Last Dance Read Online Free PDF

I’m going to get her right now, okay, it’s just that a full tank of gas is a safer way to look for somebody.”
    His father said, “All right, Matthew. Here’s a ten. Now you phone us as soon as you find out anything, do not invite Emily to stay here, encourage her to make peace with her parents, and stay out of the whole thing.”
    “How can he stay out of it when he’s going down to interfere?” Matt’s mother asked. “You’re spoiling him, always handing him money.”
    Matt said, “Anyway, her parents aren’t nice. That’s all there is to it. You guys are very sheltered here. You think other people are nice. Well, some of them aren’t, and Mr. and Mrs. Edmundson are two of the least nice people I know.”
    “Nonsense,” his grandfather said. “How could a fine girl like that come from two rotten people? Of course her parents are fine people. Just going through a rough moment, that’s all.”
    Matt curled the ten in his hand, backed away from his clamoring family, and said, “No, they’re crummy people. All Emily’s moments with them are rough.”
    Anne gazed out the car window.
    Mount Snow was green now in the middle of June: green in that thick shimmering emerald color, before the heat of summer has sunburned the leaves. The trees met in the middle of the road above Con’s car, and they whipped through a tunnel of branches and leaves. Rushing River ran fast, tumbling over rocks and through ravines, and Con drove close to the edge of the road, while Anne stared down into the rocks and looked for deer.
    The sun was lowering in the sky. Purple and gold and rose-red layers of clouds drifted and shifted. The mountain leaped up out of the hills and towered above them, blocking the sun completely, so that the road was suddenly dark and cold, and Anne shivered.
    Con said, “You feel okay?”
    “I’m fine. Just shivered because the sun went behind the mountain.”
    Con drove a little faster. She had a sense that Con was driving away from something instead of toward the dance.
    They pulled in the gate at Rushing River Inn. Split rail fences edged the lane like dark brown embroidery, and blue iris bloomed in clumps. Rushing River Inn was a vast white clapboard resort with towers, circular glass porches, and roses climbing the walls. Con drove around back where the parking lots were hidden by rows of thick hemlock hedges. The flower gardens for which the Inn was famous were in splendid bloom, and Anne gasped and smiled when she saw them. The rear of the Inn had been modernized, with glass walls replacing the old wrap-around porches. There was a breathtaking view of Mount Snow. From the outside the glass reflected the mountain many times and the viewer seemed to be encircled with its majesty.
    It was hot, and Con glanced at the immense outdoor swimming pool that lay below the terraces. Off bounds for the dance. Con was sorry. He would much rather go swimming than dancing.
    He took Anne’s arm and thought things were going rather well.
    Then Molly got out of the car opposite his.
    Anne knew instantly that it was Molly Con had been seeing while she was off having his baby. She knew by the smirk on Molly’s face and the involuntary tightening of his grip on her arm; she knew because she could actually feel his pulse race, and see him lick his lips.
    I still care, she thought.
    And instead of wanting to weep because of it, she wanted to shout with joy.
    I care! I care! she wanted to yell. I didn’t die inside! I didn’t curl up and go away! I’m still here, and I still care, and I can still love!
    Con pretended not to have seen Molly.
    Molly, wearing a remarkably short, aggressively purple dress, simply stood there watching the couple. Con was stiff as a board, turning neither to his left nor his right, but trying to move blindly ahead to a safety zone in the Inn.
    Anne stopped walking. “Why, hello, Molly,” she said graciously. “I haven’t seen you in months. How are you?” She had never seen a more