby interrupted, “but my place is smaller than Clara’s.”

Marilee jumped up from her chair and started toward the kitchen. “I’ll call Bobby Benson right now and explain.”

Clara turned to close the door, then paused at the sight of splintered wood. Instead of saying anything, she merely shook her head, as though nothing would surprise her at this point.

Ruby followed Marilee. “Bobby left town this afternoon for a week-long fishing trip.”

“How could you do this to us?” Clara repeated. “I’m so mad I can’t stand it. Why, I feel like slapping somebody.”

“Slap Marilee,” Ruby said, “if it’ll make you feel better.”

Marilee stepped closer. “Go ahead. It certainly beats having my head chewed off.”

Clara drew herself up proudly. “I happen to be a lady, and I prefer to act like one, even if you did let us down.”

“Enough, already!” Marilee cried, feeling as though she might pull her hair out any minute. “You’ve made your point. I blew it!”

Both women stared at her openmouthed. “Dear, you don’t have to shout,” Clara said. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with our hearing.”

Marilee planted her hands on her hips. “I know the two of you are going to find this hard to believe, but I’ve been preoccupied the past few days. My life has completely fallen apart, so I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack.”

“What Grady did was despicable,” Ruby said gently, only to have Clara nudge her hard. “Oh, Clara, stop it. We have to talk about it. We can’t just pretend it never happened.” She walked over and hugged Marilee. “Honey, how did you find out?”

“Grady told me,” she said calmly. “Said he had feelings for another woman and was tired of living a lie. Said he didn’t belong on the pulpit. Josh overheard the whole thing. By the time Grady met with the church board and received his dismissal, Josh had packed his father’s clothes, as well as his own.”

“Oh, Marilee, how awful for you,” Clara said.

“You must’ve started packing as well,” Ruby said. “By the time Clara and I heard the news, you’d already up and gone.”

“I was too embarrassed to stay. All I could think of was coming here.”

Clara’s look softened. “I wouldn’t really have slapped you.” She paused. “Marilee, what happened to your neck?”

“What I want to know is what happened to that ceiling beam?” Ruby said, glancing up.

Marilee gave a grunt of disgust. “I tried to hang myself.”

Clara gasped. “Marilee, how can you say such a thing?”

Ruby shot her a dark look. “That’s not a bit funny. Not one bit.”

“Hang yourself, indeed,” Clara quipped.

Marilee realized she’d gone too far. She must be hysterical. “I’m sorry. Truth is, I have termites. As for my neck, I think my mother’s pearl choker caused a rash.” She was surprised how easily the lies slipped from her lips.

“That’s the very reason I don’t wear jewelry,” Clara announced. “It makes me break out every time. As for those termites, you’d better have someone take care of it right away. I’ve heard what kind of damage they can do. You wouldn’t believe what happened to my cousin.”

Ruby frowned and shook her head. “Hush, Clara. The last thing Marilee needs to hear is one of your horror stories about what happened to somebody in your family. Can’t you see the poor girl has enough on her mind? Her husband has dumped her for a woman with tangerine-colored hair, and her son wants nothing to do with her. Why, folks can talk of nothing else. I don’t know how poor Marilee will ever be able to show her face in public again. I think she can wait a couple of days before worrying about stupid termites.”

Marilee’s look was deadpan. “Thank you, Ruby. I feel much better now that you’ve put it all into perspective for me.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

“I suppose we shouldn’t have been so hard on you because you forgot the benefit,” Clara said. “I wouldn’t be so upset if Esmerelda hadn’t caused such a ruckus. And then those pregnant girls had to get into a snit with one another. I had to break it up. Which reminds me—”

“Grady has lost his mind,” Ruby declared. “It’s that blood pressure thing. The minute a man has health problems he has to go out and prove to himself he’s still got what it takes. You ask me, I think the scare brought on his midlife crisis. Either way, he’ll come around.”

Marilee hitched her chin high as she thought of all Grady had put her through the past few days. She had been so hurt at first she couldn’t stop crying. Well, the hurt and self-pity were gone. Now she was mad as hell.

“He’d better not come around here. He’s going to rue the day he moved my son into that…that trollop’s mobile home.”

Clara nodded, but she looked distracted. She fidgeted with her hair again. “Uh, Marilee, we have a small problem.”

“He’s vermin,” Ruby continued. “Worse than vermin. And everybody knows LaFonda Bonaire is white trash. Why, that’s not even her real name. Her real name is Betty Clump, but she paid to have it changed because she thought it would give her class. Ha! She’s still trash, and the only reason Grady fell for her is because she’d let him eat anything he wanted whenever he came into the Tick-Tock. And here you were trying to see that he ate a healthy diet and got plenty of exercise.”

“Ruby, what are you talking about?” Marilee asked, her face masked with confusion.

“LaFonda was stuffing him with pecan pie behind your back.”

