Read Online Before the Storm by Diane Chamberlain - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Diane Chamberlain
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, Family & Relationships, Psychological fiction, Family Life, People with mental disabilities, Patients, Mothers and Sons, Arson, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome
Ads: Link
aroma of baking greeted us when we walked into
Terrier. Jamie introduced his parents Southern style as Miss
Emma and Mr. Andrew, but his father immediately insisted I
call him Daddy L. Miss Emma had contributed the gene for
Jamie’s full head of wavy dark hair, although hers was cut in a
short, uncomplicated style. Daddy L was responsible for
Jamie’s huge, round brown eyes. They each greeted their son
with bear hugs as if they hadn’t seen him in months instead of
a day or so. Miss Emma even gave me a hug and a kiss on the
cheek, then held my hands and studied me.
“She’s just precious!” she said, letting go of my hands. I
caught a whiff of alcohol on her breath
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Jamie said to his mother as he helped me
out of my leather jacket.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Daddy L leaned against the
doorjamb. “Mama’s cooked up a storm this afternoon.”
“It smells wonderful,” I said.
“That’s the meringue on my banana pudding you’re
smelling,” Miss Emma said.
“Where’s Marcus?” Jamie asked.
I hadn’t met him yet, but I knew Jamie’s fifteen-year-old
brother was something of a bad boy. Eight years younger than
Jamie, he’d been a surprise to parents who’d adjusted to the
idea of an only child.
“Lord only knows.” Miss Emma stirred a big bowl of potato
before the storm
69
salad. “He was surfing. Who knows what he’s doing now. I told
him dinner is at six-thirty, but the day he’s on time is the day
I’ll keel over from the shock.”
Jamie gave his mama’s shoulders a squeeze.“Well, let’s hope
he’s not on time, then,” he said.
An hour later, we settled around a table laden with fried
chicken, potato salad and corn bread. Marcus was not with us.
We were near one of the broad oceanside windows and I
imagined the view was spectacular in the daylight.
“So, tell me about your people, darlin’,” Miss Emma said as
she handed me the bowl of potato salad for a second helping.
I explained that my mother grew up in Raleigh and my
father in Greensboro, but that I lost them on the cruise ship
and was raised by my aunt and uncle in Ohio.
“Lord have mercy!” Miss Emma’s hand flew to her chest.
She looked at Jamie. “No wonder you two found each other.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Jamie smiled at me
and I figured I could ask him later.
“That explains your accent.” Daddy L looked at his wife and
she nodded. “We were trying to peg it.”
Daddy L helped himself to a crisp chicken thigh. He glanced
at his watch, then at the empty chair next to Jamie. “Maybe
you could talk to Marcus about his grades, Jamie,” he said.
“What about them?”
“We just got his interim report, and he’s fixin’ to flunk out
if he doesn’t buckle down,” Miss Emma said quietly, as if
Marcus could overhear us. “Mostly D’s. And it’s his junior
year. I don’t think he knows how important this year is for
getting into college.” She looked at me. “Jamie’s Daddy and I
70
diane chamberlain
never made it to college, and I want my boys to get an education.”
“I love going to UNC,” I said, although I was really thinking
that she and Daddy L had done quite well for themselves
without a college degree.
“I’ll talk to him,” Jamie said.
“He spends all the time he’s not in school on that surfboard,” Miss Emma said, “and then is off with his friends on
the weekends, no matter what we say.”
“Boy’s out of control,” Daddy L added.
I’d been in the house only an hour, but already the primary
Lockwood family dynamic was apparent: Jamie, despite the
long hair and the tattoo and the motorcycle, was the favored
son. Marcus was the black sheep. I hadn’t even met him and I
already felt sympathy for him.
We were nearly finished when we heard the downstairs
door open and close. “I’m home!” a male voice called.
“And your dinner’s cold as
Terrier. Jamie introduced his parents Southern style as Miss
Emma and Mr. Andrew, but his father immediately insisted I
call him Daddy L. Miss Emma had contributed the gene for
Jamie’s full head of wavy dark hair, although hers was cut in a
short, uncomplicated style. Daddy L was responsible for
Jamie’s huge, round brown eyes. They each greeted their son
with bear hugs as if they hadn’t seen him in months instead of
a day or so. Miss Emma even gave me a hug and a kiss on the
cheek, then held my hands and studied me.
“She’s just precious!” she said, letting go of my hands. I
caught a whiff of alcohol on her breath
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Jamie said to his mother as he helped me
out of my leather jacket.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Daddy L leaned against the
doorjamb. “Mama’s cooked up a storm this afternoon.”
“It smells wonderful,” I said.
“That’s the meringue on my banana pudding you’re
smelling,” Miss Emma said.
“Where’s Marcus?” Jamie asked.
I hadn’t met him yet, but I knew Jamie’s fifteen-year-old
brother was something of a bad boy. Eight years younger than
Jamie, he’d been a surprise to parents who’d adjusted to the
idea of an only child.
“Lord only knows.” Miss Emma stirred a big bowl of potato
before the storm
69
salad. “He was surfing. Who knows what he’s doing now. I told
him dinner is at six-thirty, but the day he’s on time is the day
I’ll keel over from the shock.”
Jamie gave his mama’s shoulders a squeeze.“Well, let’s hope
he’s not on time, then,” he said.
An hour later, we settled around a table laden with fried
chicken, potato salad and corn bread. Marcus was not with us.
We were near one of the broad oceanside windows and I
imagined the view was spectacular in the daylight.
“So, tell me about your people, darlin’,” Miss Emma said as
she handed me the bowl of potato salad for a second helping.
I explained that my mother grew up in Raleigh and my
father in Greensboro, but that I lost them on the cruise ship
and was raised by my aunt and uncle in Ohio.
“Lord have mercy!” Miss Emma’s hand flew to her chest.
She looked at Jamie. “No wonder you two found each other.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Jamie smiled at me
and I figured I could ask him later.
“That explains your accent.” Daddy L looked at his wife and
she nodded. “We were trying to peg it.”
Daddy L helped himself to a crisp chicken thigh. He glanced
at his watch, then at the empty chair next to Jamie. “Maybe
you could talk to Marcus about his grades, Jamie,” he said.
“What about them?”
“We just got his interim report, and he’s fixin’ to flunk out
if he doesn’t buckle down,” Miss Emma said quietly, as if
Marcus could overhear us. “Mostly D’s. And it’s his junior
year. I don’t think he knows how important this year is for
getting into college.” She looked at me. “Jamie’s Daddy and I
70
diane chamberlain
never made it to college, and I want my boys to get an education.”
“I love going to UNC,” I said, although I was really thinking
that she and Daddy L had done quite well for themselves
without a college degree.
“I’ll talk to him,” Jamie said.
“He spends all the time he’s not in school on that surfboard,” Miss Emma said, “and then is off with his friends on
the weekends, no matter what we say.”
“Boy’s out of control,” Daddy L added.
I’d been in the house only an hour, but already the primary
Lockwood family dynamic was apparent: Jamie, despite the
long hair and the tattoo and the motorcycle, was the favored
son. Marcus was the black sheep. I hadn’t even met him and I
already felt sympathy for him.
We were nearly finished when we heard the downstairs
door open and close. “I’m home!” a male voice called.
“And your dinner’s cold as
Similar Books
