The Secrets of Peaches Read Free

looking pretty all the time, and throwing the pecan goodies from the royal float at the Pecan Festival Parade on Thanksgiving. But most of all, it meant dancing with the she-devil that was her mom, who would hover over her 24/7, the way she had with Queen Danay. It was the opposite of what she wanted for herself this year, which was smiling for real, leaving her bra off from time to time, and spending as much time as possible with Birdie and Murphy.
    â€œAren’t you flattered?” Eugenie squawked, wedging herself through the window opening next to Lucretia. She looked like one of those parrots that sit on a pirate’s shoulder. That was what Murphy would have said. A tiny smile crossed Leeda’s mouth.
    â€œYes, Grandmom.” Leeda knew she was supposed to love being a Bridgewater beauty. People kissed up to her all the time. It was kind of tiring.
    â€œOh, Leeda, your mother gave birth to you, and just look atthose narrow hips,” Grandmom Eugenie added.
    Leeda wanted to laugh. It was ironic, actually. There was a time she could have tasted being queen because Danay had gotten so much attention from her mom that way, attention Leeda had always wanted. But now Leeda was wise enough to know the great secret—that no matter how hard you tried to be perfect, your mom could be missing love for you that was supposed to be there. Leeda could never do enough to make the love appear. And she was over it. There were other places to find love. She had found it at the peach orchard that summer with Birdie—who she’d known forever but had never really known—and with Murphy. She’d found it while working under the hot Georgia sun, not being perfect at all.
    â€œSit up straight, Leeda,” Grandmom Eugenie barked. Leeda straightened. It was a reflex. Despite her small stature, Grandmom Eugenie had always been huge and intimidating to Leeda.
    â€œLeeda.” Her mom’s voice turned solemn, and Leeda looked up. For an almost imperceptible moment, something real and genuine flashed across Lucretia’s face. It made lines on either side of her mouth and snuffed out her smile altogether. “Leeda, I didn’t want to tell you this now, but I think you should know.”
    â€œWhat?” Leeda said, suddenly anxious.
    Lucretia looked over at Grandmom Eugenie, then at Leeda again. “I went to the doctor the other day and…they found something.”
    Leeda went stiff inside. Stiff and uncomfortable. She wanted to ask what. But she was scared to. The breeze wafted her hair up and away from her face. She stared down at her dangling legs.
    â€œIt’s called hyperhidrosis. It’s very rare.”
    Leeda swallowed, feeling ill. In her family, you didn’t ask questions about deep, unpleasant stuff. She wasn’t even sure she was allowed to ask anything now. But she warbled, “What is it?”
    Lucretia stuck her chin in the air and waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t you worry about that, honey. Just…” She turned serious, ran her fingers along the windowsill thoughtfully. “I’d like…to see you do this for me.”
    â€œI brought my tiara,” Grandmom Eugenie added, producing a tiny tinsel crown from out of nowhere. Leeda could see the tiny shake of her grandmother’s hands as she clasped its thin edges.
    Lucretia tugged on her small platinum hoop earrings to straighten them out. “Being Pecan Queen was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life.”
    Leeda knew this was true. The Cawley-Smiths still had an eight-by-ten glossy of Lucretia-as-queen in a silver frame, signed, on the table by the front door. Murphy said it was a perfect summary of Leeda’s mother’s personality that one of her most prized possessions was a picture autographed by herself.
    â€œPlease?” Lucretia asked.
    Leeda examined the tree’s bark, unsure what to say. The Murphy on her left shoulder told her to run like