Read Online When Good Bras Go Bad (Myrtle Crumb Series) by Gayle Trent - Free Book Online Page B

Well, the more I thought about it, the more the idea grew on me . Somebody really ought to invent a boob-trench bed . Then, you know what?  It dawned on me . Why not Lenny?  He was smart, and he was willin’ to work . Plus, since he’s a high school student, he might be able to get some grant money to do it with . How proud Delphine and Lenny’s daddy would be!  And I bet his sorry, good-for-nothin’ mama would wish she’d never walked off and left such a wonderful young ‘un . Maybe he’d get rich and famous, too . And that little Katie Couric from the “Today” show—and maybe even Oprah—would talk to him on television and he’d say it was all my idea and that I was real special to him.
                  You know, it must’ve been meant to be because as I pulled in the driveway, here came the bus . As I got out of the car, Lenny was gettin’ off the bus.
                  “Howdy, Ms. Crumb!” he hollered.
                  “Hi, darlin’ . Have you got a minute?  I’ve got an idea I wanna run past you.”
                  “Let me go tell Granny.”
                  I went in and went through the kitchen to open the back door for Matlock . He enjoys bein’ outside on these pretty days . When I got back to the living room, Lenny was knockin’ on the door.
                  “How would you like to be an inventor?” I asked him when I opened up the door.
                  “I might like it all right, I reckon . Why?”
                  I told him . I believe my boob-trench bed idea shocked him at first because his little face—and plumb to the tops of his ears—got red as a pickled beet . But he thanked me, said he’d give it some thought, and then he went on home.
                  I hope he does give it some thought . I really would like to have me a bed with a boob trench.
                  Lenny hadn’t been gone more’n ten minutes when Delphine called and asked what I was doin’ talkin’ dirty to Lenny.
                  “I most certainly was not talkin’ dirty to that boy!  Is that what he told you?”
                  “Not in so many words, but it didn’t take a genius—or a detective , Myrtle—to figure it out.”
                  “What exactly did he say?”
                  “He said you wanted him to invent some kinda bed with—” She cleared her throat . “With a special place for a…a woman’s—” She dropped her voice to a whisper . “A woman’s you-know-what’s!”
                  “Boobs, Delphine!  A woman’s boobs!”
                  She gasped . “Now you’re talkin’ dirty to me!”
                  “Oh, I am not . Excuse me for sharin’ my ideas for an invention with Lenny in hopes he could put ‘em to use and maybe even become rich and famous.”
                  That made her back off a little bit . “Well,” she said, “that’s all well and good, but, honey, you forget Lenny’s still just a boy.”
                  “Why, he ain’t either . Look at what Thomas Edison was doin’ at Lenny’s age . And how about Abe Lincoln and them Wright brothers from over yonder in North Carolina ?  What about them?”
                  Actually, I didn’t know a bit more’n nothing what—if anything—any of that bunch did when they were teenagers . But, one, I figured Delphine didn’t know either . Two, they were bound to have done somethin’ . And, three, I didn’t give Delphine a chance to argue with me about it anyway.
                  “How do you sleep?” I asked . “Do you sleep on your back, your side or your belly?”
                  “I don’t have any druthers . I just lay down and thrash around ‘til I get comfortable.”
                  “Do you ever sleep on your