Reason Is You (9781101576151) Read Online Free Page A

a hearty hug.
    “You haven’t changed one bit, girl,” she said as she pulled back to study me.
    “You just saw me last year,” I said, squeezing her arm.
    “Yeah, but I keep getting a different perspective.” She laughed and adjusted her giant bag. “The rate I’m shrinkin’, I’ll probably need a booster seat in a year.”
    Miss Olivia was a frailer, thinner version of the woman she used to be, but the eyes never changed. Full of piss and vinegar, she’d say.
    “You should see Riley now,” I said. “This past year, she went from skinny with braces to a body that scares the hell out of me.”
    “I imagine I will at some point, eh? I heard you were back. Back for good?”
    My mouth opened to form the words, but oppression that had nothing to do with the heat weighed me down. I looked around at the dusty building, the cracked pavement, the handwritten scribble on a piece of notebook paper in my hand telling me about this job—and just smiled. What the hell else could I do? Cry? Not in public.
    “Looks kinda that way,” I finally forced out. “I’m here to see if they’ll give me a job.”
    Miss Olivia paused on that a second, then nodded and patted my arm. “Well, things do as they do, you know? All we can do is hold on and hope for a good seat.”
    I chuckled. “Guess so.”
    “Well, let’s get in out of this sun, girl. I don’t need more spots, I’m speckled enough.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    We walked in together; I took her bag that seemed to lob her to one side and smiled in spite of it all. If anyone could see the sunny side of a pile of shit, that woman could.
    I followed Miss Olivia to the counter and hauled her bag up for the lady to see when she gestured for me to do so. She upended it, and handmade soaps of every possible color and scent tumbled out, each meticulously wrapped in plastic wrap and tagged with a pink ribbon.
    “Got a good batch here, Miss O,” the lady said, inspecting each one. “Last one went in a week. Think you can churn out some more?”
    “I got nothin’ but time, Marg. Nothin’ but time. My great-nephew is comin’ to spend the summer with me in a couple of weeks, so I won’t even have yard work to do.”
    Marg rested on her elbows. “Really? What’s that about?”
    “Hell if I know,” Miss Olivia said, shaking her head so the straw hat wiggled. “My brothers are still overprotective, I guess. Think I’m gonna kick the bucket if I do any work, so they send slave labor.”
    Marg looked at me. “Who’s this?” Marg was heavyset, in a solid sort of way, weather-worn, tanned, but still a relatively pretty face with very white teeth and icy blue eyes.
    “Oh, sorry,” I spoke up, wiping a hand on my capris before I offered it. “I’m Dani Shane, Nathaniel’s daughter?”
    Marg’s eyes lit up at that. How interesting. “Nathaniel, huh? How’s he doing?”
    “Great. I was told to ask for—” I checked my paper. “Margie Pete?”
    “You found her.”
    “About a job opening you have?”
    Marg threw some cashews in her mouth as she sized me up.
Foo-foo, soft little corporate female.
I’m sure that’s what registered. What registered with me is that she didn’t appear to know me. That was always a plus.
    “I need somebody to schedule the fishing guides and the bait runs,” she said and paused as though it were a waste of time. “Answer the phone and work the store.”
    “Okay.”
    “I’ve got two guides and a guy who does the bait runs, but all that needs to be scheduled now, all formal. Didn’t used to be, but we got a new owner. Chuney got too old and sold out to a guy from the Midwest.” She scratched her head. “A lot of structure with this new owner.”
    No bitterness there. “Gotcha.”
    “And if a guide bails at the last minute, it’s you.”
    That got my attention. “Come again?”
    She smirked. “Tell me what you know about the river.”
    My thoughts scattered into panic mode, then gathered back again to hold hands and shiver.