Family Storms (Storms 1) - Page 35

I rose and went to the closet to choose something to wear. I wondered how anyone could decide with all of these choices. How important had this been to Alena? I didn’t want to keep thinking about being in her room, using her things, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but be curious about her. Was she spoiled, too? Did she get along with Kiera? How could anyone? What did she think when she realized how sick she was, or did they keep the seriousness of her illness a secret from her until she was near the end of her life? Secrets were very comfortable living here. It seemed only natural for the Marches to lie to one another.

And yet, I thought, surely she must have felt very sick and knew because of all the things she couldn’t do any longer that she was in danger of dying. Even a doctor like Dr. Milan couldn’t keep the truth from peeking out of his eyes.

I realized, however, that death is not something someone so young thinks about very often and probably not until he or she hears about a relative or a friend dying. I didn’t, not even when life was so difficult for Mama and me. Somehow I always thought we’d get through it. Something would happen to change things and make us healthy and whole again. Even when I saw her get hit just before me on the highway, I still believed it would be all right. The ambulances were there. Someone was helping Mama.

And when that woman told me she was dead, that she had been killed instantly, it didn’t set right in. I kept hoping and thinking that there was a mistake. Alena must have been the same way when she was getting sicker and sicker. She must have thought the doctor would make her better. One morning, she’d wake up and it would be all over, just the way a cold ends. The younger you were, the more of a surprise death had to be, I thought.

After sifting through some of the clothes, I chose a light-blue skirt and the blouse that went with it. Everything fit well, but the more comfortable I was in Alena’s things, the more frightened it made me feel. I almost took the blouse and skirt off and put on what I had worn the day before, but before I could do that, Mrs. Duval brought me my breakfast.

“What time does everyone else eat breakfast?” I asked her.

“Mr. March is the first down always. He eats very early and leaves for work before Kiera even gets up and dressed most of the time, especially during the summer months. Sometimes, like today, he takes a little longer, and Mrs. March joins him. On weekends, it’s usually different. Everyone sleeps in. You look very nice this morning,” she added. She smiled and left.

About an hour after I finished breakfast, Mrs. March returned with Dr. Milan. He examined me and said that one of the nurses at his office would stop by with a crutch for me to use.

“She’ll show you how to use it so you can keep the pressure off that leg for a while.”

“How long will I have to be in the cast?” I asked.

“We’ll see. I’ll get you over to my office for X-rays in three or four weeks. In the meantime,” he said, looking around the suite, “you’ll be fine. It doesn’t look like you’ll be lacking anything.”

Nothing except love and a family, I thought. He and Mrs. March left together. I could hear them whispering in the hallway until they went down the stairs. Immediately afterward, Rosie came up to get my tray and dishes. She asked me how I was feeling and told me she thought Kiera was jealous.

“Jealous of what? Me?”

She laughed. “Well, she claims she’s not feeling well and locked herself in her room. Mrs. Duval had to bring her breakfast, too, but it ain’t the first time, and I’m sure it ain’t the last.”

After she left, I wheeled myself to the door and looked down the hallway. No one was there, so I continued a little until I heard music and laughter behind the door of the room next to mine. I imagined it was Kiera’s and paused to see if I could hear anyone else. Perhaps one of her friends was already there. Whether she heard me or could see through some keyhole, I don’t know, but suddenly, the door was thrust open and she was standing there in her bathrobe. She was holding a portable phone in her right hand. It happened so quickly that I flinched and wheeled myself back a few feet.

“What are you doing, spying on me?” she asked.

“No. I didn’t even know this was your room.”

“Right. You don’t know anything. Just keep out of my face,” she said, and slammed the door. I heard her tell whoever was on the phone that one of the annoying maids had come to check on something.

Still trembling, I wheeled myself back to my room and closed the door. Just knowing that Kiera was so close made me nervous. She had already shown that she could burst in on me anytime, even when I was sleeping. I doubted that Mrs. March could stop her.

Moments later, I heard someone else coming, and I was happy to see that it was Mrs. Kepler. She could see I was upset.

“Are you feeling all right? I know the doctor was just here.”

“I’m fine,” I said, but I didn’t say anything more. What good would it do to tell her about Kiera March?

“Would you rather we work outside?”

“No.”

“You’re probably right. There are too many distractions out there. Let’s get to it,” she said.

She went through the history and science workbooks with me and set out the books she wanted me to read. Finally, she paused and said, “You do look worried, Sasha. I hope I didn’t lead you to believe that you must finish all of this in a week.”

“I’m okay,” I said.

She still looked suspicious but continued with her explanations and instructions. I tried to pay attention as well as I had done the day before, but I couldn’t help anticipating Kiera March again. Perhaps she would come in to interrupt us and mock me. I could see that Mrs. Kepler wasn’t pleased with my responses.

Mrs. March stopped by to see if Mrs. Kepler was going to stay for lunch. She told her she thought we had done enough for the day. From the looks they were giving each other, I knew Mrs. Kepler wanted to speak with her privately. She said she would return about the same time tomorrow and then left with Mrs. March. I hoped she wasn’t going to tell her that it was too soon to have me do the schoolwork. I was happy to have it, to have something that would take my mind off everything. In fact, by the time Mrs. Duval stopped in with my lunch, I had already done everything Mrs. Kepler had assigned for the day. I knew that would both surprise and please Mrs. March.

When she returned, because of what Mrs. Kepler had obviously told her, she wanted to know if she was rushing me too fast. “With your recuperation and all that’s happened, maybe we should wait on your schooling and …”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Storms
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