Read Online A Cookie Before Dying by Virginia Lowell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Virginia Lowell
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the hip movements became, to say the least, distracting.
When the dance ended, Raoul turned to Olivia and Allan. “There, you see? One makes a square, with small departures. Slow, quick-quick, slow. It is simple.” With a tight, closed-lip smile, he held out his hand to Allan, who shrank back against the wall. With an elegant shrug, Raoul turned to Olivia and captured her hand. She felt her heart sink to about knee level.
Ellie took one look at her daughter’s face and said, “I’m sorry, sweetie, I forgot that you need to repeat the steps slowly several times before they make sense to you. I’m afraid you inherited that from your dear father.”
“Ah,” said Raoul. “I shall teach you slowly.”
Ellie slid between them. “That is so perceptive of you, Raoul, but first, perhaps I could try? It would be such good practice for me.” Ellie grabbed Olivia’s hand and dragged her toward the far end of the dance floor. As Raoul started to follow, she said, “No, no, you gentlemen take a break. We won’t be a minute.” Ellie slipped into the office and reappeared as the rumba music began again. She led Olivia to a dimly lit corner and said, “I know you hate this, Livie, and so does Allan, so I regretfully release my dream of having a twinkle-toed family. I shall orchestrate your escape. But first I thought we could talk more easily over here, away from the pressure. Raoul is so forceful.”
Olivia glanced back across the room, where her stepfather and Raoul stood several feet apart, arms crossed over chests, watching them. “But poor Allan is alone with Raoul.” Turning back to her mother, she asked, “Don’t you find Raoul rather intimidating?”
“Not at all, dear. Besides, Allan is more than capable of taking care of himself. By the time we finish, he will probably know all there is to know about the financial aspects of Raoul’s dancing career. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?” She took Olivia’s left hand and placed it against her upper arm. “Now Livie, you may ask your questions, but pay attention, as well. If I’m to give up the remainder of my dance lesson, at least I can have the satisfaction of teaching you a few steps. Now, start with your right foot and step backward. No, sweetie, your other right. That’s it, but slower. Make it sultry. Next, two quick steps.... Now what else did you want to know about the Critches?”
Distracted and struggling to avoid a collision, Olivia stared down at her feet and watched as they completed a square—more or less, if she didn’t count her false steps. So that’s what Raoul meant by thinking about a square. Olivia relaxed a bit and remembered one of the questions she’d wanted to ask about the intruder in The Vegetable Plate. “Um . . . about the man who broke into Charlene’s store,” she said. “Could he be someone from Charlene’s past? Her ex-husband, maybe?”
When her mother didn’t launch into a convoluted story, Olivia glanced up at her face. Ellie’s knitted eyebrows indicated thought. Olivia lost track of her feet and zigzagged right into her mother’s undulating hip. Ellie didn’t miss a step. With gentle pressure, she guided Olivia into position and hesitated a moment as her daughter stumbled back into rhythm.
“I might be thinking of someone else altogether,” Ellie said, unruffled by the mishap. “But I do think that Charlene’s brief, unfortunate marriage was a while back, at least seven or eight years, because I remember thinking how lucky your father and I were that we’d managed to stay happy despite how young we were when we married. I was only nineteen, and your father was twenty. Of course, we’d already lived together for a year at the commune.”
“Too much information, Mom.”
“Oops, I feel a spin coming on,” Ellie said. Olivia jumped out of the way in time to avoid being whacked as her mother flung her arm out.
“I do love those spins,” Ellie said. “Now where was I? Charles Sr. was the key,
When the dance ended, Raoul turned to Olivia and Allan. “There, you see? One makes a square, with small departures. Slow, quick-quick, slow. It is simple.” With a tight, closed-lip smile, he held out his hand to Allan, who shrank back against the wall. With an elegant shrug, Raoul turned to Olivia and captured her hand. She felt her heart sink to about knee level.
Ellie took one look at her daughter’s face and said, “I’m sorry, sweetie, I forgot that you need to repeat the steps slowly several times before they make sense to you. I’m afraid you inherited that from your dear father.”
“Ah,” said Raoul. “I shall teach you slowly.”
Ellie slid between them. “That is so perceptive of you, Raoul, but first, perhaps I could try? It would be such good practice for me.” Ellie grabbed Olivia’s hand and dragged her toward the far end of the dance floor. As Raoul started to follow, she said, “No, no, you gentlemen take a break. We won’t be a minute.” Ellie slipped into the office and reappeared as the rumba music began again. She led Olivia to a dimly lit corner and said, “I know you hate this, Livie, and so does Allan, so I regretfully release my dream of having a twinkle-toed family. I shall orchestrate your escape. But first I thought we could talk more easily over here, away from the pressure. Raoul is so forceful.”
Olivia glanced back across the room, where her stepfather and Raoul stood several feet apart, arms crossed over chests, watching them. “But poor Allan is alone with Raoul.” Turning back to her mother, she asked, “Don’t you find Raoul rather intimidating?”
“Not at all, dear. Besides, Allan is more than capable of taking care of himself. By the time we finish, he will probably know all there is to know about the financial aspects of Raoul’s dancing career. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?” She took Olivia’s left hand and placed it against her upper arm. “Now Livie, you may ask your questions, but pay attention, as well. If I’m to give up the remainder of my dance lesson, at least I can have the satisfaction of teaching you a few steps. Now, start with your right foot and step backward. No, sweetie, your other right. That’s it, but slower. Make it sultry. Next, two quick steps.... Now what else did you want to know about the Critches?”
Distracted and struggling to avoid a collision, Olivia stared down at her feet and watched as they completed a square—more or less, if she didn’t count her false steps. So that’s what Raoul meant by thinking about a square. Olivia relaxed a bit and remembered one of the questions she’d wanted to ask about the intruder in The Vegetable Plate. “Um . . . about the man who broke into Charlene’s store,” she said. “Could he be someone from Charlene’s past? Her ex-husband, maybe?”
When her mother didn’t launch into a convoluted story, Olivia glanced up at her face. Ellie’s knitted eyebrows indicated thought. Olivia lost track of her feet and zigzagged right into her mother’s undulating hip. Ellie didn’t miss a step. With gentle pressure, she guided Olivia into position and hesitated a moment as her daughter stumbled back into rhythm.
“I might be thinking of someone else altogether,” Ellie said, unruffled by the mishap. “But I do think that Charlene’s brief, unfortunate marriage was a while back, at least seven or eight years, because I remember thinking how lucky your father and I were that we’d managed to stay happy despite how young we were when we married. I was only nineteen, and your father was twenty. Of course, we’d already lived together for a year at the commune.”
“Too much information, Mom.”
“Oops, I feel a spin coming on,” Ellie said. Olivia jumped out of the way in time to avoid being whacked as her mother flung her arm out.
“I do love those spins,” Ellie said. “Now where was I? Charles Sr. was the key,
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