The Sweetest Thing by Elizabeth Musser Read Free Book Online

a small book into my hands and whispered again, “I will be praying for you.” Then she was gone.
    Patches from the Sky was written across the front of the book. For some reason, I looked up and saw exactly that—patches of blue sky peeking through the big white billowy clouds. A sun ray pierced the scene, descending in a see-through stream of light. I clutched the book more tightly and whispered, “Thanks.”
    Somewhere deep inside, I felt a momentary flicker of hope. Then it faded. But I held tightly to the memory of how that fleeting glimmer of hope had felt.
    â€”——
    The day after the funeral, Mr. Robinson, Daddy’s good friend and our accountant, came by the house. He knocked on the door, and when Mamma opened it, he stood there, timidly holding his hat in his hand, his head bent down. He was a small man, slim with graying hair and thick wire-rimmed glasses. I had always thought of him as stiff and boring, but on this day, he looked bent over with grief, completely stricken.
    As soon as I saw him, I felt fury. You knew Daddy. You knew all about his finances. Why didn’t you do something to help him? Surely you could tell. It’s your fault!
    And to Mamma I wanted to scream, Why did you always try to make it seem okay? It wasn’t okay! It’s your fault!
    â€œBill,” Mamma said, obvious relief in her voice.
    I knew right away this wasn’t a call for condolences. Mr. Robinson had come to the house with his wife several times over the weekend and attended the funeral. He had come on business. I stuck right beside Mamma, because if we were going to talk money, I needed to be there.
    Mamma didn’t know a thing about the finances. Figures confused her, but I loved math. Daddy always helped me study for my tests, and when I was twelve or thirteen, he started showing me the financial books. A pain seared me with that thought. Did my dear Daddy, the one who was my confidant, did he know all along he was planning to leave us? Is that why he had patiently trained me over the years? I clutched my stomach.
    â€œAnne Perrin—are you all right?”
    â€œIt’s nothing, Mamma. I’m just having a hard time.”
    â€œYou don’t have to stay with us.” But her eyes told me differently.
    Mr. Robinson painstakingly went through the books, explaining each holding, each stock, each piece of property. And after each one, he’d remove his glasses, look up at us, and say the same phrase—“I’m afraid this isn’t worth anything now.”
    Mamma nodded every time, but I could see she didn’t understand.
    I did. I understood exactly what he was trying to say in the most delicate way possible. We’d lost everything. Everything.
    At one point, Mr. Robinson laid his ledger down and looked at Mamma, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Dot, I assure you that we are going to do everything in our power to keep the house from being repossessed.”
    I felt my stomach lurch again. Repossessed!
    The doorbell rang, and Dellareen went to answer it. A moment later, she came in the room. “Miz Singleton,” she said softly, and Mamma got up, as in a trance, and went to the foyer.
    â€œWe’re ruined, aren’t we?” I asked Mr. Robinson.
    He frowned, wrinkled his brow, and said, “Perri, your family’s holdings have been greatly compromised.”
    â€œWhat are we going to do? Mamma can’t work—she doesn’t have a skill.”
    â€œYour father was well loved and well respected. We, his friends, will not let you down.”
    I didn’t believe him.
    Mamma came back in the room, clearing her throat. “Perri dear, Mary Dobbs Dillard is here to see you.”
    â€œMe?”
    Mamma nodded.
    I got up and met Dobbs in the entrance hall.
    â€œHey,” she offered.
    â€œHello.”
    She was wearing a crisp white blouse and riding jodhpurs that hung on her skinny frame—clothes Mrs.