Red Ruby Heart in a Cold Blue Sea (9781101559833) by Morgan Callan Rogers Read Free Book Online

been acting strange, lately? You haven’t wanted to sleep with me. You haven’t even wanted to kiss me. Oh, I’ve noticed, Lisa. I’m not blind.”
    â€œMaybe not,” Dottie said, “but you’re ugly.”
    We giggled, and then a commercial came on and Grand got up.
    â€œAll right,” she said behind us in the kitchen. “Get in here you girls. Dorothea, you get them bowls over there and Florine, you get out the flour and sugar.”
    â€œWe can do this,” I said again, but Grand waved me off.
    Dottie got out the bowls and sat down as Grand and I gathered all of the ingredients.
    â€œDorothea, get up and take a couple sticks of butter out of the fridge,” Grand said.
    â€œWhat kind of people name a kid Dorothea?” Dottie said. “I hate my name.”
    â€œIt’s a beautiful name,” Grand said. “Your father’s grandmother Dorothea was a wonderful woman. You cut the butter up into little pieces and wash your hands first.”
    Dottie dragged herself over to the sink and turned on the tap.
    â€œUse soap,” Grand said. “That’s right. Just like that.” She looked at me. “You too.”
    â€œI know,” I said, and muttered under my breath, “you don’t have to tell me.”
    â€œSeems like I do,” Grand said, somehow managing to hear me.
    I bumped hips with Dottie at the sink and the soap popped out of her hand and flopped onto Grand’s kitchen floor. We reached for it at the same time and bumped heads.
    â€œOw!” I hollered.
    â€œShit!” Dottie yelled.
    Grand bent down and picked up the soap. “If I’d wanted a show, I would’ve turned on
The Three Stooges
,” she said. “Lucky you two got hard heads.”
    Dottie said, “I’m sorry I swore.”
    â€œSorry accepted,” Grand said.
    I poured white and brown sugar, cracked eggs, tipped vanilla into a spoon and took a deep snort of it. Grand measured flour, baking soda, and salt. The butter chunks thumped as Dottie cut them into a bowl. A breeze chased through the kitchen, touched the back of my neck, and moved on. Grand hummed “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”
    â€œI got the messiest job,” Dottie said.
    â€œYou done yet?” Grand asked. She took the bowl from Dottie, dumped the butter pats into the sugar and egg, and began mixing it together with a wooden spoon. Then she added chocolate chips and mixed it again. The back fat on her arm wobbled as she gave the ingredients hell, still humming away. The skin on her elbow reminded me of pictures I’d seen of elephants’ knees.
    Dottie and I smeared Crisco over cookie sheets, and Grand spooned dough onto them. Dottie picked at the dough. Grand said, “Dorothea,” and Dottie took her hand away.
    Grand bustled into the living room for a go-round with a second soap opera, leaving us to pick up the kitchen. Dottie scraped the sides of the dough bowl with a fingernail. I took it from her and set it in the sink to soak, put spoons and cups into the soapy water in the bowl.
    â€œI got a black and blue?” Dottie asked, tilting her head so her brown bangs fell away.
    â€œNo,” I said. “Me?”
    â€œNo,” Dottie said. “I’m going over and get Ma to let us go swimming. Bring them cookies over when they’re done.”
    â€œYou’re supposed to help clean up,” I said.
    â€œI got to move,” she said. “Come over in a little while. Don’t forget them cookies.”
    â€œDorothea gone?” Grand asked when she came to check the cookies.
    I nodded. “She couldn’t even help clean up.”
    â€œWell, she’s a restless soul. Her great grandmother, the other Dorothea, was, too. I never saw someone keep so busy. I’d see her down in the clam flats, digging up dinner, feet and legs in muck up to the knees. Then, later I’d see her beating carpets she’d