Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

"You made a fool of both of us," I replied coolly.

"There's no winning you back, huh?" he asked.

"I'm not anyone's prize, Randall."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," I said, a little tired of being nasty myself. "Look, a great deal has happened and I'm very occupied at the moment."

"You've seen your father, haven't you?" he asked with a smile. "I know you have. I can see it in your face."

"I've seen the man who was responsible for my being born. I haven't yet seen my father," I told him. "I've got to go," I said and started away.

"Wait." He drew to my side. "Can't we meet and just talk? We had such great times together. I really don't like Leslie, not like I like you. She was just a distraction, a game. I can't take her seriously. I've said more serious things to you than I have to anyone," he declared. He looked so sincere, I had to smile.

"Maybe you are a good actor after all, Randall."

"I'm not. This is me, not some part I'm playing!" he insisted.

"I'll see," I said. "I have to get my head together by myself first."

"I want to be there for you, Rain. I mean it," he promised.

"Okay," I said. I started away.

"Don't be stupid. Go to the audition," he called after me. "You're the best in the school!"

I smiled to myself and continued on.

When I arrived at Endfield Place that afternoon, I went first to the kitchen to look for Mrs. Chester. She was preparing guinea hens for dinner.

"How's Mary Margaret?" I quickly asked.

"We've got a lot to do," she replied instead. "It's just the two of us tonight."

"But how is she? What was wrong with her?"

She kept working as if I hadn't asked the question. I stood, waiting.

"Mrs. Chester? Answer me," I demanded.

r /> She turned slowly. She looked like she had been crying. "Is she all right?"

"Yes," she said. "But she won't be back 'ere for a while; if ever," she added.

"Why not? What's wrong with her? Is it a bad disease? It's not cancer, is it?" I asked quickly, remembering Mama.

"No," she said, turning back to the food, "but for 'er it might just as well be."

"Why?"

"She's up the spout," she slammed at me.

"What? What's that mean?"

"It means 'er man, whoever 'e was, didn't use a Johnny."

"A Johnny?" I thought a moment. "You mean, she's pregnant?"