Tami Hoag - Cry Wolf

"I'm sure I don't care," Laurel grumbled.

"Yeah? Well, I'll bet Vivian cares. A fine, upstanding, well-bred man like Mr. Danjermond. She'd hand you over to him on a platter if she could. Think about it. She could marry you off to a man with money, power, prestige, a big future in politics, and snuff out the last embers of your big scandal all at once. How perfectly neat and tidy and cold-just the way Vivian likes things."

There was nothing for Laurel to say. She had seen Vivian's game for what it was, too, and it didn't bear comment as far as she was concerned. She had no intention of letting her mother manipulate her-except that she already had. The thought struck her like a hammer to the chest. She had gone to Beauvoir to placate Vivian. Nothing that had happened during the course of that visit could be undone. Because of Vivian, Danjermond was interested in her personally and professionally. Because of Vivian, Savannah had caused a scene, and now there was this tension between them, calling to mind the wedge that would forever both bind them together and hold them apart-Ross's abuse.

"I never should have come back," she whispered.

"Baby, don't say that!" Savannah exclaimed, stricken by the thought. She shoved her Ray-Bans on top of her head and stared at her sister, taking her eyes off the road for a full ten seconds. "Don't say that. You needed to come home. I'm going to take care of you, I promise." She changed hands on the steering wheel and reached across to brush her fingers over Laurel 's hair. "That's all I was doing at Beauvoir-taking care of you, protecting you from Vivian. We'll start all over, starting now. It'll just be you and me and Aunt Caroline and Mama Pearl. We won't do anything but have fun. It'll be just like old times."

Laurel caught her sister's hand and kissed it and hung on tight while Savannah 's attention cut back to the road. Just like old times. Old times here are not forgotten… But they should be…

"I-I d-didn't mean for Mama to c-catch me! I-I thought she was g-gone to her m-meeting!" Laurel clutched at her sister, crying, miserable, desperate, her cheek still stinging and burning from the slap of Vivian's hand.

She'd done wrong. Mama was furious with her. Heaven only knew but that she might end up having a spell. And it would be all my fault, Laurel thought. She knew she wasn't supposed to have the pictures of Daddy out in the parlor, 'cause if Mr. Leighton saw them, he wouldn't like it. She winced again as the memory swooped down on her like a hawk…

Vivian stepped into the room with a smile on her face, a smile that vanished as she saw what Laurel was playing with. The photo album, the crawfish tie pin, the bass tie Savannah had stolen out of the boxes for the Lafayette Goodwill. All their little bits of Daddy. They kept them up in Savannah 's room, but just once Laurel had wanted to take them down to the parlor and sit by the window where Daddy had held her on his lap on rainy days and told her funny stories that he made up off the top of his head.

" Laurel, what are you doing?" Vivian asked, drifting across the room. She'd been to her hospital auxiliary meeting. She always wore her double pearls to the hospital auxiliary. They clicked together like teeth chattering as she came toward Laurel, her face turning red beneath her perfect makeup as her gaze settled on the collection of mementos. "Where did you get these things?"

"Um… um…" Laurel 's fingers curled around the edge of the photo album, and she pulled it protectively against her, but it was too late. Vivian jerked the book away from her and gasped.

"Where did you get this? What is it doing out here? Shame on you for dragging this out!" She slammed the album closed and tossed it onto the seat of the old red leather wing chair that had been Daddy's favorite.

She pressed her hands to her cheeks and paced in a short line back and forth, back and forth, as nervous as a racehorse, her eyes flashing with something like panic. "Shame on you for bringing that out! Mr. Leighton is new to this house, and you're dragging out all this! What would he think if he saw this?"

Laurel didn't really care what Mr. Leighton thought. She didn't like him. Didn't like his staying in Daddy's room. Didn't like the way he patted her head. Didn't like the way he looked at Savannah. She didn't want him at Beauvoir.

"I don't like him!" she blurted out, popping up from her seat on the floor, anger making her feel like she could grow to be ten feet tall and mean as an alligator. "I don't like him and don't care what he thinks!"

The slap came hard and fast and turned her head. Tears rushed up from deep inside and poured down her face, her cheek stinging and half numb. Vivian grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake.

"Don't you ever say that!" she said fiercely, her eyes bright with temper and tears. "Your father is dead. Mr. Leighton is head of this house now, and you will be a good girl and mind him and show respect. Do you understand me, Laurel Leanne?"

Laurel stared at her, wishing she didn't have to say yes. Wishing she could dare say no and still have Mama love her. But she couldn't, and she knew it. Mama already didn't love Savannah most of the time.

"Do you understand me?" she repeated, her voice trembling, on the verge of the kind of hysteria that always came before one of her spells.

"Y-yes, Mama," Laurel stammered, anger and sorrow tumbling together inside her like a pair of fighting cats. "I-I'm sorry, Mama."

That quickly, Vivian's temper cooled visibly. Her hold on Laurel 's arms eased. She bent down awkwardly, so as not to wrinkle her new hot pink dress, and stroked Laurel 's hair back from her forehead again and again, wiping tears into it. A trembling smile wobbled across her perfectly painted mouth. "That's my girl. I know you'll be a good girl. You know what's important, don't you, Laurel? You're always such a good girl," she whispered, sniffling. "Mama's little pet. You run along now and play elsewhere."

And Laurel had run. She had run out to find Savannah in the rickety old boathouse down on the bank of the bayou. They sat in the old wooden bâteau Daddy had let them use, and Savannah hugged her and wiped her tears. Laurel desperately wanted her to say everything would be all right, but Savannah had stopped saying that after Vivian and Ross had come back from their honeymoon.

So many things had changed so fast. Daddy gone. Ross Leighton taking his place. Some nights it just scared her so to think of it that she couldn't sleep, and she tried to sneak into Savannah's room as she always had, but Savannah kept the secret door locked now and wouldn't tell her why.

"I wish we could take the boat and float all the way to New Orleans," she mumbled against her sister's shoulder. "I wish we could run away."

"We can't," Savannah murmured, stroking her hair.

"We could go and live with Aunt Caroline."

"No," she whispered, staring out at the water. "Don't you see, Baby? There's no getting away."

The way she said it made Laurel scared all over again, and she shivered and looked up at her sister, feeling all hollow and achy inside at the sadness in Savannah 's eyes. Then Savannah smiled suddenly and tickled her.

"But we can go out on the bayou and pretend we're shipwrecked on a jungle island," she said, twisting around to untie the bâteau from its mooring.

And they let the boat drift out of the old cypress shed that looked like a junk heap and smelled like fish, and headed up the bayou to a place where they could pretend the world was perfect and Ross Leighton didn't exist.

"Dat Armentine Prejean, she kin cook, her," Mama Pearl declared, shaking her wooly head as she snapped beans into a plastic bucket wedged between her tiny feet. "She don' cook nothin' good for Vivian, but she kin cook, I tell you. If she wasn' cookin' for Vivian, you would'a ate her dinner, chère."