Letter From Home by Carolyn Hart Read Free Book Online

will.”
    Barb pressed her fingers against her cheeks. “I guess it was because of the Blue Light.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “Last night Mama and Daddy went to the Blue Light. While they were there, somebody said how Mama was the best dancer in town and everybody loved to dance with her. Daddy got mad. He didn’t know she’d been going to the Blue Light while he was gone. They came home and had a fight. It woke me up. Daddy said she shouldn’t have been going there by herself. It wasn’t nice. Mama said there was nothing wrong with the Blue Light. People could go there and have fun and everybody ought to get to have some fun. Mama can—Mama could dance better than anybody, and she loved to dance. That’s all it was. She wanted to dance. She told Daddy she didn’t think much of him that he’d want her to sit around and never go anywhere and he said she had no call to be dancing with other men and she said what was she supposed to do, just stay at home night after night with no music and no one ever to talk to? She told him that’s all it was, she loved to dance and there wasn’t anything more to it. And she slammed off to their room. Daddy made a bed on the couch. He didn’t get up this morning before we left. But Mama wasn’t mad this morning.” Barb’s voice was eager.
    â€œShe wasn’t?” The chief rubbed his red nose. “What did she say?”
    â€œShe didn’t say much. But she wrote Daddy a note, left it at his breakfast place. She told me she shouldn’t have gotten mad at Daddy, that he didn’t understand, but it would all work out and we’d have a nice supper for him.” Barb’s face creased. “But when I got home for supper, she was mad again. I don’t know why.”
    â€œHmm.” The chief glanced toward the cuckoo clock mounted on the wall over the mantel. There wasn’t a fireplace, but a small gas heater they lit in the winter. “I guess she must have talked to your daddy.” He stared at Barb, waited.
    She held tight to the sheet. “I don’t know,” but her eyes wouldn’t meet his.
    The chief’s eyes never left her face. “You say he wasn’t there when you got home?”
    â€œHe wasn’t.” Barb’s voice was definite. “It was just Mama and me.”
    â€œThen you and your mama had supper?” The chief hooked his thumbs behind his suspenders and gently tugged.
    Barb didn’t answer. She stared down at the crumpled sheet.
    â€œMiss Barb?” The dark green suspenders wriggled over his shoulders.
    Barb didn’t look at the chief. “You had to know Mama to understand—whenever she got mad she talked real fast and moved real fast. She ran into her room and put on a pretty dress, her green rayon with the white flower print. She was carrying her compact when she came through the kitchen, putting on her powder, trying to make her face look like she hadn’t been crying. But she was talking out loud to herself and she ran out the door.” Barb took a ragged breath. “And she was mad because Daddy had the car. She’d got used to having it all to herself while he was gone. But he must have taken it.”
    â€œSo your mama didn’t have the car. Where do you suppose she went?” The chief loosened his suspenders.
    Tears welled in Barb’s eyes. “She had on her dancing shoes. I worried because it’s a long way to the Blue Light. Almost a mile, but I guess she walked.”
    â€œOr maybe somebody gave her a ride. Well, we’ll find out.” The chief folded his arms over his chest. “And you, Miss Barb?”
    â€œI cleaned up the kitchen, then I went over to Amelia’s. Amelia Brady. She’s a friend of mine. I didn’t want to stay home by myself.” She looked down at her hands. “I chipped the polish on my nails. Anyway, I went over to Amelia’s