Read Online Light from a Distant Star by Mary Mcgarry Morris - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mary Mcgarry Morris
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ESSICA WAS AWAY AT CAMP, “SPECIAL” SUMMER CAMP, SHE’D told Nellie bitterly. The seven Cooper kids had always gone away together for the same two weeks: Camp Lewis, somewhere up in New Hampshire. But this year Jessica was being sent to a camp for special-needs kids—one more reason to hate her mother. Nellie felt bad for Jessica being singled out like that, but she knew her brothers and sisters were probably relieved. Nellie certainly was. As much as she missed keeping up with her shows, she didn’t miss Jessica. Right before she left she’d been acting so nasty that Nellie’d hide in the house when she came banging on the door. Her moods were hard to take, especially when Nellie was feeling pretty low herself.
The “hot” bikes, as she now thought of them, were still in the barn, hidden way in back, omens of disaster. Somehow they had to get rid of them, but Henry wouldn’t even discuss it with her, much less do anything about it. Ever since the incident in the woods all he did was work on his tree house. Life was changing all around Nellie, and no one was doing anything about it. Her family was coming undone. Or at least that’s what it felt like. All Ruth cared about, besides finding her “real father,” was getting Patrick Dellastrando to notice her. She traipsed around the house in bright red lipstick and black mascara so thick her lashes would actually get stuck together. Dolly Bedelia had shown her how to highlight her mouth with deep purple liner, which gave her a kind of clownish desperation and made Nellie sad to look at her. She went out at night in tight halter tops and skimpy skirts with half her butt hanging out. She got away with it by leaving the house wearing a loose shirt and pants over everything. Her sister was teetering on the edge of a dark abyss only Nellie seemed aware of.
Meanwhile, her father was clueless, racing against time, working day and night to finish the history, as if that would solve all their problems. Nellie was beginning to think her mother didn’t want to know what was going on. In fact, she’d even started saying it, that there was only so much she could handle. Because it was summer, business at the beauty shop had slowed down, but the bills hadn’t. Dolly came over all the time now to use their shower. Her hot water was just too rusty, which probably meant a new hot-water tank, her mother worried. The latest bad news came when the store’s ancient key-cutting machine “started going on the fritz.” Key cutting had never been a big moneymaker, but it did bring in customers, who’d roam the aisles while her father fiddled with the temperamental settings, and sometimes they’d even buy things they hadn’t even known they needed. The repair estimate was almost as much as buying another machine, which her mother said made no sense when they’d be selling the place soon. It was clear that their future was in Mr. Cooper’s hands, though he still hadn’t called. Every day when her mother raced home from work to check the answering machine, Nellie wished she’d been nicer to Jessica. Maybe this was her father’s payback.
Even Dolly Bedelia had lost some of her mystique now that she was coming over so much. She loved hanging around the kitchen talking to Nellie’s mother, or if she wasn’t home, to Ruth, who was beginning to laugh just like her and throw up her hands in the same fluttery exasperation when she couldn’t quite get the right words out. Yesterday Ruth had even ordered Nellie out of the room so she and Dolly could speak privately. Nellie tiptoed down the creaky cellar stairs, then teetered on a milk crate directly below them, with her ear at the musty old beams. It was hard to hear much. Dolly was doing most of the talking. About protection. Nellie knew exactly what that meant, and it made her stomach queasy.
T HE JUNKYARD HAD been in the news again. One of the mountains of rubber tires had caught fire—arson, Charlie insisted, people trying to
The “hot” bikes, as she now thought of them, were still in the barn, hidden way in back, omens of disaster. Somehow they had to get rid of them, but Henry wouldn’t even discuss it with her, much less do anything about it. Ever since the incident in the woods all he did was work on his tree house. Life was changing all around Nellie, and no one was doing anything about it. Her family was coming undone. Or at least that’s what it felt like. All Ruth cared about, besides finding her “real father,” was getting Patrick Dellastrando to notice her. She traipsed around the house in bright red lipstick and black mascara so thick her lashes would actually get stuck together. Dolly Bedelia had shown her how to highlight her mouth with deep purple liner, which gave her a kind of clownish desperation and made Nellie sad to look at her. She went out at night in tight halter tops and skimpy skirts with half her butt hanging out. She got away with it by leaving the house wearing a loose shirt and pants over everything. Her sister was teetering on the edge of a dark abyss only Nellie seemed aware of.
Meanwhile, her father was clueless, racing against time, working day and night to finish the history, as if that would solve all their problems. Nellie was beginning to think her mother didn’t want to know what was going on. In fact, she’d even started saying it, that there was only so much she could handle. Because it was summer, business at the beauty shop had slowed down, but the bills hadn’t. Dolly came over all the time now to use their shower. Her hot water was just too rusty, which probably meant a new hot-water tank, her mother worried. The latest bad news came when the store’s ancient key-cutting machine “started going on the fritz.” Key cutting had never been a big moneymaker, but it did bring in customers, who’d roam the aisles while her father fiddled with the temperamental settings, and sometimes they’d even buy things they hadn’t even known they needed. The repair estimate was almost as much as buying another machine, which her mother said made no sense when they’d be selling the place soon. It was clear that their future was in Mr. Cooper’s hands, though he still hadn’t called. Every day when her mother raced home from work to check the answering machine, Nellie wished she’d been nicer to Jessica. Maybe this was her father’s payback.
Even Dolly Bedelia had lost some of her mystique now that she was coming over so much. She loved hanging around the kitchen talking to Nellie’s mother, or if she wasn’t home, to Ruth, who was beginning to laugh just like her and throw up her hands in the same fluttery exasperation when she couldn’t quite get the right words out. Yesterday Ruth had even ordered Nellie out of the room so she and Dolly could speak privately. Nellie tiptoed down the creaky cellar stairs, then teetered on a milk crate directly below them, with her ear at the musty old beams. It was hard to hear much. Dolly was doing most of the talking. About protection. Nellie knew exactly what that meant, and it made her stomach queasy.
T HE JUNKYARD HAD been in the news again. One of the mountains of rubber tires had caught fire—arson, Charlie insisted, people trying to
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