Blood Rites (The Dresden Files #6) - Jim Butcher Page 0,96

an arm around Lisa's shoulders. "This is no good. Come on, baby. Time for a walk until you cool off. Let's go find a beer."

"Murph," I said. I leaned down enough to mutter at her ear, "Remember. No time."

Murphy folded her arms, her expression unrepentant, but at least she turned away from her sister. Rich and Murphy Spice walked off toward the other pavilion.

Mother Murphy waited until they were gone before she faced us, her frown speaking volumes of disapproval. "For goodness' sake, Karrin. You aren't children anymore."

Explosion averted, at least for the moment. I seized the opportunity to eat the hamburger.

Oh. My. God. For food this good, I'd marry Murphy just for her mom's cooking on holidays.

"I can't believe it," Murphy said. "Rich. I thought he was working in New Orleans."

"He is," Mama Murphy said. "Lisa went down for Mardi Gras. Apparently he had to arrest her."

"Mother," Murphy protested. "You let her go to Mardi Gras? I had to sneak out of the house to go to the prom."

Mother Murphy sighed. "Karrin, you're the oldest child. She's the youngest. All parents get a little more relaxed along the way."

"Apparently," Murphy said, her voice bitter, "that includes tolerating felonies like providing alcohol to a minor. She's underage for beer until next month."

"It's always about work, isn't it," Mama Murphy said.

"This has nothing to do with work," Murphy shot back. "Mother, he's twice her age. How could you?"

I partook of near-divine hamburger and kept my head down, and felt wise for doing so.

"In the first place, dear, it isn't up to me. It's your sister's life. And he isn't twice her age. Worse things have happened." She sighed. "We all felt Lisa should be the one to talk to you, but you know how she hates confronting you."

"She's a gutless little harlot, you mean."

"That will be enough, young lady," Mama Murphy said, her voice crackling with heat and steel. "Your sister found a man who genuinely loves her. I might not be entirely confident about the notion, but she's old enough to make her own choices. And besides, you know how much I always liked Rich."

"Yes, I know," Murphy growled. "Can we talk about something else?"

"All right."

"Where are the boys?"

Mama Murphy rolled her eyes and nodded at the group around the big television out on the grass. "Somewhere in there. You can hear them yelling if you listen."

Murphy snorted. "I'm surprised Rich isn't watching the game, too."

"Karrin, I know you're still angry with him. But it's hardly the man's fault that he wanted to start a family."

"That was just a rationalization, Mother," Murphy said. "What he wanted was for me to stay home so that I wouldn't make him look bad at work."

"I'm sorry you still think that," Mama Murphy replied. "But you're cheapening him. It isn't as though he could start a family by himself. He wanted a woman willing to do that with him. You made it clear that you didn't."

"Because I didn't want to give up what I do."

"There are other people in the family who have taken up your father's duties," Mother Murphy said, her voice bitter. "There's no need for you to do it."

"That isn't why I became a cop."

Mother Murphy shook her head and sighed. "Karrin. Your brothers are all serving. They're taking their time in settling down. I don't want to tell you what to do with your life—"

Murphy snorted.

"—but I do want to have the chance to hold my grandchildren while I'm still young enough and strong enough to do it. Rich wants to settle down, and your sister wants to be the woman he does it with. Is that such a bad thing?"

"I just can't see you flying to New Orleans every month to visit them."

"Of course not, dear," Mama Murphy replied. "I don't have that kind of money. That's why they'll be settling down here."

Murphy's mouth dropped open.

"Rich has already put in for his transfer and had it approved. He'll be working for the FBI office here in Illinois."

"I don't believe this," Murphy grated. "My own sister. Here. With Rich. And you're just going to keep throwing this in my face."

"Not everything is about you, Karrin," her mother said, her voice prim. "I'm sure we can all be adults about this."

"But he's my ex-husband."

"Whom you divorced," Murphy's mother replied. But the harsh words were delivered in a gentle tone. "For goodness' sake, Karrin, you've already made it clear that you didn't want him. Why should you care if someone else does?"

"I

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