08bis Visions of Sugar Plums by Janet Evanovich Read Free Book Online

Connie is a couple years older than me. She has big hair, big boobs, and a short fuse. And she could probably kick my butt from here to downtown Trenton. Good thing for me, Connie never feels compelled to kick my butt since Connie and I are friends.
    I called Connie and asked her to check on water and electric accounts for Claws. Between semi-clandestine computer searches and the tight-knit network of Burg women who love to dish, there isn't a lot of information Connie and I can't access.
    I'd barely disconnected with Connie when my cell phone chirped. It was my mother. "Help," she said.
    I could hear a lot of hysterical shouting going on in the background. "What's happening?"
    "Valerie took one of those home pregnancy tests, and now she's got herself locked in the bathroom."
    "Don't worry about it. She'll come out when she gets hungry."
    "It's our only bathroom! I've got two kids home from school for the holidays, an old lady with a bad bladder, and your father. Everybody needs to use the bathroom."
    "And?"
    "Do something! Shoot the lock off."
    Now if I was any kind of a good sister and loving daughter I'd have sympathy for Valerie. I'd be worried about her physical and emotional health. The ugly truth is, Valerie was always the perfect child. And I was the kid who had the skinned knee, consistently flunked spelling, and lived in Lala Land. My entire childhood was an out-of-body experience. Even as adults, Valerie had the great marriage and gave birth to two grandchildren. I had the marriage from hell that ended before my father got the wedding reception paid off. So, I love my sister and wish her well, but it's hard not to smile once in a while now that her life is in the toilet.
    "Uh-oh," Diesel said. "I'm not sure I like that smile."
    "It sort of slipped out. Actually, I need you to help me with a domestic problem. I need a lock opened."
    "Someday I should show you some of my other skills."
    Oh boy. It's never good when a man starts talking about his skills. Before you know it you're in the garage watching a power tool demonstration. And after all the power tools are revved, there's only one tool left to haul out of the box. Someday a study should be done on the effect of testosterone production in the presence of a band saw.
    Everyone was huddled outside the bathroom when I got to my parents' house. Mary Alice was galloping in circles and the rest of my family was alternately pacing and yelling and banging on the door.
    "Pretty amazing," Diesel said to me. "I'm always knocked out by the way a family can be at the upper end of dysfunction and insanity and still work so well as a unit. Do you want me to open the door?"
    "No." I was afraid they'd all rush in and someone would get trampled in the stampede. I went downstairs to the kitchen and out the back door. There was a small roof over the back stoop, and the roof butted up to the bathroom window. When I was a kid I used to sneak out the bathroom window to hang with my friends. "Give me a boost up," I said to Diesel. "I'll bring her out through the window. Then you can open the door."
    Diesel laced his fingers together, I put my foot in his hands, and he lifted me to roof level. I scrambled onto the roof and glanced down at him. He was impressively strong.
    "Could you stop a runaway freight train?" I asked.
    "Probably not a freight train. That would be Superman."
    I looked in the window at Valerie. She was sitting on the toilet lid, staring at the little test strip. She looked up when I knocked.
    "Open up," I said. "It's cold out here."
    She pressed her nose to the window and looked out. "Are you alone?"
    "I'm with Diesel."
    She looked down to the ground, and Diesel waved to her. It was a goofy little finger wave.
    Valerie opened the window, and I climbed inside.
    "What's going on?" I asked.
    "Look at my test strip!"
    "Maybe it made a mistake."
    "It's the fifth time I've taken the test. They keep coming out positive. I'm pregnant. I'm goddamn pregnant. Albert Kloughn got