The Last Exit to Normal by Michael Harmon Read Free Book Online Page B

raspberries, tomatoes, and a bunch of other
stuff were lined up in meticulous rows and neat clumps. I spent three hours weeding and got halfway through it before
Miss Mae banged out the back door and told me to get washed up. I lurched inside and slithered into the shower, letting
icy water rush over me.
    I came downstairs to the smell of buttered peas, buttermilk biscuits, leftover meat loaf, loads of gravy,
and mashed potatoes with the skins on them. Miss Mae sat me down, brought me a plate full of food, and lathered my
potatoes in sour cream and butter. Then she lathered my meat loaf in gravy. She poured me a glass of milk, then got her
own plate. I watched her. “Thank you.”
    She sat across from me. “You worked today.”
    I realized I was being schooled, and didn’t mind it one single bit. My aches and pains lessened,
and I actually found myself in a good mood after hours of backbreaking labor in hundred-degree heat. And I was hungry.
I’d never eaten as much in a single day, and I couldn’t believe my stomach was growling after the lunch
I’d vacuumed down. “This looks awesome.”
    She set her napkin on her lap, staring at me until I did, too. “Say grace.”
    I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I didn’t want to spend another night
outside. “Grace.”
    She looked at me with a pinched mouth, the blaze in her eyes starting again; then she realized I
didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. She nodded. “Bless the food, Ben.”
    I blushed. Crap. The last time we’d said a prayer was never, and she’d nailed me again.
How did she do this to me? Nobody could make me feel this way, like I was three years old. I’d never said a
blessing, and she hadn’t brought it up before. I folded my hands. “Dear God, thanks for all this food and
everything, and thanks for the day. Amen.”
    She opened her eyes, then smiled. “It’ll do.”
    I dug in. Everything tasted golden, and I wouldn’t even have traded the peas for a Big Mac. For
ten Big Macs. Country people knew how to eat, and who cares about clogged arteries, I was into it. The meat loaf
melted in my mouth. “What time are my dad and Ed supposed to be home?”
    Miss Mae wiped her mouth with her napkin. “They called and said they’d be late.
Business things.”
    I was in heaven. Almost. I looked at her across the table. “Can I have a beer?”
    She didn’t look up. “Man works hard all day is entitled to a beer if he so
chooses.”
    I stood.
    “Sit down.” She stood, getting me a beer from the fridge, then brought it back, her eyes
twinkling as she held it. “You ain’t a man yet. What do I get?”
    I looked at the moisture beading on the bottle. “I’ll make you a space in the shed to
smoke. A chair and a little table.”
    She handed me the beer. “Deal.”
    I cracked the cap and took a swig. This wasn’t high school–kid beer-drinking. No
downing kegger cups or beer-bong action or getting drunk to be cool while you staggered around saying stupid shit
before puking your guts out. This was relaxing, work-your-ass-off-all-day-and-enjoy-something-cold-with-a-kick
drinking. “Can I ask a question?”
    She nodded.
    “Who’s that girl that lives down the street? In the yellow house.”
    Miss Mae smiled. “Kimberly Johan.”
    I looked at my food. “I fell in love with her yesterday.”
    She slid me a small smile. “Quick about things, aren’t you?”
    I shrugged, my tongue a bit loose with a buzz. “Can’t help it. I’m a lover, not a
fighter. Or a worker.”
    She raised her eyebrows at me, then frowned. “Her daddy ain’t going to like you one
bit.”
    I smiled. “Love conquers all.”
    She dismissed it. “Puppy love.”
    Silence followed, and we ate for a few minutes. “Can I ask another question?”
    “As long as it ain’t foolish like the last one.”
    My dad always used to tell me there weren’t any stupid questions, but I guess in Montana, there
are. I swallowed my