Название: Gonna Lay Down My Burdens
Автор: Mary Monroe
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
isbn: 9780758259097
isbn:
“Well, Aunt Nadine had been depressed for years, you know,” Desiree muttered.
“So much for her getting off. Just think how much better her life would have been if nobody ever knew she killed your uncle.”
Desiree sighed and nodded. “You better hurry up and get your shit packed before we go on the lam.”
Trying to decide what to take with me was something I didn’t know how to approach. I’d never been “on the lam” before. Desiree had not taken anything from Chester’s house other than what she had on her back and in her purse. She had already packed what was important to her in the two suitcases she had stored in my bedroom closet on the floor below my color-coded designer suits.
“I can’t take both my suitcases,” she announced, moving toward me. “It’d be too much trouble. Where’s that travel bag you won at the church raffle last year?”
“That’s what I was planning to use,” I wailed.
“You got another small bag?”
“I don’t know. My sister left a lot of her stuff here when she got married and moved to Nigeria. I’ll look through it and see.”
Desiree followed me to my bedroom, where she dragged her two suitcases out of the closet and hauled them into the living room. I pulled the black-leather travel bag that I had won at church from the top shelf of my closet and placed it on the bed. I unzipped it and stood up looking around the room. I slid into the Nikes I had left on the floor by the side of my bed, but I planned to pack a second pair. Without thinking I bounced from drawer to drawer, pulling out jeans, comfortable blouses, sensible underwear. I had enough makeup in my purse, so a half-used container of Arid Extra Dry and a fresh bottle of Lubriderm lotion were the only things I took from the bathroom.
“There’s that commuter bus at five in the morning. Thank God we don’t know anybody who rides that bus. Not that many people ride it on a Saturday anyway. It’ll get us to Mobile, where we can connect with a Greyhound,” Desiree said, peeking into my room.
My mouth dropped open so wide, I could feel the night air coming in through my cracked window all the way to the back of my tongue. “Greyhound? How far do you think we’ll get on a Greyhound bus?”
“I know you hadn’t planned on hopping on a plane.” Desiree wailed like a wounded raccoon and looked like one with her blackened eyes and swollen lips.
“I hadn’t planned on any of this,” I said thoughtfully. Until now I had not even considered what mode of transportation we were going to use to leave the state. “We have enough money for a plane ticket.”
“We don’t have that much money between us. What we have is not enough for us to pay for two spur-of-the-moment tickets to California and have enough left over to last us until…until we get out of this mess. And if we fly we’ll be leaving a paper trail. You have to show a picture ID when you fly these days. Everything will go into their computers—shit. And don’t even think about driving your car.”
“I don’t have that many miles on it. It would make it to California,” I said.
Desiree shook her head and snapped, “Are you out of your mind? The highways are full of patrolmen lying in wait. Like spiders. If we go, we go by bus.” I could tell by Desiree’s tone of voice she was determined to do things her way, even though the heaviest part of our crime was on my shoulders. “We’re catching a bus,” she said with resignation.
“All the way to California from here?”
“We have to get to Mobile first. Didn’t I just tell you that? We don’t have a Greyhound station here. After we leave Mobile we’ll have to transfer left and right, and it will still take us three and a half days to get to California.” Desiree sighed and patted her chest before she fanned her face with her hand. There was so much sweat on her forehead, her hair was plastered to her flesh.
“Well…what about the train?”
“What about it?”
“Wouldn’t we get to California faster on a train?” I asked, blinking stupidly.
“It would be about the same as a bus. I know because that’s how my sister went to California.” Desiree blinked and managed a weak smile. “Since we have a little time to kill, we better get some rest because we’re going to need it.”
As soon as Desiree left my bedroom, I sat down hard on the bed and exhaled. A picture on my nightstand caught my attention. I had to blink hard to hold back my tears. It was a framed eight-by-ten glossy picture in color that had been taken at Rocco’s, our favorite local bar. In the picture, standing next to me, was Desiree grinning so hard her eyes looked like slits. Her mouth was stretched open so wide; she looked like she had twice as many teeth as me. She had on a red jumpsuit she had made herself. That was the happiest I had seen her in a long time. Standing behind Desiree was Chester, looking straight into the camera with a crooked sneer on his face. His long arm was wrapped around my shoulder when it should have been around Desiree’s. That Chester. He was one complicated man. Directly in front of me was Burl Tupper, another enigma, the man I had agreed to marry. Burl was almost as light as Desiree, and his curly black hair framed the top of his plump, round face like a dark cloud. Everybody liked Burl’s large gray eyes and the dimples in his cheeks. That’s what had initially attracted me to him in the first place.
It brought tears to my eyes when I realized just how much the three people sharing the picture with me had impacted my life. Burl especially.
I focused my attention on Burl’s image. Through warm and unexpected tears I stared at the huge, shiny silver wheelchair he occupied. His thick, useless legs were hidden inside a pair of baggy designer jeans.
As expensive, fancy, and comfortable as the wheelchair looked, it was the prison that I had sent him to for life.
CHAPTER 5
“Carmen, where is that bottle I left over here the other night?”
Desiree had cracked open my bedroom door just wide enough to lean her head in. She stared at me as I lay on the bed in a near-catatonic state. For the first time in my life, I knew how it felt to be obese and disabled. I felt like four hundred pounds of useless flesh. My long, willowy legs were like logs. I had to move each one with both hands. The rest of my body felt like a side of beef. With great difficulty I managed to lift myself into a sitting position. My shadow on the wall was a fright. My head, my hair reaching up like antlers, resembled the head of a reindeer. I was glad to see that Desiree had covered the bush on her head with a baseball cap that Daddy had left in my apartment. And she had replaced the one-sleeved blouse with a thin blue pullover sweater.
“What bottle?” I asked, clearing my throat and blinking hard.
“The one—” Desiree paused and bowed her head for a brief moment before returning her attention to me. “You’re crying.” She gasped. “In all the years I’ve known you, the only other things that made you cry were funerals and the IRS. A big old strong, strapping thing like you.” I could tell that my tears were giving Desiree something else to be concerned about. Big old strong, strapping women like me СКАЧАТЬ