Read Online Pickin Clover by Bobby Hutchinson - Free Book Online

there was nowhere to stop,” Jerome said. “Could we please use your bathroom?" He held out a paper bag. “I’ve got dry clothes for her right here.”
    Isabelle gestured behind her, along the turquoise hallway. “Go ahead. Bathroom’s right down there.” As soon as Jerome and Clover were gone, Isabelle said, “That rash she’s got contagious?”
    Michael assured her it wasn’t.
    “Good thing. Come on in the front room and sit down.”
    Michael followed her into the claustrophobic living room and sat gingerly on a dingy sofa whose springs had long since retired. It always amazed him that Polly, with her flair for decorating, her artist’s eye, her love for order and beauty, was Isabelle’s daughter.
    Isabelle had no decorating sense at all. She never threw anything away. Instead, she constantly added bits of furniture she bought at yard sales, fitting them in wherever there was space, impervious to clashing colors or designs. Cardboard boxes littered every room of the house, stacked against walls, tucked under beds, filled with paperbacks, magazines and various items Isabelle had bought and then couldn’t find an immediate use for.
    She sat in a recliner across from Michael and lit a cigarette. The house smelled strongly of stale smoke. Michael had long ago given up suggesting Isabelle quit. “Gotta die of something” had been her cheerful response each time he brought it up.
    “I’m going dancing over at the Elks hall in an hour,” she announced. “But we could have a beer first, there’re a couple cold in the fridge.”
    “Thanks, but I’m heading home for dinner, I’ll pass on the beer.” Michael was trying to figure out how best to bring up the touchy subject of the yard cleanup, and he figured maybe a little flattery might help.
    “Going dancing, huh? You look very pretty, Isabelle.” He knew she was vain, but the compliment was sincere. She was an attractive woman, dramatic in both manner and choice of clothing. She was wearing a soft green dress that flared over her generous hips and showed off good legs in dark hose. She had high-heeled black sandals on her feet, and her short hair was tinted a dramatic shining gold and sprayed into a stiff helmet. At sixty-seven she was strong, healthy and proud of the fact that she didn’t appear her age.
    Here again Michael often puzzled over the vagaries of genetics. Mother and daughter couldn’t have been less alike.
    “Why’d you bring him over?” She jerked her chin at the bathroom door, where a toilet was flushing noisily.
    Michael quickly explained that Clover was his patient, adding that Jerome was a single parent, out of work and needing a job. Now came the tricky part. Mentally, he crossed his fingers. “I thought, if you were agreeable, I’d hire him to clean up the yard for you. See, Isabelle, I heard today that your neighbors are taking up a petition. They’re upset about the piles of rubbish in the back. They’ve reported you to Social Services.”
    Michael braced himself for anger and outright rebellion against the neighbors and their petition. Isabelle had a fierce temper, so he was totally taken by surprise when she threw back her head and laughed loudly.
    “A petition, huh? Well, good for them. I always figured they had no guts, but people can surprise you. Are they offering to pay for the cleanup?”
    Michael grinned. Isabelle was outrageous, and he liked her for it. “No, I’m paying. I have a reputation to uphold and that yard of yours is doing it damage.” He said this in a teasing tone. Isabelle knew very well that he didn’t care at all about reputation, but both also knew that Polly did.
    Neither acknowledged that now. Instead, Isabelle laughed again, a great, raucous belly laugh. “Well, if you’re paying, then go ahead and pay. What’s the point of having a rich son-in-law if I never take advantage of him, eh?"
    Michael appreciated the irony of her words. His guess was Isabelle had far more in her bank account at