Blueprints: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

logo of MacAfee Homes on its dusty flanks, Jamie’s car was pure indulgence.
    Gathering bags from the passenger’s seat, she climbed out. Those feet on the rail twitched in a little wave as she started up the walk. Her mother’s toenails were orange; she had seen them the day before. Pedicures were one of Caroline’s weaknesses, and bright toenails were only the start. She had been wearing jeans that were yellow, purple, or green long before they became a fad. When she coordinated those jeans with shirts that were striped or plaid, she was a standout. Gut It! addicts also loved the bright sweaters she wore in cool weather and the hot-red parka she wore in snow. When the executive producer once suggested that she try for sophistication with black, the Facebook uproar had been fierce. Viewers wanted boldness, and her mother gave them that. There was nothing stodgy about her. Too old? No way!
    Jamie swallowed her dismay .
    Caroline was pink and braless today, her soft tank and shorts a tribute to heat and a well-earned hiatus. Her hair was a messy knot of waves at her crown, her face bare of makeup and gorgeous in a totally natural way.
    Less gorgeous was the thick bandage around her right hand and wrist, but the absence of last night’s sling was a relief. More reassuring, though, was Caroline’s face, which was back to its natural glow. Her recovery-room pallor yesterday had terrified Jamie.
    Carrying the bags, she bypassed newly budding roses and climbed the front steps. “Is it better or worse now that you can feel the pain?”
    “Better,” Caroline said with warm fern eyes, “but anything would be. There’s nothing more disconcerting than having a body part that feels like it belongs to someone else. You look beautiful.”
    Jamie bent to kiss her cheek. It smelled woodsy, like lily-of-the-valley body wash, which meant Caroline had managed to bathe, another good sign. “Happy Birthday,” she sang and drew back. “How do you feel?”
    “Lazy.”
    “Lazy is good on a day like this. Warm, huh?”
    “I’ve worked in worse.”
    “Yeah, well, the doctor said not to do anything today,” Jamie warned and looked around. The laptop was blessedly absent.
    Not so Master, Caroline’s cat. Shimmying its massive gray coat out from under the wicker chair beyond the swing, the Maine Coon gave Jamie’s leg a rub. “Poor baby must be roasting,” she murmured, before refocusing on her mother’s wrist. “Does it hurt?”
    “Compared to raging tendonitis? Nope.”
    “So yes, it hurts,” she deduced, because Caroline wasn’t a complainer. She saw wrist problems as an occupational hazard that couldn’t be helped. No one on the set had known she was in pain, and had that pain not grown progressively worse, she would never have agreed to surgery. Officially, now that taping was done, she was just “taking a few days off.”
    She looked thoroughly pleased with herself, which made Jamie suspicious.
    “What are you taking?”
    “Tylenol.”
    “You look too happy for just that.”
    Caroline laughed. “I’m relieved. I hate surgery. So now it’s behind me, and here I am in my favorite place with my favorite person.” The sultry quiet of the front porch was a far cry from recent days on the set. The only sounds here were the buzz of bees in the roses, the hum of a Weedwacker several houses down, and the gentle creak of Caroline’s love seat as the chain moved to and fro. She eyed Jamie’s armload. “Whatcha got?”
    Wedging a drained iced-tea glass between her bags, Jamie managed to open the screen door. Master scooted into the house so close to her legs that she nearly bobbled the glass. “Food!” she called back as the door slapped shut.
    The air inside smelled of age in a hallowed way, and though it was marginally cooler after the night, Jamie knew that wouldn’t last. Her heels ticked along the dark hardwood of the hall as she passed a whitewashed grandfather clock and an L of stairs. The walls of both