Flowers in the Attic (Dollanganger 1)

from one another, fussily stirring the food into

mishmash, they managed to put away three or four

ounces of food.

While Chris was longing for dessert, pumpkin pie,

or mince- meat pie, I began to clear away the table.

Then, for some reason extraordinaire, Chris began to

help! I couldn't believe it. He smiled at me

disarmingly, and even kissed my cheeks. And, boy, if

good food could do that for a man, I was all for

learning gourmet cooking. He even picked up his

socks before he came to help me wash and dry the

dishes, glasses, and silverware.

Ten minutes after Chris and I had everything

neatly stored away under the table and covered over

with the clean towel, the twins simultaneously

announced, "We're hungry! Our stomachs hurt!" Chris read on at his desk. I got up from the bed

after laying aside Lorna Doone, and without saying

one word, I gave to each of the twins a peanut-butterand-jelly sandwich from the picnic basket.

As they ate, taking tiny bites, I threw myself down on the bed and watched them with real puzzlement. Why did they enjoy that junk? Being a parent wasn't

as easy as I used to presume, nor was it such a delight. "Don't sit on the floor, Cory. It's colder down

there than in a chair."

.

The very next day, Cory came down with a severe

cold. His small face was red and hot. He complained

that he ached all over and his bones hurt. "Cathy,

where is my momma, my real momma?" Oh, how he

wanted his mother. Finally, she did show up. Immediately she bec

ame anxious as she viewed

Cory's flushed face, and she rushed away to fetch a

thermometer. Unhappily, she returned, trailed by the