Secondhand Stiff Read Free Page A

honey?”
    â€œWhy not?” Greg answered with his own smile, although I trusted his to be more genuine than mine. “Glad to have you aboard, Grace.”
    â€œWonderful,” said Mom, clasping her hands together with joy. “It will be fun, and I can’t wait to see one of those auctions in person.”
    â€œCan I come, too?” We all turned toward the end of the table. The question had come from Renee, who’d been quiet since placing the green bean casserole on the table and sitting down. “I’d like to see one of those,” she added with enthusiasm. “We can make it a fun girls’ day out.”
    It was the first time all day my mother-in-law had appeared chipper, though I did not share her optimism at spending a day with her and Mom together. It’s not that they didn’t get along. They’d met the day Mom and Clark arrived, and, while they were cordial enough with each other, it was clear Renee had immediately tagged Grace Littlejohn as a blight on motherhood—something that was sacred to Greg’s mother. As for my mother, I think she would have liked Renee better if she were the sort of meddling, overbearing mother-in-law I might bitch about. As it was, I got along famously with Renee, and Mom had picked up on that immediately. In Renee’s presence, Mom tended to bristle like a displaced hedgehog. She might have abandoned me over thirty years ago, but now she was claiming ownership rights.
    I picked up my wine glass and drained it, wishing I could follow-up with a face-first plunge into Renee’s amazing pecan pie. If I was lucky, it would rain on Monday and I’d be slammed next week at work. I was only working part-time these days and knew the office would be fairly quiet through the end of the year. Getting extra time off would not be a problem, even though Steele would give me grief just for show.
    I looked at Mom. She seemed thrilled. I glanced at Renee. She also looked pleased and excited. Ina was oblivious, but the men all appeared amused by the turn of events and entertained by my obvious attempts to wiggle out of them.
    Bottom line: Mom was staying with us an extra week. I’d just have to pull on my big-girl panties and deal with it.

two
    While Ina and the bleached blond continued to hiss and throw colorful insults at each other, a crowd gathered, circling them as if watching a cockfight. Slung over one of Ina’s shoulders was a backpack. I half expected her to slough it off and turn it into a weapon.
    â€œDo something, Odelia,” Renee whispered, still standing behind me. I moved over a few inches, putting myself squarely in front of both mothers, using my bulk as a shield should the conflict expand.
    I eyed the people watching the spectacle. There were about a dozen, with the group swelling quickly as more cars, vans, and trucks parked and people spilled out into the November sunshine. The crowd was diverse in ethnicity, with both men and women favoring jeans or cargo pants worn with tee shirts or work shirts. Some wore muscle shirts and shorts. A few middle-aged women in nubby polyester and loud prints were sprinkled in the crowd like wildflowers. The group also contained a few couples—possibly husbands and wives running a family business like Ina and Tom. Ages covered every decade from twenty-something to Medicare-eligible. Almost everyone wore sunglasses, except for one short, squat black woman who wore a visor sporting an Indian casino logo. Ina and the blond were the only two young women present.
    â€œWhat do you expect me to do?” I whispered back to Renee. “Turn a fire hose on them?”
    For the first time, I noticed our own appearances. Renee was dressed in an aqua twin sweater set and pressed khakis, her golden hair meticulously coiffed. My mother wore a prim blue belted shirt dress with a sweater draped over her shoulders. I did have on jeans, but they were loose “mom” jeans paired