Leigh Read Online Free Page B

he’d opened himself to her, too. But Leigh didn’t put any of this into words. Again,
     he’d set the tone. They were two adults speaking. So she skimmed over everything and made the expected reply. “You’re right.
     And if she can do it, I can, too.”
    “And remember, you’re not alone. I don’t do what my parents want, either.” He grinned suddenly. “They all think they know
     what’s best for us. My parents are upset that I haven’t enrolled in law school or graduate school yet. They’re afraid I’ll
     get drafted if I’m not a full-time student. But I don’t want to get my masters’ degree now or even a law degree. I haven’t
     decided—”
    “Leigh!” her stepfather called through the falling night. “Leigh, are you with young Frank? Your Uncle Thompson and his family
     are here.”
    “Yes,” Frank answered for them, “we’re coming.” Frank leaned close. “Let’s go back. We should have remembered,” he taunted,
     “that even here at Ivy Manor we’d need a chaper-one.
    She made a sound of irritation. Maybe that’s what had really nudged her into sharing this private time. She didn’t doubt that
     her mother had sent her stepfather to find her, to keep her within her mother’s bounds.
    He leaned close to her ear. “I’ll do what I can to see that you get to the march.”
    Leigh didn’t have a chance to respond because suddenly her stepfather was there, holding out his hand to her. She and Frank
     obediently joined their families in the summer house.But Leigh barely paid attention to what was being said. Frank’s conversation kept going around and around in her mind. What
     did he mean about helping her? What could he do to get her to Washington on Wednesday?
Wednesday, August 28, 1963
    I t was barely morning, and Leigh couldn’t believe her eyes or ears. On Sunday evening, her parents had driven home to jobs
     in northern Virginia. Leigh and Dory had been moved—with Chloe’s apologies—from Ivy Manor to their Grandmother Sinclair’s
     home… for safekeeping. Chloe would not go against Bette, so Grandma Sinclair would take them for the week. Last night, Leigh
     had nearly burst into tears with frustration. How could she get away from Grandma Sinclair’s home? It was impossible.
    Then today’s dawn had seeped in through the sheer yellow curtains and Leigh had heard something at her second-story window—pebbles
     hitting the glass. She looked down to see Frank, who was motioning her to come. She leaned over the sill and heard his murmur,
     “Get dressed, write a note so you don’t worry everyone, and come on. We have to get going.”
    It hit her then. Frank was keeping his promise. He was going to take her to D.C. Equal amounts of guilt and excitement overwhelmed
     her momentarily. Then she nodded vigorously and pulled back inside. Within minutes, thinking of the heat but also of the possibility
     of sunburn, she dressed in blue pedal pushers and a blue-and-white sailor blouse. She scratched a hasty note to Grandmother
     Sinclair, slipped her small white pocketbook into her pocket, and tiptoed down the stairs.
    Outside the day was bright and pleasant, but with a heavy feeling, promising to be another sweltering day. Her heart did flip-flops
     in her chest. Immediately, she glimpsed Frank’s grandparents’ silver Buick up the road, partially concealed by a knot of pines.
     She ran down the drive straight to the car.
    Standing by the car, Frank put out a cigarette, mashing it underfoot. He was wearing a summer-weight suit of tan. He smiled
     at her and opened the car door. “Ready?”
    “You’re taking me? You mean it?” Delicious freedom swelled inside her.
    “Get in.” He ushered her into the passenger seat, then started the car and drove off, quiet and slow.
    “How did you manage it?” Leigh asked, irresistible excitement bubbling up inside her.
    “I told my grandparents that I wanted to go ahead. I had a friend I’d promised to pick up. They’re all taking