Sins and Needles Read Online Free PDF Page B

of her Arnold Palmer—half iced tea, half lemonade, an Antiquity Rose specialty.
    â€œOh, Moth- er !” said Jan again.
    â€œYou sound just like you did when you were fourteen,” Susan said, amused.
    â€œI do? I was imitating Ronnie.” Jan’s younger son was at a tiresome stage of teendom.
    Her mother raised her eyes to heaven. “It’s a mother’s hope come true: I often wished you’d have children who would give you the same grief you gave me.”
    â€œOh, Moth- er !”
    â€œIt’s never as funny the third time.”
    â€œYou’re right, you’re right,” sighed Jan. “It’s even less funny the twenty-fifth time.”
    Her mother cast her amused eyes heavenward again but didn’t say anything.
    â€œKatie thinks she’s after our money.”
    â€œWho’s after whose money?”
    â€œLucille, our Texas visitor. After Aunt Edyth’s. I think Lucille is not well off, and Kate thinks she might have heard about Aunt Edyth and decided to see if she could cut herself a piece of that pie.”
    Jan’s mother snorted. “I wish her luck trying. She’s not mine, and, thanks to DNA testing, people can’t play tricks like that anymore, no matter how much they look like a member of the family. With your medical training, you must know that.”
    â€œYes, I do.” Oddly, the thought made her a little sad.
    After lunch, Jan went across the street to the parking lot, a hollowed-out space in the center of the block, surrounded by the backsides of stores. She walked into the center and paused. As usual, she wasn’t sure just where she’d left her car. She finally spied it farther down a row than she thought she’d put it. It was a cranberry red PT Cruiser, an eminently spottable car, and she hurried to it. She put the key in the door lock, but it wouldn’t turn. Then she noticed the pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. She stepped back, hoping no one noticed her trying to get into someone else’s car and saw her own in the next row, about six cars nearer the lane that led out.
    â€œHi, Jan!” came a woman’s voice, her Texas accent making it sound like, “Hah, Jee-an!” She looked around and saw Lucille in a deep orange sunsuit waving at her. With Lucille was a tall, deeply tanned, attractive man with curly silver-and-black hair, and a very white grin.
    â€œHi, Lucille!” called Jan, waving back. She trotted toward the pair. “Having trouble finding my own car,” she noted as she came up to them.
    â€œThis is my husband, Bobby Lee. Bobby Lee, this is Jan Henderson, a fellow stitcher.”
    â€œHow do?” said Bobby Lee in a drawl even more marked than Lucille’s.
    Lucille said, “I saw you admiring my car. Are you thinking of buying a Cruiser? They’re super fun to drive, and”—she grinned—“they’re easy to find in a parking lot.”
    Jan turned to look again at the red car. “That PT is yours ?”
    â€œSure! Why?”
    â€œBecause that one right over there is mine.” Jan pointed at her own cranberry red vehicle, and the pair turned to look.
    Lucille exclaimed, “No, that’s too much, that’s way too much, that’s insane !”
    â€œWell, ain’t that a kick in the head,” said Bobby Lee. “Luci here has wanted one ever since she saw it on the Internet. And it had to be that color red, too.”
    â€œWhen I saw one on the Internet,” Jan said, “I thought it was a concept car, and I was so excited to find they were actually going to build them. This is my second one. My first one was black.”
    â€œDid you put a bullet hole in it?” asked Lucille.
    â€œA bullet hole?” echoed Jan, wondering if that was some strange Texas custom, for luck or something.
    â€œYou know, those decal things. I put just one, in the back passenger door, down in the