Read Online As Night Falls by Jenny Milchman - Free Book Online Page A

along Crook Road.
    The back of her dress grew clammy, sticking to the seat. Maybe she
should
turn on the air-conditioning. She checked the rearview mirror and saw that her face was flushed. From the fracas before? Nicholas’ response had been understandable. Barbara served him orange juice every morning and he’d come to expect it.
    She checked her son, sitting there solemnly, watching meadows and pens and barns roll by outside. He looked as still and cool as stone.
    Barbara wiped off her face with one of Gordon’s handkerchiefs, left behind in the glove compartment. She imagined Mr. Mackey would have the fans turned on in the grocery store. She didn’t usually react to the heat this way, and it was a little disturbing. Barbara made a turn onto Main Street, angling the wagon into a vacant parking spot.
    “Come, Nicky,” she said, an idea striking her. “We’ll buy you an ice cream cone after we get our groceries. Would you like that?”
    Nicholas was already pushing at the door. He tumbled out onto the sidewalk, but righted himself swiftly and took off. Barbara got out, too. She paused for a moment, placing one hand on the flank of the car and jerking back at the metallic burn. Then she noticed Nicholas looking over his shoulder at her, his little sneakered foot poised above the curb. Barbara felt too queasy to give chase. But Nicholas stepped into the street then, which did necessitate a run.
    —
    It took forty-five minutes to load the cart, so sluggishly was she moving. Nicholas kept seeing items and demanding that they be added. The total was going to be high, and Barbara nervously fingered the fold of bills in her purse.
    “Want orange juice,” Nicholas said, twisting around in the high-up seat.
    It was an unfortunate echo of this morning. Barbara gave her son a wan smile. “When we get home, okay?” she said. “You can have a nice big glass.”
    Maybe she would have one, too. With ice.
    Nicholas leaned over the metal lattice separating him from the groceries, and stretched out his arm. Unable to reach down far enough into the cart, he stood up on unstable legs.
    Barbara wasn’t sure what to do. If she took him out, Nicholas was likely to throw another fit. But the chances of him successfully climbing into the cart were low. And what would he do even if he made it? Guzzle juice straight out of the carton?
    She realized her son was likely to do exactly that, and the thought of the sticky mess he’d make caused her stomach to lift.
    Nicholas stood teetering on the seat. There was a gasp from a woman standing by the pyramid of soup cans beside the cart, and the next thing Barbara knew, her son was in the woman’s arms. The woman turned toward Barbara, who was leaning against the red-and-white cardboard Campbell’s sign.
    “Oh, Mrs. Burgess,” said the pastor’s wife.
    Barbara felt grateful that if anybody was going to observe what was about to happen, it would be a woman of God.
    “I didn’t see you there. You must keep an eye on your little boy now that he’s so mobile.”
    As if on cue, Nicholas bucked against the woman. “Down! I want to go down!”
    Glenda Williams cocked a brow at Barbara. “Mind your
p
’s and
q
’s, then,” she said.
    But Nicholas continued to writhe in the woman’s arms until Barbara reached for him.
    Glenda gave a quick shake of her head, keeping Barbara at bay. “Should I count?” she asked Nicholas. “By three you’re going to be nice and still. All right? One, two…”
    Nicholas quieted, and Glenda set him down on the floor.
    She aimed a smile at Barbara. “Always worked like a charm with mine,” she said. “And what a smart boy to know his numbers already.”
    Barbara fingered the chain that lay in a damp hollow at her neck. She made her tone modest. “He hasn’t even begun school yet.”
    As if knowing he was being talked about, Nicholas took off in the direction of the dairy section. Barbara heaved a sigh and started after him.
    Glenda trailed along