Boy Who Shoots Crows (9781101552797) (2011)
Boy Who Shoots Crows (9781101552797)
“She was glad to see only one vehicle already parked there, a tired-looking Datsun hatchback at least a dozen years old. Somebody had painted the whole contraption sage green, even the naked rims. Both rear fenders were banged in, and there was a long crack in the windshield. Denny Rankin, she knew, drove a small, red pickup truck. So that’s Livvie’s car, she thought.
I should buy her a car, she told herself. Have it delivered with a note: From a friend. But how to keep it from her husband? That... would be a problem.
She shut off the Jeep, lifted the Ovenware dish with its hot pad off the seat, and held it atop her lap. The trailer looked unoccupied, even abandoned. All the curtains were drawn. No gleam of light behind them. No whisper of music or drone of television in the air. Charlotte sat there in the Jeep with the dish of braciola in her lap, felt her stomach turn over at the scent of baked sauce, and hoped that Livvie was not at home.
Two minutes later, Charlotte changed her mind, decided to go home, toss the braciola in the trash.MoreLess
I should buy her a car, she told herself. Have it delivered with a note: From a friend. But how to keep it from her husband? That... would be a problem.
She shut off the Jeep, lifted the Ovenware dish with its hot pad off the seat, and held it atop her lap. The trailer looked unoccupied, even abandoned. All the curtains were drawn. No gleam of light behind them. No whisper of music or drone of television in the air. Charlotte sat there in the Jeep with the dish of braciola in her lap, felt her stomach turn over at the scent of baked sauce, and hoped that Livvie was not at home.
Two minutes later, Charlotte changed her mind, decided to go home, toss the braciola in the trash.MoreLess
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