Read Online A Little Ray of Sunshine by Lani Diane Rich - Free Book Online
Authors: Lani Diane Rich
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James?”
I forced my smile. “I am. But you can call me EJ. I go by EJ.”
Red looked up. “So, your last name isn’t Lorraine?”
“No,” I said. “My father was a director. His name was Simon James. He left when I was two. And even if I didn’t take my father’s name, my name still wouldn’t be Lorraine, since my mother’s real name is Wilhelmina Gwartney.”
Dead silence as three sets of mommy eyes stared me down, blinking in disbelief or surprise or just sheer exhaustion from being mommies. I was stuck. There was no getting out of this without significant sharing.
So, I shared.
“Since my father moved to Spain to get away from her, my mother has remarried six times. Six times. Now you tell me, what kind of woman needs to get married seven times before she realizes she’s not good at it? I mean, shouldn’t the first three or four times be a solid clue? I only had to kill one hamster before I realized that rodents were not my thing.”
Braids and Red exchanged a glance, then looked back at me and made awkward noises of reassurance.
“Anyway,” I went on, “she’s about to snare number eight in Oregon. I’m not going to the wedding, because I don’t speak to my mother, because she kind of ruined my life. I live by myself in an Airstream trailer, and at the moment, my closest friend is a woman who thinks she’s an angel, and who is forcing me to ply you with the deadliest food known to man. Now, I’d really appreciate it if you all would smile and wave at me as I leave as though we’ve had some kind of pleasant interaction here. Can you do that for me?” I clasped my hands in front of my heart in a gesture of total supplication. “ Please ?”
Spit-up was the first to smile. “Sure. You bet.”
She reached in the bag and handed a McGriddle to Braids, who stared at it dubiously, then smiled at me.
“My mother was a piece of work, too.” She opened up a McGriddle and took a bite, then said, loudly, “Thanks so much!”
I smiled, mouthed “Thank you,” and turned to walk back to Jess, the cheers of the Harried Moms ushering me on my way.
***
Dedication:
To all my fans, who have been so faithful and loving to me, giving me strength when I felt weak, and making me laugh when I needed cheering. You all have meant so much to me through the years; you have kept me going.
And to Emmy.
—from Twinkie and Me: The Real Life Confessions of Lilly Lorraine
Five
“EJ?”
I opened my eyes. In the dim shaft of rest area light that came through the curtains, I could see only the faintest detail of the Airstream’s ceiling. “What?”
The twin bunk squeaked as Jess shifted in her bed. “You should read the letter.”
I closed my eyes. “What letter?”
“The letter Digs gave me. The one I gave you at the diner.”
“I told you,” I said. “I read it. It was just a joke. Good night.”
“If it was important enough for Digs to bring all the way from Oregon, then it’s important enough for you to read.”
How did she always know when I was lying? That was getting really annoying. I sighed and pushed myself up on my elbows. “It’s the middle of the night, Jess. I’ll read it in the morning, okay?”
More noise, and then Jess stepped into the dim shaft of light coming through the curtains and sat at the dinette table. “We’re less than fifty miles from Colorado Springs. Tomorrow, you’re going to be rushing to get me on a plane. Now’s your last chance. You have to read it now.”
“I don’t want to read it now.”
“You have to. I’m thinking about it so much I can’t sleep, which means the Universe thinks it’s important. You have to read it now.”
I sighed and sat up in bed. “We need to discuss your deluded relationship with the Universe.”
“Do you really want to point fingers about delusions?” she asked.
I glanced up at her. She stood with her arms crossed over her stomach looking fairly threatening, the pink camisole and
I forced my smile. “I am. But you can call me EJ. I go by EJ.”
Red looked up. “So, your last name isn’t Lorraine?”
“No,” I said. “My father was a director. His name was Simon James. He left when I was two. And even if I didn’t take my father’s name, my name still wouldn’t be Lorraine, since my mother’s real name is Wilhelmina Gwartney.”
Dead silence as three sets of mommy eyes stared me down, blinking in disbelief or surprise or just sheer exhaustion from being mommies. I was stuck. There was no getting out of this without significant sharing.
So, I shared.
“Since my father moved to Spain to get away from her, my mother has remarried six times. Six times. Now you tell me, what kind of woman needs to get married seven times before she realizes she’s not good at it? I mean, shouldn’t the first three or four times be a solid clue? I only had to kill one hamster before I realized that rodents were not my thing.”
Braids and Red exchanged a glance, then looked back at me and made awkward noises of reassurance.
“Anyway,” I went on, “she’s about to snare number eight in Oregon. I’m not going to the wedding, because I don’t speak to my mother, because she kind of ruined my life. I live by myself in an Airstream trailer, and at the moment, my closest friend is a woman who thinks she’s an angel, and who is forcing me to ply you with the deadliest food known to man. Now, I’d really appreciate it if you all would smile and wave at me as I leave as though we’ve had some kind of pleasant interaction here. Can you do that for me?” I clasped my hands in front of my heart in a gesture of total supplication. “ Please ?”
Spit-up was the first to smile. “Sure. You bet.”
She reached in the bag and handed a McGriddle to Braids, who stared at it dubiously, then smiled at me.
“My mother was a piece of work, too.” She opened up a McGriddle and took a bite, then said, loudly, “Thanks so much!”
I smiled, mouthed “Thank you,” and turned to walk back to Jess, the cheers of the Harried Moms ushering me on my way.
***
Dedication:
To all my fans, who have been so faithful and loving to me, giving me strength when I felt weak, and making me laugh when I needed cheering. You all have meant so much to me through the years; you have kept me going.
And to Emmy.
—from Twinkie and Me: The Real Life Confessions of Lilly Lorraine
Five
“EJ?”
I opened my eyes. In the dim shaft of rest area light that came through the curtains, I could see only the faintest detail of the Airstream’s ceiling. “What?”
The twin bunk squeaked as Jess shifted in her bed. “You should read the letter.”
I closed my eyes. “What letter?”
“The letter Digs gave me. The one I gave you at the diner.”
“I told you,” I said. “I read it. It was just a joke. Good night.”
“If it was important enough for Digs to bring all the way from Oregon, then it’s important enough for you to read.”
How did she always know when I was lying? That was getting really annoying. I sighed and pushed myself up on my elbows. “It’s the middle of the night, Jess. I’ll read it in the morning, okay?”
More noise, and then Jess stepped into the dim shaft of light coming through the curtains and sat at the dinette table. “We’re less than fifty miles from Colorado Springs. Tomorrow, you’re going to be rushing to get me on a plane. Now’s your last chance. You have to read it now.”
“I don’t want to read it now.”
“You have to. I’m thinking about it so much I can’t sleep, which means the Universe thinks it’s important. You have to read it now.”
I sighed and sat up in bed. “We need to discuss your deluded relationship with the Universe.”
“Do you really want to point fingers about delusions?” she asked.
I glanced up at her. She stood with her arms crossed over her stomach looking fairly threatening, the pink camisole and
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