Pie Town by Lynne Hinton Read Free Book Online Page B

see you at the birthday party,” he said, referring to Alex’s weekend party. “Hey, how about bringing me a soda from your cooler?” he asked. “A little service can go a long way with customer loyalty.”
    Frank grinned and walked over to Mary’s car and sat down in the driver’s side. The keys were still in the ignition, and he cranked the car and pulled it into the open garage bay.
    Oris stood at his car next to Mary Romero. “So you’re going to have to help me out here, Mary,” he said. “What happens on Wednesday?”
    “I go to Mass in the morning, and then I drive out to be with Clarence,” she replied, appearing as if she didn’t care to talk to the man questioning her.
    “Mary,” Oris responded, trying to sound sympathetic, “Clarence is dead.”
    “I know Clarence is dead!” she shouted, pulling her arms around her waist, her purse slamming against her hip. “I go to the cemetery and eat lunch with him every Wednesday,” she explained.
    “Somebody serves food at the cemetery?” he asked, appearing bewildered.
    She blew out a long breath and rolled her eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I take my own lunch, an enchilada and some chips,” she said.
    “You take Clarence anything?” Oris asked. “Or do you just eat in front of him making him even more envious of the fact that he’s dead and can’t have lunch?”
    A young boy, a summer worker at Frank’s garage, came toward Oris and Mary with a couple of cans of soda. “Mr. Frank says you owe me two dollars.” He handed them the drinks.
    “Well, for God’s sake,” Oris complained. He pulled out his wallet and got two one-dollar bills. “You should find somewhere else to work, young man. Frank Twinhorse is a bad influence.”
    The boy shrugged and turned away, stuffing the bills into his pockets.
    Both Oris and Mary popped open their drinks and took long swallows.
    “So what were we talking about?” Oris asked. Before Mary answered, he recalled the conversation. “Oh, that’s right. You’re eating lunch at your husband’s grave, and you were getting ready to tell me what you take him to eat.”
    “He likes posole,” she answered.
    Oris smiled. “Well, now that’s the truth,” he noted. “Green chile on the side?” he asked.
    Mary turned to face the man. She seemed to soften. “Of course, green chile on the side. How else would I serve my loving husband?”
    Oris laughed.
    “You used to eat lunch together every week,” she said, recalling the friendship her husband had with Oris.
    He nodded. “At the café. Tuesday special. He’d get his posole and green chile. I’d have a burger.”
    “He used to tell me you were always trying to find somebody to pay for your meal.” She laughed and took another swallow.
    “That is not true. Clarence is the cheapest man I ever knew. I was always having to pick up the check for him.” He shook his head. “He said he never had any money because you spent it all on shoes.”
    They both glanced down at the woman’s shoes. They were dressy sandals, and they looked new.
    “I have my own money,” Mary said. “Always have. And besides, you’re the one who’s cheap,” she added. She glanced behind Oris. “Except for your cars, Oris Whitsett. When did you buy this one?” she asked.
    Oris looked behind him at his new Buick. “Got a nice trade-in a few weeks ago, down at the dealership in Albuquerque. She’s a beauty, isn’t she? You should see the size of that trunk.” He took a sip of his drink, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “A man is only as good as the car he drives.”
    Mary shook her head. “Clarence said you wasted a lot of money buying so many cars and trading them in.”
    “Clarence drove a pickup truck that didn’t have a floorboard. He never bought a new car his whole life.”
    “Clarence liked tractors,” Mary commented, remembering her husband and how he spent his money.
    Oris nodded. “Well, yes, he did. Clarence did not mind