The Summer's End Read Online Free Page B

with the wildlife that teemed in the lowcountry—insects, anoles, frogs, snakes. She’d learned to deal with them, but she didn’t think she’d ever get used to their jumping out at her. Once, she was pulling weeds from the grasses in her garden when a snake shot straight out from the grass. Lucille had told her the grasses were a favorite hiding place for snakes, which is why the basket weavers always had their men go fetch the sweetgrass for them.
    â€œI think I’d rather face a poisonous snake than a palmetto bug,” Harper said. “But I’m not about to be made a laughingstock by no friggin’ roach.” She grabbed a thick wad of paper towels, set her jaw, and marched with purpose to the sink, where she thought she’d seen the bug land.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Dora asked.
    â€œWhat do you think I’m doing?”
    Her sisters watched as she went to the sink and, with an outstretched arm, poised to leap back, nudged the dirty pot. Then the sponge. Suddenly the bug bolted. But not fast enough. Harper pounced and heard a gross pop that had her stomach reeling. In a rush she dispatched the bug to the trash. When she turned back to her sisters, she saw with great satisfaction the look of shock mixed with awe on their faces.
    â€œDon’t throw it out,” Carson said. “You should cut off its head and wings and stake them around the perimeter of the house as a warning to all the other bugs out there to what happens if they come inside.”
    Dora laughed. “Good one.”
    â€œI’ll tell you what’s not funny”—Harper frowned—“the state of this kitchen.” She waved her arm, indicating the dishes and food scraps on the table, then the sink overflowing with dishes. “Dirty dishes left in the sink, crumbs on the table. No wonder we have bugs.” She shook her head. “Lucille must be rolling over in her grave.”
    Dora and Carson were immediately chastened. They gazed around the kitchen with somber expressions.
    â€œIt’s not only the kitchen,” Harper said. “There’s a film of dust on all the furniture. Dust bunnies on the floor.”
    â€œMamaw had to cancel the cleaning crew,” Dora said. “She said she had to cut back. All of us living here, eating her food, using her hot water, has really upped her monthly expenses.”
    â€œNot to mention the bedrooms she created for us,” Harper added.
    Dora shook her head. “We’re still acting like those little girls who used to come here in the summer. All we did was play and eat and fight and think of ourselves. We didn’t do a lick of work, not really. And here we are, doing the same thing. Only we aren’t little girls anymore, are we?”
    Harper walked to the table and lifted the nearly empty carton of cookies. “Okay, who ate all the cookies and just left the package out, crumbs and all?”
    With her long hair flying Carson looked like an Amazon princess on the warpath as she stomped to Harper to snatch the carton from her hands. She took out the final fig cookie and popped it into her mouth. “I’m sorry,” Carson snapped. “I was hungry. Hey, I’m pregnant. Didn’t you ever hear of midnight cravings? It happens.”
    Harper looked at Carson’s abdomen and wondered again how a baby could be growing inside that flat, taut belly.
    Dora said, “We don’t care about you eating the cookies. Eat as many as you want. Just clean up after yourself! We’re not your maids. Besides, it’s not just Carson making a mess. It’s all of us.”
    Carson looked at her older sister. “You’re right, of course. We can’t expect Mamaw to take care of us. Nor should she. We should be taking care of her.”
    â€œAmen,” Dora said.
    â€œI wanted to talk to you about that,” Harper said, warming to the topic. “I’m worried about her. Want to