Thigh High Read Online Free Page A

every year for such ridiculously small amounts.”
    â€œNot mad, chère.” Calista tapped her forehead. “Clever.”
    â€œCrazy,” Skeeter mumbled.
    â€œWell, my darlings, I’ve got to go to the club.” With a whoosh of sequins and perfume, Daniel tossed his boa around his neck. “I used my seniority to grab the afternoon show so I could be here for the party. Oh, and—” He slid an envelope out of his décolletage. “Here’s a little something to make it extra special.”
    Embarrassed, Nessa turned her head away.
    â€œYou shouldn’t have, Daniel!” But Calista took the envelope and kissed his cheek.
    â€œCan’t wait, darlings!” he called.
    â€œWe’ve got to go hit the streets, too. Mardi Gras is one hell of a”—Ryan observed the aunts’ reproving stares—“one heck of a lot of work, but the tips could keep me for half a year.” He stood.
    So did Debbie. “Wait, Ryan. I’ll walk with you.”
    â€œThat would be great.” Ryan tugged on Skeeter’s arm.
    Skeeter stuffed a biscuit into his pocket and bobbed his head at the aunts. “Thank you, Miss Hestia, Miss Calista. It was wonderful!”
    The front door slammed repeatedly, a solid sound of two-inch-thick mahogany against a massive door frame, before silence fell over the dining room.
    Hestia put her hand over Nessa’s. “I’m so sorry.”
    â€œHestia, what got into you? I almost fainted when you said that…. About Nessa’s…” Words failed Calista.
    â€œFor a moment”—Hestia squeezed Nessa’s fingers—“it seemed as if we were sitting here with our family.”
    â€œThey are not our family,” Nessa said fiercely.
    â€œI know, dear. It’s just that they’re familiar now, and I remember so well those days when all our sisters dined here, and little Buddie and Daddy and Mama.” Hestia turned to Nessa. “Little Buddie, that was your grandpa.”
    â€œI know, Aunt Hestia.”
    â€œI remember, too,” Calista said. “We’d sit around this table, little Buddie in his high chair, having the most marvelous breakfasts, teasing each other—”
    â€œAbout your virginity ?” Nessa’s voice rose.
    â€œWell, no, not that.” Yet Hestia smiled.
    Calista smiled, too. “But almost. We could tell our mother anything, so when Daddy got up to go to work, we would laugh about our gentlemen callers and ask advice and—oh! it was wonderful. Lots of times we had company—relatives or friends—and they’d stay for days. We used to complain about going to see the same sights over and over again, but before the war and that wicked hurricane, New Orleans was a grand city, and we were awfully proud of it.”
    â€œI don’t understand how we could have been so many and dwindled to so few.” Hestia shook her head in bewilderment.
    â€œWe Dahls don’t breed well,” Calista said.
    â€œDaddy and Mama did.”
    â€œYes, but Daddy was always chasing Mama around the kitchen.”
    â€œLucky Mama!”
    The aunts were lost in their memories.
    But Nessa could think of only one thing worse than talking about her great-aunts’ sexual history, and that was talking about her great-grandparents’ kitchen romps. “Whatever! But while you’re near to my heart, aunts, I don’t even want to talk about it with you!”
    â€œYou can! It’s not as if we’re virgins,” Calista said.
    â€œOf course, I was married,” Hestia said.
    Nessa wanted to stop her ears with her fingers. “Yes, so I assumed you—”
    â€œAnd my young man didn’t make it back from the war.” Calista’s smile crooked with remembered pain.
    Hestia put her veined hand over Calista’s and gently squeezed.
    Nessa took Calista’s hand, too. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œIt was a