The Weight of Blood

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Book: Read The Weight of Blood for Free Online
Authors: Laura McHugh
the boathouse. Crete’s truck was parked out back, a boat trailer hitched to it. “Get on in,” he said.
    We climbed into the cab. “Where’re we going?”
    â€œI thought for your first day, we’d start with something easy.” He grinned. “How about some fishing?”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound like work,” I said. “Not that I’m complaining.”
    He laughed and held a finger up to his lips. “Don’t tell your dad. And put on some sunscreen. All that skin peeling off makes you look like a goddamn leper.”
    We fished until lunchtime, not catching anything worth keeping, and then headed back to Dane’s for hamburgers. Crete set me up at the front register, and I spent most of the afternoon staring out the window, hoping to catch sight of Daniel. Crete drove me home after work, telling me that he’d be gone the next day and Judd would be in charge. I ran straight into the house to called Bess, and we spent a good hour discussing the way Daniel’s hair hung down in his eyes (sexy), and the fullness of his lips (not too full), and the dimple that appeared in his cheek when he smiled (also sexy).
    Bess complained that no hot guys ever came into the Laundromat. She’d spent her first day, and probably would spend every day after that, watching granny panties and overalls swirl around in the machines.
    There was no mention of Cheri on the Springfield nightly news. Her murder was no longer the top story, and more and more time had started to creep in between updates. I wondered how long it would take her to fade into legend, just like my mother.
    The next morning at work, I found Judd in the kitchen and asked him what I should be doing. “I don’t know,” he said after asking me to repeat myself. A knife trembled in his liver-spotted hands as he sliced a sandwich into crooked halves. “Go watch Debbie work the register.”
    â€œI already know how to do the register,” I said, extra loud so he could hear me. He had to be getting too old to work, but he’d shown no interest in retiring from his position as assistant manager. “I can help you. Need me to make sandwiches?”
    â€œNah, just packing lunch for the new kid. He’ll be doing some cleanup out on the property today.”
    The new kid. Daniel. “Why don’t I go help with that? If you don’t really need me around here. I’ll just make an extra lunch for myself.” I grabbed the jar of peanut butter.
    Judd looked uncertain. “Ain’t easy work, I expect. Don’t know if Crete’d want you out there.”
    â€œHe told me to do whatever you said. To make myself useful.” I spread jelly on bread and rummaged around for paper sacks.
    Judd sighed. “I suppose it’ll get done quicker with two.”
    I finished packing the lunches, and Daniel walked up to the counter, nodding hello. “Lucy’s coming along,” Judd said. Daniel nodded again, his expression unchanged, and the three of us headed out to the parking lot and piled into Judd’s truck. I held my arms in my lap to keep from brushing elbows with Daniel—up close, he smelled like Ivory soap and line-dried laundry—and began to second-guess my impulsive decision. As much as I wanted to be near him, he made me nervous. We’d never had a real conversation, had never spoken about the game of spin the bottle. How could spending the day alone with him be anything but awkward and uncomfortable?
    I was also starting to wonder what exactly I’d volunteered for. Crete’s property contained an abandoned homestead, thickets of impenetrable brush, and a scrap-metal graveyard littered with car parts and appliances. I hated to guess which of those things I’d be cleaning up.
    We bumped along the dirt road that led toward Crete’s house, and Judd turned off on another, narrower road, just two tire tracks with weeds growing in between.

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