Read Online The Splendour Falls by Unknown, Rosemary Clement-Moore - Free Book Online Page B

I said, trying to be nice. The coffee table was piled with pizza boxes and greasy paper plates, and my stomach growled. Maybe Paula would think it was Gigi.
    But she was too focused on the pile of boxes to notice. ‘Who said y’all could order pizza?’
    A tall, slim girl, probably about my age, sat in an upholstered chair, her legs thrown over one of thearms. Her skin was creamy brown and her face could have been on any magazine – large, tilted eyes; high cheekbones; lips that women in my mother’s circle paid a fortune for.
    Her expression, however, bordered on aggressively petulant. ‘Don’t blow a gasket, Paula. The guys were famished, so Mom said it was OK. She’s got sandwiches and stuff in the kitchen for y’all.’
    I tried to process that. ‘Mom’ must be Clara, the business partner in the B&B endeavour. And if that was true, then this must be Addie, whom Paula had mentioned in the car.
    â€˜Or,’ said Shawn, ‘Sylvie could eat in here with us. There’s still plenty left.’
    â€˜That’s a fine, hospitable introduction.’ Paula set her hands on her hips. ‘Cold pizza on the floor of the den.’
    â€˜We’ll give her a seat on the couch, Miss Paula.’ Shawn cajoled her with easy humour, and I could see her sense of propriety unbending under the influence of his smile. ‘Don’t you worry.’
    Gigi had nosed her head out of the bag, audibly sniffing the pizza-scented air. ‘Oh my gosh!’ A redhaired girl jumped up with a squeal and hurried towards us, climbing over two classmates and their books. ‘What an adorable doggie!’
    The squeal made my eye twitch, but Gigi accepted the attention as her due. Without asking, Red started petting her, and in a moment another girl had joined us, creating a logjam in the doorway.
    â€˜What’s her name? Is she a Chihuahua? I’ve neverseen one with fluffy hair like that. Look at her riding in your purse, just like a little movie star.’
    â€˜I don’t think a movie star would be caught dead riding in a bag from Petco.’
    She missed my sarcasm – too busy petting Gigi – but it got a laugh from Shawn.
    An older woman appeared in a second doorway, drying her hands on a dish towel. She was dark-skinned and tall, and the bone structure of her face showed through the padding of middle age – she was definitely related to Armchair Girl. Addie, rather. These people seriously needed name tags.
    â€˜I thought all that commotion might signal the Union’s arrival,’ said the new woman.
    That joke was going to get really old, really fast. I didn’t say anything, though, because the woman had friendly eyes to go with her matronly figure. ‘Welcome to Bluestone Hill, Sylvie. I’m Clara.’
    â€˜Nice to meet you,’ I answered automatically, my brain slow with fatigue and information overload.
    â€˜I’ll fix you a sandwich, or we can reheat some pizza.’ She smiled kindly. ‘Either way, there’s cobbler and ice cream for dessert.’
    â€˜Oh my gawd,’ said one of Gigi’s worshippers. ‘Clara makes the best cobbler anywhere.’
    â€˜All right then,’ said Cousin Paula as she turned to me, ignoring the two girls still fussing over Gigi. ‘You sit in here and get to know everyone for a bit. And for heaven’s sake, kids, I hope you’re all using napkins and not my rug to wipe your fingers.’
    â€˜Gawd, Paula.’ Addie rolled her eyes so hard thather whole head moved. ‘None of us was raised in a pigsty.’
    â€˜Fine,’ Paula answered tartly, fists on her hips again. ‘But you’re running the sweeper in here tomorrow after school. Now, y’all be nice to Sylvie and make sure she gets something to drink.’
    My cousin headed for the inside door. Clara gave me an encouraging smile and followed her out – missing Addie’s second eye