Gluten for Punishment Read Online Free PDF Page B

to get lost. He stacked more slices of pumpkin bread on his
     plate. “I mean, lots of people know about her disease.” He turned his laser green
     gaze on me. “Did you tell the chief this could harm your health?”
    “He agreed it was a simple prank,” I said impatiently.
    “It won’t be a simple prank if you end up in the hospital.” Grandma Ruth nodded. She
     went into a coughing fit and Bill thwacked her on the back a couple of times. She
     recovered and choked out, “Thanks.”
    “You’re most welcome.” Bill went back to scarfing dessert.
    I tilted my head. “Grandma, why weren’t you at the ribbon cutting this morning?” I
     raised an eyebrow. Not that anyone could tell. Unlike Grandma, my hair was light enough
     you could barely see the red. Mostly it left a curly, frizzy mass of red-gold like
     a halo around my head. And my eyebrows had to be drawn in when I put on makeup. Grandma
     Ruth used to call me “the Golden Gollywog.”
    “Grandma?”
    She hung her head slightly and played with the paper. “I had a Scrabble match.”
    “She’s in the state semifinals,” Bill said proudly.
    “Grandma, it was my grand opening. You knew I needed all the help I could get. It’s
     what a big family’s for. . . .”
    Grandma put down her plate and coffee mug. She took a moment to scratch her chin.
     Her nails against the five o’clock shadow sounded like sandpaper. For as long as I
     could remember, Grandma Ruth shaved her chin with an electric razor and cackled the
     whole time. With a happy glint in her eye, she would tell us kids that she bet we’d
     never seen that before.
    I sighed internally. “What?”
    “You know I love you, kiddo, right?”
    Okay, I’d Play along. “Yes, I know you love me.”
    “And you know I’ll always be there for you . . .”
    “Grandma—”
    “She hates Lois Striker with a passion,” Bill interjected. He drained his coffee cup
     and set the empty dishes on the now empty trays. “Everybody knows it.”
    “The woman is a nosy busybody.” Grandma stood, brushing the crumbs off her and onto
     the floor. “And worse, she spits.”
    “Oh, Grandma, you should have brought Bill to run interference for you.”
    “I had a rush job come in this morning.” Bill stood and got Grandma’s hat for her.
     “Avery Stuart’s favorite cat died last night. He needed her stuffed for the memorial
     at the senior center on Friday. Which reminds me, I gave him your number. There are
     a lot of us old farts with special dietary needs.” Bill patted his wide stomach. “Your
     gluten-free desserts would really help with the mourning process.”
    “Sure.” I got up. Bill was a taxidermist. He and Grandma Ruth had met in art class
     in the early 1980s. In her mind, he was a sculptor who used skin and bones to create
     his vision. The thought made me shudder, but I suppressed it and plastered a wide
     smile on my face. “I’ll make a note to send Avery a sympathy card.”
    I walked them to the front door.
    “Want to know the best part?” Bill’s eyes twinkled.
    I kept my best poker face on. “Sure?”
    “The cat was completely black with green eyes. It’ll be perfect for the center’s Halloween
     party at the end of the month. Avery picked the high-backed hissing pose. He said
     it most reminded him of her.”
    I swallowed and tried to think of something to say, but my mind had gone blank.
    “I tell you what, kiddo.” Grandma patted me on the arm as they stepped onto the porch.
     “I’ll get a list of everyone who was at your coffee from Pete. He owes me. Then Bill
     and I’ll see what we can find out. Seniors stick together. Maybe they’ll tell us something
     they wouldn’t tell Chief Blaylock.”
    “Hey, Ruthie, you can write a blog on this,” Bill said. “I’m sure it’ll get people
     talking. You know how much they loved your column before Smith retired you.”
    Grandma lit a cigarette, held it in one hand, and smacked Bill on the arm with the