Free Rain by Michael Mcdowel Page B

and Lilah had proclaimed her doom. Caskey children, once given up, were never returned. Lilah Bronze, in that one heedless moment, was lost to Elinor forever.
    Miriam smiled, and squeezed Lilah's hand. "Just for a few weeks," said Miriam. "And then I'll let you go back. Elinor won't rent out your room, I guess."
    No more was said of the matter at the table. Lilah, who thought herself prodigiously smart, understood nothing at all. The occasion—outside of Lilah's own happiness at the prospect of more jewels—turned not somber, but solemn. Something momentous had happened, altogether unexpectedly, and everybody—except the child who would be most affected by it—knew it. Luvadia and Melva continued to bring out plates of hot rolls and to take away empty dishes, and there was talk still of renewed oil leases and proposed trips to Houston and New York. At one point Oscar sent Sammy out to start the car so that it would be warm by the time he wanted to drive up to the golf course in Brewton, but no one thought of anything but Lilah, who had been stolen away in the twinkling of Miriam's acquisitive eye, more quickly and more cleanly than long-armed gypsies could have done it by reaching in an unlatched window and snatching her sleeping from her cradle.
    Oscar didn't wait for coffee; he and Tommy Lee and Sammy drove off to Brewton. Lucille and Queenie went to help Luvadia and Zaddie clean up the mess in the hallway. Grace and Billy started to pack the cars with all the gifts. Elinor remained at the head of the table, with her cold coffee before her. Miriam was on her third cup. She had an arm around Lilah, weary and happy in the chair next to her.
    "You didn't fight," said Miriam.
    "Fight about what?" asked Lilah.
    "Shhh!" said Miriam.
    Elinor slowly shook her head.
    "Why not?" asked Miriam curiously. "You could have fought. You might even have won."
    Elinor paused a long time before answering. One hand was crossed over her breast, the other fingered the black pearls about her neck. "When I gave you Mary-Love's wedding ring..."
    "Yes?" said Miriam, holding up the hand that bore the ring.
    "It wasn't enough, was it?"
    "No," said Miriam, "it wasn't."
    "Wasn't enough for what?" asked Lilah.
    "Be quiet," said Miriam in a slow whisper, pinching Lilah's arm as she did so.
    "But now," said Elinor, "we're even."
    "Yes," returned Miriam. "I guess we are. How's that, Mama? After thirty-nine years, I forgive you."
    Elinor said nothing, she just sipped her cold coffee.
    For the first time in her entire life, Miriam had called Elinor Mama.
CHAPTER 77
The Song of the Shepherdess
    L ilah moved into one of the guest bedrooms of Miriam's house later that Christmas day, "just for a few weeks." Only Lilah herself—of all the Caskeys and most of Perdido—was deceived into thinking that she would soon return to her grandmother and her father.
    Those few weeks passed, and Lilah said to her grandmother, "Miriam and Malcolm said they cain't do without me. May I stay for just a little while longer?"
    "I'll send your things over," said Elinor.
    Lilah's clothes went next door, and soon there was no thought whatsoever—even in Lilah's mind—of her returning. She belonged to Miriam and Malcolm now, and though all the Caskeys atetlinner together at Elinor's every evening, and Lilah saw almost as much of Billy as she had before, she was quite a different child. Miriam pampered her niece, oddly, by neglecting her. Elinor had always kept a tight rein on her granddaughter, for Lilah tended to be forward and precocious, protective of her prerogatives as a Caskey and the richest little girl in the entire county; she was apt to be imperious toward the servants. Elinor had kept these tendencies in check. Miriam did not even try to do so. In her niece, Miriam saw the child she had herself been. She trusted Lilah as she trusted herself. What Lilah wanted was what Lilah needed; what Lilah did was exactly what was required by the situation in question. Lilah, in