Read Runny03 - Loose Lips for Free Online

more colorful and we can’t give Junior anything to carp about. She’ll have to make it up—know what I mean?”
    “Well—”
    “Red and white.”
    “Red and white,” Louise agreed.
    Juts watched clouds, a deeper gray, rolling in from the west. “Louise, I’m real proud of you. I couldn’t have talked to Diddy. I can’t even talk to my husband.”
    “Oh, that will pass. What you need is a baby.”
    “It’s not like I haven’t been trying. He won’t go to the doctor. I even told him that I’ve gone and I’m okay.”
    The first raindrop splattering on the windshield forced Louise to slow down. “I hate to drive in the rain.”
    “That makes two of us when you’re behind the wheel. Why don’t you let me drive?”
    “I told you, Pearlie would die or kill me. The only reason I got the car today was that he wants to stay on the good side of Her Highness.”
    “He’s no fool. Hey, Wheezer, pull in at that Esso station, will you? I need a Co-Cola.”
    As Juts pulled two cold bottles out of the big red cooler, Louise watched as the raindrops splashed, mixed in with light sleet.
    “Now I’ll have to wash and wax the car.”
    “Men love their cars more than they love us.”
    “Pearlie says the car is more dependable and doesn’t throw dinner plates at him.”
    Juts popped the cap off the bottle. The metal cap fell down in the slot with a click. She handed the bottle to her sister.
    “I’m taking Celeste’s money to Barnhart’s tomorrow morning. How about if you meet me at the store at nine?”
    “Good by me.”
    They clambered back into the car, the rain and sleet beating down in gray sheets.
    Juts piped up. “Let’s wait until this blows over. Anyway, I want some peanuts.”
    “You can’t eat them in the car. One little shell and my husband will skin me alive.”
    “All right. All right.” Juts slammed the door, dashing for the little office.
    She brought roasted peanuts and two more Cokes to Louise, who got out of the car. Cold, they huddled under the overhang, eating and drinking.
    “Damn, it’s getting nasty,” Juts complained. “Ever notice how spring gets your hopes up and then whammo, you’re back down on the floor? Kinda like my Orioles. I’m going to buy a true baseball cap this year.”
    “You get fat by talking and thin by swinging a bat. That’s what Aimes used to say.”
    Juts brushed off her hands, the salt falling down like tiny sparkles. “Can’t wait for late summer when I get boiled peanuts. Is there anything better than that?”
    “Momma’s fried chicken.”
    “Hmm.” Juts took a hop-step to the car. “Funny what you remember.Aimes did say that, didn’t he? I remember him saying, ‘What you don’t have in your hand, you can’t hold.’”
    They rode back to Runnymede. Juts was unusually silent.
    “Are you worried?”
    “About what?”
    Louise replied, “About going into business. There’s a lot to do.”
    “No.”
    “It’s not like you to be quiet. You’re getting to be like a light-bulb, Julia, you switch on and off these days.”
    “My mind wanders.” She shifted her weight. “I don’t know. I have a funny feeling.”
    “Like someone’s going to die?” Louise imagined disaster in large portions.
    “No.”
    “Have you seen any blackbirds pecking at your window?”
    “For a Catholic you sure do set store by signs.”
    “I do not, but everyone knows a blackbird pecking at your window means someone’s going to die, and soon.”
    “No, I don’t think anyone is going to die. No.”
    “Did you skip your monthly?” Louise’s voice rose hopefully.
    “Nah. And will you stop pushing me.”
    “I’m not pushing you.” Louise inhaled and her voice lowered into the important-information register. “But I know that no woman is truly complete and happy until she has children.”
    “Mary and Maizie make you jump for joy.”
    Louise pooh-poohed that sarcastic comment. “Growing pains. They’ll grow up. We did.”
    “I wonder. Sometimes I