Crossing Oceans Read Online Free PDF

has fruit!”
    She followed my gaze. “Ain’t that something? This is the first year it’s done that. I told her that thing would never produce if she didn’t cross-pollinate by planting another variety. I guess she was right. I should have had a little faith.”
    Memories of my mother’s gaunt face smeared with dirt as her bony fingers pressed the hand spade into earth replayed in my mind. I wished she could be here now to see it. “I always thought it was strange she took the time to plant that when she knew she was dying.”
    Mama Peg set her sponge down and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “The true meaning of life is to plant trees whose shade you never expect to sit under. Or something like that.”
    I considered it a moment. “Wow, did you just make that up?”
    She shook her head. “I’m not that profound. Just heard it once or twice and it stuck with me.”
    I ran my hand over Isabella’s soft cheek. “Did you eat breakfast?”
    After a minute of silence, Mama Peg answered for her. “She had two hotcakes, four pieces of bacon, and a glass and a half of orange juice.”
    I snorted like a hog into the bend of Isabella’s neck, sending her into a laughing fit.
    Moments later, my grandmother laid three steaming pancakes, several strips of bacon, and a glass of orange juice before me. I grinned my thanks and got busy spreading butter.
    Coffee in hand, she took a seat across from me. “How’d you sleep, kid?”
    I drowned my plate in maple syrup. “Perfect. Where’s Dad?”
    I had to wait for her coughing fit to subside to get my answer. “Probably still in bed. He came in late.”
    Maple and butter played a delicious melody in my mouth. I swallowed my bite and took a sip of juice. Its bitter taste ended the symphony and killed my appetite. “How late?”
    “Two.”
    A piece of bacon tried to enter my lungs instead of stomach, making me cough so hard I thought my eyes would pop out.
    “Put your hands above your head,” Mama Peg said.
    Ignoring her advice, I took another drink instead.
    “You okay, Mommy?”
    I caught my breath before answering. “I’m fine. I laid your clothes out on our floor. Go get dressed for me, okay?”
    She closed the coloring book without an argument, and I felt a surge of thankfulness. When I heard her feet on the stairs, I asked my grandmother, “Why did he come in so late?”
    “What happened between you two last night?” Her milky gaze bored holes through me.
    “I told him.”
    “About Isabella or about—”
    “Just Bella.”
    She nodded as though agreeing with my decision. “So you’re throwing one grenade at a time instead of taking the mushroom cloud approach. That’s probably wise.”
    “If I wanted to tell him everything, I would have had to run after him screaming.”
    “He walked away?”
    “Doesn’t he always?”
    A wry smile met me. “You might want to move out of that glass house of yours before you hurl stones at his.”
    The truth of her words stung. Maybe I was more like him than I’d considered. Not liking the thought, I swept it away. “I wonder where he went for four hours?”
    “Finish your breakfast.”
    Though I no longer had any desire to eat, to please her I pushed my fork into another square of pancake.
    She plucked a half-eaten piece of bacon from my plate and popped it into her mouth, speaking between crunches. “With him, who knows? He might have walked, or fallen asleep in the canoe, or—”
    My father’s footsteps bit off her words. He walked through the doorway with a bottom lip twice the size of the top and a left nostril crusted with red. Mama Peg and I exchanged questioning glances.
    I’d forgotten I was no longer speaking to him. “What happened to you?”
    He made his way to the cupboard and pulled out a coffee mug. “What happened to me when?”
    Mama Peg coughed, then pointed to his mouth. “Your face.”
    He busied himself pouring coffee into his mug.
    “Jack, what did you do?” She shook her head as