Every Move She Makes Read Online Free PDF Page A

it was her job to console her mother, while it was her father’s job—when he was in town—to help Uncle Jeff Henry control Cybil. How was it possible, Ella wondered for the millionth time, that two sisters whose physical appearances were almost identical could have personalities that were poles apart?
    She lifted her hand and knocked. Viola opened the door, her expression void of any emotion.
    “She’s been waiting for you,” Viola said. “I’ve changed her into her gown and helped her into bed. I don’t know why she puts up with it. Family or no family—”
    “Why don’t you go on to bed, Viola? I’ll stay with Mother until Daddy returns.”
    Her mother’s nurse huffed. “Very well, Miss Ella. But if you need me—”
    “I’ll call you if I need you.”
    Viola plodded over to Carolyn’s bed, fluffed the pillows around her, and asked if she needed anything. Ella watched how caring and attentive the nurse was, and once again she chastised herself for disliking the woman. Viola Mull looked like Mrs. Potato Head, with thin legs and a rotund body. She kept her gray hair cut in a short, straight bob that made her head look as round as her figure.
    “Ella, darling, is that you?” Carolyn’s voice contained just a hint of weakness, as if she was exceedingly weary.
    “Yes, Mother.”
    “Come sit with me.” Carolyn patted the bed. “Talk to me until your father comes home.”
    Wearing pale-yellow satin pajamas, Carolyn sat perched in the middle of the massive, canopied mahogany four-poster with white lace trailing down the posts and pooling on the hardwood floor beneath. Pristine white sheets edged with lace perfectly matched the white down coverlet that lay folded at the foot of the bed. White pillows, stacked three deep, rested behind Carolyn’s thin body.
    “Let my hair down for me and brush it, would you?” Carolyn smiled at Ella. Ever since she’d been a child, Ella would do anything to be rewarded with one of her mother’s smiles. She had spent a lifetime trying to please Carolyn, hoping that in some small way she could repay this lovely woman for having adopted her and giving her a family and a life that others could only dream of having.
    Ella went into the adjoining all-white bathroom and gathered up her mother’s silver brush and comb along with the matching hand mirror. When she sat down on the side of the bed, she laid the items in her lap, then scooted up in the bed so that she sat beside Carolyn. Brushing her mother’s hair had become a ceremony over the years, and to this day she loved the feeling of closeness this simple act generated between them. One at a time, Ella loosened the pins that held Carolyn’s hair in the loose bun. When she removed the last pin, her mother’s shimmery black hair fell down her back, stopping just inches above her waist. Only a few strands of gray glistened when the lamplight struck Carolyn just right.
    Ella began brushing, slowly, carefully, making sure she didn’t pull too hard and cause Carolyn any discomfort. As she had so many times before, Ella marveled at her mother’s beauty: alabaster skin, silky black hair, and striking silver-gray eyes. How often had Ella wished this woman were her biological mother? If she were, then maybe Ella would be prettier. Even though people often mentioned that she actually resembled both her parents, Ella found it hard to believe that she looked anything like the stunning Carolyn. She did have the same color hair, but there the resemblance ended. Carolyn was thin and petite, classically beautiful, and feminine in an old-fashioned, ladylike way.
    Ella sighed as she continued brushing her mother’s hair. When she finished the task—one hundred strokes—she held up the mirror so that Carolyn could inspect herself.
    “Lovely, darling. Thank you.” Carolyn leaned over and kissed Ella’s cheek. “You’re such a good daughter. I’m going to miss having you here with me when you and Dan get married.”
    Ella tensed.