The Still of Night by Kristen Heitzmann Read Free Book Online

“Yeah?”
    “Did you get a flight to Iowa?”
    Morgan frowned. “It’s lined up if I decide to go.” And he just might want some distance after all.
    Rick nodded. “Good.”
    After biking with Dan out to Finnegan’s Pond, twenty-four miles roundtrip from town and back, Jill had spent a quiet afternoon on the patio with Rascal and two professional journals on developing receptive language in autistic children and the use of broad-spectrum anti-depressants for various emotional disorders.
    Hearing a tap on the glass, Jill pulled open her patio door to admit her friend Shelly, who was waiting with a globe-shaped lollipop. “Tell me what you think of this one.” She slipped off the plastic and held it out.
    Jill took the lollipop. Not too many people got to be the unofficial assistant to the taste tester for Cartier Confections. Choosing the new test-market flavors was only part of Shelly’s job, but she took it seriously and always included Jill for her discerning palate.
    Jill eyed the current prospect. “For starters, you’ve got to blend the colors. This white-and-ecru swirl looks like something someone spit in the parking lot.”
    “Major concern.” Shelly checked it off on her PDA. “No phlegm on a stick.”
    “What’s the flavor?”
    “Taste it.”
    Jill sniffed it. “I’m not much for coconut.”
    “This is a taste test, not a sniff test.”
    Jill licked the lollipop, surprised by the sweet, pleasant flavor. “Tastes more like pie.”
    “Maui coconut cream.”
    Jill slid the pop into her mouth and spun the stick, coating her tongue for a full dose of flavor. It wasn’t bad, less cloyingly sweet than some Shelly had had her try. She’d never make it to the stick, though. In her opinion, they ought to cut the size by half. But they wouldn’t market as well. You need size for an eye-catching display, Shelly had told her. “Good flavor. You ought to do one with kiwi. Kiwi-pineapple. You could suck the coconut left-handed and the kiwi-pineapple right.”
    “Spoken by the girl who has yet to finish one, not two, lollipops at once.”
    Jill shrugged. “After the tenth suck, the sweet taste buds are saturated.”
    “Thankfully the majority of our market does not agree.” Shelly worked her way into the sitting room.
    “So does Maui coconut cream represent a merger, an acquisition, or a new contest winner?”
    “None of the above. We’re just playing with some summertime variety tastes.”
    “Definitely try the kiwi-pineapple. Makes people feel like they’re on vacation with one lick.”
    “Hmm.” Shelly settled into the giraffe chair and picked up the reunion postcard. “What’s this?” She curled up her short freckled legs and switched on the lamp.
    “Class reunion.”
    “Fifteen-year?”
    “It’s a fund-raiser.” Jill set the sucker on the counter and joined Shelly in the front room.
    “Are you going?”
    “I haven’t decided.” She glanced at the packet of forms on her desk, the sheet on which to fill in all her vital statistics, and the one to send in with the exorbitant fee. “The school needs work and a quick infusion of cash, so the alumni thought a mid-decade reunion-slash-fund-raiser would help. Get everyone together and appeal to their nostalgia.”
    Shelly popped her gum. “And are you going?”
    “I’m not nostalgic. I didn’t even go to the tenth.”
    Shelly reached into the bowl of raw cashews on the corner table. “This is a good cause. You should know the schools need help, and reunions are important. They remind you of your roots, show you how far you’ve come. Besides, it would take your mind off things.”
    “Off Dan, you mean.”
    Shelly raised her hands to fend off the argument. “Dan assures me you worked things out. He’s happy; you’re happy; I’m happy.”
    “How’s Brett?”
    Shelly tossed a cashew at her. “Brett’s happy.”
    “Well, good. Then I don’t need the reunion.”
    “Why not go for the fun of it? I went to my tenth and had a