Crazy Little Thing Read Free Page B

Vain bastard. He was exactly the kind I wanted to avoid, with his long, stupid legs and his dumb, broad shoulders. He might as well have unfaithful tattooed right on that bulging bicep I couldn’t take my eyes off of. Damn.
    “Who’s that?” I whispered, sounding significantly breathier than intended. Did I mention he was sweaty?
    Fontaine smiled. “I don’t know. I just call him Running Man .”
    Running Man continued on, giving an awkward wave as Dody, Fontaine, and I continued to stare and Jasper picked at the label of his beer.
    “Hey, Fontaine!” Paige scampered up, breaking our collective trance.
    “Hey, sweet stuff! Give me some sugar.” He pulled her close for a kiss on the cheek.
    My daughter adored Fontaine, thanks in no small part to their shared appreciation of all things glittery.
    “It scratches,” she said, reaching up and tapping his goatee. “Why is that on your face?”
    Fontaine laughed. “That’s called style, girlfriend. It’s what sets us apart from the animals. And the rednecks.”

CHAPTER 2

    “COFFEE, SADIE?” DODY EXTENDED HER arm with a full pot tipping dangerously close to pouring even though there was no mug to catch it. This morning she wore a mint-green turban with an abundance of fluffy blonde curls springing forth from the top. She looked like a test tube fizzing over.
    “Definitely.” I pulled a cup from the cupboard, trying to disregard the stained interior, and handed it to her.
    Getting up today had been a challenge. The mattress in my room felt like a bag of oranges, and the sound of the rolling waves hadn’t lulled me to sleep at all. They just made me need to pee. When Jordan climbed into my bed at sunrise, bringing the dogs and their slobber with him, I wondered again if coming to Bell Harbor was a mistake. But Dody had badgered me with the tenacity of a Jehovah’s Witness until I couldn’t think of another reason to say no.
    “How did you sleep?” Dody handed back the cup after sprinkling cinnamon on the top.
    “Great,” I lied, wishing I could inject the coffee straight into my veins. I reached past her to straighten the pot, lining it up with the blender.
    “That’s wonderful, dear. I was thinking after breakfast we could take a walk. There’s a trail that leads right to the playground at the elementary school.”
    My kids were sitting at the kitchen island, their eyes still a little puffy from sleep but hopeful with expectation. I leaned over and kissed their cheeks. Paige kissed me back while Jordan turned his face into his shoulder. He was getting too old for kisses, and my heart stung a little.
    “Please, Mommy? I’d like to see the school.” Paige smiled her most beatific smile.
    “Did you brush your teeth before you came downstairs?” I asked.
    Jordan frowned. “I thought we were on vacation?”
    “Not from dental hygiene. Brush them after you eat, then we’ll go to the playground.”
    They fist bumped each other in victory, happy until Dody set steaming bowls in front of them. “Eat your porridge, dears.”
    Paige frowned at the foreign glop. “What is that?”
    I nudged her in the shoulder. “It’s oatmeal, Paige. Just eat it.”
    “It doesn’t look like our oatmeal. What are all those specks?”
    I peeked down at the sludge. Dody’s cooking hadn’t improved over the years. As kids, my sister and I sometimes made random bets and whoever lost had to eat one of Dody’s peculiar concoctions. Her oatmeal was the worst offender, always gummy and discolored. And sometimes you’d bite into something and couldn’t tell what it was or why it was in there. I’ve long suspected Jasper became a chef purely out of self-defense.
    “What are the specks?” I couldn’t resist asking.
    “Flaxseeds. They help you poop.”
    Jordan’s eyes went big and round. “Pooping is funny. One time I pooped a——”
    “Jordan!” This was not the time for that story. “Just eat.”
    “Yes, eat up, darlings. I have to be back here by noon. Harry