Marilee’s look turned to disbelief. “Are you telling me that my husband walked out on our marriage because another woman fed him pecan pie? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, that’s part of it,” Clara replied. “My friend Janie Gilbert who works at the Gazette said it was almost sickening the way LaFonda carried on around him. Janie said LaFonda had been giving Grady the come-on for weeks.”

“A man can only take so much temptation, Marilee,” Ruby said. “Even a fine, upstanding minister like Grady.”

Marilee felt foolish that everybody in town had known about her husband and LaFonda long before her. “Why didn’t the two of you say something?”

“Because Grady was a man of God,” Clara said. “I thought he was way above that sort of thing.”

“Ruby’s right,” Marilee groaned. “I’ll never be able to show my face in this town again.”

Clara waved the comment aside. “Stop talking like that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Marilee’s in a lot of pain right now,” Ruby said, “and rightly so. You’re probably still in shock, too, honey,” she added, patting Marilee on the back. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Listen, sugar, I’ve got a pint of whiskey beneath the seat of my truck. I’ll grab it if you like. One good swig will calm your nerves.”

Clara gasped. “Why, Ruby Ledbetter, I don’t believe what I’m hearing. I would never have figured you for a drinking woman. And you a Southern Baptist of all things.”

Ruby seemed to take offense. “Don’t you go questioning my spirituality, Clara Goolesby. I may be a Baptist, but I have had my share of stress. And there’s nothing like a good shot of whiskey to ease the jitters when you don’t have time to whip your vehicle over to the side of the road and pray.”

“I hardly think it’s necessary to resort to blasphemy,” Clara said stiffly.

Marilee looked from one to the other, wondering if the two women would come to blows. How they’d managed to remain friends all these years made her wonder. “Okay, let’s calm down,” she said. “I’m sure we can work this out. I’ll call another roofer first thing in the morning.”

“And pay him with what?” Ruby asked. “Clara’s good looks?”

Clara glared at her. “That was a low blow, considering you cleaned out your savings account last year on an eyelift and tummy tuck.” The ring of the doorbell prevented Ruby from answering. “Oh, that must be Winnie,” Clara said. “She fell asleep in Ruby’s truck on the way over, and we didn’t have the heart to wake her, poor thing.”

“Who’s Winnie?” Marilee asked.

“You remember, Winnifred Frye from Blessing Home.” Clara didn’t wait for a response. “I’ve been trying to tell you since we arrived, but Ruby wouldn’t stop yammering. Winnie has been staying at my place, but she and the other girl got into a big fuss. You’re going to love her, Marilee.”

“I am?”

“I guess I’m going to have to answer the door, since neither of you look so inclined,” Ruby said, making her way from the kitchen. “You go ahead and break the news to her, Clara.”

“What news?” Marilee asked.

Clara seemed hesitant. “Winnie has no place to stay. I was hoping you’d put her up until we figure out what we’re going to do about Blessing Home.”

“Me? Clara, are you out of your mind? I can’t take care of anyone right now. My life is in shambles.”

“So is Winnie’s. But you have a roof over your head, don’t you? Not to mention a warm bed. That’s all poor Winnie needs. Until we can make further arrangements,” she added. “Besides,” she added with a whisper, “you owe me for not forcing Grady to take one of the girls in when we first started looking for temporary housing.”

Marilee was still embarrassed that Grady had not offered to house a girl while Blessing Home was being restored. True, he’d supported Blessing Home in other ways, taking up separate collections, asking for clothes and nonperishable food, but he’d balked at having an unwed mother in the house. He thought it would be a bad influence on Josh. Marilee wanted to laugh at the irony.

“Which girl was Winnie?” Marilee whispered to Clara. “Was she that petite redhead with the pixie face?”

“I’m Winnie,” a husky voice said. “And I’ve never been petite. Not even when I was born.”

Marilee turned in the direction of the voice and froze at the sight of the tall black woman. She was at least six feet tall, and her shoulders filled the doorway. “Oh.” She forced a smile. “How nice to meet you, Winnie. I’m Marilee Abernathy.”

Winnie responded by blowing a big bubble with her chewing gum. It popped, and she sucked it in. “I know who you are. Didn’t your old man just walk out on you?”

Marilee blushed. Was there anyone in Chickpea who hadn’t heard about her problems? “Well, yes.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed,” Winnie said. “My man left me too. After he knocked me up, that is.”

“Oh, how awful. You must’ve been devastated.”

“Yeah. Killing him would be too good for him, but I’m going to do it anyway if I ever lay eyes on him again.”

Clara suddenly looked anxious. “Please don’t talk like that, Winnie dear. We’re Christians.” She paused. “You don’t…uh…have any weapons on you, do you? I don’t believe in carrying guns.”

“I don’t need a gun. I’ve got my bare hands.”

