The Book of Eleanor Read Online Free PDF Page A

about? Are you still going to do Sassy Suzy?” she asked.
    “Oh, yes, of course I will.” I felt a sudden lurch of alarm. How could I talk about this, about Mary, so soon? Though I lived my life as an openly lesbian cartoonist, I was always a little hesitant to tell strangers anything about my personal life. I decided now was as good a time as any to talk to Maddy.
     “My partner, Mary, died a few months ago, and she left me a large collection of books.” I said finally, hoping my pain remained hidden. “And I don’t really want to sell them, so it’s not really a bookstore. It’s more of a reading room, coffee shop-type place.”
    Maddy grunted slightly. Her eyes widened. “Ah, I see, and it’s a good idea. I am so sorry for your loss, though.”
    “Thank you,” I said.
    I saw the questions forming. People always wanted to know how she died—assuming, by my young age, that it was cancer or perhaps a car accident. I had no easy answers I wanted to share so, turning my attention back to the kitchen, I effectively dismissed her interest and forestalled any further queries.
    “Wow, would you look at this,” I said, peering through the large window over the sink. I pulled open the kitchen door, which led onto a wide, square deck with a private dock that stretched a good half mile into the bay. It was a breathtaking scene, and I suddenly, completely understood the high listing price of the mostly nondescript property.
    “Isn’t it wonderful?” Maddy sighed next to me. “I remember when Ruetta built this place. Her husband, Elizondo, was in a wheelchair by then, and she used to bring him out here while she minded the shop. All of his retired buddies would stop by and visit with him, and there’d be a regular pachanga going on back here.”
    “ Pachanga ?”
    She laughed and explained. “South Texas barbeque party. Huge.”
    The bay appeared calm, but that was just an illusion. Hundreds of birds, pelicans, and gulls mostly, moved busily about the raised dock feeding and basking in the fierce sunlight. The rocky shoreline teemed with smaller birds. Beneath the boards of the dock, dunlins and egrets chased after hermit crabs and large, glossy water gliders. From everywhere came the sounds of birds calling directions to one another, waves slapping the sand and rocks with gleeful abandon, and the wind baying mournfully through the deck railings.
    “Oh, my heavens,” I muttered. “You said waterfront but I had no idea. I’ll never get any work done.”
    Maddy laughed at my dilemma. “Right enough. When Ernest and I used to come here from the north as Winter Texans, I always brought some project I thought I’d get done during the winter, like needlepoint or quilting. I’ve got to admit though, I’d spend days just watching the water and in March, back home I’d go, that unfinished project going right back with me.”
    “I sure hope that doesn’t really happen to me,” I said, leading the way back to the kitchen and firmly closing the door.
    “You’ll be living here, like we do now,” Maddy counseled. “You do sort of get used to it after a while.”
    “Oh, so you live here full time now. I should have guessed since you’re working here.”
    We moved into the relative dimness of the living room. Maddy indicated that I should take a seat on the sofa.
    “I do, and I certainly get more done these days after living in Port Isabel for the past three years. And speaking of getting things done, let’s get this last bit of paperwork out of the way so you can get on with moving yourself and settling in. When is the truck coming?”
    She handed me the clipboard, and I began signing the viewing papers. I’d signed and had notarized the sale papers a month or so ago, but these papers had to do with Maddy’s real estate company. “The books will be here in about three hours. I sold everything else.”
    “Everything?”
    I heard the disbelief in her voice. “Pretty much. There’s a new bed on the truck,