“You have always been the smart one in the family,” Bernie said and ended the call.
“Was that Mama?” Clara asked. “I’ve been expecting her to call me all day.”
“Nope, it was not your mother or your grandmother,” Bernie answered truthfully. “Are you disappointed that you haven’t heard from her?”
Clara shook her head. “Not really. If she does call, it will be to yell at me or make me promise to go to that religious rehab place where I will repent for all my past sins and get my wings and halo at the graduation in three months.” She stopped long enough to take a breath. “Right now, I’m grateful to be here, but like I told you earlier, I keep feeling like the other shoe is goingto drop any minute.”
Bernie had not talked to Clara’s mama, but the fact that shehadtalked to Vernie Sue was about to put her in a leaky canoe and send her down crap creek on a guilt trip. If she expected to get any sleep that night, she had to ’fess up and tell Clara the truth. “Your grandmother called me when we were shopping. They know you are here, and they are not happy,” she blurted out and felt better. “I wasn’t going to tell you because you’ve already had enough of their threats and demands, but there it is.”
“I’m glad to know. Now I don’t have to talk to them,” Clara said.
“Right then, I was talking to your aunt Mary Jane. We’re going down there for lunch on Wednesday,” Bernie said.
Clara covered a yawn with her hand. “I really do feel like I’ve won the lottery.”
“Just remember that folks say the lottery is cursed, and winning it is not a good thing. Enough about the lifestyles of the self-righteous in Fritch, Texas. Let’s order a couple of pizzas to be delivered, open two beers, and watch some television until bedtime.”
“You don’t have to twist my arm one bit,” Clara agreed. “But I might fall asleep long before dark.”
“I’ll wake you if you snore,” Bernie said.
Chapter 4
Thunder that rivaled the noise of a heavy metal band awoke Bernie on Monday morning. Lightning zigzagged through the sky so close to her bedroom window that she was sure it almost parted her red hair. She threw a pillow over her head and shook her fist at the ceiling. Without a doubt, her pious sister had called down rain from heaven to ruin the fireworks shows in southern Oklahoma and northern Texas to punish her for taking Clara in. In between bouts of rain slamming against the window, she could hear Pepper whining not far from her ear.
“For once the weatherman could have been wrong,” she muttered as she threw back the covers. “Dog, you really donotwant to go outside, but if you do, know that I’m not going with you. If you want to brave this storm to add more water to a bush, then you are on your own.”
She padded down the hall in her bare feet with Pepper right behind her. The electricity blinked off when she reached the kitchen, leaving the apartment in near-total darkness, but she didn’t need light to find her wayoutside. She had lived in the place long enough that she could get around with her eyes closed, even after drinking one too many double shots of whiskey. She reached for the doorknob and stepped on a slug at the same time. The slimy little booger squished up between all the toes on her left foot, and she let out enough cuss words to blister the pale-yellow paint right off the walls. She tried to shake the gooey mess off, but evidently it had a healthy dose of superglue DNA in its system.
“Aunt Bernie, are you all right?” Clara’s high-pitched voice cut through the next blast of thunder.
“I’m fine, but there’s a dead slug between my toes.” She walked on the heel of her foot to the back door and opened it.
Pepper ran out like his little tail was on fire, and another flash of lightning lit him up when he hiked his leg on one of the patio chairs. Bernie didn’t even have time to grab a paper towel to wipe the slug away before he scratched on the back door to be let back inside. She stood on one leg like a flamingo, or maybe it was an ostrich, and got off-balance when she tried to open the door. When she took a step, a second slug went to meet its maker. She backed up and plopped down in a chair and let out another string of swearing that could have easily peeled the drywall right off the studs.
“Sit still, and I’ll bring paper towels and a warm washcloth,” Clara said as she came into the room with a flashlight.
“I hate anything that crawls,” Bernie declared, “and these miserable things are at the top of my list. They can’t possibly serve a purpose in life, except to test what little Jesus I have inside my soul. Check the floor before you come in here. Where’s there’s one, there’s usually half a dozen leaving a trail of shiny slime all over the floor.”
Pepper ran over, sniffed Bernie’s foot, and growled deep in his throat. Then he shook from his eyeballs to the tip of his tail, leaving water that smelled like wet dog on her feet.
“Why didn’t you chase them off before they wound up between my toes?” Bernie snapped. “You are a lazy mutt, but then Hershal didn’t ask for your résumé or your pedigree when he stole you, did he?”
“Here you go.” Clara handed her a roll of paper towels, then shined her flashlight around the floor. “Looks like those were the only two.”
Bernie jerked off several sheets and swiped at her feet, shivering the whole time. “If these things smelled as bad as they feel, they could run a skunk some serious competition. Lord, I hate this. It feels like glue mixed with snot on my skin.”
Clara shivered. “That is gross!”
“That doesn’t begin to describe it.” Bernie scrubbed at her feet with a warm, soapy washcloth. “This is definitely not starting out to be my favorite Independence Day.”
“No matter what happens, it will always be the bestone in my eyes,” Clara said. “Even with the thunder, the rain, and the slugs, it beats where I was last year.”
“Then next time you can deal with the slugs, and we’ll see if that changes your mind.”
***
The rain stopped and the sun came out at noon, but by four o’clock dark clouds had rolled in from the southwest. Nash arrived a little early and came inside the bar with water droplets clinging to his silver hair.
