Read Online Favorite Wife by Susan Ray Schmidt - Free Book Online Page B

I slid down in a huddle at the side of the adobe wall. The grass was sparse and no cushion at all for my bottom. I shifted uncomfortably, wishing Jay and Carmela would hurry and do whatever they were going to do.
    I thought about Alma and wondered how he could be so mean. I’d never liked Alma much. He made his kids eat cracked wheat cereal with goat’s milk and molasses for breakfast and wouldn’t let them eat chocolate cake or fudge, or anything with refined sugar or flour. He wouldn’t let his daughter Rosa wear pants, and she had to keep her hair braided. It was strange how different the people in the same family could be. I felt confident that Verlan would never try to run his children’s lives. He wasn’t forceful and manipulating like Alma. He couldn’t possibly be.
    It was a good thing that Jay and Carmela were eloping. I didn’t know just what my brother had in mind yet, and I wished he would come out and let me know. I was beginning to feel nervous. They were taking too long talking. They needed to decide what they were doing and get on with it.
    As the worries plagued my mind, car lights began to make their way down the main road that ran half a block away from me. I held my breath, for fear they would turn down our street. But they went on down the bumpy road toward the western mountains. I relaxed for a moment, then started to worry again. What would I do if Alma came looking for Carmela? Oh, God forbid.
    I was beginning to shiver and my legs were cramped. I stood up and began to walk around to warm up. This was ridiculous. Maybe I should go knock on Jay’s door and make them hurry.
    The sound of a distant engine coming nearer made me dash in panic to the corner of the house. Bright headlights swept down our road and a white pickup turned sharply into Jay’s gravel driveway. Alma climbed out and slammed the door shut. In his right hand he held a shotgun. I stood outlined in the bold glare of the headlights, squinting as I stared at him. He walked toward me, his face hard and pale under the lights of the pickup.
    â€œOkay, young lady, where is she?”
    His voice sounded absurdly friendly and conversational, and I eyed the shotgun in his hands, its double barrels glistening in the yellow light. I had to answer him, lie like crazy, say Carmela wasn’t here, but my tongue and brain were frozen. Tearing my eyes away from the gun, I glanced hastily over my shoulder, praying they had heard him and ran out the back door to safety.
    Alma pushed me aside and started around the side of the house. Suddenly I found my voice. “Jay!” I screamed through the stillness. “Alma has a shotgun!”
    My heart pounded with every step as I ran after him. “Jay! Look out! Alma has a gun!” I screamed again. I wasn’t afraid anymore, and grabbing his arm as he reached for the screen door, I yanked hard. “You leave them alone, you hear me?” I shouted. “Just what do you plan to do? Shoot them? What a mean old bully you are!”
    He shook my grip free and shoved me back. I stumbled and fell onto the grass. “You stay out of this!” he roared. “Someone ought to teach you some respect for your elders.”
    The door to the house swung open. Jay and Carmela filed out and stood gaping at us. Alma eyed them in cold fury; the shotgun held loosely in his hand. Across the street, Mother’s bedroom door banged. She hurried toward us, her slippers flapping.
    â€œWhat in the world is going on here?” she snapped, pulling her robe tighter around her. The shotgun in Alma’s hand brought her up short. A look of incredulity crossed her features.
    â€œAlma LeBaron, just what do you think you’re doing!” she gasped.
    â€œMathel, I warned Jay to stay away from my daughter weeks ago,” Alma said stiffly. “I meant what I said. I don’t want there to be any trouble, and there won’t be if he will abide by my