All three women were quiet for a moment. Finally, Marilee spoke up. “How far along are you, Winnie?”

“Five and a half months. I’ve got a while.”

“Have you eaten?” she asked, wishing she had more to offer the girl than a sandwich. She hadn’t figured on needing many groceries.

“Nope. I’m starving. You got any Twinkies lying around?”

“I’m afraid not. But I have bologna and cheese and a whole loaf of bread.”

“Long as you don’t put those nasty bean sprouts on it,” Winnie said, rolling her eyes. “Clara is big on bean sprouts.”

Marilee looked at Ruby, who was dwarfed beside the young woman. “Would you mind making Winnie a sandwich while I have a word with Clara?”

“Sure.” Ruby turned for the refrigerator.

Marilee grasped Clara’s hand tightly and led her into the bedroom, where she closed the door. “Clara, what on earth are you thinking? I can’t take in this girl.”

Clara shook free. “I was thinking I might get a little peace and quiet, if you want to know the truth. She and the other girl fight constantly. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, because you haven’t been down in the trenches like the rest of us.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the one who had to knock on mean old Esmerelda Cunningham’s door and beg her to give us something for the raffle.”

Clara went on as though she hadn’t heard her. “Oh, you don’t mind making a few phone calls to ask for donations or playing Mozart in front of the ladies to show off your skills as a pianist, if and when it’s convenient for you. But heaven forbid you have to actually open your home to some poor pregnant gal who has absolutely no one to turn to.”

Marilee plopped onto the bed. “That’s not fair, Clara. You know I’d help if I didn’t have so much turmoil in my own life. I have to find a job. Do you know how long it has been since I’ve worked? All I know how to do is sing and play the piano. And bake cakes.”

“Winnie won’t be any trouble. She goes to school every day, and she’s a straight-A student. Plans to attend right up ‘til the baby comes, and as soon as she graduates she’s going to the community college here.” Clara paused. “Marilee, Winnie has never been in trouble in her life. She’s a good girl. Her only mistake was getting involved with a smooth-talking man who hit the road the minute she became pregnant. And her parents—” Clara pursed her lips in annoyance “—God-fearing Christians they are, they kicked her out the minute she told them. Honey, she has no one.”

Marilee pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. What next? she wondered, half-afraid to ask the question in the first place, in case she was in for another shocker. Her family had left her, they’d been kicked out of the church, she’d missed playing for the benefit luncheon, Esmerelda Cunningham was threatening to send her to jail and now Clara wanted her to take in an unmarried, pregnant girl.

And to think that a few days ago her life had been relatively normal.

“Oh, Clara,” she cried, shaking her head.

“Listen to me, Marilee. You know what it’s like to be rejected by those you love. That’s exactly what Winnie’s feeling right now, although she’d cut her tongue out before admitting it. She’s just a kid. Seventeen years old. Not much older than Josh.”

Marilee wanted to hide her head under a pillow and not have to think about it. How could she help someone else’s child when she hadn’t been able to help her own? How could she not? “Well, I suppose I could take her in for a couple of days,” she said at last. “Until other arrangements can be made. You realize I can’t make any long-term plans right now.”

Ruby appeared in the doorway. “Winnie said to thank you for the sandwich, but she had to be on her way. She took her sandwich with her.”

Marilee looked up. “On her way where?”

Ruby shrugged. “She didn’t say.”

“And you let her get away?” Clara cried.

“What was I supposed to do? She’s twice my size.”

“She can’t just leave,” Marilee said, jumping from the bed. “She has no place to go.”

Clara made a tsking sound. “I should have known something like this would happen. That girl can be downright ornery. Come on, Ruby, we’ll have to go after her.”

“I’ll go,” Marilee said, hurrying out of the room. She slammed out the front door. A moment later, she spotted Winnie; it would have been hard to miss her considering her size. “Winnie, wait!” she cried. “You can’t go.” The girl continued on. Marilee sped up. “Winnie, please don’t go.”

The girl turned as Marilee caught up with her and stopped so abruptly Marilee almost slammed into her. “What do you want?”

“Please don’t leave.”

“Look, lady, I may be black, broke and pregnant, but I’m not stupid, okay? I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

“Hurt my feelings?” Winnie gave a snort. “You can’t hurt my feelings. Nobody can. I’ve got a thick skin, but I’m thin on patience. And I don’t feel like listening to some white woman bellyaching ‘cause her husband left her. I’ve got my own problems, thank you very much.” She turned and began walking again.

Marilee stood there, aghast. Here she’d been trying to help the girl, only to be insulted. “Excuse me,” she called out, “but I am not grieving over my husband. I’m upset because my son left with him. And don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of wimp, because I’m not. I’m a lot stronger than you think.” She was only vaguely aware that the day had turned cold and a fine mist was falling. “Hello,” she called out angrily.

Winnie turned. “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to be somewhere.”

