Nothing but Trouble by Susan May Warren Read Free Book Online Page A

Then she shrugged. “Call me if you need anything.”
    The world would ice over before PJ lifted the phone.
    “Thanks, Mom.”
    “And by the way, be sure and stop by. I need your help with something.”
    Her mother’s words, like magnetic shavings, found those Connie had uttered, the ones that had propelled her home. “Even if she can’t admit it, she needs you . ”
    PJ leaned against the door, watching her mother navigate down the stairs and out to the car, then cast another look at the Russians. They seemed content out on the lawn, so she dragged her duffel up the stairs, surmising the location of thebedrooms. She found Davy sitting cross-legged on the floor in his room, working a PlayStation controller, eyes glued to his thirty-two-inch flat-screen TV. On the screen, a skateboarder did a beautiful flip.
    “Davy?”
    Deaf again.
    Connie had turned two of the bedrooms into her own private suite. PJ stood at the lip of the master, briefly contemplating commandeering the room for her stay. Navy brocade curtains fell ceiling to floor, pooling on the white carpet, and overstuffed pillows avalanched across the top of the king-size bed. A bouquet of fresh flowers adorned a round cherrywood table with silk-seated chairs pushed up to it, and upon a matching chaise longue in front of the window, a copy of The Purpose Driven Life lay upside down.
    Perhaps Connie had already found it.
    PJ edged away from the oasis and found the next available room, this one smaller. It appeared straight out of a Craftsman catalog, a milk-glass overhead fixture pooling light onto the pink chenille coverlet spread over the wide-slat double bed and white-on-white embroidered curtains at the window. Side tables held more milk-glass lamps, and a lowboy armoire with a mirror completed the Craftsman theme. The room came equipped with its own bathroom, vintage in pink tile and a freestanding scrolled sink.
    The room   —the entire house   —bespoke Connie’s order, her coordination. Her neatly attired life.
    PJ changed into her Superman lounge pants and a tank, then after another check on Davy, found the kitchen.
    On the granite counter lay a tome titled, simply, “David.”
    Just the first page had PJ searching the freezer for ice cream.
    Dear PJ, I know that David is in safe hands! Thank you for coming home to look after him. Please make yourself comfortable. I have suspended the cleaning service for my time away, but I know you won’t make much of a mess. Attached is a list of instructions that will assist you in taking care of David. Sergei didn’t have time to go to the bank before we left, so if you incur any expenses, we’ll reimburse you. Thank you again!
    Love, Connie
    1. David is allergic to peanuts. Please check all ingredients on prepackaged food.
    2. David spends thirty minutes each morning on one of his preschool Pilates tapes while his breakfast is cooking. You’ll find the selection on the shelves over his desk.
    3. Menus are attached. Please uphold the rules on good manners during mealtime. No chewing with open mouth, no speaking with mouth full, napkin on lap.
    4. David is to be in bed precisely at 7:30 p.m. No snacks after dinner, please.
    5. Please limit his PlayStation game playing to thirty minutes per day.
    Page 2 listed his favorite outfits, additional no-no foods, acceptable programming.
    No wonder Connie had left PJ, a woman with no visible parenting skills, with her precious son. PJ didn’t have to think really. Just follow the rules.
    Connie, of all people, should have known better.
    But PJ had made promises. And this time   —for two weeks at least   —she could keep them.
    Especially if she wanted to stick around. Maybe even make her mother proud.
    Yeah, right. Perhaps she should keep her expectations within reason.
    Rummaging through the refrigerator, she found some lemonade, added ice cubes, and wandered around until she discovered the back porch. Overstuffed rattan chairs, a hammock, and an indoor fountain