Keep Calm and Kill Your Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

months seems like a long time to me, but I guess when it’s right, it’s right.”
    If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know, immediately jumped into Bob’s head but instead he said, “Absolutely.”
    Bob smiled and she smiled back. He had so much work to do but didn’t want the conversation to end.
    “So what’s the deal with this cabin?” he asked. “Is it haunted or something?”
    “I was just never that crazy about it. My cousin Brandy always loved it and my grandma should have probably left it to her to tell you the truth. I guessed she felt sorry for me because I had just lost my parents. Honestly I haven’t been there in twenty years. It just kind of gives me the creeps. My Uncle Frank died there.”
    Bob cocked his head, curious.
    “It was kind of weird. A tree limb just spontaneously dropped. I think it was an oak. It hit him in the head and he died. Anyway, it’s not that. I’m just not that crazy about the woods. You know, wild animals and all that.”
    Bob smiled at her. God she was cute.
    “I guess I’m just being silly, huh?”
    Bob shook his head. “I think you’re the bravest woman that ever lived.”
    Summer laughed. “You’re crazy.”
    He smiled again and patted her hand. And then she screamed.
    Bob pulled his hand back, looking stunned. “What?”
    Summer put both hands over her mouth, stifling her own outburst. Then she pointed to the corner of her desk and whispered, “A spider.”
    Bob grinned, shaking his head. “Do yourself a favor and pick a new vacation spot.”

EIGHT
    “I GOT THE PERFECT SPOT.” Hart was unsuccessfully suppressing a smile. He figured Brandy wouldn’t be too wild about it but didn’t particularly care. It was his idea. He was taking all the risks. He would be the one actually doing it. Besides, he decided, doing something as big as this did require some dramatic flair, and he wasn’t going to apologize for it either. Being mundane went against who he was.
    Even in school when a teacher would go around the room and have everyone introduce himself, Hart couldn’t stand the idea of simply stating his name and who his last English teacher was. He had to come up with something funny. Something memorable, creative. Not just be like everybody else.
    Brandy finished her sip of Coke and put the can back down on her kitchen table. She felt skeptical, but anxious to hear what Hart had come up with.
    “You mean you don’t want to do it in the woods anymore?” she said.
    “I mean the perfect spot in the woods,” he answered.
    Brandy put her elbow on the table, faced her open hand straight up and glided her chin into her waiting palm. “Well I hope your plan doesn’t require you to twirl your mustache between your fingers as the audience hisses and pelts you with tomatoes.”
    “No audience, wise guy. So, I was looking at this map of Granny’s property that you drew up for me.” He pulled the map out of his front pocket and unfolded it. “It’s a nice spread. How many acres did you say it was?”
    “A few hundred.”
    Hart nodded. “Good. Now what really caught my eye was this.” Hart pointed to the map as Brandy leaned in. “This footbridge. How long is it?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Would you say it’s like the distance between first and second base on a baseball field?”
    Brandy started to feel impatient but forced herself to relax. This was Hart we were talking about and this whole thing was going to unfold in his own way in his own time. Experience had taught her that. “I guess about that. What, a hundred feet?”
    “And how far down? Below the bridge, I mean.”
    “Five hundred, sixty-three feet,” she said.
    “Are you serious? Five hundred, sixty-three feet? You know it exactly?”
    “Yeah, I do. My Uncle Frank measured it when I was a kid. It was a big deal in our family. He climbed down the gorge, camped for a night and climbed back up the next day.”
    “It only took a day to climb back up?”
    Brandy nodded. “I