Return to Sullivans Island by Dorothea Benton Frank Read Free Book Online Page B

fingertips left white marks wherever they gripped her upper arms.
    Timmy cleared his throat and said, “Now, Allison, there’s no reason for anyone to get hysterical. I’m sure—”
    “Shut up, Timmy. Freud’s dead, you know, and I’m hardly hysterical.”
    Zing!
    “I don’t think I really heard her tell my husband to shut up, did I?” Mary Jo said, piping up, evidence of a spine no one knew she had. “That’s not nice.”
    “Let’s not be like this, Allison,” Maggie said, ignoring Mary Jo. “I’m sure we can figure something out. The boys have another house down the island and I’m sure they can make room. Mickey? Y’all got an extra bed down at Mary Ellen’s?”
    “Um, I’m Mike now, Mom. Sure, Aunt Allison can even have my bed. No big deal. There’s plenty of room.”
    “Thanks, honey. That’s real sweet of you. Know what, Maggie? You are just as condescending as you were twenty years ago. It doesn’t matter. I have to be in Columbia tomorrow anyway to review the vitamin clinical trials with Geoffrey. I’ll just drive up there tonight and then no one’s inconvenienced.”
    Beth was standing there taking it all in. Allison struggled to say she was leaving as calmly as she could, but anyone could see she was about to blow a major, major gasket. How could the family treat their most famous relative so casually? Did they forget to roll out the red carpet for the Second Coming? Uncle Henry had money but her aunts Allison and Sophie were famous in capital letters, at least in this neck of the woods. For once, Beth agreed with Maggie—Aunt Allison was an egomaniacal pain in the butt. But it was just as true that her Aunt Maggie did egg her on.
    “You just do what you want to do, Allison. You know what’s best for you,” Maggie said in the most patronizing voice she had in her repertoire. “I don’t.”
    “There you have it!” Allison said a little too loudly. “It was good to see y’all even if it was so very, very brief. You coming, Sophie?”
    “Oh dear. Oh shoot. No, I think I’m gonna stick around, Al. I’ll meet you in Columbia Monday if that’s okay with you,” Sophie said.
    “Oh? And just how are you going to get there if I’m taking the car?”
    It was a stupid question, Beth thought. There were any number of ways Sophie could get to Columbia, including hitching a ride with Uncle Timmy since he was headed to Charlotte early Sunday with his clan.
    “Don’t worry about me. I’ll work it out,” Sophie said, and gave her twin a pat on the arm. “Anybody want a glass of cold water? I’m going to get myself one.”
    “I’ll take a beer if you’re buying,” Timmy said.
    “Sure. Come on, Al. I’ll walk you out to the car,” Sophie said.
    Sophie Hamilton was the Smoother, but then she had dedicated her years to ironing the wrinkles out of Allison’s life.
    As they left the room, you could feel the party spirit fizzle because of Allison’s hissy fit. Beth slipped away and back into the kitchen. She had lost her appetite anyway. Too much angst. Cecily was leaning against the sink, picking at her plate of food. Beth looked out the window and watched Allison’s animated rant and Sophie reaching out to calm her at least five times.
    “My entire family is crazy,” she said. “My aunt needs a slap across her Botox face and ten milligrams of something to chill her out.”
    “I ain’t saying nothing, ” Cecily said.
    “You don’t have to,” she said. “I think this crowd needs dessert. Something to sweeten them up. What have we got?”
    The microwave pinged and Cecily put her plate down to retrieve whatever was in there.
    “One step ahead of you.” She showed Beth the Pyrex dish of peach cobbler.
    It smelled delicious. Despite the fact that she was still furious with her Aunt Allison, Beth’s mouth was actually watering.
    Cecily said, “See if there’s any vanilla ice cream in that freezer, okay?”
    “Fine,” she said. There was a large unopened tub of chocolate