A Child Shall Lead Them. Carole Page Gift

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СКАЧАТЬ warm and homey. Like that retro Ozzie and Harriet stuff. A real home.”

      “Thanks,” said Bree. “I think.”

      “I like it,” Marnie went on, clutching a leather satchel in one hand and a canvas bag in the other. Tall and slender, with a coltish energy and grace, she looked like an ordinary teenager in her tank top and oversize bib overalls. No one would have guessed she was over six months pregnant.

      “We can take your things directly up to your room, if you like,” said Bree, nodding toward the stairs.

      “No, I’ll just set them here for now.” Marnie dropped her belongings beside the staircase and ambled across the entryway, her stacked sandals clicking on the marble floor. “This place beats some dreary women’s shelter.” She drifted into the living room and gazed around at the overstuffed sofa and chairs, the oak furniture, and the bay windows letting in sunlight. They could see a profusion of color from the rosebushes lining the front yard.

      Marnie flashed a lopsided smile. She had an oval face with sharp features—a nose too pointed, lips too full, teeth a bit too large. Her long, umber-brown hair looked a bit bedraggled, as if she had got up in the morning and absently smoothed it back from her forehead with her hands. Marnie’s eyes—her most striking feature—were large, wide-set, shadowed at the corners, and a light spring-water blue. They seemed ageless, fathomless, melancholy, yet riveting, as if they were looking beyond the surface at something no one else could see.

      “You sure your dad doesn’t mind putting me up for a few months?” she asked in an offhand voice that failed to hide an undercurrent of anxiety.

      “I’m sure,” said Bree. “You stay as long as you need to.”

      Marnie managed a hard-edged chuckle. “I guess him being a minister makes him want to do nice things for people, like taking in the poor and homeless…and pregnant.”

      “He’s a neat guy,” said Bree. “Funny and warm and caring. You’ll like him.”

      The two crossed the living room to the kitchen. It was roomy, with a sunny breakfast nook and garden window overlooking a sprawling backyard festooned with snow-white calla lilies, bright orange birds of paradise, pink azaleas in porcelain Ming pots, bougainvillea bushes, and a variety of tropical foliage.

      “Are you hungry, Marnie?”

      “Starved.” She smiled grimly. “I’m eating for two, you know.”

      “Then, let’s raid the fridge.” Bree opened the refrigerator door and gazed inside. “Let’s see. We’ve got all sorts of mysterious concoctions hidden in butter tubs, but I’m not sure we want to risk our lives by sampling them.”

      “I’m not fussy…as long as it’s edible and not growing little fuzzy green things.”

      “I can’t vouch for most of this stuff. My dad believes you should never throw anything out until it’s clearly beyond redemption.”

      “Not a bad philosophy,” noted Marnie with a hint of irony.

      Bree nodded. “I never thought of it that way.” She retrieved a large plastic container and peeked inside. “Tell you what. We have spaghetti left over from last night. My sister Frannie makes the best pasta dishes in the world. She does this thing with basil and oregano. I’m no cook, so I have no idea how she does it, but it’s scrumptious.”

      Marnie sat down at the oak table. “I love spaghetti.”

      “Me, too. I’ll zap us some in the microwave.”

      For the next half-hour they sat at the cozy table devouring the last of Frannie’s spaghetti and sipping diet colas. They engaged in idle chitchat for a few minutes, discussing the weather, the house, even Brianna’s job at the counseling center.

      “What’s it like giving out advice and helping people all day?” Marnie asked. “Does it make you feel like a saint? Joan of Arc or something?”

      Brianna smiled. “It’s scary and wonderful all at once.”

      “How so?”

      “Scary when I think I’m responsible for people’s lives. Wonderful when I know I’ve made life better for someone.”

      “Someone like me?”

      “Yes. Someone like you.”

      Marnie lapsed into silence.

      Brianna traced the rim of her cola glass. “I hope you don’t mind, Marnie. I don’t mean to intrude on your privacy, but now that you’ll be living here, I’ll need some information.”

      Marnie twisted a strand of chestnut hair. “Like what?”

      “General stuff. About you. Your family. Your plans.”

      Marnie’s tone was guarded. “What do you want to know?”

      “For starters, where your home is.”

      “I filled out the papers you gave me.”

      “You listed a San Diego hotel.”

      “That’s where I was staying. Until I ran out of money.”

      “What about your family? Where do they live?”

      Marnie lowered her gaze. “That’s not important.”

      “But it is. If we needed to reach them for some reason—”

      “Leave them out of it,” said Marnie sharply. “They have nothing to do with me anymore.”

      “Because you’re pregnant? Did they force you to leave home? That’s what you implied when you first came to see me.”

      Marnie sipped her cola. After a moment she looked up, her eyes shadowed, her lips tight, as if she were willing herself not to speak lest she say too much.

      “Marnie, if I’m going to help you, I need to know the truth. Please. I’m on your side.”

      Marnie licked her chapped lips. Without makeup, she had a winsome, childlike face. She was still twisting her hair, so tightly that the tip of her finger had turned white. At last she met Brianna’s gaze. “Truth is, my folks don’t know I’m pregnant. When I started to show, I just wore frumpy clothes. No one could tell. I wouldn’t even admit it to myself until a couple of months ago. When I told my boyfriend, Sam…Sam Dillard—we were both sophomores at San Diego State—when I told him, he told me to get rid of it. Just like that. He didn’t even think twice about it. Just said he didn’t want anything to do with a baby. It was my problem.”

      “Couldn’t you tell your folks?”

      “You kidding? My parents are…you’d have to know them…they’re like, totally perfect. I mean, that’s how they act, like they can do no wrong. You should see them. Rigid and unbending as a ruler. They expect perfection from everyone. No one can please them. Especially me.” She gnawed on her lower lip, her gaze downcast. “Of course, my brother is another story.”

      “Your brother?”

      “Eric. СКАЧАТЬ