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

behind, still murmuring. “My boys didn’t get so…willful until they were older.”
    The comment was charitable. The Williams boys were shining examples of the community, one with his own farm, two studying downstate, the youngest planning one day to assume his daddy’s pulpit.
    A thick, wet
thud
came from the rear of the store. Barbara abandoned her cart, purse slapping against her arm as she hurried forward.
    Nicholas was sitting in a puddle of orange juice. A carton had fallen onto the floor. Barbara had no idea how Nicholas had gotten a hold of it; he must’ve climbed into the refrigerated case.
    He was trying to scoop up a handful of liquid, slicked with gray dirt from the floor. Barbara went to Nicholas, taking care not to skid. He screamed as she stooped down beside him.
    “Mama! No pick me up! Want juice!”
    He beat his sticky fists against Barbara’s chest—the only clean dress she had left—and one found its way into her mouth. She tasted grit and syrupy sweet citrus and the combination was too much for her stomach, which had been so fragile all morning.
    It lifted, disgorging its contents to mix with the juice, and as Barbara leaned over, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she suddenly remembered the last time she had felt this hot and nauseous and tired all at once.
    It had nothing to do with the weather, or her boisterous little boy.
    Glenda Williams appeared, towing Mr. Mackey alongside her, and Barbara let out a lone, solitary howl of protest that joined her son’s.
    —
    Glenda scooped Nicholas out of the mess on the floor, directing a hapless Mr. Mackey to unlock the washroom door, and carrying the boy inside. Nicholas’ protests didn’t abate; the little room rocked with their force.
    But as Barbara leaned against the refrigerated section, fanning herself and trying to rid her mouth of its vile taste, things did begin to quiet down. Eventually Glenda emerged, plunking Nicholas on the floor with a little pat to his bottom. The boy smiled up at her. His chocolaty curls were slicked down and his face looked clean, though the bottom of his shorts was still stained orange. Laundry on a live, yelling child in a washroom was beyond even Glenda Williams.
    Barbara tried to muster words.
    “Mama?” said Nicholas.
    Barbara gathered breath for her reply. “Yes, angel?”
    “I want ice cream,” he said.
    Glenda let out a rather heretical snort.
    Barbara looked at her.
    “Please tell me you’re not going to give this child a treat,” Glenda said.
    Barbara opened her mouth to explain. “He’s stormy by nature. Sensitive, really. He takes things so hard—”
    “Mama! You said ice cream!”
    Glenda spoke over the cry. “Barbara Burgess, stop making excuses. For yourself and for the boy. He won’t listen because he’s not in the habit of listening.”
    Barbara stared at her.
    “Ma-ma! I—want—ice cream!”
    But Nicholas’ heart clearly wasn’t in it anymore. His throat sounded hoarse, and his cries were croggy. The boy had tired himself out; his small body appeared to be wilting.
    It was one way to end a tantrum, Barbara supposed. Just outlast it.
    “I thought about spanking him myself,” Glenda said, turning briskly. “There’s nothing wrong with this child that a little discipline won’t cure.” She paused, then swiveled back, a note of portent in her voice. “Not now there isn’t. Where he’ll be in a year or two,” she added darkly, “I couldn’t say.”
    She didn’t walk off, but continued standing there, quietly observing. Barbara was left with no choice but to lift Nicholas into her arms and leave the store. She got them both into the car, whose internal temperature had risen to a baking heat. It was only once she’d twisted the key in the ignition that Barbara realized she had left all her groceries back in the store.
    They suddenly seemed of the utmost unimportance. Barbara couldn’t recall why she had ever thought to venture out today.
    She turned to look