Special Delivery. Judi Lynn
Читать онлайн книгу.
you come to the kitchen to eat, I’ll make it for you.”
“Never mind.”
She was determined not to give in this time. If she caved and took him breakfast every time he refused to get up, he’d never get up. That irritated him, so he turned up the volume on his TV.
Fine. Let him. If she dusted and swept the living room, she’d have a room to relax in. There was so much dust she tied a handkerchief over her nose and mouth. She dug in the broom closet and found an old vacuum cleaner with attachments. She picked the closest corner and started sweeping. She got the cobwebs and walls first. Then she started on the sofa and overstuffed chairs. Two hours later, she still hadn’t gotten to the wooden floors.
When she switched the vacuum off, Axel called, “There’s no TV in there. If you want to watch something, you’ll have to watch what I pick.”
He really was a pain in the ass. She called back, “You’re behind the times, old coot. I brought my laptop and I can watch TV on that. Movies, too. And I brought a stack of books to read. I have plenty to entertain myself.”
She heard him grumble. “Enjoy it while you can. Just wait till the kids hear that you’re snooping in my business. They’ll roar in here, ready to line their pockets.”
“You talk too much.” She went to the refrigerator and grabbed one of the beers she’d bought. She carried it to the parlor and closed the door. While she sipped, she wondered: Would people come like Axel thought they would? If they did, she could get out of this place. Someone else could take care of him, and Axel could stir the pot all he wanted.
Her thoughts settled, she went to finish cleaning the living room.
“Hey, girl! Was that a beer in your hand? A beer would sure taste good right now.”
She started to say Screw you, but changed her mind. If a beer would make him happy, why not? She’d hated the old man for as long as she could remember, but he wasn’t as bad as she’d remembered. Or else she was older and didn’t have to put up with his crap anymore. She wasn’t sure which.
She opened a bottle and took it to him. “Only one. You’re on meds. You’re rotten enough sober. I sure don’t want to see you tipsy.”
He grinned.
“I’m happy I can entertain you.”
“Cool your jets. You’re working yourself into a tizzy.”
She plopped two pieces of cold fried chicken on a paper plate and took it to him. She grabbed two more for herself. She hated to admit it, but Ralph’s chicken was even good cold. Her mom would turn green with envy. She went to the long, wooden worktable in the kitchen to eat it.
Ansel called: “Don’t nurses care if someone eats healthy? I could use some applesauce.”
She took it to him, rolled her eyes, and stomped away. Okay, first impressions weren’t that off. The old man was a damn nuisance. After lunch, she started on the floors. She had to empty the sweeper bag twice before she could finish when it clogged with dirt. She swept the floor a second time, too, just in case, and then damp mopped it. The oak planks needed to be refinished, but they were in good shape. When she was done, the room was spotless, but it looked downright sad. The paint had faded to a colorless hue. The furniture’s cushions were long dead. But there were two oak rocking chairs drawn by the fireplace with floor lamps next to them. She could sit there.
The sun dimmed outside, and she turned on lamps to brighten the room. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was six.
“An old man could die of starvation with you as his nurse,” Axel called.
“I should be so lucky!”
Axel had managed by himself before. He could now, if he had to. But Karli was starving after all the cleaning she’d done.
The kitchen was buried in shadows, so she flipped on the switch for the overhead light. She warmed up the tamale casserole that Keagan’s mother had sent and carried a dish out to Axel. Supper tonight finished it off.
He sat in the dark, too. Maybe a good thing. Then she didn’t have to look at him. He didn’t care as long as his TV was on.
Karli turned on the lamp by his hospital bed and arranged his plate on the TV tray. “Eat up.”
He frowned at her. “Why don’t you ever eat out here with me?”
She handed him two napkins. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the spills on your shirt or the yolk smear in your beard.” She gave him a long look. “Or maybe it’s your crappy disposition. Who wants to spend time with you?”
He squared his shoulders. “I told you I wasn’t dirty. Keagan gets me in the shower every week.”
“Whether you need it or not.” She shook her head. “Lucky him. I won’t fight him for the honor.”
Axel’s gray eyes sparkled. “You’ve got some mouth on you, girl.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
He laughed. “I bet you have. Well, shoo now. Let me eat in peace.”
She turned and went to the dining room to eat her supper. They had plenty of leftovers, but she liked a little variety. She decided to run to the store tomorrow to buy a few things. Beef and vegetable soup sounded good.
After she cleaned up their supper dishes, she went to her room and called her mom. She wasn’t doing this for Axel. She had nothing but bad memories of him. She was doing it for her mom, trying to spare her another unpleasant memory. She’d move heaven and earth for her parents. “No luck today,” she told her. “Axel vetoed everything I thought of. I have a nurse coming to do an assessment in a few days, but he won’t pay for Meals on Wheels or a cleaning service.”
“There’s only so much you can do. He won’t trust anyone, even if you’re trying to help him.”
Karli paused before asking, “He says once your brothers and sisters hear that I’ve come to Mill Pond, they’ll think I’m after their inheritance and come, too.”
“Oh, God.” Her mom groaned. “I sure as hell hope not.”
Her mom hardly ever cussed. Unfortunately, Karli was known for having a potty mouth. “How bad are they?”
“Most of us turned out better than we deserved.” She could almost hear her mom counting on her fingers. “Jackson tried his best to protect the rest of us. He’s the oldest, sixty-three. He worked for the railroad and bought a small ranch in Oklahoma when he retired. He won’t care about Dad’s money.”
“You don’t either, but that leaves ten more.” With that many kids, there had to be a few who were financially struggling.
Her mom said, “Ronnie’s sixty. He works construction, walks on high, steel beams. He never married. I don’t think he’ll care either.”
“Okay, that leaves nine.”
Her mom took a deep breath. “Kurt’s sixty-two and as mean as Dad. Always went from job to job, always broke. If he comes . . .”
“I might leave.”
Her mom chuckled. “I wouldn’t blame you. Sylvie’s next, fifty-four. Meaner than Kurt. She’s been married and divorced three times.”
“No one can live with her.” How did women like that keep attracting men?
“Maureen’s next,” her mom said. “I feel sorry for her. Sylvie bullied her so much, she turned out like Mom—scared of her own shadow. She married a controlling husband and jumps when he says jump.”
Karli played with a strand of her hair, wrapping it around her finger. “I don’t remember meeting her at your mom’s funeral.”
“She didn’t come. She doesn’t do anything without her husband’s permission.” Her mom