Stiffs and Swine Read Online Free PDF Page B

One of her hands held a glass coffee carafe while the other was frozen in time, placing several paper napkins next to a plate bearing a tall stack of flapjacks.
    James studied the painting a few moments longer, marveling over how Jackson had cleverly manipulated shades of blue and yellow in order to create a feeling of movement in his piece. The two colors, highlighted by touches of black or white, were filled with wonderful contrasts of light and shadow.
    Look out, Norman Rockwell, here comes Jackson Henry , James thought, and he was once again awestruck by his father’s God-given talent.
    “It’s fantastic, Pop,” James said when he re-entered the kitchen. “What diner did you go to? I mean … when did you have the chance to study those people and their hands?”
    Jackson smirked and tapped his temple. “It’s all right up here, boy. That’s an old memory.” He buttered a piece of bread on both sides and took a bite. “Shoot. That diner’s long gone now. I heard it’s some kind of spa. You can pay a hundred bucks to have someone slop mud on your bare ass.” He chortled. “I’d toss some of ’em in a pigsty for half the price!”
    James admired Milla’s beautifully arranged platter of veal cutlets in silent reverence as she chattered away. She brought dish after dish to the table, setting things just so, while Jackson kept his eyes fastened on his son.
    As Milla searched in the fridge for some Parmesan cheese, Jackson dumped a heaping spoonful of tortellini on his plate and, finally blinking, said, “All things change, son.”
    Not knowing what to make of his father’s cryptic statement, James ignored it, relished every bite of Milla’s dinner, and then excused himself. He wanted to call Murphy from the privacy of his room and ask her out for a dinner date. She cheerfully accepted, and James was certain she was pleased that he seemed interested in keeping their relationship on track despite their rocky weekend at the beach. They small-talked about their day for a bit and then James asked Murphy if she would run an ad on behalf of the library in order to raise funds for the bookmobile.
    “I don’t think I can, James,” Murphy surprised him by answering. “People know we’re dating. If I give you the ad pro bono, they’ll think you’re getting special treatment.”
    “But it’s for the library, not me,” he protested.
    Murphy sighed. “I know, but it’s all about perceptions.”
    James felt his ire rise. “And who is the they that will perceive that I’ve been granted favors?”
    “Other local governmental agencies, charitable organizations, et cetera. The Star has pretty extensive coverage in our county, you know.” Murphy’s voice grew tense. “Don’t get angry. I’m just trying to separate my personal and professional lives.”
    “You didn’t seem to care about them blending when you wrote that piece on activities for couples visiting Virginia Beach,” James argued.
    “Oh, please ,” Murphy huffed. “I didn’t mention us !”
    “That’s true,” James argued unkindly, “because you left out the part about dragging your partner around until his feet bled when all he wanted to do was relax!”
    Murphy was silent and James instantly regretted having picked a fight. His intention had been to smooth things over with her, not to dredge up fresh doubts about their relationship.
    “I’ve got to go, James. I’ve got a deadline,” Murphy said tersely and hung up.
    James flounced back onto his bed and covered his eyes with his hands. As darkness fell outside his window, he thought about what his father had said at dinner. “All things change.”
    They sure do, James thought miserably. And I hate change .

A few days later, James and Murphy spoke to one another with stiff politeness over dinner at Blue’s Barbecue House less than a week before James was meant to leave for Hudsonville. Most of their conversation centered on work, and while James agonized over the broken bookmobile