Free Trouble With the Truth (9781476793498) by Edna Robinson Page A

through with pictures.”
    â€œOh, you’re going to do a play!” Ben gifted her with his own preference.
    â€œI’ve never been on the stage ,” she said with surprising vigor.
    â€œYou mean you’re retiring at your age?”
    I thought she was between thirty and thirty-five, which I didn’t consider young. Actually, she was thirty-eight.
    â€œI’ve been retired—since the stinkeroo before the last. And that’s just dandy with me. No more skin off my nose.” She laughed and Ben did too, though I could tell he didn’t see what was funny any more than I did.
    â€œI don’t think I’ll ever retire,” he said. “I’m going to be an actor, you know.”
    â€œNow, I know.”
    â€œWhen I’m too old for leads, I’ll play character roles. Some of the greatest roles are character roles.”
    â€œIs that right?” she said, smiling an easy warm smile that had a touch of pity in it. It was the first of countless times that I imagined that Ben was younger than I. He didn’t understand her smile, and she knew he didn’t.
    â€œOur father isn’t retired, and he’s sixty-eight,” I said, thinking out loud. “But then, he didn’t start working until he was forty-five.”
    â€œHonest?” she said. Her big eyes had the same round naïveté as some of my earlier confidantes’ at my tall tales.
    â€œOur mother’s dead,” I volunteered.
    Any other time I’d told that to a grown-up, I’d felt that I should sound sad about it. But strangely, this woman gave me the feeling that you could tell her anything, just the way it was. “But she didn’t die from work ,” I continued. “It was from something wrong with her uterus, after she had me.”
    â€œLucresse, for God’s sake,” Ben reprimanded.
    I ignored him. He had tried with every word to hold her interest, and now, for reasons I didn’t know, I had it all. She looked fascinated.
    She said, “And you don’t feel guilty about it? You don’t feel wrong all the time?”
    â€œNo…just most of the time. But not about that . She would’ve died if she had somebody else instead of me , or Ben and me.”
    â€œLucresse!” Ben warned.
    â€œLucresse, you are wonderful, absolutely wonderful,” Felicity said.
    I loved her.
    â€œYou must have a wonderful father.”
    â€œWell…he’s pretty old.”
    â€œLucresse, gol-ly!” Ben pleaded.
    â€œTell me, why does he want to meet me? The truth.”
    Ben and I became dumb. We didn’t want to put this striking new acquaintance on a commercial basis. Finally, Ben spoke. “It’s sort of a business deal.”
    â€œHe wants to get you started in pictures?”
    â€œOh, no,” Ben said.
    â€œWhat does your father do?”
    I recalled one of the titles he’d once used. “He’s a merchant.”
    â€œThen he wants to sell me something.”
    â€œOh, no,” Ben said.
    â€œSo what’s the big mystery? You’re sure it’s me he wants to meet?”
    â€œYes,” I said. “Why don’t you come home with us and find out all about it?” I wanted to be around when she and he got together. “Come for dinner.”
    She laughed a throaty laugh. “Thanks for the invite, but I couldn’t possibly.”
    It occurred to me that if she was “Mrs.” Peddicord, there must be a “Mr.” She might even have children, back at the mansion.
    â€œYour husband could come too,” I urged.
    She coughed. “No, Lucresse. He’s not here. I’m here for both of us.” She stood up. “Tell your father he has a very nice daughter and son, and that I don’t want to buy anything. Good-bye.”
    She was already walking, fast, as Ben and I got to our feet. At fifteen yards, she turned and waved and we waved back.
    Ben acted as though