Last Train Home by Megan Nugen Isbell Read Free Book Online Page A

here.”
    We kept walking, in silence this time , until I saw Holly waiting by the doors.  I noticed the way she looked first at me and then at Alex.  The same distain she’d shown earlier was still on her face.  I didn’t fault her though.  She had a history here.  She knew these people, I didn’t.  But, I wasn’t going to take her word for anything until I’d had a chance to judge for myself. 
    “I’ll see you on Saturday then,” Alex said , gently touching my arm as we neared the door. “Hey, Holly,” he said, smiling at her and then walked out the doors toward the parking lot.
    “That was weird,” she said , watching him for a second before turning back to me.
    “What?”
    “I don’t think Alex Bettencourt has said a word to me since sixth grade.  I figured he’d forgotten my name.”
    “Maybe he’s not as bad as you think,” I suggested a nd she looked at me doubtfully.
    “Baby steps, Riley.  Baby steps.”
     

Chapter Five
    When I got home, my mom was reading in the recliner and my grandma was on the couch watching her stories.  Her stories.   That cracked me up.  Back in Boston, we just called them soap operas. They both looked up when I walked in.  My grandma smiled and my mom made an attempt to smile.  I hadn’t seen her when I left for school in the morning and we hadn’t said much to each other since the blowout in my room the day before.  Things were still tense between us. I was still mad.
    “Riley!” my grandma said when I walked inside.  Just like my uncle, my name crawled out of her mouth.  I was beginning to think I should just change my name to Raleigh if that’s the way everyone was going to pronounce it.  I shook my head though.  I was not the capital of North Carolina. 
    “Hi, Grandma,” I said, walking over and giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
    “How was your day, hun?”
    I looked over to my mother who was peering at me over the top of her book.  She reminded me of Karen from my English class and I wanted to speak to her about as much as I’d wanted to speak to Karen. 
    “It was good, Grandma.  How was yours?”
    “Fine, just fine,” she said cheerfully. “Lizzie took me to the doctor and then the store.”  I was still trying to get used to people calling my mom Lizzie.  I’d only ever heard her referred to as Liz. 
    “The doctor?” I asked curiously. “Is everything okay, Grandma?”
    “Oh , yes.  I’m fine,” she reassured me, taking my hand and patting it gently. “I’m making pork chops for supper.”
    I cringed and I felt bad havin g to tell her I had to skip dinner.
    “I’m sorry, Grandma, but I’m going out tonight,” I said apologetically, but then she smiled.
    “You’ve already got a boyfriend then?  I’m not surprised.  You’re simply gorgeous.  I’m sure all the boys are admiring you,” she said, smiling from ear to ear.  I wished I’d known my grandmother more.  I wished we hadn’t lived so far away.  She was such a funny, happy woman.  Always smiling, always positive.  She seemed the complete opposite of my mom and I figured my grandpa must’ve been more reserved and had passed it on to her.
    I started laughing and sat down beside her on the couch.
    “No, Grandma.  I don’t have a boyfriend.”
    “It won’t be long though,” she interrupted.
    “I’m just going over to someone’s house.  We’re having hamburgers and riding four-wheelers.  I wouldn’t be booking any reception halls just yet.”
    “ Who’s house are you going to?” my mom said, speaking her first words to me since I walked in.  I turned my head abruptly to meet her blue eyes with my nearly black ones.  We looked nothing alike.  My mom was pretty.  She always had been, but in the last couple of years, she seemed to have aged.  I’m sure it was the stress of the divorce from my dad that had added the gray strands into her ash blonde hair that she kept covered by visits to Sonja, her beautician.  The hairs