Where There's Smoke by Sandra Brown Read Free Book Online

derivative of Mother years ago.
     
    "Key."   She turned a baleful gaze on Janellen.   I guess this is your doing."
     
    Key placed his arm across his sister's shoulders.   "Don't blame Janellen.   Surprising y'all was my idea."
     
    Jody Tackett harrumphed, her way of letting Key know that she knew he was lying.   "Did I hear you say the coffee was ready?"
     
    "Yes, Mama," Janellen replied eagerly.   "I'll cook you and Key a big breakfast to celebrate his homecoming."
     
    "I'm not so sure his homecoming is cause for celebration."   Having said that, Jody turned and walked away.
     
    Key let out a deep sigh.   He hadn't expected a warm embrace, not even an obligatory hug.   He and his mother had never shared dat kind of affection.   For as far back as he could remember, Jody had been unapproachable and inaccessible to him, and he'd taken his cues from her.
     
    For years they had coexisted under an undeclared truce.   When they were together, he was polite and expected the same courtesy to be extended to him.   Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn't.   This morning she had been flagrantly hostile, even though he was her only living son.
     
    Maybe that was why.
     
    "Be patient with her, Key," Janellen pleaded.   "She doesn't feel well."
     
    "I see what you mean," he remarked thoughtfully.   "When did she start looking so old?"
     
    "It's been over a year, but she still hasn't fully recovered from you know."
     
    "Yeah."   He paused.   "I'll try not to upset her while I'm here."   He looked at his sister and smiled wryly.   "Is there a pair of crutches in the house?"
     
    "Right where you left them after your car wreck."   She went to the closet and retrieved a pair of aluminum crutches from the rear corner.
     
    "While you're at it, get me a shirt, too," he told her.   "Mine didn't make it home last night."
     
    He ignored her inquisitive glance and pointed at the shirts hanging in the closet.   She brought him a plain white cotton one that smelled faintly of mothballs.   He put it on but left it unbuttoned.   Securing the padded braces of the crutches in his armpits, he indicated the door with a motion of his head.   "Let's go."
     
    "You look pale.   Are you feeling up to this?"
     
    "No.   But I sure as hell don't want to hold up Jody's breakfast."
     
    She was already seated at the kitchen table sipping coffee and smoking a cigarette when Key hobbled in.   Janellen went unnoticed as she began preparing the meal.   Key sat across from his mother and propped his crutches against the edge of the table.   He was keenly aware of his bearded face and mussed hair.
     
    As always, Jody was perfectly neat, although she wasn't an attractive woman.   The Texas sun had left her complexion spotted and lined.
     
    Having no tolerance for vanity, her only concession to softening her appearance was a light dusting of dime store face powder.
     
    For all her adult life she had kept a standing weekly appointment at the beauty parlor to have her hair washed and set, but only because she couldn't be bothered to do it herself.   It took twenty minutes for her short, gray hair to dry under the hood dryer.   During that twenty minutes a manicurist clipped and buffed her short, square nails.   She never had them polished.
     
    She wore dresses only for church on Sundays and when a social occasion absolutely demanded it.   This morning she was wearing a plaid cotton shirt and a pair of slacks, both crisply starched and ironed.
     
    As she ground out her cigarette, she addressed Key in a tone as intimidating as her stare.   "What'd you do this time?"
     
    Her words were accusatory, clearly implying that Key was responsible for his misfortune.   He was, but it wouldn't have mattered if he had been a victim of whimsical fate.   Accidents had always been his fault.
     
    When he'd fallen from the branches of the pecan tree that he and Clark had been climbing together, Jody had said that a broken collarbone was