The Underground Lady by JC Simmons Read Free Book Online Page A

longer. It was a pleasure. Take care of the hip."
    "Yeah. We are both getting old, Jay. You and I. There are not many who share our memories and silences. And of them, few are the men they used to be."
    Sunny set her teacup on the silver salver, bent down and hugged John's neck. "Thank you for the kind words about my mother."
    "Yes, she was a lot like that one." He pointed at me. "They both had what Hemingway wrote about – 'grace under pressure.' I've seen this one come into Meridian with an engine shut down; no muss, no fuss. I've worked him around summer squall lines when other carrier pilots turned and ran for cover, and heavy icing and low ceilings, always calm, never rattled. In an emergency, emotion is not an antidote for trust and experience. I'd rather fly on an airliner with the seasoned old veteran captain who I detested at the controls than my friend and drinking buddy with less experience aloft, and a tendency to panic. I may not enjoy the trip, but my chances of arriving safely at our destination would be greatly improved."
    "You think my mother had that Hemingway thing?"
    "She did."
    "Goodbye, Mr. Roberts."
     
    ***
     
     
    We drove up Highway 19 toward Union and the cottage, a different route than we had previously taken. Sunny didn't seem to notice. She appeared deep in thought. I reached my right hand over and traced a question mark on the center console.
    Sunny watched the movement. "Why would Annie Sanders be so secretive about some man involved with my mother?"
    "I will figure out a way to broach the subject with her."
    She slid over to the door, turned sideways and looked at me. Out the side window behind her, cattle grazed in open fields and young pine trees on the nearby highway right of way raced past. "So you have this 'grace under pressure' thing?"
    "I don't think anyone truly knows what they will do under circumstances where life is threatened and the outcome is in doubt. We all hope that we'd do the right thing."
    Her green eyes were expressionless and looked into a void only she could contemplate.
    We pulled into the drive of Rose English's farmhouse. Sunny reached for the door. "I'm going to stay for another week and work with you to find out what happened to my mother."
    "No. From here on out, I do this alone. If you want me to continue, fine. If not, I'll tear up the check for the retainer, and we'll call it off. That's the way it has to be."
    Anger ran through her like an electric current. She turned the anger against herself, taking her ponytail and pulling at it as if she wanted to tear it from her head. She pulled it so tight I knew it had to hurt. "Fine, then you continue on alone." She got out and slammed the door.
    I watched her disappear into Rose's house, leaving me to contemplate people's lives. It seemed to me that the older I get, the less I really understand about the intricacies and frailty of the human psyche. I drove to the cottage and a big Siamese cat named, B.W., who couldn't care less about what I thought.

 
    Chapter Five
     
     
    The phone woke me from a deep and dreamless sleep. Sunlight slanted weakly into the room, cold, and hazy, casting an oblong patch of light between the bed and the window.
    Rose English's voice resounded through the receiver. "How do you look at life, Leicester?" She never called me by my last name unless she was mad.
    "With the innocence of a fresh laid egg."
    "Have you ever been told that you possess a rare ability for complicating your life? An astounding ability."
    "I haven't even had coffee."
    "Then get your butt out of bed and come to my house. I'll make you some coffee. We have to talk."
    "Sunny Pfeiffer?"
    She hung up the phone. Lying back on the pillow, I thought that this was going to be a fun morning.
    B.W. jumped upon the bed, then eased up on my chest and stuck his head close to my mouth. "Well, old boy, you want to go pay another visit to Rose? Looks like we have incurred her wrath. Women. Love'em."
    After a quick shower, I called