Broken Flower (Early Spring 1) - Page 116

"Jordan!" she cried, and shook her head. "What a terrible thing to say."

I held up my letters. "No, it's not. She never mailed my first letter to Ian," I moaned. She said she would and she didn't. She lied. Mama told me people tell you what you want to hear. She said people do it all the time. She said..." I gasped. "She said, 'Welcome to the adult world.'

"Well, I don't want to be in the adult world," I said, and ran out and up to my room.

No. I didn't want to grow up at all. I'd never forget to take my medicine. I'd take it forever if it would keep me from lies and I was about to find out just how impossible that was going to be, because the biggest lit of all was waiting to show me its ugly face.

27 Daddy in Charge

. Daddy didn't return for dinner. Felix phoned Nancy to tell her that Daddy had called Kimberly from the hospital and she and he had gone out to eat at a restaurant. He never called to tell Nancy beforehand so she was upset because she had prepared enough food for all of us and another of his favorite desserts, which took some time, a fresh fruit tart. After Felix phoned to let her know, she went into the kitchen and dumped out food, slammed the stove and refrigerator doors, and swore aloud that she would look for new employment.

I sat alone in the dining room listening to her. When she came in to see how I was doing, she told me everything and also said Grandmother Emma had suffered a stroke and was being evaluated in the hospital,

but it was clear she was very, very ill.

"Whenever you go see her, you'd better not be mean to her. Jordan, because she forgot to send out your letter," Nancy added. "For your information, young lady, elderly people who suffer strokes have trouble with their memory and she might have been having that just recently. I know because my mother had a stroke.'

I knew she was telling me all this to make me feel bad, but I was still angry about my letter to Ian.

"The truth is she hasn't been herself since your father's return," Nancy continued, clearing things off the table. "Look at all that woman's had to carry on her shoulders, with your mother and all and then this horrible, terrible thing your brother did. It's enough to give a twenty-year-old a stroke, much less a woman of her age."

I suddenly realized that although Grandmother Emma was always quite firm and seemed even angry at times when she spoke to Nancy. Nancy really admired and respected her. I wouldn't go so far as to say love, but she certainly held Grandmother Emma in high regard and excused any of her abruptness and sharpness as being simply the way a woman who was a leader and an important member of the community had to be.

I did feel bad about what I had said. I hoped Nancy wouldn't tell Grandmother Emma. Much later, after I had gone to bed and was falling asleep. I heard loud voices and laughter coming from downstairs. I rose and went out in my pajamas to the top of the stairway so I could listen. Had Grandmother Emma gotten better already and been brought home? I wondered.

I soon realized it was Daddy and Kimberly and they were carrying on just as they had before Grandmother Emma had gotten ill. I went down a few steps and saw Kimberly wheeling him toward his bedroom. From what I overheard, I understood she was staying the night. Nancy was nowhere to be seen. I imagined she had gone home, and Mrs. Clancy was still away.

I sat on the step and listened until I couldn't hear their voices anymore. For a few moments I debated whether or not I should go down, knock on Daddy's door, and ask him what had happened to Grandmother Emma, but I didn't want to see him with Kimberly. I was afraid I would see them doing what I had seen them doing when I peered through the window. I rose and returned to my bedroom, but now falling asleep wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be.

I missed everyone, Mama. Ian, and even Grandmother Emma, despite her not mailing my letter. It had been comforting to know she was just across the hall from me. She was still as powerful as a queen in my mind and she could keep the demons from our doors. What would keep them away now? I wondered. I was sure I would have nightmares. Would I be able to do what Ian prescribed, blink my eyes and pop them out of my head?

Trembling. I descended into the darkness of sleep.

Nothing woke me until morning, however. First, it was the sunshine pouring through the windows because I had forgotten to close the curtains, and then it was Nancy coming to see how I was.

"I'll make you a good breakfast," she said.

I nodded, rose, washed and dressed, and took my medicine. I expected to see Daddy and Kimberly in the dining room, too, but they weren't there. Nancy told me they hadn't woken yet. She heard nothing coming from that side of the house. Then Mrs. Clancy came in and Nancy intercepted her in the hallway to give her all the news.

"I'm not surprised, not a bit," she muttered, "considering all that poor woman has to contend with."

She came into the dining room to have some breakfast and coffee.

"Someone's here with Daddy," I said.

"I heard," she said, her face grimacing like the face of someone who had just bitten into a very tart lemon.

As if on cue in a play. Daddy and Kimberly came out of his bedroom. Kimberly wheeled him to the dining room. She was wearing one of his bathrobes and his slippers. Daddy had a pajama top and a pair of sweat pants on with no shoes. The first thing I thought when I saw them was Grandmother Emma would never permit them to come to the dining room table dressed like that.

"Well, everyone's eating breakfast without us, Kimberly," Daddy said. "This is Mrs. Clancy," he added.

Kimberly smiled at her but didn't say anything and Mrs. Clancy only glared back. Then she put down her coffee cup.

"I don't imagine you took your medications this morning," she said.

"Oh, sure I did. Didn't I. Kimberly?"

"He did," she said. "Maybe not the exact same medicine, however,'" she added, and they both laughed. "Oh, look at those corn muffins." She sat beside him and poured herself and then Daddy a cup of coffee.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Early Spring Horror
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