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.The skin of her upper arms still tingled where Sean had touched it.She massaged the limp flesh.A wave of grief hit like a punch in the gut.How ironic was it that he’d been holding his own murder weapon? Tears came, but she brushed them angrily away.No time for regrets.Claire lowered herself on the edge of the bed and removed her socks, wondering why the wet things hadn’t bothered her; usually a tiny splash on her blouse during dishwashing was enough to send her scurrying upstairs to change.Finally she was ready.The bedside clock said there were still twelve minutes before Mamie was due.Maybe time for just another short glance at the book.Claire’s heart thumped with excitement, but by the time she’d struggled downstairs most of the time had evaporated.Three minutes left.Not enough time.Mamie was never late.****It was eight p.m.before Claire returned home.Mamie had insisted they watch television.After the movie, Claire urged Mamie to drive her home, but she’d risen and prepared leftover meatloaf for dinner.“You always say it’s so much better the second time around.”Even though she’d barely touched her lunch, Claire wasn’t hungry.But Mamie wouldn’t listen to protests.When dishes were done, Mamie tried to enlist Claire’s interest in a video, but she’d finally put her foot down.“I’m tired.I want to go home.”Mamie had looked at Claire’s top button.“I’ve been doing my best to keep you here.I know the mood you’re in.You’re going to go home and brood, though God knows what you’ve got to brood about.”“I’m not going to brood.I’m going to bed, to sleep.”Finally they stood on the sidewalk outside her house, Mamie talking about the dismal weather, Claire trying to figure out how to dissuade Mamie from escorting her inside and tucking her in bed.“A bit like being in a cave, isn’t it?” Mamie was looking up at the branches of the maples, heavy with rain.“Hmm? Oh yes.As though none of the outside world can get in and ruin things.”“Ruin things?”“Nothing.Never mind.” Claire had turned away from the frown on Mamie’s round face and hobbled up the steps.Taped to the front door was a piece of paper.Stopped by to see if you were ok.Hope this means you decided to go to the hospital.You should’ve called.Will stop again in morning.Vaughn.What a sweetheart.Claire left her boots in the tray beside the door, hung her coat on the hall rack, tossed a rueful glance at Sean’s long-dried footprints and limped to the kitchen.The cabinet doors looked undisturbed.The tiny smudge of flour she’d left on the handle was still there.Claire wiped it off with the tip of her thumb.She poured a double shot of peach schnapps, gathered up the book and hobbled upstairs.No more delays.Finally in nightclothes and under the fluffy down comforter, she clutched the book to her chest.She’d actually bought three books: one on poisonous plants and two on gardening and landscaping.The one on poisonous plants was destined for the trash.No need for it again.After all, how often does a person go around poisoning someone? It wasn’t like she planned on becoming a serial killer.She was merely protecting her town.In the light from the pink-shaded bedside lamp, Claire smoothed her palm over the glossy cover with its mass of bright green leaves splashed across it like a jungle.Poisonous Plants and You.A twinge of excitement, almost carnal in nature—that is, if she remembered correctly—coursed through her.And another when the spine crackled as she opened the cover.Claire savored the aroma of the fresh-off-the-press pages.It was well after midnight before she shut off the light.Her eyes were on fire and refused to read another word.But sleep was as elusive as was the way to carry out the plan.Her ankle throbbed.At 3 a.m.she began to think something might be more seriously wrong than a simple sprained talus, but she channeled thoughts of pain into thoughts of Sean and his demise.She hadn’t felt this hopeful, or this depressed, in a very long time.Claire woke to sun streaming in the windows.She loved the east facing room for that reason.She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back to work out the stiffness.As she flexed her legs the memory of yesterday’s tumble thundered back.Pain rocketed up her leg.She grimaced and laid back on the pillows, realizing today would be the first time in seventeen years she’d call in sick to the library.She’d been very proud of that record, but while tossing and turning last night, Claire had also done some thinking about life.A wasted life, really.Who the heck would care if she never missed a day of work? Would they put it on her tombstone? Big deal [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.The skin of her upper arms still tingled where Sean had touched it.She massaged the limp flesh.A wave of grief hit like a punch in the gut.How ironic was it that he’d been holding his own murder weapon? Tears came, but she brushed them angrily away.No time for regrets.Claire lowered herself on the edge of the bed and removed her socks, wondering why the wet things hadn’t bothered her; usually a tiny splash on her blouse during dishwashing was enough to send her scurrying upstairs to change.Finally she was ready.The bedside clock said there were still twelve minutes before Mamie was due.Maybe time for just another short glance at the book.Claire’s heart thumped with excitement, but by the time she’d struggled downstairs most of the time had evaporated.Three minutes left.Not enough time.Mamie was never late.****It was eight p.m.before Claire returned home.Mamie had insisted they watch television.After the movie, Claire urged Mamie to drive her home, but she’d risen and prepared leftover meatloaf for dinner.“You always say it’s so much better the second time around.”Even though she’d barely touched her lunch, Claire wasn’t hungry.But Mamie wouldn’t listen to protests.When dishes were done, Mamie tried to enlist Claire’s interest in a video, but she’d finally put her foot down.“I’m tired.I want to go home.”Mamie had looked at Claire’s top button.“I’ve been doing my best to keep you here.I know the mood you’re in.You’re going to go home and brood, though God knows what you’ve got to brood about.”“I’m not going to brood.I’m going to bed, to sleep.”Finally they stood on the sidewalk outside her house, Mamie talking about the dismal weather, Claire trying to figure out how to dissuade Mamie from escorting her inside and tucking her in bed.“A bit like being in a cave, isn’t it?” Mamie was looking up at the branches of the maples, heavy with rain.“Hmm? Oh yes.As though none of the outside world can get in and ruin things.”“Ruin things?”“Nothing.Never mind.” Claire had turned away from the frown on Mamie’s round face and hobbled up the steps.Taped to the front door was a piece of paper.Stopped by to see if you were ok.Hope this means you decided to go to the hospital.You should’ve called.Will stop again in morning.Vaughn.What a sweetheart.Claire left her boots in the tray beside the door, hung her coat on the hall rack, tossed a rueful glance at Sean’s long-dried footprints and limped to the kitchen.The cabinet doors looked undisturbed.The tiny smudge of flour she’d left on the handle was still there.Claire wiped it off with the tip of her thumb.She poured a double shot of peach schnapps, gathered up the book and hobbled upstairs.No more delays.Finally in nightclothes and under the fluffy down comforter, she clutched the book to her chest.She’d actually bought three books: one on poisonous plants and two on gardening and landscaping.The one on poisonous plants was destined for the trash.No need for it again.After all, how often does a person go around poisoning someone? It wasn’t like she planned on becoming a serial killer.She was merely protecting her town.In the light from the pink-shaded bedside lamp, Claire smoothed her palm over the glossy cover with its mass of bright green leaves splashed across it like a jungle.Poisonous Plants and You.A twinge of excitement, almost carnal in nature—that is, if she remembered correctly—coursed through her.And another when the spine crackled as she opened the cover.Claire savored the aroma of the fresh-off-the-press pages.It was well after midnight before she shut off the light.Her eyes were on fire and refused to read another word.But sleep was as elusive as was the way to carry out the plan.Her ankle throbbed.At 3 a.m.she began to think something might be more seriously wrong than a simple sprained talus, but she channeled thoughts of pain into thoughts of Sean and his demise.She hadn’t felt this hopeful, or this depressed, in a very long time.Claire woke to sun streaming in the windows.She loved the east facing room for that reason.She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back to work out the stiffness.As she flexed her legs the memory of yesterday’s tumble thundered back.Pain rocketed up her leg.She grimaced and laid back on the pillows, realizing today would be the first time in seventeen years she’d call in sick to the library.She’d been very proud of that record, but while tossing and turning last night, Claire had also done some thinking about life.A wasted life, really.Who the heck would care if she never missed a day of work? Would they put it on her tombstone? Big deal [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]