Ada Unraveled Read Online Free

long brown hair hanging straight around her
face. Soft blue, even transparent, eyes. High color in her cheeks.
She wore no makeup and her skin was smooth and clear. Plain beauty.
I returned her smile. Hers was as natural as wild birdsong.
    “Welcome Rachel. I hope you found us easily
enough.”
    “Yes, just fine, although the storm had me
worried.” I was excusing my silly hesitations on the way in. Hers
must have been the eyes that I’d felt on me as I’d approached. I
stepped inside.
    “Yes it is forecast to be a wild night, but
should clear by morning,” Hannah Lilly tossed over her shoulder,
her words like a string of soft sounds leading me deeper into the
house.
    Hannah was wearing a nondescript
plum-colored polo shirt and faded baggy cotton pants I could have
sworn were the same brand as my own. Dressed for comfort .
She padded ahead in thick white cotton socks. I noticed she was
limping.
    “The limp is due to a sprained ankle. I was
toddler chasing,” Hannah said, as if reading my mind. Occupational
hazard, I thought. Been there done that.
    To the right of the undefined entrance was a
huge high-ceilinged room with four large couches, and several
chairs and tables scattered around like pick-up-sticks. There was
at least enough seating for twenty. I gaped. At the back of this
open space was the dining area forming an L-shape around what I
assumed were the walls of the kitchen. The dining room table was
enormous, too. Yep. The Stowalls had many children.
    But something was missing in this picture.
Where were those children now? Why weren’t they helping mom and dad
maintain their abode? There were legitimate answers, of course,
like, busy with their own lives, the parents were stubbornly
independent, all living at distant locations. But the condition of
things here spoke of need and not-so-benign neglect. And lack of
use.
    Hannah stepped halfway into the kitchen to
mutter a few words to whoever was there, while I continued my
examination. The couches were covered with a variety of faded
floral fabrics. Lamps listed with shades akimbo perched on odd end
tables, all covered with dust. The whole house had an air of having
served its purpose. Now it was searching for an appropriate ending.
Hannah returned and rescued me from a growing melancholy.
    “Most everyone is in the back where we’ll
quilt. My mom, Ruth, is puttering in the kitchen. Victoria’s too
old to take care of the refreshments, so we all chip in when it’s
her turn to host.”
    “I better lead the way, as there are nine
bedrooms built off the halls every which way. You probably noticed
that as you drove up. You might get lost, or stumble on one of the
many dark secrets hidden in them.”
    I stared at her.
    “That was a joke. This way,” she said and
turned, never cracking a smile. Dry. Very dry humor.
    And paranoid. Very paranoid, I chided
myself. I silently followed her lead down a hall running south off
the living room. We passed two opposing closed doors. We turned
left down another hall. This one ended at the front of the house
with a French door that opened to the outside but had clearly been
overgrown by some of those dead bushes the Stowalls used for
landscaping. A bit of my own humor.
    Before reaching that dead-end door however,
we made a quick right onto a longer hall with more closed doors. I
was suddenly certain I would never find my way back.
    “Breadcrumbs,” I muttered.
    “No. Too many wild birds,” Hannah
quipped.
    Also very quick.
    With all the land, why didn’t they just
build the house in a straight line?
    The only lighting for these bending halls
was coming from little wall lamps fashioned like imitation candles
with miniature parchment shades, and a glow emanating from the
floor. Light was seeping from under the closed doors.
    I’d noticed that when I drove up, come to
think of it. All the windows were lit. Were they all occupied?
    “Victoria lives alone now and I think she’s
afraid of the dark, so all of the rooms