I Heart Beat by Edyth; Bulbring Read Free Book Online

second and then turns away. “I’m sure they mean well. Never judge a book by its cover, Beatrice,” she says. But she looks cross. Like I’ve caught her in a lie. But I haven’t said a word. Not one.
    Grummer says she’s going for her walk. She has her pre-breakfast walk and her pre-supper walk. She takes an hour’s exercise every day. No more, no less.
    I update my project file. I add two items to Target Venues: singles’ prayer meetings, book club meetings (Thursdays). Things are happening fast. I am making progress!

Chapter 10
    I’M SUSPENDED IN a hammock among the quince trees at the bottom of the garden, having a lovely time. I’m on talk-show radio in Detroit, America, the Yoo Ess of Aye.
    The topic of the show is “What do you want for Christmas?” It’s a completely lame topic, but it’s the first time I’ve managed to use the technology that allows me to dial across the seas at the cost of a local call. I caught the show online and here I am, speaking to the American people. Yee-ha!
    I’ve already ordered a leg wax from Santa in my best Valley Girl accent and the lady wants to know what else I want in my Christmas stocking. I tell her I want my Mom to get out of rehab so I can leave this dump. The lady moves on fast.
    I’m just about to mention how I want a sober, professional, God-fearing geriatric for Grummer so I’ll never have to see her again, when the topic of the talk-show pitches. I kill the call.
    I’ve been used as a guinea pig all day. First, it was the steak casserole. Then the fish curry, and now Grummer’s at my side doing a reverse Oliver Twist impersonation with a bowl of chicken tetrazzini.
    â€œJust taste the sauce, Beatrice. You don’t have to eat a whole spoon. Just a small lick,” she begs, dipping into the pasta and chicken.
    I swallow hard and taste some. I declare it an absolute winner.
    â€œBut you said that about the other two. Decide for me please, dear. Which dish should I serve tonight?”
    Grummer looks so pathetic, I make the final decision. I tell her she should serve all three. They’re all winners.
    It’s Grummer’s big night. In approximately two hours, five book-loving people will arrive at our home to discuss the flavour of the month:
The Da Vinci Code
.
    Grummer’s “To Do” list has had six items on it for the past three days:
    1. Read
The Da Vinci Code
    2. Prepare points for discussion
    3. Cater
    4. Clean
    5. Arrange bookshelves
    6. Get Beatrice to read
The Da Vinci Code
    That last point got me worried. The only books I’ve read in the past five years are technology and cellphone manuals. But I download the audio version of Dan Brown’s book and listen to the first and last chapters. I read a couple of reviews off a book website and then update myself on the latest views from a couple of the million blogs on the subject. I come away with a few insights.
    The first is that, according to the book, Jesus and I have the same strategy. He also went fishing in the church pond to catch himself a nice religious girl. The second is that Jesus was a bachelor for a good thirty years before he pulled Mary. I’ve only got three weeks left to pull for Grummer and she’s twice his age, so time’s a bit of a factor. But I, too, can be patient. The third insight is that the Catholic Church is not a big fan of the marriage. In fact, Jesus kept it rather quiet until this Dan Brown character blew the whistle on him. I don’t think Grummer needs this sort of aggro when she gets hitched again, so I delete the Catholic Church from my Target Venue list. I’m down to a shortlist of two churches: Methodist and Dutch Reformed.
    Grummer calls me from the garden and asks me to smarten up before the guests arrive. So I take off my jeans (black) and T-shirt (black) and put on another pair of jeans (black) and another T-shirt (black).
    I go and help Grummer set