Death Takes a Honeymoon Read Online Free PDF

stepping onto it from the door of the plane, I could feel the hot high-desert air stealing in from outside, with that peculiar and enlivening quality that tells you you’re not at sea level anymore. It felt odd yet familiar, and I knew that after being here, my first breath of Seattle air would taste damp and heavy.
    At the security gate, I scanned the waiting crowd for a familiar face.
    “Carrie, over here!”
    “Mom?”
    I set down my tote bag to embrace her, then leaned back to stare. Tall and trim, she wore a leaf-green linen dress I’d never seen before, as well as mascara and a touch of perfume. All three were unusual for my mother, but the real shocker was her hair. Short and chic, it framed her long, strong, suntanned face in curving silver feathers.
    “What have you done with my mother?”
    She smiled demurely and gave me both profiles. “Do you like it, really? I got so tired of all the perming and the coloring and the fussing, I thought, what the hell!”
    I laughed aloud. Coming from Louise Kincaid, this was daring language indeed.
    “It looks terrific, Mom. You’re right, what the hell!”
    “Don’t you dare tell Timmy, though. I want to surprise him.” My younger brother had been called Timmy as a child. Now, married and with a child of his own, he was still Timmy to me.
    “My lips are utterly sealed.”
    Then we both stopped laughing, struck by the guilty realization that our first words should have been about Brian. We spoke at once.
    “I was so sorry to hear—”
    “It’s terrible, such a nice—”
    We fell silent and hugged again, holding on to our own bond at the news of our relatives’ loss.
    “Do you know how it happened?” I asked, but Mom shook her head.
    “Only that it was an accident. I called his parents in Chicago, of course, but they didn’t have the details yet and I hated to pester them.” She sighed. “The funeral will be out there, but I didn’t offer to attend. Is that awful of me? Last-minute plane fares are so expensive, and I haven’t seen anyone on that side of the family in so long, I’d feel like a bit of a hypocrite.”
    “I’m sure they understand, Mom.”
    “I hope so. Well, shall we have coffee here before you go? I need to perk up for my tennis tournament, and I don’t want you getting drowsy on your drive. You look so tired, dear. Are you getting enough sleep?”
    “I’m fine, Mom.” As we walked, I took in the wide hallways and the artful tile work of the new terminal. Boise was coming up in the world. “I’m just fine.”
    “What a shame Aaron couldn’t come and share the driving with you. He’s never seen your hometown.”
    “It’s only a two-hour drive, Mom. And Aaron isn’t self-employed like I am. He couldn’t take the time off.”
    “Mmm.”
    I knew that
Mmm.
“Look, I’m fine, and Aaron will come another time. Could we drop it?”
    “Irritability is a sign of sleep deprivation, you know. Let’s get you your coffee. We’d better fetch your bag first, though, you can never tell who’s lurking around. Not that we have anything like the crime rate of Seattle. I saw on the news just last night—”
    “Mom, I’ve been meaning to ask,” I countered, fending off our umpteenth conversation about why I should move back to Idaho. “Should you be playing tennis with your arthritis?”
    “Don’t be silly, dear! Everyone says that exercise is the best thing you can do. Is that yours? You didn’t pack very light, did you?”
    “Sure I did. Sort of.” I yanked my suitcase off the conveyor belt. At the last minute I’d thrown in all my cosmetics and this heavenly little turquoise dress I’d bought in Miami Beach. You never know. “So what’s this tournament?”
    “Just a little seniors competition. Imagine me being a senior! But it’s sixty and over, so I qualify.” As we rode the escalator to the airport’s coffee shop, she put a hand on my arm. “Give B.J. my best, won’t you? Cissy told me that she was a friend of