how to do it?”
Humphrey yowled.
“Want to go for a walk?”
Humphrey didn’t budge. “Humphrey, old man,” Henry said, “I know it’s early and you’d rather sleep, but I think the early morning air might do me some good.”
The dog still did not move.
“Okay, you win.” Henry stared at the screen and read the words out loud. “ ‘Cash never could shoot straight. He’d rather sling words than bullets.’ “ Henry hung his head. “Oh, for crying out loud, it’s awful.”
Humphrey hid his face under his ears.
“I know. I know. But what can I do? I have to at least turn in the manuscript. But I wanted it to be good, and this” — he pushed the keyboard away —“is garbage.”
Prudence walked into Henry’s study, carrying a cup of coffee and yawning. “Henry Beamer. If you toss one more keyboard on the floor and break it I’ll —”
“Pru, I’m sorry. I’m just so frustrated. I lost Cash’s motivation for returning to Turtle Creek. There’s nothing for him. He lost everything. Why should he go back?”
“Give him a reason. It’s fiction, honey, make it up. You have the power.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “ ‘He’d rather sling words …'? Henry, did you really write that?”
Henry tried to shield the screen. “I know. It’s awful.”
“Everybody has a reason to go home. You need to figure that out for Cash. There has to be something for him in Turtle Creek.”
Henry shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing works.”
“You’ll get it.” Prudence patted his shoulder. “Any word from your mother yesterday?”
“No, not at all. Maybe I’ll call her.”
“Later. Spend some more time with Cash. Ask him. He’ll tell you.”
After breakfast Harriet found the concierge at his desk. He was an older gentleman, older than Harriet — and that made her smile. So far she had been meeting mostly young people, but it was a pleasure to meet someone from her generation.
“Can I help you?” the concierge said.
“I certainly hope so. I am in terrible need of a pair of sneakers. Can you point me in the direction of a shoe store? I could check my Droid, but it’s hard to tell a store from just its name.”
“Oh, I know what you mean. Those newfangled contraptions are a good thing I suppose, but sometimes a person just needs a personal recommendation.”
“You are so right, even though so far Amelia hasn’t steered me wrong.”
“Is she your daughter?”
Harriet smiled and felt her eyes crinkle at the corners. “No, no, she’s my GPS. I named her that.”
“Oh, oh, of course. Well, let me tell you now there’s a store at Loehmann’s Plaza. About a five-minute drive. It’s called the Pic’n Pay — good selection, good prices.”
“Oh, I don’t have a car. Can I take a bus there?”
“Certainly, just grab the local right out in front of the hotel and tell the driver you want to go to the Pic’n Pay. He’ll get you there.”
“Pic’n Pay. Sounds good.”
Before going outside Harriet opened her suitcase and found the rain poncho she had packed just in case. She slipped the bright yellow poncho over her head and secured the hood with a snap. She waited outside under the cover of the hotel portico. The poncho only covered her down to her knees but that was good enough. The rain still fell hard, but she kind of liked it, even though she thought she must look like a big yellow duck waddling down the street. She liked the sound, the smell, the rush of people on their way to heaven knows where. She thought about buying an umbrella, but it would just be one more thing to pack or carry, and she had all she could handle. And she only had to wait a few minutes before the bus pulled up. Harriet stepped on and bounced her suitcase up the steps. “Could you let me off at the Loehmann’s Plaza stop,” she said.
“Third stop,” the driver said. “Third stop.”
Harriet plopped down next to a very wet man wearing a pale blue jacket.
Humphrey yowled.
“Want to go for a walk?”
Humphrey didn’t budge. “Humphrey, old man,” Henry said, “I know it’s early and you’d rather sleep, but I think the early morning air might do me some good.”
The dog still did not move.
“Okay, you win.” Henry stared at the screen and read the words out loud. “ ‘Cash never could shoot straight. He’d rather sling words than bullets.’ “ Henry hung his head. “Oh, for crying out loud, it’s awful.”
Humphrey hid his face under his ears.
“I know. I know. But what can I do? I have to at least turn in the manuscript. But I wanted it to be good, and this” — he pushed the keyboard away —“is garbage.”
Prudence walked into Henry’s study, carrying a cup of coffee and yawning. “Henry Beamer. If you toss one more keyboard on the floor and break it I’ll —”
“Pru, I’m sorry. I’m just so frustrated. I lost Cash’s motivation for returning to Turtle Creek. There’s nothing for him. He lost everything. Why should he go back?”
“Give him a reason. It’s fiction, honey, make it up. You have the power.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “ ‘He’d rather sling words …'? Henry, did you really write that?”
Henry tried to shield the screen. “I know. It’s awful.”
“Everybody has a reason to go home. You need to figure that out for Cash. There has to be something for him in Turtle Creek.”
Henry shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing works.”
“You’ll get it.” Prudence patted his shoulder. “Any word from your mother yesterday?”
“No, not at all. Maybe I’ll call her.”
“Later. Spend some more time with Cash. Ask him. He’ll tell you.”
After breakfast Harriet found the concierge at his desk. He was an older gentleman, older than Harriet — and that made her smile. So far she had been meeting mostly young people, but it was a pleasure to meet someone from her generation.
“Can I help you?” the concierge said.
“I certainly hope so. I am in terrible need of a pair of sneakers. Can you point me in the direction of a shoe store? I could check my Droid, but it’s hard to tell a store from just its name.”
“Oh, I know what you mean. Those newfangled contraptions are a good thing I suppose, but sometimes a person just needs a personal recommendation.”
“You are so right, even though so far Amelia hasn’t steered me wrong.”
“Is she your daughter?”
Harriet smiled and felt her eyes crinkle at the corners. “No, no, she’s my GPS. I named her that.”
“Oh, oh, of course. Well, let me tell you now there’s a store at Loehmann’s Plaza. About a five-minute drive. It’s called the Pic’n Pay — good selection, good prices.”
“Oh, I don’t have a car. Can I take a bus there?”
“Certainly, just grab the local right out in front of the hotel and tell the driver you want to go to the Pic’n Pay. He’ll get you there.”
“Pic’n Pay. Sounds good.”
Before going outside Harriet opened her suitcase and found the rain poncho she had packed just in case. She slipped the bright yellow poncho over her head and secured the hood with a snap. She waited outside under the cover of the hotel portico. The poncho only covered her down to her knees but that was good enough. The rain still fell hard, but she kind of liked it, even though she thought she must look like a big yellow duck waddling down the street. She liked the sound, the smell, the rush of people on their way to heaven knows where. She thought about buying an umbrella, but it would just be one more thing to pack or carry, and she had all she could handle. And she only had to wait a few minutes before the bus pulled up. Harriet stepped on and bounced her suitcase up the steps. “Could you let me off at the Loehmann’s Plaza stop,” she said.
“Third stop,” the driver said. “Third stop.”
Harriet plopped down next to a very wet man wearing a pale blue jacket.
Similar Books
