"Mary Janice Davidson - Betsy 01 - Undead And Unwed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

demands that I live full-time with my mother. He had been granted shared custody, and by God I would
be shared. Instead he kept her quiet with trinkets, and bought me off with books, and went to alot of
out-of-town seminars. I took the books, and tried to get along. To AntoniaтАЩs credit she never insulted
Mom in my hearing again, and I never again had to toss precious metals into our KitchenAid. But I had
little sympathy for either of them. They had made their choices.

*****
 I pulled up outside their stupidly large houseтАФdo two people really need thirty-five hundred square
feet?тАФand hopped out of my car. Apparently my house and car hadnтАЩt been sold, nothing of my
estateтАФpitiful as it wasтАФhad been settled. Well, heck, IтАЩd only been dead a few days. My familyтАФwell,
my mom and dadтАФwere doubtless still in shock.

I pushed open the front door in time to hear my stepmotherтАЩs dulcet tones: тАЬGodammit, Arnie, you
should sue their fucking asses off!They lost your daughterтАЩs body ! Now the funeralтАЩs been delayed
who knows how long, weтАЩre going to have to postpone our vacationтАФJesus fucking Christ!тАЭ

A тАШclinkтАЩ as my father dropped an ice cube into his shot of DewarтАЩs. тАЬIтАЩm mad, too, Toni, but letтАЩs give
the funeral place a chance. I know theyтАЩre doing everything they can. If they havenтАЩt foundтАФтАЭ Here his
voice broke a bit and I instantly forgave him for most of my adolescence. тАЬтАФhavenтАЩt found Betsy by
tomorrow, IтАЩll make some phone calls.тАЭ

тАЬNo need,тАЭ I said, walking into the living room. The look on my stepmotherтАЩs face was well worth the
misery of dying and coming back. тАЬHere I am. Ant, where thehell are my shoes?тАЭ

Dead (ha!) silence, broken by the crash of breaking glass as the stepmonsterтАЩs wine glass hit the floor.
The color drained from her face all at once, and for the first time I noticed she had a fine network of
crowтАЩs feet around each eye. She was fifteen years older than me, and right now she looked every
minute of it.

тАЬB-Betsy?тАЭ My father was trying to smile, but the corners of his mouth trembled and I knew he was
afraid. It was awfulтАФmy own dad, scared of me!тАФbut I wasnтАЩt going to do something about it right that
second. I kept walking toward his wife.

тАЬYou gave the mortuary a pink suit when you know damn well I hate pink. You gave them your shitty
cast-offs when you know how much I love designer shoes. Then you snuck in my house andstole my
good shoes.тАЭ

SheтАЩd backed up all the way to the mantel, and in another few seconds would probably crawl into the
fireplace. I stopped until we were nose-to-nose. Her breath smelled like lobster. Nice! A celebratory
dinner on the day of the stepdaughterтАЩs funeral. тАЬNow. Where are they?тАЭ

тАЬToni, you really did that?тАЭ my father asked. This was typical. He always overlooked the giant,
insurmountable problem (daughter returning from the grave) and focused on something more manageable
(bitch wife stealing dead daughterтАЩs footwear). тАЬYou know how long she saved up to buyтАФтАЭ

тАЬShe wasdead , for ChristтАЩs sake!тАЭ Even now, my stepmonster managed to sounds affronted and
harassed.

тАЬIrrelevant!тАЭ I yelled back. I heard something break behind me, but didnтАЩt turn. тАЬWhere are they?тАЭ