Free The House on Olive Street by Robyn Carr Page A

simply made her own plans, without checking with Jack. Instead, she said, “Any evening that week is okay with me, if you need to change it.”
    After a short discussion of possibilities, Sable was called into the kitchen to sign off on the caterers. Barbara Ann and Beth were heading out the kitchen door. Elly lingered, waiting for Sable to conclude her business. When she finally closed the door on the caterers andturned to Elly, the older woman seemed to sag as she leaned against the kitchen counter.
    “I’m worried about you,” Sable said. “This has really taken its toll.”
    “Don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than I look.”
    “Those were beautiful words you said for her. Will you do that for me someday?”
    Elly seemed to deflate. She let out a whoosh of air and her face took on more lines. “I hope to God that never becomes necessary! I don’t plan to outlast you, too!”
    “Well, in the event you do, promise me there will be no biography.”
    “I wouldn’t dream of it. Why would I? You’re writing your own life. Listen, I have something for you. I didn’t say anything because there were no individual letters for Beth or Barbara Ann.” Wearily, she pushed herself off the counter and headed back for the living room. Eleanor did not walk so much as clomp. Once there, she simply reached to the floor to retrieve her heavy purse from where she’d left it. She flung the strap over her shoulder before digging around in it. She presented an envelope.
    “Did you read it?” Sable asked.
    “No. It was sealed. In with her vital papers, like mine. I asked Don to let me give it to you personally. You know, because they didn’t get one.”
    “Do you want to wait a minute? So I can show it to you?”
    “How do you know you’ll want to? It might say something like, ‘Be sure to trick Elly into taking her Geritol every day.’ No, not now. I’m exhausted by Gabby’s last wishes. Funny, she never asked much in life. I’ve got to get going. It’s a long drive.”
    “You can stay the night if you’d like.”
    Elly, who was never demonstrative, patted Sable’s cheek. “Thank you, dear. But no. I want my own bed.”
    “Elly, I had some trouble here today.” The older woman’s eyes widened briefly. She hadn’t any idea. “I had my security guy here, serving drinks. I had no idea what to expect. Most of these people were complete strangers to me. And I don’t usually open my house to so many. I found a reporter in my office. He snuck in on the pretense of attending Gabby’s memorial, and went into my closed office. He had a tiny little camera. He was taking pictures of the inside of my house.”
    “Oh God,” Elly said in sympathy. “The rigors of fame.”
    “I guess that’s what made me testy, made me behave as though I was threatening not to attend Barbara Ann’s stupid conference. I couldn’t believe it.”
    Elly shook her head. “Sable, I’m not surprised. I’m sorry, but not surprised. You’ve insulated yourself so well that, while you’re safe from one kind of crackpot, you draw the attention of those god-awful starmongers. You’ve let yourself become too damn mysterious. And unattainable. By not pandering to them at all, you’re a challenge. They’re looking for a story.”
    “What do you suggest I do?”
    “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “This is not my area of expertise. Ask your publicist? Sic your lawyers on him? I just don’t know.” Eleanor’s eyes were droopy; she licked her dry lips. Sable felt panicked by what appeared to be Elly’s deterioration. Eleanor was failing, looking sixty-eight instead of fifty-eight, and Sable needed her. “I’ve got to go home,” Elly said. “Call me if you think there’s any way I can help.”
    “Call me,” Sable said, “if there’s any way I can help you.”
    “Sadly, I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do for me. Like Gabby used to say, ‘When I’m tired, sad and heartbroken, I take a rest and then I come back