Promised Land Read Online Free

She sat at the table and turned her father’s empty coffee cup in a continuous circle in front of her. Shepard went off to collect the phone bills and letters. Millie didn’t speak.
    ”Any thoughts on where your mother might be, Millie?“
    She shook her head.
    ”Does that mean you don’t know or you won’t say.“
    She shrugged and continued to turn the coffee cup carefully.
    ”You want her back?“
    She shrugged again. When I turn on the charm they melt like butter.
    ”Why do you think she ran off?“
    ”I don’t know,“ she said, staring at the cup. Already she was starting to pour out her heart to me.
    ”If you were she,“ I said, ”would you run off?“
    ”I wouldn’t leave my children,“ she said and there was some emphasis on the my.
    ”Would you leave your husband?“
    ”I’d leave him,“ she said and jerked her head toward the door her father had gone through.
    ”Why?“
    ”He’s a jerk.“
    ”What’s jerky about him?“
    She shrugged.
    ”Work too hard? Spend too much time away from the family?“
    She shrugged again.
    ”Honey,“ I said. ”On the corner I hang out, when you call someone a jerk you’re supposed to say why, especially if it’s family.“
    ”Big deal,“ she said.
    ”It’s one of the things that separate adults from children,“ I said.
    ”Who wants to be an adult?“
    ”I been both and adult is better than kid.“
    ”Sure,“ she said.
    ”Who’s your mother’s best friend?“ I said.
    She shrugged again. I thought about getting up and throwing her through the window. It made me feel good for a minute, but people would probably call me a bully.
    ”You love your mother?“
    She rolled her eyes at the ceiling and gave a sigh. ”Course,“ she said and looked back at the circles she was making with the coffee cup. Perhaps I could throw it through the window instead.
    ”How do you know she’s not in trouble?“
    ”I don’t know.“
    ”How do you know she’s not kidnapped?“
    ”I don’t know.“
    ”Or sick someplace with no one to help her.“ Ah, the fertility of my imagination. Maybe she was the captive of a dark mysterious count in a castle on the English moors. Should I mention to the kid a fate worse than death?
    ”I don’t know. I mean my father just said she ran away. Isn’t he supposed to know?“
    ”He doesn’t know. He’s guessing. And he’s trying to spare you in his jerky way from worse worry.“
    ”Well, why doesn’t he find out?“
    ”Ahhh, oh giant of brain, come the light. What the hell do you think he’s hired me for?“
    ”Well, why don’t you find out.“ She had stopped turning the coffee cup.
    ”That’s what I’m trying to do. Why don’t you help? So far your contribution to her rescue is four I-don’t-knows and six shrugs. Plus telling me your old man’s a jerk but you don’t know why.“
    ”What if she really did run away and doesn’t want to come back?“
    ”Then she doesn’t come back. I almost never use my leg irons on women anymore.“
    ”I don’t know where she is.“
    ”Why do you suppose she left?“
    ”You already asked me that.“
    ”You didn’t answer.“
    ”My father got on her nerves.“
    ”Like how?“
    ”Like, I don’t know. He was always grabbing at her, you know. Patting her ass, or saying gimme a kiss when she was trying to vacuum. That kind of stuff. She didn’t like it.“
    ”They ever talk about it?“
    ”Not in front of me.“
    ”What did they talk about in front of you?“
    ”Money. That is, my old man did. My old lady just kind of listened. My old man talks about money and business all the time. Keeps talking about making it big. Jerk.“
    ”Your father ever mistreat your mother?“
    ”You mean hit her or something?“
    ”Whatever.“
    ”No. He treated her like a goddamned queen, actually. That’s what was driving her crazy. I mean he was all over her. It was gross. He was sucking after her all the time. You know?“
    ”Did she have any friends that weren’t friends