Read Online The Unbidden Truth by Kate Wilhelm - Free Book Online Page B

realized, and this one made her look beautiful. Her eyes were shining and high color fired her cheeks.
    â€œThank Dad,” Barbara said. “He’s responsible. And I imagine Shelley was his accomplice.”
    Carrie drew back slightly and said to Frank, “Mr. Holloway, thank you very much. How did you know about the piano?”
    He nodded toward Barbara. “Why don’t you two go inspect the apartment, make sure everything’s there that should be? I’ll have a look at Todd’s posters. Should we cover the cheese?” he asked the boy.
    Todd took the cheese plate inside with Frank following closely behind him. Barbara nodded to Carrie. “I’d like to see the apartment. All right with you?”
    â€œOh, yes. I want you to. It’s the nicest place I’ve had in years, maybe ever.”
    It was nice, Barbara had to admit, and furnished better than her own apartment, with a velour-covered sofa in a deep red, a comfortable brocade-covered chair with a good lamp, end tables, a small bookcase, television and an upright piano. A Scandinavian rug in a geometric pattern of gold and deep blue finished the room. A folding screen separated the living room from the kitchen space. The bedroom was smaller, and crowded with the bed, a dresser and a bureau. A quilted comforter with forest-green trees covered the bed that even had a tailored dust ruffle.
    Shelley had done it all, Barbara knew. Good taste, everything harmonious, in scale with the size of the apartment.
    Carrie said it didn’t need a thing. The piano was a rental,and the television was from Shelley’s house. She hadn’t used it in months, Shelley had said, and it was good that someone would get some use out of it.
    After she had shown it all to Barbara, Carrie said, with a touch of shyness, “Last night, when I was getting ready for bed, I cried. I mean it just hit me, what trouble I’m in, and that you guys are there for me. I haven’t cried in years. I can’t remember the last time. I think I needed that.”
    Helplessly Barbara felt her icy fury melt away in the face of Carrie’s gratitude. But she would get him, she told herself; she would fix that old fox one of these days.
    Â 
    When Barbara returned to the patio Frank and Todd were having a discussion about training cats. “I doubt that you can,” Frank said. “I didn’t teach those monsters at the house to retrieve. It was their game from the start. It might help if you keep a little catnip handy, and the first time Nappy brings something back to you, reward him. I’ll bring you a start of catnip. I grow mine in a cage, to keep the brutes from eating it down to the ground and digging up the roots. Anything that makes it above the cage is fair game.”
    He glanced at Barbara, then hurriedly away. “Everything all right up there?”
    â€œIt’s fine,” she said.
    â€œWhat kind of cage?” Todd asked.
    Frank described his wire cage, and Barbara sipped Darren’s wine. Carrie had started to play. It was faint, not intrusive, and very pleasant.
    When Darren joined them, he started the grill, apologized for his delay, then said, “Would you object to having Carrie come eat with us?”
    No one objected and he went to invite her. Ah, Barbara thought then, maybe that was the solution to the Darren problem. Darren and Carrie. She could not account for the unexpected twinge of unease the idea brought her.
    Through dinner Frank and Darren carried the conversation; Carrie said practically nothing, and Barbara was polite. Then, eating ice cream with raspberries, Todd asked Carrie, “Why do you keep playing the same thing over and over?”
    â€œDoes it bother you?” she asked.
    He shook his head. “I just wondered.”
    â€œShe’s doing classical scales and key progressions,” Darren said. “Even concert pianists practice more hours than they perform. Isn’t that