Free 1 Portrait of a Gossip by Melanie Jackson Page B

a
little,” she said, using the brick doorstop to jam the sill. “But for goodness
sake, don’t go out and get wet unless it’s an emergency. Here, I’ll put out a
little more of your turkey feast dinner.”
    She was smiling when she left her
cabin but it didn’t last. The wind made the last of the lupines dance like
ghosts in the shadows just beyond the porch light, and the urgent whispering of
the trees as the wind and rain rubbed their branches together was enough to
disturb even someone as level-headed as Juliet, so she hurried down the trail
with as much speed as safety would allow.
    Away from town it was black as a
sinner’s heart once night fell, and the rain, while not especially hard, had a
tendency to gather itself on the tree branches and dump cuploads of cold water when shaken by the wind of passing persons.
    The path hadn’t seemed so steep and
uneven in the dry of the day and Juliet had never previously thought that it
should be equipped with a railing, but she decided that night that she would
bring up the idea with Robbie the next time she saw him. The trail was a death
trap for someone burdened with her years, a flashlight, a small plastic bag of
pastry, and an umbrella. Not that the flashlight helped much. The batteries
were low and a firefly would have provided more light. Thank heavens her
neighbors were all home and wasting electricity on their porches. It might keep
her from falling off the trail.
    The mud wasn’t terrible, but she
knew the rivulet of water running down the lowest part of the path was staining
her shoes and she would have to just accept that her white sneakers were to remain
rusty or else pay some enormous amount for a cleaner to get them spotless.
    She decided that white canvas had
been a mistake. She would get some new ones in navy next time she was in town.
    Juliet smelled the pipe before she
made out the barely seen outlines of Asher Temple, sitting on his porch. His
porch light wasn’t on but when the pipe glowed brightest, it lit up his face
like a demon. The effect was unpleasant but he was at least recognizable.
    “Hello, Asher,” she gasped,
stepping onto the shelter of his porch.
    “Miss Juliet.”
    Juliet wondered, as she folded up
her umbrella, why it was everyone insisted on putting “Miss” in front of her
name. It didn’t sound mocking—when others said it—but it made her feel old and
fussy. Did they see her that way?
    “I was in town today and the bakery
had lemon cupcakes. I brought one for your mother.”
    There was a second of silence and
she knew that she had surprised Asher.
    “I don’t want to disturb her if
she’s asleep.” That didn’t seem likely but she was willing to give him an out
if he didn’t want to ask her in. She didn’t really need to speak to Elizabeth
anyway. It was Asher who interested her.
    “No, Mother is still awake. Come
in,” he said, rising. “I think she is making tea.”
    The Temples’ bungalow was very
homelike in spite of Asher’s cubist paintings hanging on the wall.
    “Mother, we have company. Miss
Juliet has stopped in and comes bearing gifts.”
    “Gift, singular. Good evening, Elizabeth,” Juliet said, allowing Asher to help her out of her
coat and to stand her umbrella outside the door. “I hope the cupcake isn’t too
battered. That trail is dreadful in the rain. Pigs on roller skates would have
managed it more gracefully.”
    “Good heavens, my dear. What a
night to be out in! But it is wonderful to have some company to break up the
peace and quiet. I don’t hardly know what to do with
myself on these rainy nights when even Carrie won’t come for a visit, and poor
Jillian is hiding under her bed.”
    She reached out veined and
calloused hands to take the offered bag. The fingers tremored slightly as she opened the small sack.
    “Well, personally I’d say prayers
of thanks for the deliverance,” Juliet muttered without thinking and got a
crack of laughter from Asher and a slight smile from