Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3) - Page 62

Richard glared at me.

"How do you know what's important to people in the business?"

"I met an actor who told me all about' it," I said.

"Oh, you met an actor. Big deal."

"She's right though, isn't she, Richard? You've told me that. That's why you needed the money for your nice jackets and suits," Mommy added.

He squirmed in his seat.

"We could get a nice piece of change for that." "Mommy's got work and you said you were sure you could get me work soon anyway," I chimed.

He reddened with fury.

"That's right, Richard," Mommy said, checking her reflection in the mirror.

"You're going to keep calling her Mommy," he snapped at me. "You're bound to make a mistake in front of strangers."

"1 won't," I insisted.

"You better call me Sis or Gina even when we're alone, Melody," Mommy advised. "Get into the habit."

"All right. I will. You look beautiful in that dress, Gina," I added, enjoying the way Richard twisted in his seat as the prospect of losing the money for the dress sunk in deeper.

"Richard," she whined. "I've waited so long for something nice."

"All right, all right. Just this once, I'll change my mind, but next time when I decide something--" "We'll listen. We promise," Mommy said.

He smirked, turned a suspicious eye at me and then went to watch television while Mommy and I got my room organized.

"The Livingstons must be so rich, Melody," Mommy said. "Such expensive gifts. But soon, I'll be able to buy myself things like this. I'll be driven in my Rolls to Beverly Hills and stroll into the most expensive stores, too," she said and pretended that my dingy room was a designer's boutique. "The salespeople will come rushing over, each eager to help me, to show me the latest fashion," Mommy continued. I sat on the bed and watched her pose as if she were gazing at a dress. "Yes, that might work. What's that? Only five thousand dollars? What, is it on sale?"

She laughed and then spun around to look at herself in my evening dress once more. I laughed, too.

"It's beautiful," she said and sighed. Then she looked at me. "But it's really yours."

"No, it isn't Mommy, it's yours. I want you to have it, keep it in your closet."

"Really? Thank you, dear. But please," she said, whispering, "try, try to call me Sis or Gina." She gazed at the doorway. "Especially when he's here."

I nodded. She gave me a quick hug and then left to be with Richard.

It felt strange going to sleep in their apartment that first night because it reminded me of the trip from Sewell up to the Cape. I recalled the nights on the road, sleeping in motel rooms with them sleeping together nearby, just as they were tonight.

Back then I could only think of my stepdaddy and wonder how Mommy could hold and kiss someone else so quickly after my stepdaddy's death. Maybe she was afraid of being alone, so afraid she would even cling to someone like Archie Marlin. He took advantage of her vulnerability and replaced her fears with pipe dreams. Was Mommy just too griefstricken to notice? But what about now? What was her excuse for letting him rule her life now?

I felt so small and alone myself, sleeping in this dismal little room. If Mommy hadn't realized what sort of a man Archie Richard Marlin was by now, how could I hope to open her eyes? He held up the promise of glamour and fame, riches and respect. What could I offer in its place except the truth? And for Mommy, the truth might be too painful a pill to swallow.

Like so many other people in Los Angeles, dreams, no matter how false or impossible, were something she would much rather have. At least, I thought, I had found her, and at least now, there was a chance.

I was up before either of them the next morning. I made coffee and toasted some nearly stale bread. They didn't have much more to eat for breakfast, no cereals or eggs and very little jam or butter. Nevertheless, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee brought them out of the bedroom.

"Now this is more like it," Richard said. "I usually have to go out for some coffee. Your sister can't get her eyes open fast or wide enough to boil water first thing in the morning."

"Oh, Richard."

"What, am I telling her something she didn't know about you?" he said and laughed.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Logan Horror
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