Read Online 11 Whiskey Tango Foxtrot by Heather Long - Free Book Online

why the two of you can take an hour and go have a meal by yourselves and I’ll watch the baby. Now. Go.”
    She closed the door and Melody was left alone with the force of nature.
    “Um…Mrs. Anderson….”
    “Meredith. My children call me Momma, and you can when you’re comfortable, but for now let’s settle with Meredith. Joe will be a bit. His father has orders to keep him occupied.” The woman’s stern features relaxed, echoing the gentleness Melody already adored in Joe’s demeanor. “I wanted a chance to talk to you. Joe says you have no family here and you’ve got a little one. And before you get too worried, I know I’m a bit overbearing. It’s a part of my charm. You’ll learn to love that about me. Do you have time to sit down for some tea or coffee so we can chat?”
    So far beyond the wheelhouse of her own experience, Melody nodded. “I was folding clothes, but Libby’s napping.” She glanced at the playpen. Despite the chatter and the new voice, Libby hadn’t moved. Frowning, Melody stared until she caught the barely perceptible rise and fall of the tiny chest. The deep sleep was another symptom, but it could also be a result of the overstimulation from the day before. She could never be too careful.
    Meredith watched her quietly, her kind expression sober and intent. “Yeah, you been alone too long, baby. Come sit down and let Momma make you some tea and we’ll talk.”
    “I don’t have any tea.” She didn’t have much of anything.
    “I brought my own. Never travel without it.” She bustled Melody over to the table, sat her down, then busied herself in the kitchen.
    Embarrassment crept through her. The kitchen was clean, as were the dishes, but the barren cupboards and the desolate refrigerator didn’t offer many prospects. Meredith didn’t slow down. Putting her purse on the counter and coat on the chair, she set up two mugs with tea bags and filled the kettle.
    After setting the pot on the stove, she pointed a finger at Melody. “You stay right there. I’ll be back in a moment.”
    Without waiting for a protest, she slipped out and Melody could almost imagine her marching next door. His mother would likely give him an earful about strays and pathetic homemakers who couldn’t even keep fresh milk in the house. She tried to formulate an apology, but Meredith blew back inside with a small box of sugar, a carton of milk, some bread and lunch meat. She started to stand up, but the woman gave her a firm look.
    “Sit.”
    She sat.
    “Mrs. Anderson….”
    “Honey, we’ll be much better friends if you just call me Meredith, and I told you, I know I’m overbearing and pushy. But you look hungry and I don’t believe anyone should go hungry.”
    She wanted to protest, but the meat turned out to be honey-baked ham and at the first whiff, her stomach gurgled. Joe’s mother grinned and prepared sandwiches. Apparently she’d stolen Joe’s mayonnaise, cheese, tomatoes, and lettuce, too. The generous sandwiches smelled delicious. In a few minutes she had a plate in front of her along with a steaming cup of tea, and the milk and sugar at the ready. Taking the chair opposite Melody’s, she nodded toward the food.
    “I really don’t know what to say, Mrs…Meredith.” All good manners seemed to have failed her.
    “Then eat and let me talk. I’ll say my piece and when I’m done you can say, ‘thank you, Meredith, but I’m okay,’ and I’ll leave you be.”
    The words filled Melody with trepidation and her stomach cramped.
    “Honey, you don’t need to be afraid of me. I promise. I don’t bite. I just want to tell you a story, okay?”
    Nodding, Melody reached for the sugar and added a single teaspoon of it along with a splash of milk to the tea and stirred it slowly. Meredith nodded with approval and doctored hers.
    “My sister, God rest her soul, was a good woman. She was loyal to a fault. The kind of woman you could rely on to take anything life threw at her—even when the