Misty (Wildflowers 1) - Page 9

"Take another drink of your lemonade," Doctor Marlowe said softly. "Go ahead, Misty."

I drew in my breath and did what she said. Everyo

ne's eyes were on me. I closed my own for a moment, counted to five and opened them again. Doctor Marlowe nodded softly.

"You want to stop?" she asked.

"No," I snapped. I drank some more lemonade.

"My mother still has those cards," I continued. "She doesn't want me to know she still has them, but she does. I saw them in a box in the back of her closet. There are lots of funny cards, cards my daddy sent her for no special reason except to say how much he loved her or how beautiful he thought she was and how lucky he was to have her."

I fixed my eyes on Doctor Marlowe.

"I've asked you before," I said, my voice dripping with rage, "but how can people say such things to each other and mean it so much at the time and just forget they ever said them?"

I saw she wasn't going to offer me an answer, so before she could ask her usual "What do you think?" I just looked away again and continued.

"When I was a little girl, I did think I might become as beautiful as my mother. People used to say I looked like her. We had the same nose or the same mouth. I've got Daddy's eyes. I know that, but that's okay because he has beautiful eyes. Mommy will reluctantly admit that too, even today. She doesn't want anyone to think that someone with her good looks would marry an ugly man. It's kind of a. . what do you call it . .

"Paradox?" Star offered.

"Yes, paradox. Thanks. Anyway, what I mean is Mommy didn't mind my mimicking her,

experimenting with makeup and trying to get my hair exactly as she wore hers. She took it as a compliment. I tried to walk like her, eat like her, talk like her because I thought that was what Ma '. my father fall in love with her and I wanted my father to always love me," I said.

"I asked my mother why I don't have a bigger bosom, and she told me I was fine because I was perky. Perky and cute, that's me. I feel like I'm twelve," I said.

When I glanced at Cathy, she looked guilty and actually folded her arms over her own large breasts. Like she could ever hide them, I thought. I sighed and went on.

Suddenly Cathy took such a deep breath, we all paused to look at her. Her eyes were directed to the ceiling and she had her hands pressed against her bosom like someone who was reciting a prayer. I looked at Star who shrugged. Doctor Marlowe sipped some lemonade and waited. I hated her patience, her damn tolerance and understanding. Where were her bruises hidden, her pain and disappointments? I felt like turning my rage on her. She saw the angry look in my eyes,

"Let's take a bathroom break," she said.

"I don't have to go," I said. I wanted to keep talking I knew she was handling me. If there was one thing I hated more than anything, it was being handled.

"Well, I've got to go," Jade said and sauntered out as if she was a runway model.

Star looked over at me, then stood up.

Cathy's eyes narrowed before she looked down again.

And I sat back against the cushions of the couch and wondered what it was about this little group that made me able to share the deepest secrets of my put-away heart with them.

3

When Jade returned, she plucked a cookie from the tray and sat. Then she thought for a moment, leaned over and took the plate to offer one to Cathy, who gazed at them as if they were forbidden fruit.

"It's only a cookie," Jade said. "Don't consider it a life threatening decision."

Cathy gingerly took one off the plate and brought it to her mouth slowly, barely opening her lips.

"Girl, it's not poison," Star said sharply and took a bite from the cookie in her hand as if to prove it.

I looked at Doctor Marlowe and saw something in her eyes that told me she was very interested in how we behaved toward each other. For her, this was as much an experiment, perhaps, as it was for us.

She turned back to me and nodded. I looked out the window and made them all wait. After all, they had interrupted me, hadn't they?

"I know my father wanted more children. That was actually the first big fight I can remember," I began, still gazing out the window. Slowly, I turned back to them.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Wildflowers
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