Flowers in the Attic (Dollanganger 1)

"Carrie ate the last cracker."

"Carrie, why didn't you share those crackers with

your brother?"

"He didn't want none then."

Two o'clock. Now all of us were starving. We had

trained our stomachs to eat at twelve o'clock sharp.

Whatever was keeping Momma? Was she going to eat

first herself, and then bring us our food? She hadn't

told it that way.

A little after three o'clock, Momma rushed in,

bearing a huge silver tray laden with covered dishes.

She wore a dress of periwinkle-blue wool jersey, and

her hair was waved back from her face and caught

low at the nape of her neck with a silver barrette. Boy,

did she look pretty!

"I know you're starving," she immediately began

to apologize, "but my father changed his mind and

decided at the last minute to use his wheelchair and

eat with the rest of us." She threw us a harried smile.

"Your table-setting is lovely, Cathy. You did

everything just right. I'm sorry I forgot the flowers. I

shouldn't have forgotten. We have nine guests, all

busy talking to me, and asking a thousand questions

about where I was for so long, and you just don't

know the trouble I had slipping into the butler's pantry

when John wasn't looking--that man has eyes in back

of his head. And you never saw anyone hop up and

down as much as I did; the guests must have thought I

was very impolite, or just plain foolish--but I did

manage to fill your dishes, and hide them away, then