From Bad to Wurst Read Online Free PDF

“You don’t need to be dividin’ your attention between me and her, so I’m givin’ you my blessin’ to ditch me so’s you can focus on her. She’s the one what needs you right now.”
    Mom beamed with gratitude. “That’s so unselfish of you, Mother.”
    â€œYou bet. It’d be downright criminal for me to hog all the attention. I’m fine. Emily’s not. Just lookit how peaked she looks.”
    Mom peered into my face, her head bobbing in agreement. “Your grandmother’s right, Emily. Under all your scabs, you do look peaked.”
    â€œThat’s because they scrubbed all my makeup off at the hospital! I always look like this without foundation and blush.”
    â€œIt’s all settled then.” Mom launched herself at me again, all arms and hugs and smothering kisses. “You have nothing to worry about from now on, Emily. Your mother’s going to take good care of you.”
    I fired an evil look at Nana, prompting her to slink away like the faithful dog who’d made an ill-advised feast of the new sofa cushions, the family bird, and everyone’s homework. I was her favorite granddaughter—her only granddaughter. How could she do this to me?
    â€œCan I have your attention, folks?” Wally’s voice silenced the chatter. “Now that we’ve had a chance to see for ourselves that Emily is okay, we need to address another issue. Our musicians are grieving the loss of one of their colleagues, so I’d like to have a group meeting to discuss what happens next. They might not feel up to keeping their performance schedule without Ms. Peterson, so we may have to consider changing our itinerary. Let’s get it all on the table, though. They’re waiting for us in the Prince Ludwig room.” He motioned to a corridor that angled around the front desk to the right. “I won’t keep you long, but I’d appreciate your extending a few words of sympathy to the other guests. Ms. Peterson was apparently an all-round nice person, well liked by everyone, so they’re taking her death really hard.”
    They followed behind Wally without jockeying for position or cutting each other off, which made me question why they couldn’t do that all the time. Mom locked her hand around my arm, excitement oozing from her every pore as she burdened herself with my well-being. “Can you manage baby steps, sweetheart, or should I request a wheelchair?”
    â€œIf you’ll allow me, Margaret.” Etienne laid claim to my other arm. “I’ll be happy to relieve you of duty for the rest of the day.”
    â€œNosiree,” said Mom, tightening her grip. “When I make a commitment, I follow through.”
    â€œI insist.” He smiled, favoring her with a dose of Old World charm that affected the average woman like catnip affects cats.
    â€œNonsense. We’re good. Aren’t we, Em?”
    Mom had apparently developed an immunity to Old World charm.
    â€œI suspect Wally could make good use of your people skills in the Prince Ludwig room, Margaret.” Etienne gave my arm a gentle tug in his direction.
    Mom tugged me back toward her. “You’re much more diplomatic than I am—you go. I’ll stay with Emily.”
    â€œYou have a better touch with grief-stricken people, Margaret.” Right, toward Etienne.
    â€œNo, I don’t.” Left, toward Mom.
    Feeling like the proverbial wishbone from the Thanksgiving Day turkey, I decided to end the tug of war before someone yelled, “Close your eyes and make a wish.”
    Or was I confusing wishbones with birthday candles?
    Uh-oh. Maybe my brain was more addled than the CT scan had indicated.
    â€œEnough already!” I said, wrenching my arms free. “Geesh.” I glanced from one to the other. “Trust me. I’m not unappreciative, but there’s gotta be a better way. Can we compromise? Like, say,