Read Online Mad River Road by Joy Fielding - Free Book Online Page A

You promised.”
    “We’ll do it another time. Tomorrow …”
    Brad shook his head. “You’re busy tomorrow,” he said.
    “What?” Cynthia asked.
    “Not tomorrow. Sorry. Tomorrow’s no good.”
    “And not Sunday either,” Brad said.
    “This weekend’s just not good for me,” Jamie said.
    “Well, when
is
good for you? We can’t keep putting it off forever.”
    Why can’t we? Jamie wondered. Why the rush to dispose of Mom’s things? It’s not like she was going anywhere. Jamie leaned her cheek against Brad’s, felt his morning stubble rough against her skin. “Look, I think I’m going to go away for a few days,” she said suddenly, feeling Brad’s smile stretch across his face. “Maybe for a week.”
    “What? What are you talking about? What do you mean you’re going away? Where are you going? What are you talking about?” Cynthia questioned angrily.
    “I just need a break.”
    “A break?”
    “Not for long. A week. Maybe two,” she added as Brad held up the middle and index fingers of his right hand.
    “This is unbelievable. When did you decide this?”
    “I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
    “Call me when you grow up,” Cynthia said before slamming down the phone.
    Brad was instantly on his feet. “Way to go, Jamie.”
    “She’s really pissed.”
    “To hell with her.” Brad grabbed her hands, twirled her around the living room. “Come on, Jamie-girl. Time’s a wasting. Let’s get this show on the road.”
    “But where are we going? Do we have any plan at all?”
    “Of course we have a plan. We’ll head north. Maybe stop for a few nights in Ohio.”
    “Ohio? What’s in Ohio?”
    “My son. Wait till you see him, Jamie. You’re gonna love him. Come on. You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
    Second thoughts were exactly what she was having. Everything was moving so fast. Too fast. She’d already committed one impulsive act today. Was she actually considering driving off into the sunset with some guy she’d just met? In
her
car, no less! She needed to take a deep breath, calm down, think things through.
    “I’ll take that as a no,” Brad said, kissing her gently on the lips.
    What was she worried about? she wondered, tossing aside any pesky concerns. “Where in Ohio?” she asked him.
    “Dayton,” he told her, flashing that wondrous grin. “A street called Mad River Road.”

FOUR
    T he two-story wood house at 131 Mad River Road was like all the other houses on the street: old and slightly shabby. Its gray paint was peeling, and the once-white shutters framing the four front windows were stained and tilted at a variety of precarious angles. The shutters outside the bedroom windows were in particularly bad shape, caked with years of accumulated debris, and barely hanging on. Just like me, Emma thought, breathing in the crisp morning air and reluctantly pushing her long legs up the six crumbling front steps. She stopped on the tiny porch before the torn screen door. Beyond the screen door was another door, this one solid and painted black, although the color was faded and the surface scratched. Across the threshold was more peeling, more crumbling, more fading. The old house had definitely seen better days. Emma shrugged. Who hadn’t? Besides, what did she expect for the kind of rent she was paying?
    Several years ago the street had been bought up by developers with the idea of tearing down the existing houses and erecting a row of pricey townhomes. Gentrification, they called it. Except that someone on thecity council had objected, and the project had stalled, mired in a seemingly endless ball of sticky red tape. In the meantime, the developers, reluctant to give up on their investment and hoping to reach a satisfactory accord with the powers-that-be in the near future, had decided to rent out the houses on a monthly basis. The result was that Mad River Road had become something of a haven for women in a state of flux, women whose pasts were murky, whose