Little Red Lies by Julie Johnston Read Free Book Online

for you to get out and socialize. Vera Carrington seems like such a nice girl. She spoke to me in the street the other day and asked if I thought you would like to go to choir practice with her sometime.”
    “I can’t think of anything I would enjoy more, unless it would be having spikes driven up my nose.”
    Mother ignores him. “There are other girls in the world besides Mary Foley.”
    “Can’t think of any nicer ones.”
    “People should marry within their faith.”
    “I thought we were discussing a party.”
    “You know what I’m talking about.”
    This is too good to politely ignore. “Mixed marriages never work. Stick to your faith or be a jerk.”
    “Rachel, this is not a joke. Go upstairs and wash your hands, and come down and set the table.”
    I flounce out of the kitchen but perch halfway up the back staircase, still within earshot.
    “If a girl is brought up to believe that the communion bread and wine actually turn into the body and blood of Christ,” Mother says, “then what’s left to talk about? You’d never change her views if you discussed them all night.”
    “If I marry her, we might have other things to do at night than argue about the body and blood of Christ.”
    On the back stairs, I’m trying to smother a giggle without sounding like somebody strangling.
    “Don’t be vulgar, Jamie. I’m talking about marriage in general. Many a high school sweetheart has ended up a naive bride, thinking time and love is the balm to soothe all cares.”
    What the heck is she talking about?
I can’t resist. “Do you mean marriage is a time bomb?” I call out. “I don’t get it.”
    “Rachel, I was speaking to your brother. Come and set the table for supper, as I asked you to do ten minutes ago. Wash your hands first.”
    I stomp up the stairs to the bathroom loudly singing, “Here comes the bride, fair, fat, and wide.” I’ll probably get my hair yanked later. Mary Foley is a little on the pleasingly plump side. “Here comes the groom, skinny as a broom.”

CHAPTER

6
    In a small town like Middleborough, neighborhoods are fairly close. People walked everywhere during the war and still do. Jamie and I drop by Mary’s and then head to the Carringtons’ stately brick home, shivering as we go. At least, I am. It’s impossible to dress for the weather at this time of year, especially when you want your clothes to scream sophistication and charm.
    “It’s going to be pretty flat without Coop here,” Jamie says as Mary rings the doorbell.
    “A couple of other guys didn’t make it home, either,” Mary says. “Coop isn’t the only one.”
    “I know.” Jamie’s voice holds a tinge of exasperation.
    “I don’t think you need to remind him,” I say.
    “I just feel kind of guilty about being here,” Jamie says, “as sound as if I’ve never been over there.”
    “You’ve got a gimpy leg, for heaven’s sake,” I say. “What more do you want?”
    The door is opened by Hazel, who bleats a welcome and bellows to her sister, “More guests!”
    Loudness must be a family characteristic because Vera bellows back, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Anyway, it’s your turn to take their coats upstairs.”
    “No, it isn’t.”
    “We can take them up,” I say, my voice a mere whisper by comparison.
    “You can help me,” Hazel hollers as she and Vera practically rip the coats off our backs. “I need a chance to talk to you, anyway.”
    Oh, oh. Why?
Immediately, my arms start to itch with little pinpricks of nervous fear. Will this be about
Rachel, the hard-hearted woman
? Is Hazel just getting around to blasting me for sounding so mean to her when she bungled her lines?
    We dump the coats on a bed covered in coats and sit down on top of them. I scratch; Hazel sighs.
    “I need you to help me,” she says.
    “Me?”
    “I wonder if you could come over sometimes after school and help me rehearse my lines? I can’t seem to get them into my head.”
    “I’m sure it just takes