Hot Springs Read Online Free PDF Page B

Hardings might have done in terms of putting out the word, but it wasn’t like they didn’t know her face. She tried to remember if they had any photographs around the house with her in them. She didn’t think so. But there were police artists who could draw you from descriptions. People got caught that way all the time.
    “What kind of ice cream is your favorite?” she asked.
    Emily stared at the big freezer doors. “Green,” she said.

    “Honey, there is no such thing as green ice cream. We could have chocolate or vanilla, or Chubby Hubby, or just about anything. Green would be lime, and that wouldn’t be a good flavor for ice cream. Sherbet, maybe. Is that what you’re thinking of?” Bernice opened the freezer and reached in. “Except I don’t like sherbet. Fudge ripple?”
    Emily pointed to the shelf below.
    Bernice picked up a plain-looking carton with old fashioned writing on it. “Pistachio,” she said. “You can read that? What else can you do? Wow.” She put the carton in the basket she wore over her arm. They made their way back to Health and Beauty, and she picked through the various hair products. “What do you like? Red? Auburn? You like my color? Blonde?”
    “Uh-huh,” said Emily. She had a bit of a runny nose starting up, and Bernice put down the basket, dug a tissue out of her pocket, and mopped it for her.
    “We’re going to turn you auburn. It’s a great color. I had nothing but fun when I was auburn.” She looked up and down the aisle, but they were alone.
    “I think I like my hair the way it is,” said Emily.
    “I know you do.” Bernice touched her hair, enjoying how thick it was. She imagined Tessa Harding doing this same thing. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to miss so much of Emily’s life, but while she could not unmake the past, or ever really alleviate her guilt, she could still maintain some purchase on the future. She straightened the visor, which was falling down over the child’s eyes. “We need to make you look different.”
    “Why?”
    “Because people are going to be trying to find you.”
    Emily coughed, a tiny, abrupt sound.
    “I mean, maybe. Don’t worry about it. OK, let’s get out of this ice-house.” Bernice took her hand and they made their way to the front, where
only two registers out of ten were open. They stood behind a woman who was buying three cases of store-brand cola and four bags of cat litter.
    “Well, hello,” said the woman, looking down at Emily and ignoring Bernice entirely. “Aren’t you a lovely child? Would you like a soda?” She was pear-shaped, in a violet tracksuit, and had a nose that seemed too small for the rest of her face. Her sandals were gold, and her nails were painted a vivid shade of red. Tough Tucson toenails. Bernice imagined those toenails plowing their way through thick pile carpet in a hideous house with a private pool and a TV in every room.
    “No,” said Emily. “I wouldn’t.”
    “You tell her,” said Bernice.
    “I guess politeness is no longer something that gets taught to children,” said the woman, looking at Bernice like her head was smoking.
    “I guess some people don’t know when to mind their own business,” said Bernice. “What makes you think she’d want a cheap, warm soda? We have drinks at home.”
    “I’m sure you do,” the woman said, eyeing the bottle in Bernice’s basket. She turned away and began lugging her colas up onto the belt.
    “I don’t want my hair dyed,” said Emily. “I like it how it is.”
    Oh, Christ, Bernice thought, here it comes. Sure enough, the woman turned around again. “You’re not dyeing that child’s hair, are you?”
    “Not this minute.”
    “But you are later?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Then what? Will you get her a tattoo?”
    “If she wants one, she can have one. She can have two.”
    “That’s criminal,” said the woman. “Putting chemicals on a little girl’s head.”
    “Hey, how’d you like one of those cans shoved up