Into the Woods (DeBeers 4) - Page 77

"Oh, sure it is. The pool is enormous, with a Jacuzzi of course. He has a clay tennis court, a twohole putting green, a small sailboat and a yacht and..."

The ringing of the phone brought her nauseating gushing to a halt. I expected it to be Randy. He hadn't called me for a while. I answered quickly, eager now to talk to anyone my age,

"Hello." I heard. "This is Winston

Montgomery. Would your mother be available?"

"Just a minute," I said, my throat closing. I held out the receiver and looked away as if I was holding out a bloody knife or something equally horrid. "It's for you."

"Me? Thank you. Grace." she said. The moment she took the receiver in her hand, her tone of voice changed, and her pronunciation became so correct I didn't recognize it.

"This is Jackie Lee," she announced. She listened a moment and then said. "They are so beautiful. Winston. Thank you so much for that kind gesture and those sweet words. I would have to admit it was as true for me. I lost track as well." She listened, "No. I'm fine. I had a good rest, thank you Thank you for asking."

Oh brother, I thought, When did she ever talk to anyone like that?

"Of course." she continued. "When? Why. I don't see why not. I'm sure she would. too, Yes. That's very considerate of you. I look forward to it. Thank you." She listened and laughed. "Goodbye, and thank you again for the beautiful roses."

She cradled the receiver softly and stood there staring at it for a moment, a small smile on her lips. She turned to me as I was clearing the table.

"Well," she said. "Isn't that nice?"

I said nothing. I put the dishes into the sink and turned back to her.

"Winston has invited us to an afternoon on his yacht tomorrow. He'll send the limousine around about ten in the morning. Won't that be fun?"

"Not for me, for you." I said.

"Oh, no. Grace, you'll see. It's a yacht. We'll have lunch on it and..."

"He doesn't really want me along, Mommy," I insisted. "Yes, he does. He made a big point of it. 'Be sure Grace comes,' he said. He was very taken with you last night."

"Why? All I did was show him to his table."

"He watched you. He's very observant, and he prides himself on his judgment of character. You'll like him. honey. He's really very down-to-earth for so wealthy a man."

"I'd better catch up on the schoolwork I've. missed," I said, and finished clearing off the table. "Besides," I added in as phony and affected a voice as I could muster, "I don't have the proper attire for a day on a yacht."

"Oh. I know," Mommy said, taking that as a moment of weakness, my resistance dwindling, "That's one of the things we'll do with the rest of this afternoon: We'll go shopping for some adequate clothing and some new shoes. too."

"Isn't that a foolish expense?" I countered. "just for a day on a yacht?"

"No, honey," she said, her face changing again, this time from adolescent excitement to cold calculation, "No, it's an investment."

"Investment? In what?"

"Our future." she said without a smile. Her tone was sterner, mare determined. "just do what I ask," she said. She put the roses into a vase and stepped back, admiring them. "Beautiful," she muttered, and then turned to me. "Aren't they?"

"Yes," I admitted.

She smiled again. "You'll set. You'll have a good time tomorrow, Grace, and you deserve that. honey. You deserve as much happiness as possible. and I'm going to be certain you will have it. I'll get ready to go out," she concluded before I could respond.

She returned to her bedroom. I looked at the flowers again, an explosion of color. opulent, overwhelming the modest condo. It was like putting a diamond ring on a homeless bag lady, I thought. Everything seemed so unreal to me, especially everything that had happened over the last week or so. My world was truly topsy-turvy, and to make sense out of any of it seemed impossible. I couldn't help but feel I was being swept along by some winds of fate.

Stop resisting Just accept, a voice inside me was urging. See to it that you restore laughter and smiles and do not make them painful or resent them. This is your heart giving you a direct order, Sailor Girl.

Aye, aye, I wanted to say.

And, of course. I wanted to salute.

Tags: V.C. Andrews De Beers Horror
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