Read Online Don't Say A Word by Barbara Freethy - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Freethy
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into the pile. "I guess she had a sentimental soft Spot after all. Who knew?"
"There's a lot we don't know about her, Liz. I spent all night thinking about what I don't know about her, like where she grew up and where she spent her summer vacations. Where she went to school. Her friends, her first boyfriend. She never talked about herself. And we never asked. Why didn't we ask?"
"I guess I wasn't that interested," Liz admitted, the smile quickly disappearing from her face. "I thought we'd have more time."
"Me, too." Julia touched her sister's hand to com-fort. She was still the big sister, and she'd promised her mother she'd always watch out for Liz. "Even though we knew the diagnosis, we couldn't stop hoping. And Mom never wanted to say good-bye. She never wanted to talk about the end, even though we all knew it was coming."
"You're right. She asked me two days before she died to take her out into the garden so she could decide what to plant in the fall." Liz blinked back a tear, then reached back into the box. "I see some thing. Hey, what's this?"
She pulled out a hand-painted wooden doll about ten inches tall. The artwork on the doll was intricate and detailed. A woman's face was painted on the round head, a wreath of white flowers on her dark hair. The larger, cylinderlike body of the doll showed the woman's costume, a white dress with three feathered tiers and a floral pattern that mixed red flowers and green leaves. Along the base of the doll was a circle of swans that glistened in the lacquer finish. Julia's heart skipped a beat. The swans matched the one on her necklace. And she knew this doll. She'd held it in her hands before. "It's stunning," she murmured.
"I don't remember seeing it before," Liz said.
Julia took it out of Liz's hand. She opened the top and found another doll inside, then another one, and another. "It's a nesting doll," she said. "It's called a matryoshka doll."
"What? How do you know that?"
"I don't know how I know that." Julia looked from the doll to her sister, feeling like she was about to fall over the edge of a cliff. "But I know what it is. It's a Russian doll. And it's mine."
Chapter 4
"I need to look through Dad's negatives," Alex said to his mother as she ushered him into the living room of her two-story house in Presidio Heights.
"And good morning to you, too," Kate Manning said sharply. She sat down on a spotlessly clean white couch that took up one wall of the large room, and crossed her arms in front of her. Dressed in a light blue silky pants outfit with a pair of impractical spike heels, she looked very sophisticated. Alex couldn't remember ever seeing her in sweats or tennis shoes, and certainly never without her makeup. She had always been very conscious of her appearance.
Alex sat down in the antique chair across from her, sensing this would not be the easy visit he'd hoped for. Time had not mellowed his mother's attitude, and he was reminded of why he rarely chose to visit her. If he wanted to get anywhere with her, he better backtrack and Start over. "Sorry, Mother. How are you?"
"I'm fine, not that you care. It's been months since we've spoken."
"We saw each other last night."
"Before that. Don't get cute with me, Alex. You don't return my calls. You don't answer my e-mail, and you couldn't be bothered to remember my birthday."
"I sent you a card."
"Three weeks late."
"I was in a remote jungle in Africa. The mail Service wasn't good."
"You always have an answer to everything," she said with a wave of her well-manicured hand. "Just like your father."
Alex sighed. How many times had he heard that phrase? Just like your father . Well, he was proud to be just like his father. But that wasn't an issue he intended to discuss with her. "Do you still have Dad's negatives?"
Her mouth drew
"There's a lot we don't know about her, Liz. I spent all night thinking about what I don't know about her, like where she grew up and where she spent her summer vacations. Where she went to school. Her friends, her first boyfriend. She never talked about herself. And we never asked. Why didn't we ask?"
"I guess I wasn't that interested," Liz admitted, the smile quickly disappearing from her face. "I thought we'd have more time."
"Me, too." Julia touched her sister's hand to com-fort. She was still the big sister, and she'd promised her mother she'd always watch out for Liz. "Even though we knew the diagnosis, we couldn't stop hoping. And Mom never wanted to say good-bye. She never wanted to talk about the end, even though we all knew it was coming."
"You're right. She asked me two days before she died to take her out into the garden so she could decide what to plant in the fall." Liz blinked back a tear, then reached back into the box. "I see some thing. Hey, what's this?"
She pulled out a hand-painted wooden doll about ten inches tall. The artwork on the doll was intricate and detailed. A woman's face was painted on the round head, a wreath of white flowers on her dark hair. The larger, cylinderlike body of the doll showed the woman's costume, a white dress with three feathered tiers and a floral pattern that mixed red flowers and green leaves. Along the base of the doll was a circle of swans that glistened in the lacquer finish. Julia's heart skipped a beat. The swans matched the one on her necklace. And she knew this doll. She'd held it in her hands before. "It's stunning," she murmured.
"I don't remember seeing it before," Liz said.
Julia took it out of Liz's hand. She opened the top and found another doll inside, then another one, and another. "It's a nesting doll," she said. "It's called a matryoshka doll."
"What? How do you know that?"
"I don't know how I know that." Julia looked from the doll to her sister, feeling like she was about to fall over the edge of a cliff. "But I know what it is. It's a Russian doll. And it's mine."
Chapter 4
"I need to look through Dad's negatives," Alex said to his mother as she ushered him into the living room of her two-story house in Presidio Heights.
"And good morning to you, too," Kate Manning said sharply. She sat down on a spotlessly clean white couch that took up one wall of the large room, and crossed her arms in front of her. Dressed in a light blue silky pants outfit with a pair of impractical spike heels, she looked very sophisticated. Alex couldn't remember ever seeing her in sweats or tennis shoes, and certainly never without her makeup. She had always been very conscious of her appearance.
Alex sat down in the antique chair across from her, sensing this would not be the easy visit he'd hoped for. Time had not mellowed his mother's attitude, and he was reminded of why he rarely chose to visit her. If he wanted to get anywhere with her, he better backtrack and Start over. "Sorry, Mother. How are you?"
"I'm fine, not that you care. It's been months since we've spoken."
"We saw each other last night."
"Before that. Don't get cute with me, Alex. You don't return my calls. You don't answer my e-mail, and you couldn't be bothered to remember my birthday."
"I sent you a card."
"Three weeks late."
"I was in a remote jungle in Africa. The mail Service wasn't good."
"You always have an answer to everything," she said with a wave of her well-manicured hand. "Just like your father."
Alex sighed. How many times had he heard that phrase? Just like your father . Well, he was proud to be just like his father. But that wasn't an issue he intended to discuss with her. "Do you still have Dad's negatives?"
Her mouth drew
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