"Then Grandma Olivia might be the biggest sinner of all," I blurted and Aunt Sara's face nearly collapsed with shock. She turned white.

"If Jacob ever heard you say such a terrible thing--"

"Don't worry, Aunt Sara. I won't say it again. If you can't say something nice about someone, don't say anything," I reminded her.

"Yes." She nodded. "Oh dear, oh dear," she chanted as she returned to the kitchen.

I felt bad about shocking her with my outburst, but I was so frustrated and angry about the way this family treated. Grandma Belinda that I felt like lashing out at all of them, all of them with their holierthan-thou attitudes, gazing down their noses at the rest of us as if they stood on Mount Olympus. Even if something was wrong with Grandma Belinda and she babbled silly things, confusing time and place, that wasn't a reason to ostracize her and forbid everyone from seeing her. Maybe there was another reason why destiny brought me here, I thought. Maybe it was for Grandma Belinda, who otherwise had no one to come to her defense but the shadowy figures of her flustered memory.

When I got to town, I found the streets jammed with people and traffic. There were many families, mothers and fathers walking with their children, everyone holding hands, their faces full of smiles, their eyes bright with excitement as they gazed at the pretty things in store windows or at other people rushing by on the way to restaurants, the dock, and the shops. I couldn't help standing wistfully and watch them walk by. Why couldn't that teenage girl be me and that man and woman be my real father and mother? Why couldn't I lead a normal life and be on vacation with my parents? What had turned fate in my direction and chosen me to be the one who had to flounder about searching for her identity?

A chorus of horns and then loud laughter shook me out of my self-pity. When I looked around, a smile returned to my face. Provincetown on weekends was filled with excitement. Yes, these people were tourists and some of them littered and some of them drove badly or complained vehemently about prices, but most enjoyed themselves and were appreciative of the ocean, and respected and admired the fishermen and boatmen. Shop owners, restaurant owners, hotel and bed-and-breakfast owners needed the business. To me, those who were securely planted in their wealth and property here and who looked down on all this were selfish and arrogant. They lived in their own world and Grandma Olivia was queen of it, I thought.

Well, as long as I lived here, I would never be like that. I wouldn't become one of them no matter how much money I inherited, I vowed.

I hurried on toward the Sea and Shell, a small, inexpensive eatery near the dock. When I turned a corner, looking back when I should have been looking forward, I rammed into someone who shouted, "Whoa, there!" I gazed up and into the eyes of the very handsome and distinguished looking man I knew to be Adam Jackson's father, T. J. Jackson, one of the most prominent attorneys in Provincetown. Before this, I had seen him only from a distance at school functions or on the street. Whenever he saw me, he looked at me with a very pensive look on his face. I thought that was because of something Adam might have told him about me, something nasty of course.

Adam, his sister Michelle, and his mother, Ann, a very attractive brunette who was just as tall as her husband, stood directly behind Mr. Jackson. Adam gave me his usual smirk of self-confidence, but Michelle grimaced with disgust. Her shiny braces glittered on her teeth, making her mouth as mechanical and cold looking as her dull brown eyes. She was thirteen, going into the eighth grade, and from what I had heard, just as snobby as a skunk.

"Well, hello," Mr. Jackson said, widening his smile when he recognized me.

"I'm sorry," I said,

"That's all right. No harm done. Where are you heading in such a hurry?"

"I'm late. I have to meet my cousins for lunch," I said, avoiding Adam's gaze. Ever since the time on the beach and the subsequent fight Cary had with Adam in the cafeteria, we had had little to say to each other. He had-graduated and was going off to college in late August. He had told me he would become a lawyer like his father, although he didn't seem to have any great passion to be an attorney. He was doing just what was expected of him.

I had never really been this close to his mother before. She was a very pretty woman with big green eyes and a nose and mouth so perfectly shaped she could have been a model. She reminded me a lot of Mommy, because she had the same high cheekbones and elegant neck. I wondered if she had ever wanted to be a model, too. She didn't smile, so much as keep a soft and friendly look in her eyes and mouth.

"Well, if you're too late, you're welcome to join us for lunch," Adam's father offered. Michelle shifted her weight to her other foot and swung her eyes toward the sky with a grunt of annoyance.

"Thank you, but I'm sure they're waiting for me."

"We're going right in here," he continued, pointing to one of the more expensive Provincetown restaurants. "Come right back and join us if you've missed them," he insisted.

"Thank you."

"I never had the opportunity to tell you how much I enjoyed your fiddle playing at the variety show," he said. "Wasn't she something, Ann?"

"Yes, she was," Adam's mother said with a small smile. "A very nice surprise."

"How's your grandmother these days? I haven't seen her in quite a while," Adam's father continued as if we had all the time in the world to waste away. In truth, only Michelle seemed impatient and bothered. Adam continued his self-satisfied smirk, enjoying my d

iscomfort. His mother looked patient and very friendly.

"She's very well, thank you," I said.

"Well, perhaps we can treat you to lunch another time," Adam's father said. I gazed at his soft blue eyes and gentle smile. I didn't know whether lawyers could turn the charm on and off at will because of the work they did in court before juries, but he seemed so sincere and warm, I almost wished I could have lunch with him. "It's the least we can do to show our appreciation for the fine performance you gave," he added. "Don't stop playing that fiddle.

"I won't. Thank you," I said and 'hurried away confused as to why he seemed so interested in me. It was hard to believe that someone as nasty as Adam came from such nice parents.

Cary and May were just finishing their sandwiches when I arrived at the Sea and Shell.

"Sorry I was late," I said sliding across from them in the booth. "I didn't know Grandma Olivia was having Raymond bring me to her after the visit for an interrogation."

"Interrogation?"

"An inquisition is more like it."

Tags: V.C. Andrews Logan Horror
Source: readsnovelonline.net