Scattered Leaves (Early Spring 2) - Page 42

"Daddy says the servants are gettin' uppity and restless ever since the Yankees won at Gettysburg. I'm afraid we're looking at the twilight of the world as we knew it. Melody Ann. We might as well enjoy what we can. There's a storm on the horizon."

I looked at her and saw how she had turned very sad. Being in this oversize dress, having too much rouge on my cheeks, and my hair brushed down and pinned, I did feel as if we were both in a school play and we were both supposed to look a little sad at this point.

We went into the living room to wait for Lester to bring the Southern fried chicken and ice cream. I sat on the sofa, and 'with Miss Puss curled up below me. I listened to Great-aunt Frances continue to talk about life in the South back at the time of the Civil War. She appeared to have memorized all sorts of speeches and stories she had seen and heard on television or in movies, and even

though I did feel silly after a while. I still listened and enjoyed the way she paraded about the room, gesturing toward invisible guests who arrived, telling me all about this one or that. Everyone had a story attached to his or her name. I imagined that years and years of watching soap operas and reading her stories had given her a rich well of information from which she could draw pails and pails of love, of comedy and of tragedy.

"We feast on gossip, dear Melody Ann," she said. "It's like eating chocolate cake and never getting full or fat because gossip is light and airy but delicious, don't you think?

"Now." she said before I could think of an answer, 'I've talked enough. It's your turn. You must tell me all about life in the big city. Go on, start with describing the mansion," she said and dropped herself into the big easy chair, exhausted from her long speeches and dramatics. She stared with anticipation. "Tell me about Bethlehem." she added when I said nothing.

"Bethlehem?" So we were no longer in a play?

"Bethlehem, Bethlehem. Emma's kingdom. I've never been invited, you know."

Never invited? Was this just part of her pretending? "Didn't you ever see Grandmother Emma's mansion?"

"You know I haven't. Melody Ann. I've been waiting for a proper invitation. Go on, tell me about it all, and don't leave out a single detail."

I began, but I felt strange telling my great-aunt Frances about her own sister's house. She had so many questions about everything I described that I was convinced she really had never seen it or been there to visit. Why hadn't she ever been invited? I wondered.

"It sounds as wonderful as I imagined it to be," she said. "I do want to hear all about your parents, too. but I see it's time for us to go to dinner."

Lester had returned with his arms full of bags, and he'd gone into the kitchen. He peered in at us on his way out.

"Don't leave the ice cream out too long. Miss Wilkens."

Great-aunt Frances didn't reply. She looked at me and smiled as if Lester had been the one lost in some imaginary world and not us. After he left, she rose, and we went into the kitchen. She put the ice cream in the freezer, then took out the boxes of Southern fried chicken dinners. She gazed at them for a moment, then smiled at me.

"We should heat it up. but I bet you're like me, too hungry to wait for that and for us to set the table in the dining room. Let's just eat cold chicken in here and pretend we're eating in there." she said and sat at the kitchen table. "Oh, do get us knives and forks. dear."

I knew where they were and did so. I got us some napkins as well, and she began to eat as if she hadn't for days. I watched her a moment, then sat and began to eat myself. It was good and we did enjoy it. As strange as it had all been, I couldn't say I wasn't having fun. I really didn't mind pretending. After all, like her. I hadn't had many close friends to have over and play imaginary games, Grandmother Emma had been very strict about whom we could bring to the house.

Ian certainly hadn't pretended and played anything with me unless it had had an educational reason. Ian hadn't minded our being alone. He'd been happy being by himself, but there had been many times when I'd wished I'd had someone sleep over.

Great-aunt Frances took out the ice cream and two bowls before I was finished eating. She brought it to the table with two spoons and began to scoop it out. At Grandmother Emma's house, we never ate dessert before everyone was finished with his or her meal and those dinner plates were removed. Of course, we didn't have a maid to serve us dinner here, but still. I would think Great-aunt Frances knew that. Hadn't she been taught the same manners taught to Grandmother Emma?

I quickly rose and took her plate and mine to the sink, where I scraped off the dishes the way Nancy always did before she placed them in the dishwasher.

"Just leave that now," Great-aunt Frances said. "We don't have to do anything until we want to do it."

I returned to the table, and she pushed my bowl of ice cream to me and smiled.

She ate hers as quickly as she had eaten her dinner. I wasn't even half finished with mine before she was done,

"Isn't this fun?" she asked. Before I could answer she said, "I wonder who we'll be tomorrow. If you have anyone you want to be, don't hesitate to tell me and I'll arrange it for us. okay?"

I shrugged. "I don't know," I said.

"Don't you worry one bit. I have closets and closets full of people," she told me. "We can pluck a princess off a hanger any time we want."

She laughed. I had to smile. What a funny, wonderful idea: pluck a princess off a hanger. I started to clean up for us, but she insisted we leave

everything in the sink. She said she was too tired to wash and dry dishes, even though we didn't have very many, and besides, there was a program on television she didn't want to miss. She made me go with her to the living room, but not ten minutes into watching her show, she fell asleep in her chair and began to snore. I returned to the kitchen and washed and dried the dishes and silverware. I put it all away, cleaned the table, then went back to the living room.

Great-aunt Frances was still asleep and still snoring. I was thinking that now I would go up and start to read Ian's letters.

"Hey!" I heard coming from the hallway. I looked out and saw Alanis standing in the open basement doorway. She was wearing her hat, a black camisole and jeans. "C'mon. She's not going to wake up until much later,"

Tags: V.C. Andrews Early Spring Horror
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