Allie's Moon Read Free

betrayed a
shadow of moping disbelief. Clearly she thought she’d missed having
a grand time.
    “ I’ll fix us an early supper,” Althea
said with forced brightness. “I left a kettle of soup simmering on
the stove.” It was a challenge to get Olivia to do more than pick
at her food, especially if it was something she didn’t care for—and
that seemed to be just about everything. “Are you feeling
hungry?”
    She shrugged. “I guess. But pie and tea
would’ve tasted better.”
    “ We’ll go another time.” Then
remembering her stop at the general store, she tantalized, “I
brought you a surprise.”
    Immediately Olivia perked up, and her hazel
eyes widened liked a child’s. “What?”
    Sometimes it was difficult for Althea to
remember that her sister was twenty years old. She seemed more like
a young girl, one whose mind was incapable of a grave or dark
thought. Unless a bad case of the “mopes” was upon her, of course.
Then she could be downright gloomy.
    Olivia rose from the bench and clasped her
hands at her waist. “Oh, did you bring a music box, or maybe those
garnet eardrops in the jeweler’s display window?”
    “ Good heavens, Olivia!” Althea said,
and laughed. “Those are the kinds of gifts people give for
birthdays or at Christmas. It’s just a little surprise.”
    She sank back to the piano bench with a
rustle of her blue skirts. “Oh. Yes, of course, you’re right.”
    Althea searched her dress pocket and withdrew
a pair of bone hairpins. “I got these at Wickwire’s. You’re always
losing yours and I thought you could use them.”
    She took them from Althea’s outstretched hand
and put them on top of the piano. “Thank you.”
    “ Maybe we can go into town next week,
after the repairs are started. We can shop and have lunch at the
café,” Althea offered.
    Olivia nodded, her face still reflecting her
disappointment.
    Althea made her exit to the kitchen, anxious
to get away. After tying on her apron, she went to the table and
began cutting careful slices from a loaf of fresh bread. The rich
smell of simmering beef soup filled the room.
    Olivia followed her to the stove and lifted
the lid on the pot of soup Althea had made. “We could have a picnic
on the grass tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be fun?” She looked up at
Althea, her face suddenly full of excitement. “You could make
little sandwiches with the crusts cut off, and potato salad and
cake. Then afterward you could read aloud to me, just like when I
was little, remember?”
    Althea walked to the stove and spooned some
of the soup into a flowered tureen. “Not tomorrow, Olivia, maybe
the day after. And I remember very well. But we’ll probably have to
sit on the back porch.” She nodded in the general direction of the
yard. “The grass is too tall and still too wet to sit on.”
    “ Oh, is it? I hadn’t noticed.” Olivia
glanced outside, and her face fell into sullen lines again. “Maybe
the man you hired will cut it down for us when he comes
out.”
    It didn’t happen all that often, but when
Olivia got into the mopes she could be so trying. Of course, Althea
supposed she couldn’t blame her sister; she had suffered from frail
health off and on since her childhood. Father’s death had sent her
into a frightening decline in which she had lingered for almost
three years. Despite the fact that Dr. Brewster had never found a
medical reason for what he dismissed as Olivia’s hysterical
convulsions, Althea had not completely abandoned the hope that her
sister might someday grow well enough to marry and lead an
independent life. But deep in her heart, Althea didn’t believe that
was likely to happen.
    Lane Smithfield hadn’t understood the depth
of her devotion to Olivia when he’d come courting Althea. In fact,
he’d once even confided to her that he doubted the seriousness of
Olivia’s condition. Then one Saturday evening while the three of
them sat at the dinner table, as if to prove him wrong, Olivia