Read Online Hush Hush by Laura Lippman - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura Lippman
Tags: USA
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They were even loving to Joey, especially Ruby. But they acted as if Felicia didn’t exist. No, as if she were—a fart , and they were ignoring her out of kindness, the way a trainer attempts to do in all but the most extreme cases of flatulence.
Stephen, in fact, had let go with the most amazing fart, in terms of sound, when Felicia was stretching him out one night. It couldn’t be ignored. After a split second, he had laughed at himself, and she had joined in. She sometimes thought that was the moment she started falling in love with him. When he farted in her face.
Maybe that wasn’t the best basis on which to begin a relationship.
But, no, be fair: The relationship had begun with a bouquet of peonies, underneath a cold February sky hard with stars. Later, she would hear the story—although not from Stephen—about how he had proposed to his first wife, the ring dangling from the tree, the friends and family hidden inside the boathouse. Stephen’s mother, Glenda, had told Felicia that story, saying dryly: “Stephen always did like to make a production of things.” What was her point? That Feliciawasn’t so special? Or that a beautiful beginning was no protection against a bad ending? Felicia thought the real issue was that Stephen’s mother, a widow since he was small, didn’t want to share her son with anyone. Glenda Dawes had nothing good to say about Melisandre, and she had given Stephen an earful when she found out he was going to let the girls decide if they should be filmed with her.
A lusty cry on the monitor—the morning nap was over. Felicia hadn’t accomplished a single thing. Joey was her accomplishment, she supposed. If she had once been proud of Stephen’s body, she now felt that way about Joey a hundred times over. She had formed him, cell by cell. Her pregnancy had been an ecstatic time, so joyful that she considered being a surrogate. But now that Joey was on the outside of her—
A louder, more insistent cry rising to a wail. You couldn’t say “Just a minute” to a baby, and even if you could, Joey would never hear Felicia in this vast, sprawling house. He didn’t yet understand that she was a separate person, independent of him. She was his, he was hers. Maybe he would give her peonies one day. Lord knows, it had been a while since Stephen had. Last month, February 15 had come and gone without any acknowledgment from him. Felicia had ended up putting away the card and gift she had bought for him, not wanting to be caught out in her yearning. Turned out February 15 was for suckers, too.
12:30 P.M.
Alanna had cut school lots of times, but usually with friends and in the most benign and banal way possible. Going to Eddie’s for sandwiches, sneaking out to someone’s house for a smoke. Benign and banal was Alanna’s phrase for what they did. B-and-b , she said, how utterly b-and-b , and her friends laughed. Alanna had a lot of friends,yet no idea why they wanted to be her friends. She assumed it was because they were scared of her. Why were they scared of her? Because she was brittle and smart and because boys liked her so much that it was worth putting up with all her shit. Why did boys like her? Because she was pretty and she scared them, too.
Alanna scared almost everyone in her life, except Ruby and Joey, who was too young to notice her sarcasm. Alanna was the first person for whom Joey had smiled. He patted her cheeks with his messy, gooey baby hands, drooled on her, even spit up on her. She liked that. Other people were always on eggshells around Alanna. When she competed in cross-country, Alanna ran the way she imagined people walked around her. She rose up on her toes as if the ground beneath her were fragile, a thin crust that could give way at any time. Running in this fashion, she won more often than not. Alanna needed to win because athletics were going to get her into a decent college. But Alanna also needed to run, get away. She hated leaving Ruby behind, but her
Stephen, in fact, had let go with the most amazing fart, in terms of sound, when Felicia was stretching him out one night. It couldn’t be ignored. After a split second, he had laughed at himself, and she had joined in. She sometimes thought that was the moment she started falling in love with him. When he farted in her face.
Maybe that wasn’t the best basis on which to begin a relationship.
But, no, be fair: The relationship had begun with a bouquet of peonies, underneath a cold February sky hard with stars. Later, she would hear the story—although not from Stephen—about how he had proposed to his first wife, the ring dangling from the tree, the friends and family hidden inside the boathouse. Stephen’s mother, Glenda, had told Felicia that story, saying dryly: “Stephen always did like to make a production of things.” What was her point? That Feliciawasn’t so special? Or that a beautiful beginning was no protection against a bad ending? Felicia thought the real issue was that Stephen’s mother, a widow since he was small, didn’t want to share her son with anyone. Glenda Dawes had nothing good to say about Melisandre, and she had given Stephen an earful when she found out he was going to let the girls decide if they should be filmed with her.
A lusty cry on the monitor—the morning nap was over. Felicia hadn’t accomplished a single thing. Joey was her accomplishment, she supposed. If she had once been proud of Stephen’s body, she now felt that way about Joey a hundred times over. She had formed him, cell by cell. Her pregnancy had been an ecstatic time, so joyful that she considered being a surrogate. But now that Joey was on the outside of her—
A louder, more insistent cry rising to a wail. You couldn’t say “Just a minute” to a baby, and even if you could, Joey would never hear Felicia in this vast, sprawling house. He didn’t yet understand that she was a separate person, independent of him. She was his, he was hers. Maybe he would give her peonies one day. Lord knows, it had been a while since Stephen had. Last month, February 15 had come and gone without any acknowledgment from him. Felicia had ended up putting away the card and gift she had bought for him, not wanting to be caught out in her yearning. Turned out February 15 was for suckers, too.
12:30 P.M.
Alanna had cut school lots of times, but usually with friends and in the most benign and banal way possible. Going to Eddie’s for sandwiches, sneaking out to someone’s house for a smoke. Benign and banal was Alanna’s phrase for what they did. B-and-b , she said, how utterly b-and-b , and her friends laughed. Alanna had a lot of friends,yet no idea why they wanted to be her friends. She assumed it was because they were scared of her. Why were they scared of her? Because she was brittle and smart and because boys liked her so much that it was worth putting up with all her shit. Why did boys like her? Because she was pretty and she scared them, too.
Alanna scared almost everyone in her life, except Ruby and Joey, who was too young to notice her sarcasm. Alanna was the first person for whom Joey had smiled. He patted her cheeks with his messy, gooey baby hands, drooled on her, even spit up on her. She liked that. Other people were always on eggshells around Alanna. When she competed in cross-country, Alanna ran the way she imagined people walked around her. She rose up on her toes as if the ground beneath her were fragile, a thin crust that could give way at any time. Running in this fashion, she won more often than not. Alanna needed to win because athletics were going to get her into a decent college. But Alanna also needed to run, get away. She hated leaving Ruby behind, but her
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