Read The Glass Is Always Greener for Free Online

C.J.’s long, gangly arms. “What the heck is going on? Who called you?”
    “Why nobody, dear,” Mama said. “You know how I have this ability to smell trouble? Well, I began to get a whiff of it last night when I was watching TV, so I called C.J. and Wynnell and told them to be on standby, and then this morning when I was frying bacon I couldn’t even smell it on account of the scent of trouble was so strong.”
    “Perhaps you were smelling something rotten in Denmark,” I said with just a hint of sarcasm.
    “Shame on you, Abby,” Wynnell said. “If my mama was alive, I’d never talk to her like that. Oh Lordy, how I miss that woman.”
    “Wynnell, your mama used to whip you with a braid made from rawhide strips just because you left water spots in the sink.”
    “Well, I still miss her, Abby—just not in a good way.”
    “At least y’all had mamas,” C.J. said. “I was raised by Granny Ledbetter who learned her mothering from her mama who learned hers from a she-wolf.”
    “Oy vey,” I said. “I feel a Shelby story coming on.”
    “But Abby,” C.J. insisted, “this one is true. You see, there was this band of Gypsies traveling through Shelby—this was back around 1900. Anyways, they accidentally left a little baby behind at their campgrounds and it was adopted by this alpha she-wolf and her pack. A couple of years later this Italian family built a house out in the forest, near the wolf’s den, and discovered Great-granny running wild through the trees. They caught her, raised her up like one of their own, and then took her along with them to Italy on a trip to visit relatives when Great-granny was about nineteen years old.”
    “Let me guess how this ends,” Wynnell said. “Your great-granny fell in love with an Italian sculptor who made a statue of her, and another human child, as they were both nursing from a wolf.”
    C.J. nearly fainted from surprise. “How did you know? Honest to Pete, Wynnell, I’ve never told anyone that story before. Granny Ledbetter made me promise never to tell it on account of it was just too personal to share—what with the nursing and all.”
    “I think your granny was right,” I said. “So don’t tell anyone else.” I put my hands on my hips in the most unladylike of stances and gave them each a frank stare, but not one of them even had the courtesy to blink. “Okay, given that y’all are such good liars, maybe y’all will be of some help— down the line . But I need to collect my thoughts first. In the meantime, you might wish to drive back to I–77 and go north an exit or two. I seem to remember some chain motels up there.”
    “That’s all right, dear,” Mama said. “We’re already checked in here. I’m bunking with you, of course—my bags are already in the room—and Wynnell and C.J. will be sharing a room.”
    “Of course,” I said. There went any hope of unwinding.
    “In case you’re wondering how we’re going to pay for these fancy-schmancy digs,” Wynnell said, without a trace of sarcasm, “I’ve been squirreling away money for a long time in hopes of a ‘girls’ weekend’ getaway. And this, Abby, certainly fits the bill.”
    I urged my lips to form a smile, even just a small one. “But who’s minding the shop, Wynnell? Both of my employees are standing right here.”
    “Ooh, Abby, guess,” C.J. said, suddenly animated again. “You’ll never guess who.”
    “Mayor Riley?”
    “Good one, Abby! I did ask him,” she said guilelessly, “but he said his schedule had been filled for some time. Guess again!”
    “Oh what the heck, I guess Greg.”
    “Abby! How did you do it? Are you psychic like your mama?”
    “Wait just one cotton-pickin’ minute! My husband , Greg, is minding my shop, the Den of Antiquity?”
    C.J. nodded happily, while Wynnell nodded sheepishly.
    “Don’t worry,” Wynnell said. “He’ll be fine. My Ed will be checking in on him from time to time—and Booger is there as well.”
    “What’s