Fatty Patty (A James Bay Novel) Read Online Free Page B

windows. I don’t want to paint the house.
    I want something else. Something more. Something I can’t put a name to, something no one else can give me… except myself.
    Well, plus the people that vote for me.
    I don’t care what it takes. I have got to win that contest.
    “Patty, pay attention to what you’re doing, or don’t do it at all.” Priscilla plucks the silverware I shoved into the drawer back out and sticks them in the rack. “They’re not even dry.”
    “Who cares?” I drop my rag and turn to face her. “Look, let’s be realistic. The house needs an update, and that means money… money we don’t have. We can’t let things fall apart like this. It’s not fair to the house and it’s not fair to us.”
    Her eyes are wide and round. “But we’ve got the bank loan. You know we’ll pay it back in time. Why not use the money when we need it? Let’s just write a check.”
    “No,” I say firmly. Priscilla’s never been good when it comes to money matters, and I’ll admit I’m not much better, but there’s no way she’s talking me into touching that home equity line again. I swallow hard, chewing on my thoughts. Is now the time to bring up the subject of a condo with top-of-the-line appliances? If only I could bring Priscilla to buy into my way of thinking, it would be an easy trade-off. With the right buyer, we could get a pretty penny for this old Victorian if—and that’s a big if —I can convince her to sell. Up until now, she’s stubbornly refused to consider the idea.
    Well, I can be just as stubborn. Although I need to be careful how I do it. Priscilla isn’t always strong enough to handle things. Hopefully this time she’s ready to listen. I take a deep breath. “I think we should consider listing the house.”
    “I cannot believe you’re bringing that up again.” She throws me a wounded stare. “We grew up in this house, Patty. It’s home. And it’s all we’ve got left of Mama. Do you want to give her up, too?”
    She leans over the sink, pulls the stopper. Water gurgles as it sucks down the drain. Too bad it can’t suck away my guilt. Both of us loved Mama, and both of us grieved when she died two years ago, but Priscilla took it hardest. Maybe because she was the one who nursed Mama through her cancer. Long black hair swirls around her face, hiding her eyes. Is she crying? Priscilla often retreats to her bed, but she never cries in front of me. I don’t think I can stand it if she starts to cry.
    “I love this house, Patty.” She turns to face me, eyes shimmering. “And I don’t want to move.”
    Oh, God, she is going to cry, and it’s all my fault.
    “I’m sorry.” She grips the counter. “You don’t deserve this. It’s all my fault.”
    I blink. “What?”
    “It’s my fault we don’t have the money.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I haven’t worked much in the past month or so and I know I’m not doing my share. But I promise you, all that is going to change. There’s no need for me to sit around, being lazy.”
    “Don’t be silly,” I scoff. “You are not lazy. You already do too much as it is. Besides, you just got over being sick, remember?”
    “I’m not sick now.”
    “Let’s keep it that way. I don’t want you having a relapse.”
    Her chin tilts high. “I’m fine, Patty. When you are going to quit babying me?”
    As soon as someone else steps up to take my place.
    “Dr. Brown called from the clinic a few weeks ago and offered me more work, but I told him no. I let him think it was because I was still sick, but the truth is… well, the truth is, I didn’t want to work.” She bites her bottom lip. “You’re going to think I’m horrible when I tell you this.”
    I try hard not to roll my eyes. Priscilla, always thinking up some new drama. “You are not horrible.”
    “I am,” she insists. “And I’m ashamed. Only a horrible person would be so jealous.”
    I feel the frown pinch my face. “Jealous of what? Of