Secret Brother - Page 64

I turned to face Grandpa Arnold, taking a few steps toward him. When he spoke, I stopped.

“You don’t even call to let anyone know where you are for more than nine hours,” he began.

“We went for a picnic on Three Wrens Lake.”

“Telling me a little late, aren’t you? I’ve already spoken with Aaron’s father. For your information, he was just as upset about it.”

It was unrealistic to expect that was it. I walked forward and stopped just in front of him.

“I’ve put up with a lot because you’re hurting, but that doesn’t mean you can be irresponsible and disrespectful, Clara Sue. I’m your guardian. I love you, but I won’t put up with this sort of behavior. You go to your room, and you think about it. For now, you’re to go to and from school with Bill. Don’t make any plans for any weekend activities until I say so. You can invite your girlfriend or girlfriends over, but that’s it until you demonstrate you’re responsible enough for anything more.” He opened the front door and stood back.

“That’s not fair,” I said.

“That’s what it is,” he replied. He didn’t even sound like my grandfather. The sternness in his voice and the firm way he held his posture quickly subdued any other comment I could think to make.

I walked in quickly and paused when I saw Myra standing there beside My Faith.

“You had us very worried,” Myra said.

“Oh, child,” My Faith said, shaking her head.

“I’m not a child!” I cried, and ran up the stairs.

I paused at Willie’s doorway. Mrs. Camden was pushing the boy out in his wheelchair. The sight of him sitting up, his golden hair brushed neatly, startled me. I quickly recognized Willie’s shirt and pants. I glanced down at his shoes and socks and then looked up at her.

“He’s the same shoe size?” I asked. To me, it was the most astounding thing.

“Yes,” she said.

I looked at the boy. His face seemed fuller, his cheeks rosier than ever. The blue in his eyes was the most exquisite blue I had ever seen. It was as if his body was emerging from the depth of his great pain and sorrow stronger than it had been. He started to smile at me. Nothing I had done or said apparently frightened or discouraged him. He smiled like a little brother might at the appearance of his sister, waiting for some kind or friendly remark.

“No!” I cried, and ran to my room.

When I shut the door behind me, it felt as if I had lowered the lid on my own coffin. I flopped onto my bed, the tears rushing out of my eyes as if they’d been shut up for weeks and weeks and could finally break free.

“Willie,” I whispered. “Willie.”

I rose and went to my desk, quickly pulling out my stationery and peeling a sheet off the top. It was going to be a short letter.

Dear Willie,

I hate Grandpa. I want to run away, only I have no place to go, and I hate the idea of never going to your grave.

I won’t talk to anyone in this house. No one is on my side.

Clara Sue

I folded it and put it in the envelope and in the drawer. Then I took a deep breath and went into my bathroom to take a shower and disguise my tears with the water that ran down my face.

No one would see me cry.

Especially my grandfather.

13

When I didn’t go down to dinner, Myra came up to see me. I was lying on my bed, staring furiously at the ceiling.

“Everyone’s at the table,” she said. “We’re waiting for you, Clara Sue.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews
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