The Homecoming Baby Read Online Free Page A

able to use the dresses after all.”
    â€œWhat?”
    Trish pointed to the box again. “They returned every one of them. Apparently they think Angelina’s clothes are…tainted.”
    Celia was speechless. She looked at Trish’s pale face, and then she knelt next to the box on the floor.
    She opened it carefully. Inside, wrapped in crisp white tissue, were at least a dozen of the most magical dresses Celia had ever seen. Peacock-green chiffon and Mandarin red silk. Deep gold satin encrusted with pearls. Ivory lace edging lavender ruffles. Wedgwood-blue and sunshine-yellow, sequins and flounces, daring necklines and flowing skirts.
    Celia found herself holding her breath. She’d heard a hundred stories about Angelina Linden—who in Enchantment hadn’t?—but these dresses made the stories come almost eerily alive. As she touched these fabulous fabrics, she understood that Angelina had been exquisite and sensual, daring and vain and elegant. She’d been in love with life, color, movement, texture, sex.
    And with an uncomfortable flash of insight, she realized that it was no wonder the Women’s Club had rejected them. Everyone who saw these dresses wouldask the same question. Had she been wearing one of these that night? That terrible, bloody night the baby was born?
    Even Celia, who loved poor Trish so much, found herself imagining that night. And wondering how a girl must have suffered, starved, squeezed her poor young body to fit it into her normal clothes when she was nine months pregnant.
    A small catch in Trish’s breath warned Celia that tears were near again. Celia fought back a wave of fury toward the judgmental old bats who had refused these dresses. It was too cruel.
    Trish deserved to be happy. Someone needed to take her in hand and force her to have a little fun.
    On the spot, Celia appointed herself that someone.
    â€œI’ve got an idea,” she said. She folded the box shut again and stood with a smile. “There’s a full moon tonight. They say that if you stand on Red Rock Bridge at the full moon and make a wish, it’ll come true. Let’s go out and wish that every member of the Women’s Club goes prematurely gray.”
    Trish smiled. “I’m pretty sure the legend says you have to stand out there naked with a live rattlesnake wrapped around your neck.”
    â€œWell, one out of three isn’t bad.” Celia raised one eyebrow rakishly. “Maybe just every third member of the Women’s Club will go gray. That’s enough for me.”
    Trish threw her tissue in the trash, obviously having overcome her momentary weakness. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “We can’t do that.”
    Celia frowned. “Why not? It’s Friday night. If you can’t be silly on Friday night, when can you?”
    Trish didn’t answer that directly, of course. Trish didn’t think that being silly was ever appropriate. Which was why her lovely face was always so pale and faded, Celia thought with a sudden frustration.
    â€œI’m serious. Let’s go out there. We can stop off and buy sandwiches and some white zinfandel and eat dinner by moonlight on Red Rock Bridge. It will be beautiful and pointless and kind of scary—and great fun.”
    Trish was already shaking her head. “I can’t,” she said. “This is the night I pay my bills.”
    Celia squeezed her hand. “To hell with the bills. Be impulsive. Be foolish. It might make you feel better.”
    â€œNo,” Trish said, extricating her fingers. She patted Celia on the shoulder. “Being foolish doesn’t make people feel better. Working does. Being sensible and getting things done makes people feel better.”
    Celia sighed. This was so unfair. And it was such a waste. Trish was only forty-five. She was healthy and intelligent and a very attractive woman. She wanted to grab Trish by the shoulders and say, No.