Purely Relative Read Online Free Page A

nodded, as did Scott.
    “I still need to get one other special gift,” Jon said in
the pause that followed. He cut his eyes in my direction, supplying the
necessary clue I needed to understand he meant me.
    “Aww, you’re sweet,” I said, giving him one of my best
smiles.
    He squeezed my knee in response, stroking the flesh with his
thumb. Someone was already warming up for dessert. He flashed his sharklike
smile, no doubt picturing me as the cherry on top. With a home-cooked meal in
his belly, his reserves fully charged, the evening promised to be quite
energetic once the turkey drugs wore off. My giblets warmed at the thought of a
warm and sated Jon stretched out in my bed, that same predatory smile affixed
to his face. If only I didn’t have to pee like a racehorse on steroids.
    “Which way is the bathroom,” I asked Jon in a whisper.
    He nodded his head back over his shoulder. “Down the hall
toward the front door, last door on your left.”
    “Excuse me a second,” I mumbled for politeness. No one
really noticed. The ladies were engaged in Black Friday plans while the men
discussed bowl games for the remainder of Thanksgiving and into Friday.
    I squeezed my feet back into my high heels and tottered in
the direction Jon mentioned. But did he say last door on the right or the left?
I paused. Both doors were shut. I checked the doorknob on the right. It turned
freely and I cracked it open enough to peer inside. A home office complete with
a massive twelve-point buck head stuffed and mounted on the wall and an old
Texas flag framed and hanging near that. Oops. Must have been the left one
then.
    I piddled, in no hurry to return, reapplied the lipstick I’d
stashed in my pocket, and fluffed my hair. Yes, I peeked in the tiny cabinet
mounted over the toilet. Finding nothing more exciting than a crossword puzzle
magazine and pen clipped to the cover (yikes! a pro!), a supply of small
towels, soap, and toilet paper, I concluded the powder room was intended for
incidental day-visitor usage only. Before I could shut the cabinet doors,
however, the puzzle book slid forward and sent a stack of washcloths hurtling
toward the toilet. I caught them all with the skill of a juggler. As I raised
my arms with a pounding heart to restore them to rights, the crossword puzzle
magazine fluttered past yelling, “Cannonball!”
     
     

Chapter 4
    “Shhhhit!” I reached in to the
toilet to pluck out the magazine and pen. They were sopping wet and left a
watery trail from toilet to sink where I tossed them. Crap, crap, crap .
Well, good thing I’d already flushed, but toilet water was still pretty gross.
Who keeps facecloths in a main level powder room anyway?
    Rising up, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. “Don’t
give me that look. Everybody does it. How was I to know the thing was booby
trapped,” I said to the disapproving twin in the mirror. She shook her head,
prompting a current of shame to ripple through.
    What to do about the crossword puzzle book though? I flipped
the pages. Its owner had completed over two-thirds of the puzzles. The ink ran
down the pages and made a smeary mess. Ruined. I’d have to buy another one. I
checked the front cover. Special Edition from a year ago. Well, wasn’t that
dandy? I’d have to buy a new one of a similar difficulty level, at least.
    The door handle rattled. I had set the lock, thank goodness.
“Gayle, are you still in there?” asked the voice on the other side. Sophia. Of
course it was. “Everything okay?”
    Panicked, I checked the garbage can, but it was empty,
nothing to hide the evidence amongst. “Just fine. Almost done!” Nowhere else to
stash the evidence, either.
    A small window caught my eye. The glass was opaque, intended
to let in light but keep peeping Toms out. I flushed the toilet for cover
noise, unlatched the window and turned a crank handle. The window pivoted
outward. No screen barred my way, thank goodness. A quick look outside and I
realized I faced