First Grave on the Right by Darynda Jones Read Free Book Online

one last sweep of the area, stepped out of the bathroom, bracing myself for the oohs and aahs my face would elicit.
    “What the bloody heck in Hades for crying out…” Cookie had put the coffee cup down. She picked it up and started over. “What happened?”
    “Ooh!” Amber crooned, skipping over to me for a better look. Her huge blue eyes widened as she studied my cheek and jaw. She looked like a wingless fairy, the promise of grace evident in every stride she took. She had long dark hair that fell in tangles down her back, and her lips formed a perfect bow.
    I chuckled as her curiosity drew her brows together in deep concentration.
    “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” I asked.
    “Fiona’s mom is picking me up this morning. We’re going on a field trip to the zoo and Fiona’s mom is a chaperone so she told Mr. Gonzalez we’d just meet the class there. Does that hurt?”
    “Yep.”
    “Did you hit back?”
    “Nope. I was unconscious.”
    “No way!”
    “Way.”
    Cookie pushed past her daughter and studied my jaw for herself. “Did you get checked out?”
    “Yeah, by a hot blond who sat in the corner of the bar and made googly eyes at me.”
    Amber giggled.
    Cookie pursed her lips. “I meant by a doctor.”
    “No, but a balding yet bizarrely hot paramedic said I’d be fine.”
    “Oh, and he’s an expert?”
    “At flirting,” I said. Amber giggled again. I loved the sound, like a tinkling wind chime in a soft breeze.
    Cookie leveled a chastising motherly glare on her, then turned back to me. She was one of those women too big for the one-size-fits-all category, and resented the commie makers of such clothing wear. I once had to talk her out of bombing a one-size-fits-all manufacturing company. Other than that, she was pretty down to earth. She had black wiry hair that hung past her shoulders and lent itself nicely to her reputation as a witch. She wasn’t one, but the furtive glances were fun.
    “Any coffee yet?”
    Cookie gave up and checked the pot. “Seriously, this is beyond torment. This is like Chinese water torture, only less humane.”
    “Mom’s going through withdrawal. We ran out of coffee last night.”
    “Uh-oh,” I said, grinning at Cookie.
    She sat at the counter with me as Amber rummaged through my cabinets for Pop-Tarts. “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Cookie said, “Amber wants your dad to get a teriyaki machine so she can sing for all the lonely barflies.”
    “I’m a good singer, Mom.” Only a twelve-year-old could make the word mom sound blasphemous.
    I leaned into Cookie. “Does she know it’s not called—?”
    “No,” she whispered.
    “Are you gonna tell her?”
    “No. It’s much funnier this way.”
    I chuckled, then remembered Cookie’s doctor’s appointment the day before. “How’d your visit go? Any new debilitating diseases I should know about?”
    “No, but I have reaffirmed my respect for lubricating jelly.”
    “Fiona’s here!” Amber said, flipping her cell phone closed and rushing out the door. She rushed back in, kissed her mom on the cheek, kissed me on the cheek—the good one—then rushed back out again.
    Cookie watched her go. “She’s like a hurricane on crystal meth.”
    “Have you considered Valium?” I asked.
    “For her or me?” She laughed and headed for the coffeepot. “I get the first cup.”
    “When do you not get the first cup? So, what’d the doc say?” Cookie didn’t like talking about it, but she’d once fought breast cancer, and the breast cancer almost won.
    “I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “He’s sending me to this other doctor, some kind of guru in the medical community.”
    “Really? What’s his name?”
    “Dr.— Hell, I don’t know.”
    “Oh, him.” I grinned. “So he’s good?”
    “Supposedly. I think he invented internal organs or something.”
    “Well, that’s a plus.”
    She poured two cups, then plopped down beside me again. “No, I’m fine.” She stirred sugar and