Read Online Hungry for More (2012) by Chelsea Scott, D. Oland, J. Welch - Free Book Online Page A
Ads: Link
he’d pulled out of his pocket, muttering under his breath and making marks with a pencil.
Bridget noticed a few of the other commuters give him a second glance as though they recognized him from somewhere, but he didn’t encourage any of them to say hello. She was faintly exasperated that he couldn’t even spare Tad some attention, but the subway was very noisy and crowded. She decided to wait and see how he did at the market before she made a fuss.
As soon as they came out of the tunnel on the other side of the Hudson, Paul got out his phone. Bridget couldn’t make out who he was talking to, but she felt sorry for whomever it was. At least sixty percent of the conversation consisted of angry swearing which she hoped that Tad wouldn’t try to repeat!
“Why the…do I have to tell you every… thing to do. You and the other little lazy…in the kitchen ought to be …your pants right now, because when I get in this afternoon all of you … are…”
Bridget filtered out the cursing as she eavesdropped on Paul’s conversation.
“LOOK, Tad. We’re in the Bronx,” Bridget said loudly, hoping to drown out his father. She tried to keep the boy occupied until they got to their stop.
The fish market wasn’t directly off of the subway line. Paul had to hail a cab. It was a difficult task, which led to more swearing. He continued yelling into his cell phone until the car came to a stop in front of a gigantic, but otherwise unremarkable metal building.
At least, it was unremarkable until she got out of the car.
“Oh, my God!” Bridget gasped, nearly reeling from the smell that assaulted her nostrils when she stepped onto the sidewalk. It was disgusting - like a trash bin left out in the sun!- but Paul didn’t seem to notice. Tad appeared delighted.
“Ewww!” he cried, clapping his hands happily as Paul led them inside.
Bridget was amazed at what she encountered when they stepped through the doors: row after row after row of crates and counters. Shoppers buzzed around like a hive of angry bees and hawkers’ voices cried out over the crowd.
A quick glance at the sellers closest to the entrance showed Bridget nearly every kind of seafood that she could imagine: mussels , clams, shrimp, lobsters and fish of every shape and size. Paul ignored them.
“This stuff is crap,” he pronounced, and looked worried. “I hope that we aren’t too late.”
He started to turn down one of the pathways, but took a minute to check himself. Bridget was delighted when he turned to scoop up Tad again. “You don’t want to get lost in this place!” he told the boy. Then he set off again, leaving Bridget to trot in their wake.
Bridget was far less pleased with Paul’s parenting skills once they reached their destination: the booth which appeared to be Paul’s supplier of choice. There was an irate exchange about the quality of the seafood that was in the case. Aspersions were cast about the provenance and age of the current offerings and then there was a heated disagreement about the price. She could understand those things- but wished that there was some way for him to get his point across without swearing so badly. Tad had already picked it up.
Her young charge gleefully yelled a curse word at a passing stock boy.
That, at least, gave Paul the grace to flush.
“Uhm…why don’t you stand over there with Nanny,” Paul said to Tad, as he approached another counter. “Daddy will just be a minute or two.”
Bridget held Tad a tactful distance from his father while the man went to barter for some swordfish to be delivered to the shop . She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but from the angry gestures that accompanied the conversation, that was probably a good thing ; but Tad was clearly itching for Paul to return. It made her smile to see just how excited Tad was when Paul bent down to scoop him up again.
“All done?” Bridget asked hopefully. She assumed that the last transaction had ended well, because
Bridget noticed a few of the other commuters give him a second glance as though they recognized him from somewhere, but he didn’t encourage any of them to say hello. She was faintly exasperated that he couldn’t even spare Tad some attention, but the subway was very noisy and crowded. She decided to wait and see how he did at the market before she made a fuss.
As soon as they came out of the tunnel on the other side of the Hudson, Paul got out his phone. Bridget couldn’t make out who he was talking to, but she felt sorry for whomever it was. At least sixty percent of the conversation consisted of angry swearing which she hoped that Tad wouldn’t try to repeat!
“Why the…do I have to tell you every… thing to do. You and the other little lazy…in the kitchen ought to be …your pants right now, because when I get in this afternoon all of you … are…”
Bridget filtered out the cursing as she eavesdropped on Paul’s conversation.
“LOOK, Tad. We’re in the Bronx,” Bridget said loudly, hoping to drown out his father. She tried to keep the boy occupied until they got to their stop.
The fish market wasn’t directly off of the subway line. Paul had to hail a cab. It was a difficult task, which led to more swearing. He continued yelling into his cell phone until the car came to a stop in front of a gigantic, but otherwise unremarkable metal building.
At least, it was unremarkable until she got out of the car.
“Oh, my God!” Bridget gasped, nearly reeling from the smell that assaulted her nostrils when she stepped onto the sidewalk. It was disgusting - like a trash bin left out in the sun!- but Paul didn’t seem to notice. Tad appeared delighted.
“Ewww!” he cried, clapping his hands happily as Paul led them inside.
Bridget was amazed at what she encountered when they stepped through the doors: row after row after row of crates and counters. Shoppers buzzed around like a hive of angry bees and hawkers’ voices cried out over the crowd.
A quick glance at the sellers closest to the entrance showed Bridget nearly every kind of seafood that she could imagine: mussels , clams, shrimp, lobsters and fish of every shape and size. Paul ignored them.
“This stuff is crap,” he pronounced, and looked worried. “I hope that we aren’t too late.”
He started to turn down one of the pathways, but took a minute to check himself. Bridget was delighted when he turned to scoop up Tad again. “You don’t want to get lost in this place!” he told the boy. Then he set off again, leaving Bridget to trot in their wake.
Bridget was far less pleased with Paul’s parenting skills once they reached their destination: the booth which appeared to be Paul’s supplier of choice. There was an irate exchange about the quality of the seafood that was in the case. Aspersions were cast about the provenance and age of the current offerings and then there was a heated disagreement about the price. She could understand those things- but wished that there was some way for him to get his point across without swearing so badly. Tad had already picked it up.
Her young charge gleefully yelled a curse word at a passing stock boy.
That, at least, gave Paul the grace to flush.
“Uhm…why don’t you stand over there with Nanny,” Paul said to Tad, as he approached another counter. “Daddy will just be a minute or two.”
Bridget held Tad a tactful distance from his father while the man went to barter for some swordfish to be delivered to the shop . She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but from the angry gestures that accompanied the conversation, that was probably a good thing ; but Tad was clearly itching for Paul to return. It made her smile to see just how excited Tad was when Paul bent down to scoop him up again.
“All done?” Bridget asked hopefully. She assumed that the last transaction had ended well, because
Similar Books
