Read Online In Front of God and Everybody by KD McCrite - Free Book Online Page A

better believe Rough Creek Road has its own oddballs. For example, there’s Uncle Melt and Auntie Freesia Mahoney, who like to say they’ve raised three kids, one of each. One of each what, I’d like to know? A girl and a boy and what else? They talk to and about their fixed poodle, Pancake, as if it’s a kid. Maybe that’s what they mean. And then there’s the Todds. They’ve lived at the end of the road, right on the edge of the Ozark National Forest, since the early 1960s. They don’t talk to anyone—especially not the locals—and they sure don’t want anyone talking to them. If you try, you might get your head blown off. Like I said, we got our share of weirdos around here.
    Anyway, the more I thought about Mr. Rance being up to no good, the more it all made sense. The way the old man eyeballed the TV and VCR, he probably thought she was loaded. I’d heard about men who sweet-talk nice ladies into giving them everything they own, but Grandma don’t have much— just her home furnishings and her Social Security checks.
    Well, he better not try to sponge off my grandma. He better not be a crook. Or an old lady’s purse snatcher. Or a wife murderer.
    â€œBoy, oh boy,” I said as I started walking again. “You don’t want to mess with the grandma of April Grace Reilly. If I find out he’s up to mischief, I’m going to fix him good.”
    I sort of felt like John Wayne or Clint Eastwood. If either one of them had been a girl, I mean.

EIGHT

The St. Jameses
Are Coming,
Hurrah, Hurrah

That night I set the table for company supper. Myra Sue came into the dining room. She stared at the table, then squawked like a strangled goose.
    â€œYou dumb little kid! Don’t you know anything ?” she said to me. She began stacking up the plates I’d just laid out.
    â€œMama told me to set the table, and you’re messing it up. Stop it!” I reached out to take the plates back from her.
    â€œStop it yourself, you toad!” said Myra Sue.
    She yanked backward. The top two plates slid from the stack and crashed to the floor.
    â€œWhat in the world?” Mama came out of the kitchen, looking from the plates on the floor to us. Her face was pink and damp from the hot stove.
    â€œMama, she unset the table—” I began.
    â€œMama, she was using these old dishes—” Myra Sue butted in.
    â€œQuiet!” Mama hardly ever raised her voice, so when she hollered we both hushed. She glared at us, then said, “I told you to set the table, April Grace, and you, Myra Sue, are supposed to call Grandma and tell her to bring ice.”
    Usually, Mama never gets flustered, but I had a feeling she was all nervous and jumpy because those snotty St. Jameses were coming. She rubbed a spot above her eyebrows.
    â€œWhat happened, April?” she asked in a voice that sounded as if she were tired enough to lay right down.
    I shot a triumphant look at my sister.
    â€œI set the table, eight places, just like you told me to. Then Myra Sue sticks her stupid head in here—”
    â€œApril Grace.” Mama’s voice held a warning.
    I cleared my throat. “Myra Sue sticks her head in here and starts hollering and unsets it all, then she goes and dumps them plates on the floor.”
    â€œYou are such a big fat liar. Mama, your youngest daughter used our old dishes instead of our good ones, and Mr. and Mrs. St. James are extra special guests.”
    â€œOh brother,” I muttered.
    â€œThey deserve the very best,” she added.
    Suddenly we’re the Hallmark card people. I was afraid I might upchuck, but from the expression on Mama’s face, I decided standing there and gagging probably wasn’t the smartest thing I could do.
    â€œThey are from California ,” Myra Sue continued, as if that were the cherry on top of her sundae.
    â€œSo what?” I said.
    â€œWhat about these broken plates on