The Thread That Binds the Bones
“said Tom. The kitchen smelted of coffee. A drip pot sat, half full, over a low flame on the stove.“Welcome back,” Bert said. “Does a straight beat a flush?”“I’d have to look it up. Laura, this is Bert and Trixie—Maggie you met this morning. Trixie offered us a guest room, since my place isn’t big enough.”Laura smiled. “Hi,” she said, then lost her smile in confusion. “Did she—did you—?” She eased out of Tom’s arms and walked to the kitchen table. “Bert? I know I’ve seen you before, and”—she turned to Trixie—“aren’t you the lady from Tyke’s Pharmacy? Mrs. Delarue?”“Call me Trixie, dear. I sold the pharmacy when my husband died, five years ago. I work part time at Bert’s Taxis now. May I call you Laura?”“Oh, yes, please. Mrs.—Trixie? Is it really all right for us to stay here?”“Sure.”After a brief hesitation, Laura asked in a very small voice, “Did Tom put a binding on you?”“What’d I tell you, Tommy? Nothing’s normal for these people,”
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