We Five by Mark Dunn Read Free Book Online

said to her daughter, “I’m sure she means well.”
    â€œI’m sure she does,” agreed Carrie, nibbling around the burnt part of a piece of toast.
    Mrs. Hale looked both ways down the street (as if her daughter’s friends might have taken leave of their attendance to practicality and created a new and even longer route by which to come and pick up Carrie). “Or maybe they have gone to fetch Jane first for some reason. How is Jane, by the way? You haven’t spoken of her lately.”
    â€œShe’s fine. All of my sisters are doing well.”
    â€œI really wish you wouldn’t call them your sisters. By proper definition, they really aren’t your sisters, now are they? They are your friends. The only real family you have in the world is sitting right here, still wondering why you’ve hardly touched your waffles. And after I bought a brand new tin of Log Cabin syrup! Pure cane and maple syrup. Not that cheap Temtor Maple Flavor stuff. I don’t know what’s in that rot. It looks like motor oil.”
    â€œThe waffles are soggy, Mother, and I haven’t put any syrup on them, real or otherwise. I don’t think you left them in the iron long enough.”
    â€œI wish Vitula weren’t sick so often. I worry she has T.B.—that little cough she always has.”
    â€œI think she coughs because she smokes, Mother. I think she steals a puff or two when you aren’t looking.”
    Mrs. Hale harrumphed. “It’s so unbecoming—women who smoke. Like those wanton flappers. Drink your orange juice.”
    â€œThere’s a gnat in it.”
    â€œI don’t know why we came out here.” Mrs. Hale blotted the corners of her mouth (which, like her daughter’s mouth, had welcomed very little food inside) and placed her crumpled napkin next to her plate. “Who knew we’d have to contend with Mrs. Littlejohn so early in the morning?”
    â€œI like it out here, Mother. And I’m glad Maggie and Molly are late, because it gives me the chance to discuss something with you that’s been on my mind for a couple of days now.”
    â€œWhat is it, dear? I so hate it when things trouble you, and you keep it all bottled up inside. It isn’t healthy.”
    â€œIt isn’t something that’s necessarily troubling me, Mother. It’s just something that came up, which I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
    Sylvia Hale gave her daughter a look with which Carrie was quite familiar. It involved a rimpling of the lips and a slight bulging of the eyes and it said, “I don’t believe any part of the statement you just made but will pretend otherwise through this fixed expression, certain to indicate full acceptance of whatever banana oil you might wish to peddle me.” At the same time she gurgled, “And of course there should be nothing of any substance bothering you, my dear. For aren’t things, on the whole, going quite well for us? You have that nice new job with Sister Lydia, and I have my charity work, and there is enough rental income from the properties your grandfather left me that we want for very little, so long as we don’t become too extravagant in our tastes.”
    A pause. A breath. An opening.
    â€œWell, you know, Mother, it’s very interesting Mrs. Littlejohn should mention the Prowses. Because I just happened to bump into Bella Prowse at Blue Delft on Saturday.”
    An arched brow. “Oh, you’re calling her Bella, now, are you?”
    â€œWell, she does live next door to us, Mother. And I do happen to remember her from grammar school. Anyway, I was buying those nut-center chocolates you asked me to get for the piano candy dish, and I was standing in front of the Johnston’s display.”
    â€œYes, I noticed they were having a sale—the dollar boxes of the mixed chocolates were going for eighty cents to the pound. You are a savvy shopper for that