Read Online The Bubble Reputation by Cathie Pelletier - Free Book Online Page B

quick cheerleader’s jump into the air. “Can he stay here, Rosemary?”
    â€œSo, he’s a Philip, is he?” Rosemary asked. The idea of more company than Lizzie was not appealing to her. She wasn’t ready for strangers. “He doesn’t throw shoes, does he?” Lizzie widened her eyes at this, but Rosemary waved the comment away.
    â€œListen,” Lizzie said, and kissed the top of Rosemary’s head. “I’ll tell you all about this tomorrow. Right now I’m going upstairs to curl up in bed and think about Philip and practice kissing the back of my hand.” Rosemary smiled. Maybe Philip would decide not to come after all. “Actually,” Lizzie added. She was picking at a red lump just above her knee that looked like a mosquito bite. “I need to go up to bed, turn out the light, and think about how I’m going to handle this mess.”
    â€œSweet dreams,” Rosemary told her, and hoped that when she herself fell asleep, her own dreams would be a bit sweeter.

THE JUNE CHRISTMAS
    A week and a half into her visit, Lizzie still said nothing about when she planned to leave. She kept in touch with her children at camp and, occasionally, her mother in Portland. But Rosemary noticed that there were no outgoing or incoming calls to or from Charles. Lizzie did announce, much to Rosemary’s displeasure, that Philip Sheppard would be arriving in two days, on Friday.
    â€œThen maybe we should visit my family before Philip gets here,” Rosemary suggested. “He already has enough problems. There’s no need to complicate things for him.” Lizzie, on the other hand, had met the family many times when she and Rosemary piled their things into the orange Rabbit and left the university campus behind them as they headed home to Bixley, forty miles away, for a weekend of Uncle Bishop’s home-cooked meals and warped philosophies.
    â€œMaybe I shouldn’t tell you this,” Lizzie said, “but when I first met your family, I used to think of you as that girl on The Munsters . Remember the one who was out of place because she looked and acted normal?”
    When Lizzie and Rosemary arrived at Uncle Bishop’s, the rest of the family was already there and in the midst of a loud argument. But they quickly abandoned their squabbling at the sight of Lizzie. Uncle Bishop hugged her hardest and longest. He had bowls of pretzels everywhere, pretzels of every shape. Some were circles, some long sticks, some medium-length sticks, some short sticks, some shaped like a baby’s teething ring. There were assorted cheeses, candies, chips, and a dip that looked a bit too violet to be taken seriously. All this extra hostessing was because of Lizzie. Uncle Bishop was very fond of Lizzie, and had even called her several times during Rosemary’s sojourn from society to keep her apprised of the goings-on.
    â€œNow, look here,” Mother said to Lizzie, pulling her down by the arm to get a closer look. “I don’t think you should put geese in that pond.”
    â€œThose curls are as yellow as ever, Mrs. O’Neal,” Lizzie said. Mother forgot all about the perils of her geese and smiled up at this visitor.
    â€œYou tell Aunt Sophie to write,” Mother whispered.
    â€œI can’t believe how you’ve grown!” Lizzie said to Robbie, who had stopped by to say hello before he rushed off on a date. “You were only seventeen the last time I saw you.”
    â€œHe’s got a degree in biology now,” Rosemary said proudly.
    Miriam had never been happy with any attractive woman, and she was less than pleased with Lizzie’s precise features and thick auburn hair. And it didn’t serve Raymond well to stare openly at Lizzie, but he did just that, and with such obvious admiration that Miriam finally said, “This is my husband, Raymond.” Raymond eagerly offered Lizzie his hand.
    â€œOh, yes, I’ve met