What Looks Like Crazy Read Online Free PDF Page B

your schoolwork.”
    Trixie patted my hand. “You were a daddy’s girl, that’s for sure. Why, I don’t remember a parade when you weren’t riding next to him in a fire truck. The man seldom left this house without you straddling his shoulders.”
    â€œYou’re interrupting me, Trixie,” my mother said. “The point I’m trying to make is that Kate knew, even when she was nine and ten years old, how the department worked, and she attended more than one fireman’s funeral. She practically grew up with Jay, and it was his dream to go to college and study fire science and become a great fireman like his daddy and—” She stopped. “And your daddy,” she added, looking directly at me.
    â€œWhat are you trying to say, Mom?” But I already suspected.
    â€œYou knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to marry Jay.”
    That’s the thing about my mother. She doesn’t beat around the bush, and she’s about as diplomatic as Mona. Meaning she always tells me the truth, whether I want to hear it or not.
    Finally I shrugged. “So blame me, but I have no desire to white-knuckle it every time Jay races to a burning building. And I have no intention of becoming a widow before my time or raising a child without a father. Like you had to do,” I added.
    â€œYou had Uncle Bump,” she said.
    â€œRight. How could I forget?” Uncle Bump’s real name was Harry, and he used to drink. A lot. One night he got loaded and mouthed off to a biker named Fist. By the time the cops showed up, Uncle Harry had three cracked ribs, a couple of missing teeth, and a badly broken nose. The doctor could never get the nose to set straight, so Uncle Harry was forced to live with a small knot along the bridge, earning him the nickname “Bump.”
    You’d think Uncle Bump would have given up the booze after that, but I was forced to endure his bone-crunching bear hugs and Wild Turkey breath until I was twelve years old.
    Then he met and married my aunt Lou. She chain-smoked nonfiltered cigarettes and carried an ice pick in her purse. My mother credited Aunt Lou with putting Uncle Bump on the straight and narrow. She and Uncle Bump quickly produced a son named Lucien. Aunt Lou bought Lucien a BB gun when he was seven years old, and he became known as Lucifer to the neighbors.
    I did not want Lucifer to be the father figure in my children’s lives.
    â€œI just have one piece of advice,” my mother said. “No marriage is without its share of problems.”
    â€œI know that.” But Jay’s and my marriage had been pretty close to perfect. There’d been so much sex going on, we’d added Antonio’s Pizza Parlor to our speed dial, because nobody had time to cook. It took more than great sex to make a marriage, though. After a day of listening to everybody’s problems, I need some kind of order. And security. I’d had little of either growing up.
    Which was what I told Jay after his twenty-four-hour stint at the hospital where he’d been treated for a dislocated shoulder and a host of smaller injuries. I wanted him to take Uncle Bump’s offer to come in as a full partner in his security company.
    Jay stood his ground, even as I tossed my suitcases into the trunk of my car and slid behind the steering wheel that day.
    My mother and aunt quietly cleared the table and put the bucket of chicken in the refrigerator. When I looked up, they were smiling. Something told me they weren’t finished adding confusion to my life.
    â€œWe brought you a surprise,” my mother said, and motioned me to follow them outside to their truck.
    â€œIt’s not more furniture, is it?” I asked. “I don’t have room in my house for anything else.”
    â€œYou’ll see,” my mother sang out.
    They opened the tailgate and pulled out something that had been wrapped in old moving blankets. At