Read Online All the Single Ladies by Dorothea Benton Frank - Free Book Online Page A

of white-­painted risers and thick boards that had been lacquered black. The simple handrails were forged of black wrought iron and the screen door had the silhouette of a loggerhead turtle incorporated into its design on the bottom, giving the entrance an old-­fashioned Lowcountry signature.
    I’d live with my grandmother too if she had a house like this, I thought.
    The French doors that ran the length of the porch were all wide open and three ceiling fans were spinning on full speed, creating a breeze. Was it possible there was no air-­conditioning? Suzanne must have heard my car door close because she met me at the entrance before I could ring the bell.
    â€œHey! I’m so glad you’re here!” She leaned down and offered her palm to Pickle, who held back for two seconds and then leapt forward and licked it furiously. “Sweet girl!”
    â€œYeah, that’s my dog playing hard to get.”
    â€œShe’s precious! Y’all come on in. Would you like a glass of iced tea?”
    â€œMore than anything on earth,” I answered, and followed her into the house, through the living room, where there stood an old Steinway grand piano, and finally to the kitchen, where a television was playing on mute. “Great house! When was it built?”
    â€œThanks. It’s sort of falling down here and there. I think it was built around 1910. The house isn’t worth much, but the dirt? The dirt under the house is pretty special.”
    The screen door slammed again and Carrie sailed in with a box of Krispy Kreme donuts.
    â€œThey’re still warm!” she said. “Hey, Lisa!”
    â€œHey,” I said. “I’m here to help sort through Kathy’s stuff.”
    â€œGreat! Who’s this little lover?”
    She put the box on the kitchen table and flipped it open. In there were six opportunities to commit the sin of gluttony.
    â€œStop bringing donuts! You know I’m trying to diet!” Suzanne said.
    â€œI know. But the light was on. And I could smell them. And I’m weak. And I can still afford six donuts.”
    There was an infamous red neon light on the sign in front of the donut shop that they turned on when they had donuts fresh from the oven. And they had drive-­thru ser­vice, a diabolical invention of entrapment.
    â€œThis is Pickle, my meaningful other. Pickle say hello. Go on. Say hello!” Pickle yipped and licked Carrie’s outstretched hand. “Good girl. Okay. Let’s just get it over with and eat them right now.”
    There was a distinct thumping on the floor from the room above us. Suzanne started to laugh.
    â€œWhat’s that?” I said.
    Suzanne said, “That is my Miss Trudie’s cane. She can smell sugar.” She hurried to the stairway in the hall and called out. “I’ll be right there!”
    â€œHow funny!” I said.
    â€œNothing wrong with her sense of smell,” Suzanne said. She put two donuts on a small plate and turned to Pickle. “You want to go say hello to my grandmomma? Come on!”
    Pickle looked at me for approval.
    â€œGo on! Behave yourself.”
    And Pickle scampered out of the room and up the stairs with Suzanne.
    â€œSo, how’s it going?” I said to Carrie.
    â€œYou know? Not so great. I’ve got that problem with John’s children?”
    â€œThe darlings,” I said.
    â€œWell, I found out late Friday afternoon that they won and now I’m broke. The judge was as mean as John’s kids.”
    â€œAren’t you going to contest the decision? Surely they don’t want you to be destitute. I mean, how could this happen?”
    â€œBecause the judge is a sanctimonious asshole. He said under North Carolina law, since John died on the altar before the marriage could be deemed legal and be consummated, that we weren’t married and his children should get everything. And the fact that John and I lived together all