Rain (Hudson 1) - Page 81

The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were deep, perhaps because of the way she squinted at me. Other than those, there weren't many lines in her face. She didn't appear to be wearing much make-up, if any.

She wore a turquoise velvet robe with a gold fringe on the collar and the sleeves. The robe reached her ankles. Her feet were in velvet slippers that matched her robe.

"I am absolutely positive you know why you are here," she continued. "Sit," she ordered and waved at the chair I had been sitting in. I did so quickly.

She crossed to the leather sofa and pulled her robe tightly around her as she sat. She leaned back, resting her right arm on the arm of the sofa and stared at me. I saw the way her eyes shifted, studying my face, pausing, softening and then hardening again as she drew her shoulders up.

"Megan tells me you're a good student. I hope that's not another one of her exaggerations. She's prone to do that...she has exaggerationitis," she remarked.

"What? I never heard of such a thing."

"Nevertheless, she has it. Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you a good student?"

"Yes. I've been on the honor roll ever since the seventh grade."

"And what happened before that?"

"There wasn't any honor roll," I said dryly.

She stared, her lips relaxing in the corners for a moment and then stiffening.

"You understand that I am not in favor of your living here. I've never mollycoddled Megan or made excuses for her behavior. When she was pregnant and showing, I had her sent away. She had none of her family with her when you were born and my husband handled the arrangements," she said sternly.

"Do you want me to leave?" I countered.

"Don't be stupid," she commanded. "I said I wasn't in favor of your living here, but I didn't say you couldn't do so. Under the right conditions, of course," she added quickly.

"Which are?"

"One, we don't admit to anyone who you really are. At this stage of your history, it would be an insufferable embarrassment. I am known for my philanthropic works. I serve on the boards of various charitable and nonprofit organizations. It will not be considered unusual for me to take in someone such as yourself under the guise of doing something for the downtrodden," she proposed. Her voice was deeper and thicker than my mother's and she cracked a whip on her consonants and vowels like someone practicing for speech class.

"You are to always address me as Mrs. Hudson and when Megan comes here, which will be rarely, I expect, you address her as Mrs. Randolph. Is that understood?"

"Yes," I said, my eyes beginning to bum with the tears that filled underneath my lids. How would she like to feel as if no one wanted to claim her?

"Good."

"You said one so there must be a two," I said after swallowing back my pain. I didn't disguise the fury in my voice. She looked amused rather than upset, however.

"Oh there's a two and a three. Two...I understand from where you come and how you've lived. You're to leave all that outside the door. No smoking, no messing up the house, no leaving clothing strewn about your room like teenagers are so prone to do these days. I don't want the phone ringing off the hook with calls from new boys you've met and you are not to invite anyone here without my permission first. And definitely no loud music!"

She paused as if trying to remember something she had memorized and then continued.

"I want you to maintain a clean and presentable appearance at all times. I often have important visitors and now that you are here, you will represent me as well.

"I hope you will always maintain decent standards of language and the moment I see evidence of drugs or drinking, you'll be asked to leave. Am I clear?"

"My family is poor and we lived in the ghetto, but I know right from wrong," I shot back. "Mama didn't tolerate bad language. We didn't have much, but we were always clean and I never as much as touched any drugs."

"Good," she said. "Let's hope all that's true."

"It's true," I said firmly. "I don't lie like some people."

She gazed at me, her lips relaxing for a moment and her eyes filling with an amused twinkle. Then she returned to her stiff and formal posture.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Hudson
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