Free The Truth About Mallory Bain by Clare Hexom

A red casserole concealed the front of her narrow waist. She opened the screen and stepped outside.
    She glanced at the set table. Judging my work, no doubt. “I see I wasted my time fixing your supper.” She looked me up and down, then tipped her head.
    â€œMaking dinner was thoughtful. Thank you.”
    Her kindness tempted my well-buried ounce of compassion for her to surface. Although. Maybe her gesture was not an act of kindness. Maybe supper was her reason to check up on her single niece spending a weekend at home unsupervised.
    â€œWe invited friends over. Ben went for steak sauce.”
    She blew out a
pffft
when she set the casserole down on the umbrella-covered table I’d set prettily for our guests. A drip of sauce spilled onto the table. I saw her notice but she left it.
    A sudden breeze drifted through, and she paused as it pressed her skirt against her skeletal legs. Our eyes met. She glowered at my concern. Without one word about her thinness, she sauntered over to the lounge area of the veranda.
    â€œThat wind carried a chill,” she said. “We’ll see a thunderstorm later on.”
    I exhaled a little too loudly, I suppose, when she eased herself down into one of the cushioned wicker chairs.
    Go ahead. Make yourself comfortable, because you plan on staying anyway.
    â€œIt’s been too hot of a spring for me. Summer will be miserable,” she added. “The older I get, the more I hate the heat.”
    â€œAnd humidity.”
    â€œAgreed.” She was silent for a long awkward moment. Then she started in. “I hope your mother knows.”
    â€œMeaning?”
    â€œYou entertaining while they’re away. I imagine alcohol will be served.”
    I walked over and placed my hands on the back of the empty chair across from her. I smiled sweetly. “Wine or beer?”
    She tipped her head again. “Neither, thank you.”
    A cluster of graying cloud puffs covered the sun, offering a reprieve from the glare. I shifted my sunglasses to the top of my head.
    â€œYou entertaining while your folks are gone. It’s not right, you know. Especially the drinking.”
    â€œWe are four adults having a nice dinner.”
    â€œI hear you’re serious about marrying Ben. You’re only twenty.”
    â€œTwenty-one. Mom cannot keep a secret from you ever.” “Well. Are you?”
    â€œYes.” I smiled sheepishly. “He hasn’t asked officially with a ring, but he’s asking Daddy’s blessing tomorrow.”
    â€œShows good manners. I sort of like that young man.”
    I moved to the table to finish arranging the place settings and wipe away the sauce. “Jack Harwood and Dana Norris are coming over. You might have met Jack before.”
    â€œCan’t say.”
    â€œYou have met Dana.”
    She uttered a
humph.
“The kooky girl.”
    Judith watched me wind wired ribbon in and around the blue and yellow candles and the small pots planted with scented thyme I had arranged on the table earlier.
    â€œIt takes a good solid year to plan the perfect wedding, Mallory Anne.”
    â€œI imagine it does.”
    â€œYou’ll want the perfect dress.”
    I smiled dreamily. “When I marry Ben, I will wear the perfect dress.”
    â€œI want you to make smart decisions. You get too wrapped up in the moment and you don’t always pay close attention and think things through. You take too much at face value.”
    â€œI do try to make smart decisions.”
    She paused a few moments, keeping her eyes on me. “When I mentioned entertaining, I wasn’t suggesting . . . indecent . . .”
    â€œYes, you were. You enjoy finding fault.”
    â€œDon’t argue.”
    I forced myself into silence. No point listing faults when no good would come of it. Hurting her feelings would bring my mother’s wrath upon me and ruin my mood before finals.
    Judith averted her gaze away from me to the