Walk on Water by Laura Peyton Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

their faces.
    “You get settled in,” Beth said, opening the door to Lexa’s old room, “then come down to the kitchen and join me.” She bustled off without asking a single question about her granddaughter’s unexplained appearance.
    What’s to ask? Lexa thought, sighing as she opened her bag on the bed. It’s Blake, not rocket science.
    Walking into the attached bathroom, she changed into plaid flannel pajama pants and a thermal henley, then stood and stared at herself in the mirror. Nothing about that bathroom had changed since she was five years old—not the ornate fixtures, not the pink-and-gold-curlicues theme, not even the pink towels—but she was unrecognizable. She could barely remember the little girl who had stood on a stool to reach this sink. She didn’t see her reflected at all.
    The door at the other end of the bathroom was closed, as usual. A thick robe hung from a hook on its back. Lexa added the robe to her outfit, then haltingly opened the door.
    Kaitlin Lennox’s girlhood room was still the way she had left it the day she’d run off to elope. Beth had cleaned up the chaos of that departure and removed the photos of Blake, but everything else was the same. Kaitlin’s medals and trophies gleamed in carefully dusted cases. The open closet doors displayed her most beautiful skating costumes, preserved behind plastic now. The room had become a shrine.
    Lexa made a slow circuit through the familiar displays, not touching anything, reluctant even to make a sound. There wasn’t a shred of evidence for her existence in that room. Time had stopped in this speck of the universe, yet Lexa could never breathe the stale air there without wondering if the place held her future as well as her past. Would she ever be as successful as her mother? As happy? As loved?
    Would she die as young?
    With each passing day the face in Kaitlin’s final photos looked more like Lexa’s own. Lexa was no longer a child visiting a grown-up’s room, but old enough to envision inhabiting it herself. In less than three years, she’d be older than her own mother. The thought filled her with urgency and a creeping sense of despair. Backing out silently, she went down to the kitchen.
    “There you are, kitten!” Beth lifted a pot off the stove and poured out a mug of hot chocolate. “Marshmallows or whipped cream?”
    Lexa pulled up a barstool. “Both.”
    Beth had clearly been busy while Lexa dawdled upstairs. In addition to the cocoa, she had mixed up a batch of peanut butter cookie dough and had cookie sheets standing by. She paused with the dough scooper in her hand. “Should we nuke popcorn too?”
    “G-mom, I’m surprised you even have all this stuff in the house. You do know it’s junk food, right?”
    “How often do you spend the night? We’ll eat extra vegetables tomorrow.”
    “Okay.”
    “So you’ll still be here then?” Beth asked hopefully.
    “If you still want me. Do you have any chocolate chips to add to those cookies?”
    “As a matter of fact, I do.”
    They had a hard time choosing a movie. Beth’s huge collection extended back through DVDs into videotapes, but she kept suggesting movies about ice skating, and Lexa was finally forced to admit that not only didn’t she want to think about skating, she was more in the mood for explosions.
    “Star Wars?” Beth proposed. “They blow up a whole planet in that one.”
    “Now you’re talking.” Lexa sank into the recliner and pulled an afghan up to her chin.
    Two mugs of hot chocolate and way too many cookies later, the tape was on Rewind and Beth finally asked the obvious question.
    “What did Blake do this time?”
    “He didn’t do anything. He’s just being Blake.”
    Beth’s smile indicated the insult had found an appreciative audience. Shifting lengthwise onto the sofa, she leaned back into the cushions and crossed her slippered feet. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I have a proposal for you.”
    “A proposal?” Lexa