Inheritance by Judith Michael Page B

think about it," Ben said at last.
    "No, Ben, tell us now," Laura pleaded. "Say you won't do it. Say you'll think up another job, and we'll come to New Yoiic and help you do it—we can come on a weekend and then come back—"
    "I didn't say I was staying!" Clay exclaimed.
    "I want you to stay with me. That way you'll finish high school and maybe think about college instead of—" She bit back her words.
    "Instead of being like me," Ben said flatly.
    "I want to be like Ben!" Clay stormed. "There's nothing wrong with that. You wanted it, too, once. And if you'd shut up about Owen and his rich bitch family, we could get going on my plan and then get out of here and go back to New York where we belong!"
    Laura bit her lip. "I don't want to go back to New York; I want to move into the cottage. Ben, we'll visit you, we'll still be a family, and I'm sorry if you'll be lonely but I want this so much . . ." She took his hand. *'Beny please."
    He shoved back his chair, pulling his hand away. "I told you I'd think about it. That's the best I can do. It's more than I want to do." He stood and took out his wallet. "I'll drive you to Centerville, then I'm going back to New York. I'll call in a few days." His lips were tight. "Listen to me, Laura. I'm still your guardian; when I decide, you'll do what you're told."
    "Danm right," Clay muttered. He and Laura walked to the

    Inheritance
    car while Ben paid the waiter. "Ben wanted a reunion and a nice time, and you ruined it."
    "You don't care about Ben. You just don't want to give up your plan."
    "What's wrong with that? What good's a plan you can't do?"
    Ben joined them and they drove to Centerville in silence. All around them were cars filled with people on vacation; the sidewalks were kaleidoscopes of people all looking happy. Laura watched them and wanted to cry.
    She kept wanting to cry all week, waiting for Ben to call, but she couldn't cry in front of Rosa, and she refused to cry in front of Clay, so she held it in. It was easier because they were so busy; Felix and Leni had houseguests, which meant fifteen or more people at every meal, and Rosa had already begun preparations for the Sunday night dinner dance on the yacht. As the weekend approached, she grew more frenzied, her fingers a blur as they flew from mixers to mandolins, whisks to rolling pins, terrines to casseroles. Laura was mostly on her own, preparing breakfast and lunch for the large groups that seemed to materialize in the dining room or on the porch for another meal before she had even finished cleaning up from the last one. As she cooked, Rosa would appear beside her now and then with a sharp criticism or brief suggestion or, best of all, a touch on the arm and word of praise that made Laura feel she loved Rosa and all the world.
    But then she would see Rosa putting covered dishes in the two wall freezers, for the party on the yacht, and she would remember she could lose it all in a few days. She began to avoid everyone, talking to Rosa only about food, never anything personal; telhng Allison she couldn't take tennis or swimming lessons; telling Owen she couldn't work in his library that week: there was too much to do in the kitchen.
    Then, on Friday, two days before the party, Ben called. "I talked to Clay yesterday; he says you're not very friendly to him."
    "I'm busy and tired," Laura said shortly. "And he keeps telUng me I'm crazy to pass up a golden opportunity, and he won't listen to anything I say. I guess I don't feel very friendly."

    Judith Michael
    "Well, Fve been thinking about what you said." Ben let out a long breath. "We'U call it off, Laura."
    "Ben—!"
    "I still have to deal with Clay, but I can handle him. I guess what I can't handle is the chance that you'd hate me."
    "Oh, Ben, I love you—thank you—I love you. Are you coming here soon? We'll have another dinner, we'll have a good time, better than last week, I promise. When can you come? I can get off early; we could even spend a day together.