Apples Should Be Red Read Online Free PDF Page A

and clothing and trips.” She tilted her chin. “Those pearls were it for me.”
    “You knew about her? I always wondered about that. If you knew.”
    “You knew?”
    “Yeah. I knew. I saw them together.”
    She stumbled backwards, but Tom caught her by the elbow.
    “Steady there.”
    “You, you saw her? What did she look like? I knew her perfume. I could smell it on him when he got home. At first he would shower right away. After a while, he didn’t even care about that. And neither did I. By that time he was sleeping in the guest room with the television going all night.”
    Tom scratched the back of his neck. “I saw them, but they didn’t see me. She was trashy. Couldn’t hold a candle to you. Roger was an idiot.”
    “Yes, well, perhaps I was the idiot. I stayed with him.”
    “No. You’re not the idiot. Now you’re free. What you decide to do with that…that either makes you an idiot, a coward, or someone a little bit fierce.” He smiled at her. “Feeling fierce, Bev?”
    Tom’s eyes raked over her face, but for the first time his gaze felt gentle. She filed that interesting sensation away to explore later on.
    “Me? Fierce?” Her laugh sounded strained. “Do I look fierce? I look like a tired old woman standing in a pile of chicken shit.”
    Tom’s face broke into a huge grin. And then he started to laugh. He bent over at the waist and wheezed, with his hand on his knees. “Well, how about that? I got Miss Goody Two Shoes cussing.”
    Bev felt herself blush and rolled her eyes. “It’s not that funny.”
    “Yep. It is.” He glanced at something in the corner of the plot. “Come here.” Tom dragged her to the far end of the garden. He was still holding her hand. She liked his touch. It brought tears to her eyes.
    “Look at that eggplant.” He lifted the gigantic vegetable and hefted it in his hands, as though calculating the weight. “Do you know how to make eggplant parmesan?”
    “Yes. I have a great recipe. Roger hated eggplant, so I hardly ever got to make it. Just for neighborhood parties.”
    Tom handed her the eggplant. “Roger was a douchebag.” He leaned down to pick several more vegetables. “I’ll go get the basket. Be right back.”
    She stood in the middle of the garden, her arms filled with purple eggplants, inhaling the scent of compost and earth and early morning sunshine.
    The smell was growing on her.

 

    “S top fidgeting. It’s not so bad.” Tom squeezed a blob of first aid cream onto Bev’s arm. “The sting will go away in a few minutes.”
    “I don’t believe you.” Bev’s forehead furrowed in concentration.
    He was so close to her, he could smell the detergent on her clothes and the shampoo she used. Tom liked a woman who looked her age. No plastic surgery, no plastic boobs, no plastic lips. In fact, hard to believe, Bev looked extremely fuckable at the moment. The tip of her nose was pink, her perfect hair had fallen into wispy chunks around her face, and her lips were rosy and plump. No hideous salmon-colored lip gloss today.
    “I swear, sometimes I think that plant has a brain and a diabolical agenda.” He could have stopped smoothing the cream on Bev’s arm, but he didn’t.
    “What do you mean?”
    “It shot you about one centimeter above the edge of your gloves. That’s just plain diabolical. Motherfucking stinging nettle.” Reluctantly, he stopped administering to Bev’s rash. She’d been a trooper for over an hour. Weeding, collecting vegetables, re-mulching the paths.
    He really wanted to fuck her.
    “It feels like a bee sting.” She blew on the red welts.
    “I know. The good thing is it goes away pretty fast.” Tom stared at her mouth.
    “Tom? What are you looking at?”
    “Uh. Nothing. Tell me what you need for the eggplant recipe. I’ll pick it up for you at the store.”
    “Oh! I would love to go to the store. I need a few more things for Thanksgiving dinner.”
    He leaned forward and bit her bottom lip. It was just the