Give Me Tonight(12)

Addie blinked to clear her vision. A child ap­proached the bed, a skinny girl with gray eyes and long black braids.

"Leah," she said hoarsely. "Is that you?"

Another shy giggle. " 'Course it is."

"Come here. Come closer." The child hopped onto the bed beside her, and Addie touched one of her braids with a trembling hand. Her heart ached and her lips pulled at the comers with an unsteady smile. Good Lord, it is her. Leah! She had never been so stunned in her life. The woman who had raised her, disciplined her, fed and clothed her, given her pocket money, was standing right in front of her. But she was a little girl. She could see Leah in this child's face, could hear Leah in her voice. "Yes, it is you. I can see it. Tell me how old you are."

"I'm ten. My birthday was last month. Don't you remember?'

"No. I don't remember," Addie said huskily. "Why are you crying, Aunt Adeline?"

For you. For me. Because you're here and still lost to me. "Because I love you s-so much." Giving in to a powerful urge, she put her arms around the little girl and held her tightly. It didn't make her feel any better. Uncomfortable and bashful, Leah tolerated the em­brace for only a few seconds before making a move to pull away. Immediately Addie let go and wiped her eyes.

"We're having fried chicken for dinner," Leah said.

"Your dress is all dirty. Are you gonna change?"

Addie shook her head slowly, wondering when all of this would end.

"Aren't you even gonna fix your hair?"

"M-maybe I should." Sitting on the edge of the bed, Addie jerked on her shoes. There was an ivory­backed brush on the painted dresser, and she pulled it through her hair after plucking the pins from the tan­gled mass. Same face, she noted as she looked in the mirror. Same eyes, same hair. "Leah," she said des­perately, turning to face the little girl, "do I look the same to you as I always have? Is there anything differ­ent about me? Anything at all?"

Leah seemed puzzled by the question. "No. Nothin' is different. Do you want something to be?"

"I'm not sure." Addie faced the mirror again and brushed until her hair was smooth. She couldn't man­age any styles as elaborate as those she had seen that day. Using a few hairpins, she pulled the front locks away from her face and let the rest fall down her back. After smoothing her bangs, she set the brush down and squared her shoulders. "I'm ready to go down now."

"Like that?"

"Yes. Is there anything wrong?"

"I guess not."

As they went downstairs, Addie noticed how beau­tiful the house was. The furniture was polished and elegant, draped with lace table covers and embroi­dered tidies for all the chairs and sofas. The curtains were made of expensive coarse linen in shades of chocolate brown and Thrkish red, while the carpets were boot-heel deep. The appetizing smells of food and coffee wafted through the air, awakening Addie's appetite and reminding her she hadn't eaten in a long time.

"There aren't going to be any leftovers when I get through with dinner," she said, aware that her stom­ach was beginning to growl insistently.

Leah wrinkled her forehead. "There aren't gonna be what?"

"Leftovers," Addie said, and as the girl continued to look confused, she realized the word wasn't famil­iar. "Extra food."

"Oh." Leah's brow cleared. They neared the dining room and the sound of easy conversation and clinking dishes. As they came to the doorway, all sound van­ished. Everyone was staring at her. Even Cade had paused in mid-bite. The room was filled with people, most of whom seemed to be family members.

Addie's attention was drawn to a pair of icy green eyes, and she saw that Ben Hunter was seated at Rus­sell's right hand. Ben was looking at her with subtly veiled contempt. His glance encompassed every detail of her appearance, the loose hair and flushed face, the warm and tumbled picture she presented, and a cyni­cal smile touched his mouth. What was wrong? Why was everyone looking at her like that?

The silence deepened, and she stumbled forward to sit at the first empty chair she saw. "Don't you want to sit at your usual place, sugar?" came May's quiet voice. Addie stopped and went to the other side of the table, sinking gratefully into the chair beside May. Her appetite had vanished completely.

"Caroline, fix a plate for your sister, please," May directed, handing Addie's empty plate to a pretty blond woman across the table. Caroline . . . that was the name of Leah's mother. Does that mean she's my sis­ter? Since she'd been cast in the part of Adeline Warner, it probably did. You'll know you're really in­sane when all of this starts making sense to you Addie.

"Heard you had quite a day today," Caroline said, giving Addie a teasing smile. "I also heard you're not tellin' a thing about it. Since when have you started to keep secrets from us? If it weren't for talkin' about your latest exploits, dinnertime conversations around here would be as dull as a Sunday stroll."

"It was quite a day," Addie said cautiously, her eyes darting to Ben Hunter's face. His mouth twisted sardonically before he picked up a roll and broke it apart.

She was relieved as everyone began eating again, and her tension faded a little. Her appetite came back with a vengeance as she received a plate heaped with fried chicken br**sts, steaming potatoes, and string beans glistening with butter. It was difficult to eat slowly when she was this hungry, but Addie didn't want to attract any more attention to herself. As the conversation around the table resumed, May leaned over and whispered in her ear.