Just Add Water (1) by Jinx Schwartz Read Free Book Online Page B

they do anything?”
    I explained the options. Daddy was
silent for a few moments, then said, “Best dawg I ever had was an ole Red Bone
hound with three legs. Lost one to a bobcat when he was just a pup. He got
around mighty fine. ‘Course he fell on his nose when he tried to point, but he
was still a fine fella.”
    I smiled. A little homegrown homily
goes a long way to boost the spirits of a displaced Texan.
    “What did you
call him? And don't give me that old ‘Lucky’ joke.”
    “Tripod.”
    I laughed aloud,
then sighed. “Daddy, I wouldn’t mind having a three-legged dog, but taking his
leg off won’t buy us anything. And he’d have to go through all the pain. I
mean, he’s bound to suffer anyhow, from the cancer, but it doesn’t make sense
to cut off his leg and still have him die in six months. I wish I didn’t have a
choice. Like with people.”
    “I’m not so sure
about that. There’s a few folks woulda put down Grandmaw Stockman if they’da
had a chance.”
    I snorted into
my wine. My great grandmother had died at one hundred and one, some say of
disappointment. After claiming to be fading away from every known disease for
fifty years, she finally succumbed to old age. Very mean old age.
    “I guess it’s
true, only the good die young. In our family we live long and get meaner with
each year. There’s a depressing thought. I’m doomed to feel like this for
another fifty someodd years?”
    “Beats the
alternative. Wish there was something I could do to help you and RJ.”
    “You already
have.”
    “Hell, I didn’t
do nothin’.”
    “You were there.
I needed to whine and you listened. Thanks. Let me say good-bye to Mama, then
I’ll talk to you next week, okay?”
    “Okay. Love
you.”
    “Love you, too,”
I said, then waited while my mother took the phone.
    “The thing to do
is keep busy,” she advised. “It’ll take your mind off RJ’s problems and let you
enjoy him while you can.”
    “I will, Mama.
Actually, I was thinking of taking sailing lessons.”
    There was a long
pause. “Mama?”
    “Use sunblock,
Hetta. Boating is very bad for your ski-yun.”
    I hung up and
decided to take her advice about keeping busy. And the sunblock. Sitting
around, moping all afternoon or getting drunk, wasn’t going to get me anywhere
except mopey drunk. I fired up RJ’s car and we went for a drive. Three hours
later, I called Jan.
    “How’s you?” I
asked.
    “More
importantly, how are you? I called twice and when you didn’t answer I thought maybe
you’d decided to end it all after I left.”
    “I felt like it
when I saw that hot tub. But I’m too much of a coward to kill myself. Death
hurts, I’m sure of it. Besides, if I didn’t commit harikiri in Japan when Hudson jilted me, I never will. Stupid, ain’t
it, how you think something is so damned tragic you can’t possibly live another
day. Now, years later, I’m facing a real loss and the thing with Hudson doesn’t
amount to a hill of beans. Although,” I said, fingering the key hanging around
my neck, “I would like to know what happened to the dirty rat bastard.”
    “We’ll probably
never know. When was the last time you heard from Interpol?”
    “At least a
year. Anyhow, enough of that. RJ and I just got back from the library. You
should see all the books I’ve got on sailing. Oh, and I’ve signed us up for a
U.S. Coast Guard boating safety class.”
    Jan groaned.
“Why can’t you have a hangover, like I do?”
    “Well, I do, but
I decided to take RJ to the park and the library was right there and one thing
led to another. We start in two weeks.”
    “Start what?”
    “The Coast Guard
class.”
    “Hetta, I’m not
going. No way. No how. Not a chance. And that’s that.”
    “We can buy real
cool sailing gear.”
    “No.”
    “There’ll be men
there.”
    “What kind of
cool gear?”
     

8
     
    A snowy-bearded man in smart whites
waved us to school desks at the front of the room and wrote his name,