Jack Vettriano Only the deepest Red II

Jack Vettriano Only the deepest Red IIJack Vettriano on ParadeJack Vettriano Night Geometry
there, not getting much ahead but glad enough to be around stock again, free to drop things, quit if he had to, and go into the mountains at short notice. He had no serious hard feelings, just a vague sense of getting shortchanged, and counter, feeling too big for the room.
“You still go fishin with that Jack Twist?”
“Some.” He thought she’d take the pattern off the plate with the scraping.
“You know,” she said, and from her tone he knew something was coming, “I used to wonder how come you never brought any trouts home. Always said you caught plenty. So one time I got your creel case open the night before you showed it was all right by taking Thanksgiving dinner with Alma and her grocer and the kids, sitting between his girls and talking horses to them, telling jokes, trying not to be a sad daddy. After the pie Alma got him off in the kitchen, scraped the plates and said she worried about him and he ought to get married again. He saw she was pregnant, about four, five months, he guessed.“Once burned,” he said, leaning against the