Fly the Rain Read Online Free PDF Page B

have happened? She knew
exactly how it happened.
    She cried herself to sleep and didn’t get
out of bed until Saturday afternoon.
    That night, when Buster came home drunk, he
had a terrible accident. It appeared that he lost his footing at
the top of the front porch steps, and fell backward. His head hit
the concrete sidewalk like a bag of ice thrown from a third story
window.
    Buster Crench would never again harm an
innocent, defenseless creature.

    Chapter 6

    “ Edsel?” said
Angie.
    “ Yeah?” he said, from under
the Oldsmobile.
    “ Dinner is
served.”
    “ Aw, Angie, you shouldn’t
have done that.”
    “ Well, what I’m I supposed
to do? Let you starve?”
    Edsel and Angie went through this at least
two or three nights a week. He normally walked over to Angie’s
restaurant for dinner. But some nights he’d lose track of time.
    Angie’s Country Fried
Two-Step served man-sized homestyle
meals. And incredible desserts. People would drive all the way from
Deweyville, about twenty-five minutes north of Orange, just for a
taste of Angie’s cherry pie—topped with Blue Bell ice cream, of
course.
    Her father, Herman Mayberly,
had done nothing but gripe since he retired and let Angie take over
the restaurant. She had spent thousands of dollars renovating the
place, adding a small dance floor and a little stage. And he could
not understand why she had to change the name. Mayberly’s . It was the family
name. And —it
sounded like neighborly . How could you go
wrong with a name like that?
    A local country band provided live dance
music every Friday and Saturday night. The youngest band member was
48. The rest of the week, people had to make do with the
jukebox.
    She had tried to explain her
reasoning to her father. Angie’s was to remind everybody
that she was now running things. Country
Fried let people know that they were
still serving homestyle food. And Two-Step was, of course, short
for Texas Two-Step, a popular country/western dance. Herman thought
the dance floor was a particularly stupid idea. It’ll cost too
much, he said, and it’s a waste of space. If she was going to
enlarge the building, it should be to accommodate more
tables.
    “ Come on, now,” said Angie.
“It’s after 8:00.”
    “ I’m coming.”
    He stood up, walked over to the sink,
grabbed the bar of Lava soap, and began to lather up his greasy
hands and arms.
    Angie liked to stay and talk with him while
he ate. They had been friends since she was in high school. He was
eight years older than her. And even at 42, she still looked like a
teenager to him. He figured her curly brown hair would never turn
gray. His, on the other hand, was beginning to.
    He was about to sit down when he noticed
that something was not right. “What’s this? Where’s my chicken
fried, chick-chicken fried, chicken fr-fried steak?”
    Usually, Angie’s mere presence was enough to
calm his stuttering. But not if he got upset.
    “ You shouldn’t be eating
fried food every night, Edsel. It’s not good for you. This grilled
chicken is healthy. Try it.”
    He sat down at the little table, cut a piece
and put it in his mouth. “Yeah, that’s pretty good.” Then he
noticed that something else was missing too. “But what about the
gravy? That’s my favorite part, Angie.”
    “ No, you see, you
don’t need gravy with grilled chicken.”
    “ Maybe you don’t.”
    “ I’m just looking out for
you, Edsel.”
    “ I know. And I appreciate
it. Sorry for being grouchy about it.”
    He took a bite of green beans, and some
corn. Then he washed it down with iced tea.
    She sat down across from him. “Oh, I’ve been
meaning to ask you—did you get an invitation to Ralph’s birthday
party?”
    “ Yep.”
    “ Are you going? You know
it’s his 75th.”
    “ I know. Yeah, I’m planning
to.” Then he remembered. “And Greg’s coming!”
    “ Really? How do you
know?”
    “ He called me today. And
that boy hasn’t stepped foot in Orange in—I don’t know