Listen To Your Heart Read Online Free PDF

husbands. I come from sturdy stock as they say. Oh my goodness, we didn’t discuss payment. Let me just write you a check as a deposit and then you can send me a bill for the rest. Will that be satisfactory?”
    â€œThis is our price list. You might want to look at it when you have time. Twenty percent is customary. We can work out the payment for the recipe later on. It’s been nice doing business with you,” Josie said, accepting the scribbled check. Her eyes widened. “This is too much, Mrs. Lobelia.”
    â€œIt’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just post it to my account. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
    â€œNot at all.”
    â€œWas your mother perfect? Was she a perfect mother? You know, one of those June Cleaver types.”
    Josie laughed. “I don’t think there’s any such thing as a perfect mother. But, to answer your question, no, she wasn’t perfect. She had flaws. She made mistakes. She knew how to apologize, and she gave the best hugs. That made up for everything because my sister and I knew she loved us.”
    â€œI guess that’s where it all went wrong,” Marie Lobelia murmured. “My son wanted a perfect mother. Call me, chère. My phone number is on the check. I can see my way out. You need a screen door, chère.”
    Josie laughed again. “It’s being repaired. It’s one of those old-fashioned wooden ones that squeak.”
    â€œThe best kind. I used to love hearing it slam when the children were little. Someone was always poking a hole in it. One day it would be new and the next day it would have a strip of adhesive tape over the hole and the little wires would poke through. I’m surprised I remember that. I do ramble. I’m sorry. It’s what happens when you get old. Senior moments.” She giggled and then took her leave.
    â€œWhoever your son is, Mrs. Lobelia, he’s a shit !” Josie muttered when she was alone. “Perfect mother my foot!”
    Josie leaned back in her swivel chair and closed her eyes. They snapped open so she could stare down at the check in the amount of $20,000. A good day’s work by any standard. She should go to the bank. Or she could go up to the house and look at the article in Gourmet Party magazine. On the other hand, she could do both. She could go to the bank and read the article.
    Josie tidied her desk, turned off her computer and the lights, her head filled with memories of when she and Kitty held tea parties and dance classes in these very rooms. How often she’d run here with Kitty when a punishment was something she didn’t think she could bear. Once she and Kitty had made curtains for the diamond-shaped windows. Just squares of brightly colored cloth held together with safety pins. They’d been so proud of those curtains. Now, crisp, crisscross organdy curtains hung on the shiny windows. There were no teddy bears and dolls with stretched-out, matted hair on the window seats. The soft, cuddly pillows perfect for holding against one’s chest were gone, too, replaced with custom-made flowered cushions.
    A red wagon, its wheels rusted, had sat next to a blue tri-cycle in the corner of the room. Stacks of building blocks, every color of the rainbow, nestled in discarded orange-mesh bags. She wondered what happened to the tin tea set with the violets painted in the center. Maybe her mother threw it out when the pieces started to rust around the edges.
    Memories. Mrs. Lobelia must have memories like hers. Sad memories. Sad memories she had to live with.
    Josie closed and locked the Dutch door, which matched the diamond-shaped panes in the front windows. She missed the screen door. She really had to sweep the porch. Just the thought of cleaning all the tiny white specks made her shudder. Maybe the leaf blower would be the answer. It would be something to do later after she went to the bank and after she read the article in the