Read Online The View From Here by Cindy Myers - Free Book Online Page B

“We can leave a note for your mom.” No telling when Olivia would awaken; she’d looked completely beat last night.
    â€œNo, I don’t think so. I’ll look around on my own.”
    â€œYou should stay here with your mom.”
    â€œShe won’t care if I go look around,” he said. “She doesn’t worry about me.”
    Lucille couldn’t believe that. Every mother worried about her children, even long after they were grown and gone. “All right. Stop by my shop at lunch time and we’ll get something to eat.”
    â€œHow will I know which store is yours?”
    â€œThe name of the place is Lacy’s. It’s on Pickax Street.”
    â€œThat’s a funny name for a street.”
    â€œA lot of places around here have names related to mines and mining. The people who first came here—well, the first white men—were all miners.
    â€œWere there Native Americans here before that?”
    Not “Indians” but “Native Americans.” So politically correct and strangely adult sounding. “The Uncompahgre lived in the area before it was settled.”
    He nodded again, focused on the cereal.
    â€œAre you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?” she asked.
    He nodded. “I’m used to finding my way around in new places. And Mom says Eureka is pretty small, right?”
    â€œYes, it’s pretty small.”
    â€œThen I shouldn’t have any problems.”
    Where did he get that outsized sense of self-assurance? Not from her. Not from his mother either. Olivia had been shy to the point of being tongue-tied until eighth grade. Even then, she’d never been a social butterfly. Left to her own devices for a day, she’d have retreated to her room to read science fiction, write in her journal, and listen to dark, incomprehensible music.
    â€œThere’s a bicycle in the shed out back if you want to use it,” Lucille said.
    â€œOkay.”
    They were definitely going to have to work on his manners. “When someone offers you the use of something they own, you should say thank you,” she said.
    â€œOkay.” Pause. “Thank you.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.” What the hell had she gotten herself into? “I’d better go now. See you at lunch.” She left him at the table and went to get her purse and her keys. She took one last peek at him before she went out the door. He’d gotten up and was pouring a second bowl of cereal. As if waking up in a house with a grandmother who was a virtual stranger, in a town on the edge of nowhere, was really no big deal at all.
    Â 
    Maggie found the bank and withdrew some cash from the ATM. She didn’t have a lot of money, but it ought to be enough to see her through a few more weeks. Of course, there was always the Steuben, which was insured for $20,000, but it wasn’t exactly a liquid asset. And it was the one good thing she’d taken from her marriage.
    Eureka Grocery was a surprisingly well-stocked market with a deli in the back and three check stands by the door. She filled a basket with frozen dinners, canned soup, bread, cereal, and skim milk—the single woman’s shopping list. Add a few tins of cat food and she’d be a full-fledged stereotype.
    When she was married, she’d prided herself on her cooking skills; she’d made her own soups and bread, even homemade pasta. Such effort seemed pointless when you had to eat the results alone.
    Next door to the market sat a long, low building. Bright red letters in the front window identified it as Lacy’s. A stout blonde in a long, red flowered skirt and black ballet slippers was sweeping the front porch when Maggie approached. “Good morning,” the woman said cheerfully, not pausing in her work but turning to sweep her way toward Maggie. “Come on in and look around. I’ve got a little bit of everything.”
    This was no understatement. From