The Lost Daughter Of Pigeon Hollow. Inglath Cooper

The Lost Daughter Of Pigeon Hollow - Inglath  Cooper


Скачать книгу
gave him a look. “Twenty-eight is hardly old.”

      “You two sure are different.”

      “That a compliment or insult?”

      “Neither. Just seeing her down at the Top Shelf, she acts a lot older than she looks.”

      “She’s been like that ever since Mom died.”

      Eddie shrugged. “Why don’t you just check out of there?”

      “And what? Live out of my backpack?”

      “Move in with me.”

      Katie frowned. “And your four other roommates?”

      Eddie brushed the back of his hand against the side of her breast. “Hey, I’ve got my own bed. That’s all we need.”

      “You are such a jerk.”

      He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not stupid. I start acting like Joe Nice Guy, you’ll ditch me for sure.”

      At least he knew her.

      Katie stood, shucked off her blue-jean shorts, and made a clean dive into the lake.

      Eddie followed. He came up gasping. “Man, it’s cold!”

      “Weenie.”

      He kissed her again. “I mean it,” he said. “Think about it. Move in with us. We’ll have a big time.”

      She looked at him for a moment, and then said, “I’ll think about it.”

      IT FELT LIKE A REPEAT of the night before. And far too many others in recent weeks.

      Willa sat on the living room couch, hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea, a table lamp the only light. Sam was curled up beside her, his head on her leg. A novel lay open on her lap, but she had no idea what she’d read in the last five pages.

      She glanced at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. Eleven.

      The front door opened. Katie walked through the foyer and headed up the stairs.

      “The principal called,” Willa said quietly.

      Katie stopped on the second step. “Save it, okay?”

      “So what should I do, Katie?” Willa asked in an even voice. “Just let you mess up your life for good?”

      “It’s not your life to mess up. You’re doing a pretty good job with your own.”

      Willa’s grip on the cup tightened. She pressed a finger to her forehead. “How did we get here, Katie?”

      “I’m not your responsibility, Willa,” Katie said, the words a few degrees softer. “I can take care of myself.”

      “Is that it, then? Do you think I should let you quit school? Hang out with guys who are going to lead you down the road to nowhere?”

      “I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”

      Willa stood and walked to the bottom of the stairs. “That’s not what I think at all. I think you’re smart, beautiful and at a very confusing time in your life. But, Katie, the choices you make now are going to affect your future in ways you can’t begin to see from here.”

      “Like the choices you’ve made, Willa?” She tore up the stairs then, throwing out behind her, “At least I’m out there playing the game.”

      WILLA DROVE KATIE TO SCHOOL the next morning. Neither spoke the entire way. Katie kept her headset on, the beat of the music pounding like a muted jackhammer.

      Willa pulled up at the high school’s main entrance. Students loitered around the front steps. “You’ll go by the principal’s office, Katie?”

      “Sure thing.”

      “Two more absences, and you’re going to fail your classes this semester.”

      “That would be a disaster,” Katie said, sounding mildly bored. She got out of the Wagoneer and strolled toward the front entrance, stopping to talk with a trio of defiant-looking teenagers wearing nose rings complemented by varying degrees of purple hair.

      Katie had never seemed farther away.

      AT THE TOP SHELF, Willa pulled into an empty space beside Judy’s old Citation. If possible, it was more of a rattletrap than her own. She got out and waited for Judy who slid out of the car, then slammed the driver’s door. The door failed to catch, so she opened it and closed it again.

      The sleeve of her white sweater slid up with the movement. An ugly purple bruise encircled her wrist.

      Willa touched her arm. “Hey. What’s that?”

      Judy avoided Willa’s gaze. “Nothing.”

      “Nothing? Judy—”

      Judy held up a hand, smiling a little too broadly. “Uh-uh. This problem’s not going on your shoulders.”

      They walked across the parking lot to the diner entrance, both quiet.

      “Are you all right, Judy?” Willa finally asked softly.

      Judy smiled an of-course smile. “Yes.”

      “I really am worried about you.”

      “Don’t be.”

      “How can I not?”

      “You know, if they measured worry in a person’s blood the way they measure cholesterol and triglycerides, you’d be on the operating table.”

      “Judy. I’m serious.”

      “So am I. I’m fine. And we’re talking about you, anyway. Now let’s hear about those circles under your eyes.”

      Willa gave in for now. “I don’t know what to do with her anymore. It seems like the more I say, the worse things get.”

      “Maybe it’s time to let her fall,” Judy reasoned. “My mama always said she could tell me all day long what a bump on the head was going to feel like, but until my own noggin hit the pavement, there was no way I would ever believe her.”

      Willa smiled, pushing through the front door of the diner. Clara Hibber, one of the other waitresses, opened up every morning so Willa could take Katie to school.

      Clara waved from behind the counter. Willa waved back, then looked at Judy. “She’s just so angry. I wish I knew why.”

      “When you’re sixteen, it doesn’t matter,” Judy said. “Anger is just another hormone. You feel justified. But if anybody should be angry, it’s you. You got to be a mother at twenty-one without any of the fun that comes with arriving at that happy state.”

      “I don’t regret what I’ve done for Katie. She’s my sister.”

      “I know you don’t. But for seven years now, you’ve been living the life of your mother. Taking over this place after she died. You didn’t get the chance to be young. Take it from me, the years fly by, and you wake up one day looking at a big sign with Too Late written in big, bold letters.”

      Willa put a hand on Judy’s shoulder. “If that’s your subtle way of saying I need a man, I haven’t seen anything out there worth missing a night with a good book.”

      The diner door opened. The man from yesterday walked in, taking the same table as before. Both Willa and Judy stared for a moment. He looked up. They both got busy shuffling menus and stacking coffee cups.

      “That’s what I call amazing timing,” Judy said.

      “Just take his order.”

      Judy grabbed a pad, handed it to Willa, then bolted, whispering over her shoulder, “Ladies’ room.”

      “Judy—”

      But she was already out of sight. Willa stared after her, made a mental payback note, then walked


Скачать книгу