The Broken Rifle
Copyright© 2024 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 10
Beck asked the question.
“What do you do?”
“Head librarian at the Bearden Library.”
Beck immediately burst into tears ... great wracking heartfelt sobs ... accompanied with hiccups...
Marion enveloped my daughter, “What on earth...?”
“M ... mm ... oo ... m was(hic) he ... ad Li ... brar... (hic) ian in(hic) Weare.”
“Weare?”
“Nudeha(hic)msta.”
“Weare? Weare? Weare! Jo ... umh? ... Huntly. Your mom is famous. She told the best stories. I have one of her CDs.”
“Well ... I think you’ll do. What are your intentions towards my father?”
“A trifle sudden, don’t you think?”
Beck took what I call an adversarial stance. She crossed her arms under her breasts, leaned forward ... just a bit ... and clouded up her face. Tux looks like that when someone done her wrong.
Cats can be good role models.
She didn’t say a word ... just looked. Made Marion nervous.
Marion stuttered a bit... “He’s awfully old.”
Beck said, “You’re no spring chicken.”
“Twenty years difference.”
Beck just looked.
“I will say this ... we like the same music.”
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