Blue-Eyed Devil Read Online Free PDF Page A

have expected.

    Liberty dressed in white pants and matching blazer, and low-heeled beige pumps. Going to the dresser, she leaned close to the mirror and neatened her smudged eyeliner with a tissue. “Well,” she said, “this is as good as it’s going to get.”

    “You look gorgeous,” I said.

    “Droopy.”

    “In a gorgeous way.”

    She looked over her shoulder with a dazzling grin. “All your lipstick’s gone, Haven.” She motioned me to the mirror beside her. “Nick caught you alone in a corner, didn’t he?” She handed me a tube of something shimmery and pale. Mercifully, before I had to answer, there was a knock at the door.

    Liberty went to open it, and Carrington came in, accompanied by my aunt Gretchen.

    Aunt Gretchen, my father’s older sister and only sibling, was hands down my favorite relative from either side of the family. She had never been elegant like my mother. Gretchen was country born and as tough as any pioneer woman who ever crossed the Red River on the Cherokee Trace. Back then Texas women had learned to take care of themselves because the men were always gone when you needed them. The modern versions were still like that, iron-willed beneath their coating of Mary Kay cosmetics.

    By all rights Aunt Gretchen should have been a tragic figure. She’d been engaged three times, and had lost all three fiancés, the first in the Korean War, the second in a car accident, and the third to an undiagnosed heart ailment. Each time Aunt Gretchen had confronted the loss, grieved, and accepted. She said she would never consider marriage again — it was clear she wasn’t meant to have a husband.

    But Aunt Gretchen found all the fun she could out of life. She wore bright shades of coral and red, and always matched her lipstick to  her clothes, and she wore jewelry on every appendage. Her hair was always teased and ratted into a puffy silver-white ball. When I was little, she had traveled a lot and nearly always brought presents for us.

    Whenever Aunt Gretchen dropped in to stay for a week or so, it had never been a convenient time for Mother. Putting two strong-minded women in the same house was like setting two trains on one track and waiting for the collision. Mother would have liked to limit Aunt Gretchen’s visits, but she hadn’t dared. One of the few times I  ever heard my father speak sharply to my mother was when she was complaining about his meddlesome sister.

    “I don’t give a damn if she turns the whole house upside down,” Dad said. “She saved my life.”

    When Dad was still in grade school, his father, my Pappaw, had left the family for good, telling people his wife was the meanest woman who ever lived, and crazy too, and while he could have put up with a crazy woman, there was nothing worse than being married to a mean one. He disappeared from Conroe, where they had lived, and was never heard from again.

    A person might have hoped Pappaw’s leaving would have given Mammaw cause for reflection, and maybe inspired her to be a little nicer. Instead Mammaw went the other way. She wore her arm out on her two children, Gretchen and Churchill, whenever she was provoked. And apparently just about everything provoked her. She’d reach for kitchen utensils, garden tools, anything she could get a hold of, and she’d beat her children half to death.

    Back then people were more tolerant of such things, so there was no public interference in what was viewed as the family’s private business. Gretchen knew she and her little brother were in for certain death if she didn’t get them both out of there.

    She saved up money from taking in extra washing and sewing, and just after her sixteenth birthday, she got Churchill up in the middle of the night, packed their clothes in a cardboard suitcase, and walked him to the end of the street, where her boyfriend met them with his car. The boyfriend drove them forty miles from Conroe to Houston and dropped them off with the promise he’d