“Today? Right this minute?”

“It’s important.”

It was starting to rain. “Perhaps you could stay the night. You need to get out of this wet weather. It can’t be good for the baby.”

The girl seemed to ponder it. “Okay,” she said with a great deal of reluctance. “I suppose I can stay one night, but I definitely have to be somewhere tomorrow.”

“Fine. You can spend the night, and tomorrow I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”

“As long as you don’t start crying again. I can’t be around negative people in my condition.”

Marilee tried not to take offense at the remark as they started back for the house. “Do you like hot chocolate? It’ll chase the chill away.”

“Yeah, and may I have another sandwich? I’m not crazy about bologna, but I’m eating for two now, you know.”

Marilee nodded. “Yes, certainly.”

Winnie nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll sleep at your place tonight, but I’m outta here first thing in the morning.”

“First thing,” Marilee agreed.

“But not too early,” Winnie said. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I don’t have school. I’ll probably sleep till about ten o’clock.”

“Ten o’clock then.”

“And I like to drink juice and read the funnies before I start my day.”

Marilee wasn’t about to tell her she didn’t get the newspaper and there was no juice in the house. Besides, she didn’t have time to worry about it; she had to concentrate on getting along with Winnie until another home could be found.

It wouldn’t be easy. The girl had attitude.

NELL BREWER TOOK A BITE of her spaghetti, gagged and spit a mouthful into her napkin. “Sam, this is the worst spaghetti sauce I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

He regarded his mother. “Don’t beat around the bush, Mom. Tell me how you really feel.”

“How can you mess up something straight out of a jar?”

“It tasted bland so I added spices.”

She was making faces. “Tastes like you dumped a cupful of oregano in it.”

“You don’t have to eat it.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

With a disgusted sigh, Sam stood. He picked up both plates and carried them to the kitchen sink, where he dumped the contents into the garbage disposal. He flipped on the switch and waited for the ruined dinner to disappear. The disposal ground to life, wheezed and died.

Nell hurried over. “Well, would you look at that? Your cooking is so bad it broke the garbage disposal.”

“My cooking has nothing to do with it. I just need to press the reset button and it’ll be okay.” Sam opened the cabinet door then reached beneath the disposal and located the reset button. He pressed it, but nothing happened.

Peering over his shoulder, Nell gave a grunt. “I knew we should have ordered takeout.”

Sam rose quickly and collided with his mother, almost knocking her to the floor. He reached out to keep her from falling, his patience lost. “Mom, would you please get out of my way!”

She crossed her arms. “Don’t you raise your voice to me, Samuel Brewer. I’m still your mother, whether you like it or not. I’m just thankful your father isn’t here to see how you treat me.”

“Mom, please move.”

“You refuse to let me cook in my own kitchen, despite the fact you haven’t the slightest notion how to go about it. It’s a wonder we haven’t both died of ptomaine poisoning. You won’t even allow me to take a bath by myself. Well, I’m tired of being treated like I don’t have the good sense God gave me.”

Sam closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. The woman was driving him crazy. He opened his eyes and forced a smile to his face. “Look, Mom, we’re both tired. Why don’t you go into the living room and watch TV? I’ll have this disposal fixed in no time.”

She shook her head. “We should call a plumber. Someone who knows what he’s doing. You’ll only end up making it worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered as she left the room.

Sam grabbed a broom and stuck the handle into the disposal, turning it counterclockwise. While he worked, he listened to Jeopardy in the next room. He liked the show, and the answers, at least most of them, came easily to him. He figured that wasn’t bad for a man who’d waited until his mid-twenties to get his GED. But he’d had a hankering for knowledge as long as he could remember, and despite staying in trouble most of his high-school years, his grades had been high. He supposed it was because he’d always enjoyed reading.

Construction work had been grueling, leaving a man—at least him—too tired to sit in bars and try to pick up women, as his buddies had. He got to where he preferred going home to a good book. He’d read most of the classics because he thought it was important. He’d studied history and politics and economics. Since he hadn’t the slightest idea what a portfolio was, he’d read everything he could about investments. Sam didn’t believe in luck. He believed a person had to earn their way in this world by using their brain. After twenty years, he could retire right now and never worry about a dime, but he enjoyed what he did. He was not afraid of hard work.

Sam pressed the reset button and the disposal ground to life. Smiling, he called out to his mother in the next room. “Told you I could fix it.” There was no response. No doubt she was still angry that he’d raised his voice to her.

Sam began cleaning the kitchen. Thankfully, his mood had improved by the time he finished. He knew he owed his mother an apology, so he walked into the living room with one on his lips, but paused in surprise when he didn’t find her in her recliner as he’d expected. It wasn’t until he switched off the TV set that he heard the sound of running water. Muttering an oath under his breath, he hurried to the bathroom door and tried the knob.

It was locked.