Free Grave Secret by Charlaine Harris Page A

other people.”
    “Oh.” Mariella looked thoughtful. I hoped she was. I hoped I hadn’t just committed a colossal blunder. I’d told her not to have sex with the boys she was going to date. Then I hadn’t contradicted her assumption that Tolliver and I were doing that very thing. I felt totally inadequate.
    I was so glad to see Tolliver and Gracie waiting for us, I found myself hurrying toward them. Tolliver gave me a funny look, but Gracie was simply impatient.
    “Let’s get our skates!” she said. “I want to skate!”
    After we’d all put on our skates and Tolliver and I’d helped the girls out onto the rink floor, then seen that they were okay when they stuck to the wall railing, we skated off to do a round by ourselves. We held hands and went slowly at first, because it had been a good eight years since either of us had skated. There’d been a rink within walking distance of the trailer, and since it hadn’t cost too much at the time, we’d spent hours there.
    We enjoyed a few rounds together, and then we went back to our sisters, who were already arguing about who was doing the best. Tolliver took Mariella and I took Gracie, and we got them away from the wall and went around with them, slowly and carefully. I couldn’t stop Gracie from falling once, and another time she took me down with her, but she was improving by the time we called it quits. Mariella, who’d played basketball at one of the after-school clubs for kids, had fared a lot better, and she was inclined to brag about it until Tolliver cut her short.
    We were coming off the floor, laughing, when I realized someone was watching us: a gray-haired man about five foot eleven, pumped up and muscular. My eyes passed over him once, and then came back to his face. I knew him. I looked right into his dark eyes.
    “Hello, Dad,” Tolliver said.

Five

    OUR sisters shrunk closer to us, their eyes fixed on their biological father with—at least on Gracie’s part—a mixture of loathing and longing. Mariella seemed more hostile. Her little hands had clenched into fists.
    He wasn’t my father. My feelings were relatively unmixed. “Matthew,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
    He’d been looking at Tolliver and Mariella, his eyes avid. He glanced at me briefly, without affection. Gracie shrunk behind me. “I wanted to see my kids,” he said. “All of them.”
    There was a long moment of silence. I digested the fact that his voice was clear: no slurring, coherent. Maybe he wasn’t using, as he’d told Mark; though I knew it was only a matter of time before he reverted to his old ways.
    “But we don’t want to see you,” Tolliver said, keeping his voice carefully hushed. We drew aside, to get out of the way of other skaters. “We didn’t answer the feelers you put out through Mark. I didn’t answer your letters. I’m willing to bet Iona hasn’t given you permission to see the girls, and she’s their legal mom now. Hank’s their legal dad.”
    “But I’m their real father,” Matthew said.
    “You gave them up,” I reminded him, giving each word a lot of weight.
    “There was a lot of pressure.” He reached out as if he wanted to stroke Mariella’s hair, but she flinched back, still gripping her brother’s hand as if she would lose him if she let go.
    The rink wasn’t really crowded, but people had begun to cast sideways glances at our tense little group. I didn’t give a damn about the spectators, but the last thing I wanted was any confrontation, physical or verbal, in front of the girls.
    “You need to leave,” I said. “We’re taking the girls back to their home right now. You’ve ruined our good time. Don’t make it any worse.”
    “I want to see my children,” he said again.
    “You’re looking at ’em. You’ve seen them. Now go.”
    “I’m only leaving because of the little ones,” he said, nodding toward Mariella and Gracie, who were confused and miserable. “I’ll see you again soon, Tolliver.” And