Loco Motive by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page A

generations were raised on farms, including Kristin on her parents’ wheat ranch.” He paused, juggling several bowls before putting them in the cupboard. “They did organic before the rest of the world caught on. Crafts, too. Almost everything was homemade, including clothes and bedding and rugs.”
    â€œOdd,” Judith remarked. “I can’t picture Kris’s mother building a tractor.”
    Mike made a face at Judith. “I said ‘almost.’” He was holding a salad bowl. “Kris does pottery, too. Where does this go?”
    â€œOne cupboard over, second shelf.” Judith considered taking more Excedrin. Her headache had come back.
    â€œGetting in touch with the earth and letting it nurture her was what Kris wanted, which is why she became a forest ranger in the first place,” Mike continued, hanging coffee mugs from hooks above the shelf where he’d put the salad bowl. “My part of the agreement was that I’d help with mundane chores.” Holding a cast-iron skillet, he gestured at the dishwasher. “Like doing this. Organizing and scheduling are her domain because she’s good at it.”
    â€œOh, yes,” Judith agreed. “She reminds me of Aunt Ellen—on speed.”
    Mike looked puzzled. “What’s wrong with that?”
    Judith sighed. “Nothing, I suppose. Aunt Ellen can hold down three jobs at once, volunteer for every needy cause in Beatrice, Nebraska, serve on I don’t know how many committees, manage a gubernatorial campaign, take night classes, raise three kids, attend all the Cornhusker football games with Uncle Win, and make crafts. She’s lived away from here for so long that she’s forgotten Pacific Northwesterners rarely wear earrings made out of corn kernels. And did we ask for a photo in a sunflower seed frame showing Aunt Ellen and Uncle Win standing in front of the world’s largest ball of twine in Cawker City, Kansas?”
    Mike grinned. “I get your point. But Kristin turns out some really cool stuff.” He removed the last items from the dishwasher and frowned. “I don’t know where the measuring cups and the vegetable peeler and the Tupperware go.”
    â€œJust leave them on the counter. Please. My head’s spinning.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    â€œYes!”
    â€œWhoa!” Mike moved closer to his mother. “Don’t you feel well?”
    Judith started to answer, but stopped. This would be the perfect time to mention her Sunday departure, but she couldn’t. She smiled wanly. “I’m just tired. It’s been a hectic year.” She saw the concern on his face. Although he’d inherited Joe’s coloring and red hair, his eyes were brown. As he grew older, he looked more like her own father. “I shouldn’t have pried about you and Kristin. To quote Aunt Ellen, it’s N-O-M-B —none of my business. I’m just so glad that the two of you have resolved your issues.” Oh, good grief, Judith thought, I’m spouting psychobabble. “I mean, meddling motherhood isn’t my style.”
    â€œForget it,” Mike said, kissing Judith’s cheek. “We’re fine.”
    â€œGood.” Her smile was genuine. “Tell your dad I’ll be up shortly.”
    â€œSure.” Mike started for the back stairs, but stopped short ofthe hallway. “I’m glad this worked out for us. The boys can’t wait to go trick-or-treating in the city after dinner Sunday. It’ll be fun to have them meet the neighbors, especially in the cul-de-sac.”
    â€œIt will.” Judith felt her smile freeze. “Night.”
    She watched her son disappear up the stairs. Before she could pick up the phone to call Renie, the two couples from Alaska returned, laughing their heads off. By the time Judith got to the entry hall, she could see only feet as they headed up to their rooms. The Canadian father and