Distant Blood Read Free

saw Candace gesturing to her from the kitchen. “Just a sec,” she muttered to me, and retreated to the roiling steam to consult with her partner.
    “That girl is just never going to cotton to me.” Bob Don twirled his spoon in the creamy pudding. Disappointment curdled his normally kind features into a frown.
    “Sure she will. If I can get along with Gretchen, you can get along with my sister.” I tapped my finger against the back of his hand. I don't touch Bob Don often (and no, I don't know why) and he brightened with a smile.
    “Well, son, I'm glad to hear you and Gretchen are mending fences.”
    “Yes. It's been much easier since we cleared the minefields away.” I stuck a spoonful of pudding and cookie into my mouth, not really wanting to discuss Bob Don's wife Gretchen. I'd made as much peace as possible with that woman, all for Bob Don's sake. He had the easier reconciliation to make; after all, Sister wasn't a crazily mean bitch. Tidying up my discord with Gretchen required the patience of a saint, which I fortunately have. Usually. Okay, occasionally. At least during leap years.
    Sister returned to the table, toying with her blonde pony-tail and smiling like the grin had been pasted on with fancy glue. She sat down next to Bob Don and squeezed his arm in affection. I tried not to choke on my pudding.
    “I think this reunion idea is just
wonderful,”
Sister purred. “Bob Don, of course you should get Jordan to go. Far be it from me to suggest otherwise. And Jordy, it's justabsolutely necessary that you bond with your Goertz kin-folk. After all, they're your people, too.”
    “Are y'all nipping cooking sherry back there?” I craned my neck for a better view into the kitchen. Candace ducked out of sight, presumably to go flour a chicken for frying. I suspected my butt'd been dusted as well. I narrowed my gaze at Sister, who replied with a cherubic smile. (The last angel to sport that grin was Lucifer immediately before he took the down elevator.)
    “Jordy, your hypersuspicious mind is certainly one of your least attractive assets.” Sister sniffed. She patted Bob Don's arm.
“I
know that I've not always been—entirely kind to you, Bob Don. I'm sorry. I'm gonna work on that.”
    He patted her arm back and gave her his warm smile. “I appreciate that, Arlene. After all, we're all family now.”
    “And it's so important for us to keep that truth foremost in our minds,” Sister concurred. She sounded like a United Nations ambassador working the floor.
    “I believe I've had enough sugar for today,” I said, clunking my spoon in my scraped-clean pudding bowl. I'd hoped for a summit between Sister and Bob Don, but this smacked of backdoor diplomacy.
    “So when do you leave?” Sister asked brightly.
    “Not soon enough for you, apparently,” I teased. “Would you like to go pack my bags for me?”
    “One just can't ignore opportunities like this, Jordy,” Sister said, then coughed with a sidelong glance at Bob Don. “I mean—a chance to meet your long-lost family.”
    “Or a chance to escape from your currently existing relatives,” I parried. Sister has never advocated sudden mood swings. I, of course, relegated her attempt at detente with Bob Don to consideration of my long-wounded feelings.
    More fool I.

THE FIRST LETTER ARRIVED IN EARLY JUNE. IT lay nestled, like a snake in high grass, among the inevitable bills, a long, funny letter from my college roommate now living in Nashville, and a men's-health magazine brimming with advice I gleefully ignore. I thought at first it was just a card of some sort, noting only the Corpus Christi postmark and wondering who the hell did I know down on the coast.
    I sat at the kitchen table, still laughing from my friend's letter, and pulled the card out of the envelope. I dropped it immediately when I saw the blood.
    A dried
X
of crimson gore splattered the front, obscuring a cartoon cat's knowing leer. The envelope fell nervelessly from my hands. My