Aly's House by Leila Meacham

Author:Leila Meacham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2016-10-04T04:00:00+00:00

“Aunt Aly, who was the man at Green Meadows today?”

“A man who grew up in Claiborne. He’s your mother’s age. He lives in New York now.”

“Did you like him?”

“I liked him.”

“Did he like you?”

“No.”

“Then how come you liked him?”

“It wasn’t for the way he treated me, but for the way he treated others that I liked him. Marshall was always very kind and thoughtful to everyone else, especially his parents. He never hurt anyone that I know of.”

“Then how come Mother is afraid of him?”

“Is she, you think?”

“Her hands were shaking when we left, and she didn’t introduce me like she always does.”

“Well, darling, your mother was startled at seeing Marshall. She wasn’t dressed to meet him, you see. We women like to look our best when handsome men from the past come back to visit. You’ll see someday when you’re every bit as handsome as Marshall. You’ll make many a girl shiver and quake.”

“But he has dark hair and I have blond.”

“Well, blond men are handsome, too. Especially, tall, dark-eyed blond men. Now go to sleep, sweetheart. Your compadres are already long into dreamland.”

Later, out on the porch, Aly reflected on the conversation she’d had with her nephew. Was what Peter had noticed in his mother actually fear, panic, or piqued vanity? Aly was almost certain that Victoria and Marshall had gotten together in New York—maybe even had an affair. The knowledge hurt and saddened her—angered her, too. It was clear who had come out on the short end of the stick. Marshall had had his little fling with the beautiful daughter of the man he despised, then cast her aside like a dirty shirt. Scratch a line through Victoria Kingston. Who was next on the list?

The phone rang. She answered it quickly so the children would not be disturbed. It was probably Joe, calling to inform her about his aunt.

But it was Marshall. “Aly? Marshall Wayne. I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“No,” she said, her heart in her throat. “I was still up. What can I do for you?”

“I had dinner with Willy tonight.” Dinner. In the past, it had been supper.

“How nice. What has that to do with me?”

“He told me about Benjy Carter. I owe you an apology, Aly. It’s thirteen years overdue. May I see you tomorrow night?”

Emotions warred within her. She wanted to see him, but she didn’t. This was probably how he had entrapped Victoria. “Well, I—did Willy tell you where I live?”

“No, but I’m sure I can find it.” The tone was somewhat dry. “I’ll take you somewhere for dinner. Jimmy’s still open?”

“Yes. It’s bigger and better than ever.”

“Then let’s go there. Seven o’clock be all right with you?”

“Yes,” said Aly, her mouth dry. “I’ll be ready.”

“So where do I pick you up?”

“At my house, Marshall, here on Cedar Hill.”

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