Sweet Water Read Online Free PDF Page A

she met him. Her innate good sense finally overcame paralyzing shock. “Well if you don’t know what to say, I do. I think the word is good-bye.”
    His eyes locked on hers with an anguished expression. “Marisa—”
    She stopped him by raising her palm and turning her head. “Don’t Marisa me. You’re right. There’s nothing more to say.” She spun on her heel, intending to walk away from the counter, needing to remove him from her sight before she sank into a hair-tearing, chest-beating fit.
    “Marisa, I don’t want to lose our...our friendship.”
    His voice, soft and deep, halted her. God, the afternoons and nights she had lain in bed and listened to that voice speaking of the future, of feelings, whispering lusty intentions in her ear.
    He stood up. “I--I need our friendship, Marisa. It means a lot to me. I thought we could—”
    She leveled a glare of incredulity at him. “No! The answer is no. Get out of my sight, Woody.”
    Before her former lover could reply, the front door chimed again and a couple strolled in. Unmistakable tourists--tanned older man wearing a polo shirt, cargo shorts and deck shoes, tanned older woman in Bermuda shorts, a tank top and Keds. They stopped and looked at a display Marisa had created from some 1940s cooking utensils. She walked away from Woody and struck up a conversation with the total strangers about where they had come from and where they were going.
    Woody   soon   walked   out,   setting on his hat and throwing a “be seeing you,” over his shoulder. Marisa ignored him.
    The couple, JimandMariefromOhio, on their way to Roswell to visit the UFO museum, sauntered to the lunch counter as if they had nothing to do but kill time. Inwardly, Marisa sighed.
    As they took a seat and plucked the yellow laminated menu from between the napkin holder and the salt and pepper shakers, Marisa glanced at Woody’s mug on the counter. He had left a dollar beside it. She charged $1.25 for a cup of regular coffee and he knew it. Bastard.
    She caught a breath to halt her tears and stuffed the dollar into her pocket, then carried the mug to the kitchen and set it in the sink with a sharp clunk. She opened the oven door and found the bread pudding overcooked and curdled. Shit. She pulled it from the oven and set it in the sink, also, to be flushed down the garbage disposal after it cooled. Drawing a deep breath, she returned to the lunch counter and gave her undivided attention to JimandMariefromOhio.
    The retired couple put their heads together and decided to try the homemade chicken salad sandwich. Marisa had poached the chicken herself in a mixture of white wine and herbs, then shredded it and added white grapes and pecans to the traditional ingredients, along with her special dressing. It was her own recipe and, like most customers who tried it, JimandMarie thought it delicious. They stayed and talked for more than an hour, for which she was grateful. If they hadn’t been present to keep her mind and mouth busy, she might have broken down.
    As they left, the locomotive clock began to chug and   whistle. She locked the front door, hung up the CLOSED sign and   tramped back to the singlewide, wishing for a girlfriend who would lend a dry shoulder. But besides herself and Mama, only one other female resided in Agua Dulce. Tanya Shepherd ran a beauty salon and gift shop in the space next door to Pecos Belle’s. Unfortunately, Tanya was out of town.
     
    Chapter 4
    When Marisa reached the trailer, Mama was waiting for her, wearing her walking shoes and sitting primly in a chair at the dining table. Her blue eyes glinted with life. Her voice sounded stronger as she described something funny she had seen on TV and she laughed at the appropriate time. Her mind seemed clearer than it had been earlier.
    Mama’s illness was such a puzzle. Sometimes she would be so lucid Marisa and she could have an almost normal conversation. Marisa often thought that if she could just recognize the