Rotten Apple Read Online Free PDF

more action than she was.
    “I don’t remember,” Apple said.
    “Well, you look good. Your eyebrows look all cleaned up,” her mother said. “They’re perfect!”
    “Hello? We were talking about
me”
Crazy Aunt Hazel interrupted, throwing up her arms. Apple noticed there was a hole in her shirt under her armpit. She really was a mess. “Apple,” she said, “one day you will learn that it’s impossible to find a good man. They all disguisetheir real personalities. They seem really nice and kind at first, and they treat you like a goddess. Then, after three weeks of bliss, the mask comes off. The mask
always
comes off. And you realize that they are commitment-phobic and that they’ll never say ‘I love you,’ and then they’ll tell you that they never promised you anything and that they need space,” Crazy Aunt Hazel ranted. She tilted her head back in despair. “He was probably cheating on me.”
    Apple knew what was coming. One did not complain to Dr. Bee Bee Berg about a relationship gone sour without getting a rant in return. It amazed Apple that, after all these years, her aunt still hadn’t learned this.
    “Hazel! That’s just not true,” her mother responded, just as Apple knew she would. “You can’t make sweeping generalizations like that about men. Not every man cheats. Many men do say ‘I love you.’ Not every man needs space. You just haven’t met the right man for you—your time will come. Patience is a virtue. Men are like dogs: they smell desperation. If you act positive, then positive things will come your way.”
    It annoyed Apple that her mother was always optimistic about love. She did kind of have to be, though. After all, it was her job. Although Apple couldn’t help but think that it would be kind of cool if one day her mother just went postal on
The Queen of Hearts
and shouted out to one of her guests, “Just give up on love, you pathetic loser!” Now
that
would be a show worth watching, Apple thought. She grabbed an egg roll and filled her plate with beef and broccoli.
    “That’s easy for you to say,” moaned Aunt Hazel, reaching into a carton of fried rice and taking it out with her hands.
    “Hazel! Can you at least use a fork?” her mother reprimanded her younger sister.
    After Hazel swallowed, she placed her head on the table as if she was going to take a nap. But she continued to speak. “You are already married. You have a job you love. You have a child. You have a home. You’re famous. Your life is just peachy keen. It’s the same way as it’s easy for rich people to say that money doesn’t buy happiness, because they
have
money. It’s easy for people who are married to say, ‘You’ll find someone.’”
    “You want to know what I think?” Apple’s mother asked. “I think you need to keep up your energy. Here, have some spare ribs.”
    “NO!” Aunt Hazel said forcefully. “I don’t want your advice. I don’t want spare ribs. I just want to moan. Can you just listen to me? Can’t I just moan?”
    “No, you can’t. And I’m going to give my advice to you anyway. It’s what I wrote in my book
Advice: It’s Easier to Give Than to Take
,” her mother began.
    “Yes, we know all about your best-selling book,” Aunt Hazel said, rolling her eyes at Apple. “Remember, Bee Bee? You gave me one when it was published, another for my birthday, another for Valentine’s Day, another for Christmas, and another when it went into reprints. I must own five copies of each of your books!”
    “And have you read any of them?” Apple’s mother demanded, hands on her hips.
    “No,” said Aunt Hazel, somewhat sheepishly. “I don’t like to read.”
    Apple couldn’t help but laugh. Dr. Bee Bee Berg, along with being the host of her popular talk show, had also written six best-selling self-help books. Apple was amazed that so many people bought them. If that were me, Apple thought, you’d bet I’d order them online. There would be no way I’d walk up to