Lone Star by Paullina Simons Read Free Book Online Page A

bottomlands. Yet every few years it floods catastrophically through the marsh at its delta. It causes immense destruction. In 1977, the river flooded, and the National Guard was called in to help the locals cope. That’s how Jimmy Devine, National Guard, met Lang Thia, whose father was a prominent local businessman who made hearing aids.
    Her mother didn’t need a hearing aid. She came to the window near which Chloe was hiding and said into the screen, “Chloe, come to the table. Dinner is served.”
    With a great sigh, Chloe peeled away from the wood shingles and walked, head hung, to the door.

5
The Irish Inquisition
    L ANG TURNED ON THE LIGHT ABOVE THE SMALL RECTANGULAR table. They sat silently, their hands folded. They blessed their food. Jimmy said amen. Chloe asked him to pass the potatoes. Jimmy poured Lang a jasmine ice tea. Lang poured Jimmy a beer. They cut into their pork chops. The silence lasted two or three minutes. Jimmy had to get some strength before he began, though he looked pretty strong already. Chloe’s dad was a big Irish guy, blond-haired once, now gray, blue-eyed, direct, no nonsense. He was funny, he was easy, but he also had a temper, and he never forgot anything, neither a favor nor a slight. It was almost his undoing, the merciless blade of his memory. Sometimes he had to dull it with whiskey. Tonight Lang eased him into Chloe’s summer plans by letting him eat for a few minutes in peace while she grilled Chloe on irrelevant matters.
    â€œDid you do your homework?”
    â€œIt’s senior year, Mom. No one gives homework anymore.”
    â€œThen what do they give you a fourth-quarter grade for?”
    â€œShowing up mostly.”
    â€œSo no tests, no quizzes, no overdue projects, no missing labs, no oral presentations, no incomplete class assignments?”
    â€œEnough nonsense,” said Jimmy, having fortified himself on meat. “What’s this your mother tells me about you wanting to go to Barcelona?”
    Her father looked straight at her, and Chloe had no choicebut to stare back. “Did my mother tell you that she wants me to enter into a story contest? Ten-thousand-dollar prize.”
    â€œI don’t see how the two are related.”
    â€œI have nothing to write about.”
    â€œCome to work with me for a day or two. You’ll get three books out of it.” Jimmy Devine was the Fryeburg chief of police, like his father and grandfather before him. Fryeburg, Maine. Pop. 3,500. Settled in 1763 by General Joseph Frye, and incorporated in 1777, exactly two hundred years before the bad luck of the paleo floods two thousand miles away, just so Chloe could now sit impaled on the stake of parental chief-of-police disapproval.
    â€œReally,” she said with irritation. “Books on what, breaking up domestic arguments and littering?”
    â€œNice. So now even my work, not just your mother’s, is denigrated?”
    Chloe regrouped. “I’m not denigrating, Dad. But our hearts are set on Spain. Hannah and I have been talking about it for years.” By not saying yes immediately, they were denigrating her !
    â€œHow in the world can Hannah afford Barcelona?” Jimmy asked. “Her mother is at the bank every other day asking for an overdraft increase. And your friend, who abandoned you to do Meals on Wheels by yourself on Saturdays because she claims she has a job, often skips out on the one lousy four-hour shift she has at China Chef. So where’s her trip money coming from?”
    Chloe hated how her dad knew everything about everybody’s business. It was terrifying. She stopped eating and stared at her father, the bite of pork chop lodged in her dry throat. Did he know why Hannah was skipping out on China Chef? God, please, no. A demoralized Chloe couldn’t withstand even two minutes of modest interrogation.
    â€œWhy do you want to go so much? Tell me.”
    Her entrails in knots, Chloe said