Read Online Obstruction of Justice by Perri O'Shaughnessy - Free Book Online
Authors: Perri O'Shaughnessy
Tags: Fiction
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order. He’s got two tow trucks now, and three more he wants to buy. It’s turning into a good winter business. I hate to tell you this, but I have a feeling he’s got his eye on your room for an office. "
"Oh, it’ll be fun," Nina said. "We’ll buy a castle on the lake. You and Troy and Bree can come visit and zip around in our Boston Whaler without Matt until I find it in me to forgive him for throwing me out."
Andrea showed the dimple she usually kept sequestered in her right cheek. "We’ll miss all the excitement," she said. "The break-ins, the kidnappings, the shootings ... Find a place close by, okay? One with good security."
Before leaving the house, Nina called Bob in San Francisco.
She missed him. A week away from him, even in this bustling household, made her aware how much she depended on him for company. An eleven-year-old boy said and did a number of unexpected things, she was finding out, and she’d only recently realized how much she enjoyed his spontaneity.
She had never married Bob’s father, Kurt Scott, and the relationship had ended before Bob’s birth. Bob was just getting to know Kurt, who lived in Germany but had been in the States for a long visit. Kurt had asked her to let him take Bob to San Francisco before he went back to Wiesbaden, and Nina had let Bob go with him, but she had been more lonely than she expected without Bob.
"How are you, honey?" she said when she heard Bob’s voice.
"Great!" said Bob. "Yesterday we went to the Exploratorium. They have this exhibit there, where you stand in front of a blank wall, only you don’t stand, you pose or something. So I jumped, and this light goes off, and guess what, Mom?"
"What?"
"Your shadow stays behind, frozen in a jump! Cool, huh?"
Frozen in a jump. Kind of how she felt, at the moment—suspended, transient, needing to land somewhere ... "How’s it going with your dad?"
"Does he have to go, Mom? Why can’t he stay?"
"You’ll have to talk to him about that, honey." She felt the familiar stab of guilt. Bob wasn’t fated to have a pair of parents around the house. She just couldn’t seem to get it right, unlike Andrea.
She went to see Mr. Muntz in his office a few blocks from her own. "What would be your financing options? " the dapper silver-haired realtor said twice before she heard him. Startled, she closed the multiple listing book with its pictures of homes all over Tahoe.
He handed her a long form full of financial minutiae. "Why don’t you go ahead and fill this in?" he said. "It’ll help me pick out some good properties for us to look at."
"I’d prefer to look first. Then, if I get interested in a house, we’ll talk about that," Nina said.
Mr. Muntz remained outwardly cheerful, although she could sense that he had revised his initial good impression of her. At her request they went out to his car, a yellow Cadillac, a few years old, its waxed finish satiny. He said he would take her for a tour of the town, the "grand tour," he called it. She felt as if she were cruising on an ocean liner as she sat in the front seat flipping through the listings, fascinated as Mr. Muntz Berlitzed her through a whole new language. Where else would she learn that AEK meant "all-electric kitchen" or that charm was real-estate lingo for minuscule? Or that fixer was short for run for your life and secure stood for rotten, crime-ridden neighborhood?
They started down near the lake, in a neighborhood of crowded cottages, all alike in a rustic simplicity, and yet obviously put together by a hundred different people with a hundred different ideas about what constituted a home.
"This is the Bijou," he said. "A lot of rentals in this neighborhood." He turned his head slightly to observe her reaction. She didn’t say anything, so he went on: "The prices are good, though. It’s an excellent entry-level neighborhood, close to the casinos, if that’s your style." Again he swung an eye her way.
"Small lots," she commented.
"You’re
"Oh, it’ll be fun," Nina said. "We’ll buy a castle on the lake. You and Troy and Bree can come visit and zip around in our Boston Whaler without Matt until I find it in me to forgive him for throwing me out."
Andrea showed the dimple she usually kept sequestered in her right cheek. "We’ll miss all the excitement," she said. "The break-ins, the kidnappings, the shootings ... Find a place close by, okay? One with good security."
Before leaving the house, Nina called Bob in San Francisco.
She missed him. A week away from him, even in this bustling household, made her aware how much she depended on him for company. An eleven-year-old boy said and did a number of unexpected things, she was finding out, and she’d only recently realized how much she enjoyed his spontaneity.
She had never married Bob’s father, Kurt Scott, and the relationship had ended before Bob’s birth. Bob was just getting to know Kurt, who lived in Germany but had been in the States for a long visit. Kurt had asked her to let him take Bob to San Francisco before he went back to Wiesbaden, and Nina had let Bob go with him, but she had been more lonely than she expected without Bob.
"How are you, honey?" she said when she heard Bob’s voice.
"Great!" said Bob. "Yesterday we went to the Exploratorium. They have this exhibit there, where you stand in front of a blank wall, only you don’t stand, you pose or something. So I jumped, and this light goes off, and guess what, Mom?"
"What?"
"Your shadow stays behind, frozen in a jump! Cool, huh?"
Frozen in a jump. Kind of how she felt, at the moment—suspended, transient, needing to land somewhere ... "How’s it going with your dad?"
"Does he have to go, Mom? Why can’t he stay?"
"You’ll have to talk to him about that, honey." She felt the familiar stab of guilt. Bob wasn’t fated to have a pair of parents around the house. She just couldn’t seem to get it right, unlike Andrea.
She went to see Mr. Muntz in his office a few blocks from her own. "What would be your financing options? " the dapper silver-haired realtor said twice before she heard him. Startled, she closed the multiple listing book with its pictures of homes all over Tahoe.
He handed her a long form full of financial minutiae. "Why don’t you go ahead and fill this in?" he said. "It’ll help me pick out some good properties for us to look at."
"I’d prefer to look first. Then, if I get interested in a house, we’ll talk about that," Nina said.
Mr. Muntz remained outwardly cheerful, although she could sense that he had revised his initial good impression of her. At her request they went out to his car, a yellow Cadillac, a few years old, its waxed finish satiny. He said he would take her for a tour of the town, the "grand tour," he called it. She felt as if she were cruising on an ocean liner as she sat in the front seat flipping through the listings, fascinated as Mr. Muntz Berlitzed her through a whole new language. Where else would she learn that AEK meant "all-electric kitchen" or that charm was real-estate lingo for minuscule? Or that fixer was short for run for your life and secure stood for rotten, crime-ridden neighborhood?
They started down near the lake, in a neighborhood of crowded cottages, all alike in a rustic simplicity, and yet obviously put together by a hundred different people with a hundred different ideas about what constituted a home.
"This is the Bijou," he said. "A lot of rentals in this neighborhood." He turned his head slightly to observe her reaction. She didn’t say anything, so he went on: "The prices are good, though. It’s an excellent entry-level neighborhood, close to the casinos, if that’s your style." Again he swung an eye her way.
"Small lots," she commented.
"You’re
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