Follow the Stars Home Read Online Free PDF Page B

Dianne said, her eyes brimming, “all I wanted was for her to grow.”
“I know … How's her eating?”
“Good. Great. Milk shakes, chicken soup, she eats all the time. Right, sweetheart?”
Julia looked up from the table. Her enormous eyes roved from Dianne to Alan and back again. She looked upon her mother with waves of seeming joy and adoration. Her right hand rose, making its way to Dianne's cheek. As always, Dianne was never sure whether Julia meant to touch her or whether the movement was just a reflex, but she bowed her forehead and let her daughter's small fingers trail down the side of her face.
“Gaaa,” Julia said. “Gaaa.”
“I know,” Dianne said. “I know, sweetheart.”
Dianne believed her daughter had a sensitive soul, that in spite of her limitations, Julia was capable of deep emotion. Out in the waiting room, with those mothers staring at her, Dianne had started singing along with her, to help Julia feel less alone and embarrassed.
Eleven years earlier she had given her deformed baby the most elegant, dignified name she could think of: Julia. Not Megan, Ellie, Darcy, or even Lucinda, after Dianne's mother, but Julia. A name with weight for a person of importance. Dianne still remembered a little boy looking through the nursery window, who started to cry because he thought Julia was a monster.
Julia sighed, long and low.
Dianne touched her hand. When she had dreamed of motherhood, she had imagined reading and drawing and playing with her child. They would create family myths as rich as any story in the library. Dianne's child would inspire her playhouses. Together they would change and grow. Her baby's progress, her creative and intellectual development, would bring Dianne unimaginable joy.
“That's my girl,” Alan said, bending down to kiss Julia. As he did, his blue shirt strained across his broad back. And now that the exam was over, other feelings kicked in, the other part of why it was hard to be around Alan. Dianne folded her arms across her chest.
She could see his muscles, his lean waist. The back of his neck was exposed. Staring at it, she had a trapdoor feeling in her stomach. She thought back to when they'd first met. To her amazement, he had asked her out. Dianne had been a shy girl, flatteredand intimidated by the young doctor. But then she had gone for his brother instead-dating a lobster-man made much more sense, didn't it? Life had thrown Dianne and Alan together for the long haul though, and she couldn't help staring at his body. Oh, my God , she thought, feeling such an overwhelming need to be held.
“I can't believe Lucinda's retiring,” Alan said. “Lucky for you and Julia-you'll have a lot more time with her.”
“I know.” Her mother was the town librarian, and even though she wasn't leaving until July, people were already beginning to miss her.
When he looked over his shoulder, Dianne bit her lip. This was the crazy thing: She had just been staring at Alan's body, wishing he would hold her, and now she had the barbed wire up, on guard against his familiar tone, against his even thinking he was part of the family. She couldn't handle this; the balance was too hard.
“The library won't be the same without her.”
Dianne glanced at Alan's wall of pictures, catching her breath. He and her mother shared the same clientele: Alan's patients learned their library skills from Mrs. Robbins. Julia couldn't use the library, had never even held a book, but many nights she had been lulled to sleep by her grandmother, the beloved and venerated storyteller of the Hawthorne Public Library.
“We're lucky,” Dianne said to Alan, half turning away from Julia.
Alan didn't know what she meant; he hesitated before responding.
“In what way?” Alan asked.
“To have that time you mentioned.”
Wringing her hands, Julia bowed her head. Shemoaned, but the sound changed to something near glee.
“My mother, me, and Julia,” Dianne continued. “To be together after she retires. Time to do