Porch Lights by Dorothea Benton Frank Read Free Book Online Page A

upset her nerves. It just wasn’t worth it. I’d pick up something for him at the drugstore when I went out. It wasn’t a bad idea to have our own first-aid kit anyway. Then if I needed a Band-Aid I’d know where to find it without having to explain every nick and splinter.
    I took off my jeans and pulled on a pair of shorts. I didn’t want to go to the beach without Charlie, but I wanted to feel the sun on my legs. I picked up a magazine from the stack in my room and wandered out to the front porch. Mom was sitting there deeply engrossed in one of the many romance novels she loved. I knew it had to be a hot one because it had a calico print cover over it, like something she might have picked up at a craft fair to disguise the erotic promise of the cover’s art.
    “Whatcha reading? Are things bulging and bursting?”
    I startled her.
    “What? What did you—? Bulging?” She took her reading glasses off and narrowed her eyes at me. “You listen to me, young lady. You know I only read these books for the history!”
    “Oh, I see.” I giggled, and so did she. “And where is this historic saga placed?”
    “Tenth-century Scotland! The ladies of the Castle MacDougall are in hiding because the lord of the manor has gone insane from a terrible fever. He’s running amok with a hammer, threatening to bludgeon anyone whose shadow crosses his. Pretty exciting stuff. Come sit with me.”
    “Does he have black flashing eyes?” I sat in the rocker next to hers and flipped the pages of my magazine. Who cared about all those stupid movie stars anyway? They were all twenty years old with fake boobs and fake long hair and too many real tattoos. You could swap one for another and never know the difference. “And a thick mane of hair to match?”
    “Of course! And his shirt has come free of his kilt and—”
    “What’s he wearing under that kilt anyway?”
    “You know I cover my eyes when I get to that part.”
    “Of course you do. I know that. I would too.”
    Mom laughed, and I thought at that moment she was the most benign creature in the world.
    “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said.
    “Me too.”
    “Where’s Charlie?”
    “Snoozing. He’s completely fried.”
    “I imagine so. That’s a long trip for a kid. And with everything else . . .”
    “Yeah, I’m thinking just let him find his schedule, let his body get the rest he needs for his brain and his bones. Have you heard from Dad?”
    She bristled. “Certainly not!”
    “No, I mean, he told Charlie he’d come down and see him, show him how to make ice cream.”
    “In what? That old churn under the house?”
    “Yep, that’s the one. You know where it is?”
    “Of course I do! Glory be! That nasty old thing is probably filled with bugs and snakes!”
    “You think I’m afraid of bugs and snakes?”
    “No, dear.” She shot me an anti–GI Jane look of dubious support and continued. “But better to go over to Haddrell’s and buy a new one. You don’t have to churn anymore. Now you just flip a switch. Electric. On my momma’s soul, there’s a new gizmo every five minutes. But I have such sweet memories of turning that old crank with my momma . . . and with you when you were a little girl.”
    “I think I like the old-fashioned way better,” I said, “maybe because it’s a sweet memory for me too.”
    With those simple but heartfelt words, we found our first moment of solidarity. I suddenly realized that I wanted Charlie to have the memory of churning ice cream the old-fashioned way. Solidarity was sure to come and go over the coming weeks, but we were united in one purpose. Charlie.
    Don’t ask me what else we talked about, because I think we talked about everything in the world that afternoon, everything that wasn’t too heavy, that is. We took turns checking on Charlie, who was sleeping soundly, which pleased both of us to no end. We probably drank a gallon of tea while the sun moved from east to west and finally began to set. She