Cold Tea on a Hot Day Read Online Free PDF Page B

neither of them had fit together in a marriage. Set free, she had blossomed as a psychologist, mother, political activist.
    To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven, he thought as his gaze lit on thebig Porter house that came into view—the Holloway house, he mentally corrected.
    He thought of his season now, as he pulled the BMW to a stop in the driveway just outside the portico. His season had come to put down roots. He had reached that point, by golly, finally, at the age of fifty-one. It was a fact, he thought, that might daunt a lesser man.
    His strides were long and swift. He took the wide front steps two at a time and unlocked a door that needed refinishing. It creaked loudly when opened.
    He stepped inside, into a wide hallway. There was a pleasant scent of old wood. He walked through the musty rooms, the oak flooring creaking often beneath his steps as he gave everything a cursory, almost absent look, noting the amazing fact that Muriel had pretty much left everything just as it was.
    When Muriel had decided to leave, she had definitely decided to leave.
    He poked his head out the back door, the screen door that definitely needed replacing, then walked more slowly around the kitchen that had not been painted in twenty years. His cousin had not been a domestic type, any more than he had been. On into the dining room, where he unlocked the French doors and stepped out on the wraparound porch. By golly, he liked the porch! He was going to sit out here on hot afternoons and smoke his cigars and drink iced tea thick as syrup with sugar.
    Just then his gaze fell on the wicker settee, where he saw a little boy asleep.
    A little boy, a dog, and a big orange cat who regarded Tate with definite annoyance.

Four
    Vast Stretches of the Heart
    W hen Parker’s blue pickup truck, with the white-and-gold Lindsey Veterinary Clinic emblem on the side, came pulling up in her driveway, Marilee went running out to meet him. There was in the back of her mind the idea that he would be bringing Willie Lee.
    She saw immediately that he had not.
    “I heard about Willie Lee. Is he home yet?” Parker strode around the front of his truck toward her.
    “No…all this time, Parker…” Her arms pried themselves from her sides, and she reached for him.
    He took her against him and held her tight. Then, as he walked her back into the house, with his arm around her shoulders, Marilee told him of her conversation with the principal, of having searched the neighborhoods, of calling Sheriff Oakes, and of the helplessness of just having to wait. She did not mention the fear that was rising to choke her throat, that maybe this time Willie Leewas truly gone, a fear that had haunted her since the night she had delivered him early, blue and choking for breath.
    “He is just out diggin’ in a ditch for crawdads or explorin’ ant trails or something that boys do,” Parker said with perfect reasonableness.
    Recriminations for having felt the burden of being a mother echoed in her brain, bringing shame and self-loathing.
    “He’ll turn up, Marilee. It’ll be okay,” Parker whispered in her ear as he again drew her close.
    What was great about Parker was his solidity in any crisis. Probably it had something to do with being a veterinarian, facing life and death on a regular basis. He was not daunted by a crisis, but was, in fact, better in a crisis than at normal times. He could offer himself in a crisis, whereas during normal everyday times, he withheld himself and kept his affability around him like a shield.
    “Did you bring any cigarettes?” she asked.
    “No. Why would I have cigarettes?” He looked startled.
    “Parker, don’t you keep any, just in case?”
    “I quit three years ago, and so did you, remember?” he said with a righteousness that Marilee thought uncalled for in the situation.
    Annoyed, she almost asked him to go get her a pack, but then the phone rang.
    Phone calls had been coming in from