Granny,” Dana said.
“I don’t wanna go!”
“Why not?”
Billy thought he knew. He was pretty sure they had underestimated her, and she really did understand what was said on the radio.
She mustered a sad shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Is it because you miss your Great Granny?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t think so.”
Dana smiled at her. “You know when somebody dies they go to heaven. It’s a really nice place.”
She laughed, which surprised Billy. “No you don’t, you go to Sesame Street.”
“Who taught you that?” Dana asked with a quizzical look.
“My dad.”
Then in a complete mood reversal she began singing, Sunny Day, sweeping the clouds away. On my way to where the air is sweet. Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street.
When she finished, they discovered the real reason she didn’t want to attend. She didn’t want to wear the mandatory cow sweater. But she eventually compromised, after negotiating a return trip to Molly’s the next day for an ice cream with extra sprinkles.
Billy let out a sigh of relief, even though he knew it was only a temporary reprieve.
Chapter 19
Beth met them on the promenade deck of the boat that advertised itself as the only authentic side-wheeler in the northeast. She was predictably skeptical that Carolyn would make it through the day in one piece. When Carolyn ran to her, Beth instinctively felt her head for a fever she didn’t have.
Beth met Dana with a hug and a peck on the cheek. She greeted Billy warmly, but he knew the minute she and Dana talked, he might as well pack his stuff. He would move out before he’d ever re-live the past by defending himself.
Evelyn met them with a glass of champagne in one hand and the urn in the other, her wild orange hair blowing in the wind. She was overly tanned, having moved to Florida with Beverly’s remains. She kept telling Beth that Beverly had left important items for her that she planned to bring with her on her next trip up from Florida. Beth’s look said they couldn’t be that important if Evelyn had waited a year to give them to her.
Despite a steady rain, the ceremony went off without a hitch, with the one exception that the stiff wind blew Beverly’s ashes back onto the boat after they were finally tossed from over the water. But since the inebriated Evelyn kept referring to Billy as Chuck for the entire night, he doubted that she noticed.
As the rest of the week sped by, Billy continued to be surprised that A) he still lived on the Whitcomb’s property, B) he was still Carolyn’s babysitter, and C) Chuck hadn’t returned home to shoot him.
He couldn’t imagine Dana not telling Beth what she heard on the radio. And he expected Beth’s reaction to be swift and unforgiving; to the point that he’d be begging Chuck for a mercy shot.
Billy would spend the mornings working on his writing—coming up with ideas for his second novel, along with the next installment of Peanut Butter & Jelly . Then midday, he and Carolyn would work in the yard. She especially liked riding around with him on the tractor, cutting the lawn. He also got his bike out of the mothballs and they would ride around the cul-de-sac. He used the evenings to write his articles for the Shoreline Times .
Billy continued writing the retrospective article on Beth without her authorization, figuring he had nothing to lose. He used Dana as his source, also without permission. He was sure he’d soon be looking for a new agent, also.
Chuck was to return Friday night. Billy figured that’s when the guillotine would drop on his rental agreement, and perhaps his neck. But regardless, he still had a Friday deadline for the Sunday edition. He finished the article on Molly’s by Wednesday, but had yet to finish the retrospective on the abandoned girl. He wanted it to be the best thing he’d ever written. He sat at his laptop—a Dana Boulanger charitable contribution—finishing the final
“I don’t wanna go!”
“Why not?”
Billy thought he knew. He was pretty sure they had underestimated her, and she really did understand what was said on the radio.
She mustered a sad shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Is it because you miss your Great Granny?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t think so.”
Dana smiled at her. “You know when somebody dies they go to heaven. It’s a really nice place.”
She laughed, which surprised Billy. “No you don’t, you go to Sesame Street.”
“Who taught you that?” Dana asked with a quizzical look.
“My dad.”
Then in a complete mood reversal she began singing, Sunny Day, sweeping the clouds away. On my way to where the air is sweet. Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street.
When she finished, they discovered the real reason she didn’t want to attend. She didn’t want to wear the mandatory cow sweater. But she eventually compromised, after negotiating a return trip to Molly’s the next day for an ice cream with extra sprinkles.
Billy let out a sigh of relief, even though he knew it was only a temporary reprieve.
Chapter 19
Beth met them on the promenade deck of the boat that advertised itself as the only authentic side-wheeler in the northeast. She was predictably skeptical that Carolyn would make it through the day in one piece. When Carolyn ran to her, Beth instinctively felt her head for a fever she didn’t have.
Beth met Dana with a hug and a peck on the cheek. She greeted Billy warmly, but he knew the minute she and Dana talked, he might as well pack his stuff. He would move out before he’d ever re-live the past by defending himself.
Evelyn met them with a glass of champagne in one hand and the urn in the other, her wild orange hair blowing in the wind. She was overly tanned, having moved to Florida with Beverly’s remains. She kept telling Beth that Beverly had left important items for her that she planned to bring with her on her next trip up from Florida. Beth’s look said they couldn’t be that important if Evelyn had waited a year to give them to her.
Despite a steady rain, the ceremony went off without a hitch, with the one exception that the stiff wind blew Beverly’s ashes back onto the boat after they were finally tossed from over the water. But since the inebriated Evelyn kept referring to Billy as Chuck for the entire night, he doubted that she noticed.
As the rest of the week sped by, Billy continued to be surprised that A) he still lived on the Whitcomb’s property, B) he was still Carolyn’s babysitter, and C) Chuck hadn’t returned home to shoot him.
He couldn’t imagine Dana not telling Beth what she heard on the radio. And he expected Beth’s reaction to be swift and unforgiving; to the point that he’d be begging Chuck for a mercy shot.
Billy would spend the mornings working on his writing—coming up with ideas for his second novel, along with the next installment of Peanut Butter & Jelly . Then midday, he and Carolyn would work in the yard. She especially liked riding around with him on the tractor, cutting the lawn. He also got his bike out of the mothballs and they would ride around the cul-de-sac. He used the evenings to write his articles for the Shoreline Times .
Billy continued writing the retrospective article on Beth without her authorization, figuring he had nothing to lose. He used Dana as his source, also without permission. He was sure he’d soon be looking for a new agent, also.
Chuck was to return Friday night. Billy figured that’s when the guillotine would drop on his rental agreement, and perhaps his neck. But regardless, he still had a Friday deadline for the Sunday edition. He finished the article on Molly’s by Wednesday, but had yet to finish the retrospective on the abandoned girl. He wanted it to be the best thing he’d ever written. He sat at his laptop—a Dana Boulanger charitable contribution—finishing the final
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