Daron's Guitar Chronicles Volume 12

958 NOTHING NATURAL

NOTHING NATURAL

When I arrived back at the house in the morning, Courtney was wallowing in misery.

"Ugh, this is your fault," she said to me, her face half buried in the crook of her arm on the breakfast table.

"What's my fault?" I sat down next to her and Janine put a mug of coffee in front of me without saying a word.

"I mean me. My own fault." She leaned closer and said in a low voice, "You were supposed to take me back to the motel last night so I could avoid all this."

"I tried to wake you up."

"I know. God, I'm stupid." She groaned. "Now I have to decide whether to make a scene or suck it up."

Janine plopped a box of Special K on the table in front of us, along with a pile of bowls. A bunch of spoons and a tall, skinny carton of milk followed. I poured a bowl for Courtney, put a spoon in it, and pushed it toward her before making one for myself. "You want me to prep you a bowl, too, Janine?"

She grunted and sat down, staring at the criss-crossed pile of spoons.

"You look like you could use some coffee, too."

She grunted again and rubbed her eyes. "I gotta drink a cup of coffee before I'm awake enough to remember to drink my coffee."

I knew that feeling well. "Here, I'll get it." The carafe in the coffee machine was nearly full. I took a clean mug out of the dishwasher and poured it three quarters full so she could add milk. I put the sugar bowl on the table, too.

"This cereal is really good," Court said suspiciously, looking over the box for clues.

"It's not the cereal. It's that we're apparently having it with half-and-half," I said.

Janine poured half-and-half into her coffee, stirred in some sugar, and then downed quite a bit of it. I don't think it works instantaneously, but she seemed to perk up within seconds. "That's because some man did the grocery shopping and underestimated how much milk a five-year-old boy can drink. Ugh. And the grocery store is closed today."

"Is Mom still upstairs? She's still upstairs, right?" Courtney asked.

Janine nodded and cradled her mug.

"How about this. I'll stay here and clean up the breakfast dishes." Courtney got up and put her bowl into the empty sink, the spoon clinking into it after.

"Hoo boy, that'll take forever, putting half a dozen bowls into the dishwasher and turning it on," Janine snarked.

"Court, if you don't want to go, I think you should just say you don't want to go." I picked up my own bowl and drank the cream out of the bottom, then got up to add it to hers in the sink.

Court folded her arms. She was wearing a green flannel shirt that I suspected had once been mine, but I didn't like the green one as much as the red. I couldn't remember if I gave it to her or not. "Have you met our mother? That isn't going to fly."

"Are you sure she wants you to come?"

"Of course she wants me to."

"Did she say so? Or is it just your assumption? Maybe she feels guilty about putting you through all that evangelical crap."

"Oh, like she'd admit that? You know facing facts isn't her strong suit."

"I dunno, for a woman who doesn't face facts she's being awfully detail-oriented about dying."

"So that we'll cut her some slack."

Somehow I doubted it was "slack" Claire was after. "Why don't you just ask her?"