A Damaged Trust Read Online Free PDF Page B

Carrie declared. Janet hid a smile and bit back the remark that she could mention a young lady every bit as stubborn as Cliff! Carrie continued, moving in her chair in irritation. “He won’t have his physical exams with his doctor, he won’t have his eyes examined, even though he has to squint at distances now—I don’t know how you put up with him, Mom!” Since Janet sometimes wondered the same thing herself, again she had no answer for her daughter. After a silence, Carrie changed the subject with, “Who all is coming tomorrow, or need I ask?”
    “Everybody, my dear, simply everybody.” She was not surprised at her mother’s answer. When the Metcalfe family had a barbecue, the whole county showed up for it, invited or not. It was a major production and there was always plenty of food and drink—enough to last the entire night, which was usually necessary. People tended to stay until dawn, when a huge breakfast was served around five-thirty.
    Carrie shook her head in mock despair. “I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to it, or dreading it!”
     
     
    The next day as she watched two of the ranch hands preparing the big pit where beef would be roasted over a live fire, she took a sip of her coffee and decided that she was dreading it. She knew just what kind of chaos and confusion to expect, the horrific mess that the hands would be cleaning up the next day, the family all running to and fro, the noise of the party until dawn—all in all, she thought, it was one big hassle. Mother had to have a screw loose upstairs to go through this every year!
    The lady of her doubts came out on the verandah and sat down with a smile of satisfaction. Watching her mother, Carrie was amused to see just how much she enjoyed all of the bustle. Definitely a screw loose.
    “Mother, a born organizer,” she commented lightly.
    Janet laughed. “Why, thank you, my dear. I like to think so. Of course your father won’t ever admit it—he’s sure it’s all his doing. But I manage to get in a few ideas of my own and he always thinks that he has thought of them himself. The whole key is diplomacy. Maybe I should go into politics!”
    Carrie was unprepared for the knife-like pain that shot through her at the lightly spoken words. She said abruptly, and more harshly than she meant to, ”You wouldn’t last a minute in politics, Mother. You don’t have the hypocrisy needed to survive.” At this she stood and went into the house, leaving Janet to stare after her in surprise.
    It was nearing seven o’clock in the evening and the guests were beginning to arrive when Carrie started to dress. She pulled out a black sleeveless blouse with a deep neckline and a pale blue pair of slacks. Simple, flat sandals completed the outfit. She added a gold necklace and contemplated herself in the full-length mirror. She couldn’t decide how she wanted to wear her hair.
    Unbidden and unwanted came the thought that Neil had always liked her hair down in a riotous tumble of curls. She swiveled around to find her hairbrush. She would wear her hair up tonight. It was a simple style that would be cool and refreshing, and it would show of the graceful curve of her neck quite nicely.
    After sweeping her hair into a knot, she stroked on a little blush to emphasize the high angle of her cheekbones, then applied a touch of eye-shadow to the tilt of her eyelids. The result was a light sophistication that would wear easily in the heat and not need any touching up later on. She debated the use of lipstick, but opted instead for some lip-gloss, giving the curve of her lips an attractive glow. Carrie gave herself one last, cursory glance, caught the sight of her hair up off of her neck and paused. “I am not reacting,” she told the suspicious girl in the mirror, “I’m acting!” The mirror image shook her head. Carrie sighed and left the room, depressed.
    The sound of car engines floated through open windows from the front of the house and she could hear