Weep No More My Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

like that!” She snapped her fingers.
    Because Min undoubtedly recognized the publicity value of Alvirah Meehan’s telling the world about her lifelong ambition to go to the Spa, Elizabeth thought. Min never missed a trick.
    They were on the Coastal Highway. “I thought this was supposed to be a beautiful drive,” Alvirah said. “It don’t look so hot to me.”
    â€œA little farther on it becomes breathtaking,” Elizabeth murmured.
    Alvirah Meehan straightened up in the seat and turned to Elizabeth, studying her intently. “By the way, I’ve been talking so much I missed your name.”
    â€œElizabeth Lange.”
    Large brown eyes, already magnified by thick-rimmed glasses, widened perceptibly. “I know who you are. You’re Leila LaSalle’s sister. She was my favorite actress in the whole world. I know all about Leila and you. I think the story of the two of you coming to New York when you were just a little girl is so beautiful. Two nights before she died, I saw a preview of her last play. Oh, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to upset you. . . .”
    â€œIt’s all right. I just have a terrible headache. Maybe if I just rest a bit . . .”
    Elizabeth turned her head toward the window and dabbed at her eyes. To understand Leila, you had to have lived that childhood, that trip to New York, the fear and the disappointments. . . . And you had to know that however good it sounded in People magazine, it wasn’t a beautiful story at all. . . .
    It was a fourteen-hour bus ride from Lexington to New York. Elizabeth slept curled up in her seat, her head on Leila’s lap. She was a little scared, and it made her sad to think of Mama coming home to find them gone, but she knew Matt would say,” Have a drink, honey” and pull Mama into the bedroom, and in a little while they’d be laughing and squealing and the springs of the bed would creak and groan. . . .
    Leila told her which states they were going through: Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey. Then the fields were replaced with ugly tanks and the road got more and more crowded. At the Lincoln Tunnel, the bus kept stopping and starting. Elizabeth’s stomach began to feel kind of funny. Leila noticed. “Good God, Sparrow, don’t get sick now. It’s just another few minutes.”
    She couldn’t wait to get off the bus. She just wanted to smell cool, clean air. But the air was heavy, and it was so hot—hotter even than at home. Elizabeth felt fretful and tired. She was about to complain, but then she saw how tired Leila looked.
    They had just left the platform when a man came over to Leila. He was thin, and his dark hair was curly but started pretty far back. He had long sideburns and small brown eyes that got squinty when he smiled. “I’m Lon Pedsell,” he said. “Are you the model the Arbitron Agency from Maryland sent?”
    Of course Leila wasn’t the model, but Elizabeth could tell she didn’t want to just say no. “There wasn’t anyone else my age on this bus” was the way she answered him.
    â€œAnd obviously you are a model.”
    â€œI’m an actress.”
    The man brightened up as though Leila had given him a present. “This is a break for me, and I hope for you. If you can use a modeling job, you’d be perfect. The pay is one hundred dollars for the sitting.”
    Leila put down her bags and squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder. It was her way of saying,” Let me do the talking.”
    â€œI can tell that you’re agreeable,” Lon Pedsell said. “Come on. I’ve got my car outside.”
    *   *   *
    Elizabeth was surprised at his studio. When Leila talked about New York, she’d thought that every place Leila worked would be beautiful. But Lon Pedsell took them to a dirty street about six blocks from the bus terminal. Lots of