Changing Lanes: A Novel by Kathleen Long Read Free Book Online Page A

hadn’t waved out of the goodness of their hearts. They’d wanted a lift to their destinations before the impending storm hit.
    A smattering of raindrops hit the windshield, stopping as quickly as they’d started. Thank goodness. I had no idea which button turned on the Beast’s windshield wipers.
    I glanced down at the grouping of buttons to the left of the steering wheel and frowned. I refocused on the road just in time to see an elderly woman step off the curb directly in front of me. Slamming on the ancient brakes, I silently thanked God when the cab stopped without plowing the woman down.
    She wore only a thin housedress and a pair of slippers as she bent alongside the curb, lifting what appeared to be a very dead houseplant from a pile of trash waiting for the weekly pickup.
    The woman looked up at me, her stare a bit vacant, a bit lost.
    Mick’s mom—Mrs. O’Malley. I’d recognize her anywhere, even if she’d obviously lost weight and seemed to be a bit confused.
    I waved and smiled. Mrs. O’Malley waved back, then cradled the dead spider plant in her arm, climbed back to the sidewalk, and began walking away.
    Raindrops hit the windshield once more, this time a bit harder and without any signs of letting up.
    I pulled close to the sidewalk, shifted the car into Park and reached to crank down the passenger window. “Mrs. O’Malley. It’s Abby Halladay. Can I give you a lift home?”
    Mick’s mother slowed to a stop, tightening her grip on the dead plant. The rain picked up in intensity, and brown tendrils of leaves and stems spilled over her arms. A shriveled leaf broke free, fluttering to the cobblestone path beneath her feet.
    “Mrs. O’Malley?”
    She looked at me then, her brow furrowed as if trying to place me. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” she asked.
    “No, ma’am.” I smiled. “I graduated years ago. I went to school with Mick.”
    The older woman’s frown gave way to a smile, the skin around her eyes softening, her entire countenance shifting to one of warmth. “He’s a good boy, my Mick.”
    I climbed from the cab and slowly walked to where she stood. “Yes, he is.”
    “Did you know he’s going to be an architect?” she asked.
    I nodded, reaching out my hand. She’d grown frailer since I’d seen her last. I thought back fondly to the days when she’d climbed the ladder to the tree house to bring Mick and me freshly baked cookies or tall, cool glasses of milk. She’d had a smile that could brighten even the darkest corners of a room, and her fiery auburn hair had been the envy of every woman in Paris.
    She’d gone to high school with my mother, graduating just a few years ahead, but as I took in the set of her shoulders and the paleness of her skin, Detta O’Malley seemed a decade older than I knew her to be.
    I slipped out of my sweater and draped it around her shoulders. When I took her arm in mine, my heart caught at the feel of her bony elbow beneath my fingertips.
    She turned to study me, her faded blue gaze searching my face. “Do I know you?”
    “Abby Halladay, Mrs. O’Malley. Madeline and Buddy’s girl.” I steadied her as I turned her toward the cab. “Mick’s friend.”
    “He’s a good boy, my Mick.” She walked beside me now, more easily led than I would have imagined. “Did you know he’s going to be an architect?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” I said, as sadness bubbled up inside me. So this was why Mick had come home. After years of staying as far away from Paris as he could, he’d come back to take care of his mother. And though I suppose that should have surprised me on some level, it didn’t.
    At the core of who he was, one thing had always held true about Mick. He had a heart of gold, even if he did his best to hide it.
    I helped Mrs. O’Malley settle into the passenger seat and fastened her lap belt. She held the plant and its crinkled tendrils out of the way.
    “Should I put the plant in the back?” I asked.
    Detta shook her head fiercely.