Leigh by Lyn Cote Page A

grandfather, the daddy ofyour grandmother’s mother, Miss Lily Leigh. You’re named for her.”
    Leigh let this sink in as she recalled framed photos and tintypes of her ancestors that sat on the mantels and decorated the
     walls of Ivy Manor. “Does Grandma Chloe know about this?”
    “I think so, but we never talked about it.” Jerusha gazed at the TV screen.
    “You haven’t? Why not?”
    The older woman shrugged. “Why? Can we do anythin’ about who we’re related to? Your grandmother is a good woman. And she had
     a rough childhood with those two fightin’, good-for-nothin’ parents of hers.” Jerusha looked grimly satisfied, as if she’d
     wanted to say that for a very long time. “What saved Miss Chloe was she was raised by my mother, Patty, and your great-grandma
     Raney, two good women. Miss Chloe had a few years where she lost her way, but when the Depression happened, she come home
     and made sure no one was turned off the land.”
    This didn’t interest Leigh. The announcer murmured that they’d have a retrospective on JFK’s life later. Leigh was sick of
     her mother always telling her how hard life had been during the Depression. Was being poor as hard as living with the atom
     bomb hanging over everyone’s heads?
    “Now I think you should do my grandson right. Stop writin’ him. You’re a very pretty girl and sweet like your grandmother.
     It’s easy to see why Frank would take a shine to you. But it’s not gone to do him any good. You could make him a target of
     bad things, real bad things.”
    “What things?” Leigh folded one leg under her and suddenly the sting of hunger hooked her.
    “I already mentioned lynchin’, but even if it didn’t cometo that… people can be plenty nasty and they’d go after him not you.”
    “But—”
    “Enough talkin’. Have you called to let your family know you’re here?”
    “No.” Leigh felt weighed down. Her mother prying and now the assassination. What an awful day. She’d heard about carrying
     the weight of the world, but this was the first time it had been real to her.
    “Go, then.” Aunt Jerusha waved Leigh toward the backdoor. “Use the phone in the kitchen up at the house and then make us a
     snack. I’m hungry.”
    “How can I let her go on corresponding with Frank?” Bette demanded.
    “She’s going to do it anyway. You may think you’ve put a stop to it, but she’ll find a way. Unless you want to quit work and
     follow her around every day of the week, she can still go on writing to him without your finding out.” Chloe didn’t want to
     say that Bette was reminding her of her own mother, who had burned Chloe’s letters from her first love—a futile gesture that
     had pushed Chloe into rebellion. “You know I ended up running away from my parents.”
    Bette looked uncertain for the first time. “I thought that your running away was just because you and my father wanted to
     marry before he left for the war.”
    Chloe made a sound of irritation. “That and the fact that my parents didn’t want me to marry someone they hadn’t chosen for
     me. They wanted to control me, keep me theirs alone.”
    “I don’t want to do that.” Bette worried her lower lip. “I just don’t want her to make a disastrous mistake.”
    “Bette, we liked Curt,” Chloe appealed to her. “He was a good man. How could you or your father and I have predicted how your
     marriage would turn out? No one but God knows the future. No matter what precautions you take, your daughter will grow up
     and she’ll make her own choices, her own mistakes. I’m just worried that you will push her into such a state of rebellion
     she will do things she ordinarily would not do.”
    “Thank you, Chloe,” Ted said, entering the kitchen. “That’s been my point all along. Leigh is pretty, smart, and has so much
     personality. Whatever she decides to do, she’ll be a success. Bette, you try to control her too much. You’ve got to let go.
     Or you