Flowers in the Attic (Dollanganger 1)

day, now that the attic was too cold to limber up in. I

threw my grandmother a quick glance, trying to read

her reactions to this.

The grandmother had no patience for those who

lost control and made waves. "Don't be ridiculous,

Corrine. All children run high fevers when they are

sick. Doesn't mean a thing You should know that by

now. A cold is just a cold."

Chris jerked his head up from the book he was

pursuing. He believed the twins had the flu, though

how they had caught the virus he couldn't guess. The grandmother continued: "Doctors, what do

they know about curing a cold? We know just as

much. There are only three things to do: stay in bed,

drink lots of liquids, and take aspirins-- what else?

And aren't we doing all of those things?" She flashed me a mean look. "Stop swinging your legs, girl. You make me nervous." Again she directed her eyes, and her words, at our mother. "Now, my mother had a saying, colds take three days coming, three days

staying, and three days leaving."

"What if they have the flu?" asked Chris. The

grandmother turned her back and ignored his

question. She didn't like his face; he resembled our

father too much. "I hate it when people who should

know better question those who are older and far

wiser. Everyone knows the rule for colds: six days to

start and stay, and three days to leave. That's the way

it is--they'll recover."

As the grandmother predicted, the twins

recovered. Not in nine days. . . in nineteen days. Only

bed rest, aspirins, and fluids did the trick--no

perscriptions from a doctor to help them back to

health more quickly. By day the twins stayed in the

same bed; by night Carrie slept with me, and Cory