Hit & Mrs. Read Online Free PDF

faces sat on Summer’s bed.
    Gemma took a deep breath. “Do you girls love your mother?”
    â€œWhat kind of silly question is that?” Summer asked.
    â€œIt’s a simple one. Do you or don’t you?”
    â€œOf course we do.”
    Raine nodded in agreement.
    â€œWell, from where I’m standing, it sure doesn’t seem like it.”
    â€œLook, this is none of your business. You have no right to come in here and tell us what to do.”
    Gemma took a step closer and pointed her finger at Summer. “I have every right. I’ve been your mother’s friend for forty years. I love her and I care what happens to her. She used to be a happy person. She laughed all the time, full of joy and wonderment. She loved to paint and create things. I’ve always wanted to be like her.”
    They were silent.
    â€œBut not now. Now she’s a scared little woman who worries all the time. And you’ve made her that way.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous.”
    â€œIs it? Were you happy for her when you heard she had the chance to go to New York with her best friends? Did you make her feel good about it?”
    Summer’s face grew dark. Raine’s eyes filled with tears.
    â€œFor three years, she’s stayed by your side. She wanted to have four days to herself. Four. How long will you keep her a prisoner here?
    How long are you going to make her pay for your father’s death? You two weren’t the only ones who lost someone that horrible day. She lost her lover and her best friend. They were so in love they couldn’t see straight. All of us wanted what she had with your father. Believe it or not, as much as you miss him, she misses him a thousand times more.”
    Augusta’s daughters burst into tears. It was awkward. Gemma passed them a box of Kleenex. “Now go downstairs and tell your mama to have a wonderful time in New York.”
    For once, they didn’t argue with her.

CHAPTER THREE
    Bette gave up. It seemed her parents were determined to extract their pound of flesh before she left for New York. So be it.
    â€œYou need to go to Epstein’s Pharmacy and renew all these prescriptions.” Her mother wheeled toward Bette with a lapful of pill bottles.
    â€œAre you kidding? There have to be forty containers here. How old are these?”
    Ida shrugged. “You want I should keel over on the floor when you’re gone? You’d deny a dying woman her pills?” She clapped her hands together in prayer and shook them. “Oy, the pain, the shame of it. A daughter who pushes her mother down the stairs the first chance she gets.”
    â€œFirst I deny you pills and then I push you down the stairs. You should be on Broadway, Ma. Why don’t you come with me and audition for Neil Simon?”
    Ida stopped with the hands and her eyes widened. “I can come with you?”
    Bette opened the fridge door to take out the cream cheese for her morning bagel.
    â€œYou know when you can come to New York with me? When pigs fly.”
    Izzy walked in the kitchen. “You hear that, Ida? You better grow some feathers.”
    â€œThis from a man who can’t close his own fly or his big yap.”
    Bette slammed the fridge door. “Will you two knock it off? Why can’t you be happy for me? Is that too much to ask? I’m having a little holiday. When was the last time that happened?”
    â€œHoliday,” her father said. “In my day, no one had a holiday. We worked, seven days a week, eighteen hours a day. You sit on your bum downstairs and hand people bread. For this, you should have a vacation?”
    Bette pointed her finger at them. “I don’t need a vacation from work. I need a vacation from you two.”
    Ida pursed her lips. “Fine. Go. When you come back to find our carcasses on the floor, you’ll be sorry.”
    Her father lit a cigarette and took a big drag. “When you pick us up off