She nodded and looked at Mama again. “Maybe she can’t live without him. I’ve been told we’re all living with one terrible disease or another dormant inside us, just waiting for our immune systems to weaken. Grief does that, grief and great loss.”

“Then you’ll live forever,” I said.

She looked at me, shook her head, and walked out.

I didn’t speak to her again until Uncle Alain arrived and insisted on seeing her. He was taller than Mama, very slim, with hair a shade darker and eyes that seemed to go from blue to green depending on his moods. Green was for the more serious ones. Mama and he shared some of the same facial features, their noses, high cheekbones, and perfect lips. I remembered that Uncle Alain was always dapper, elegant, and fastidious about his appearance. Everything always matched perfectly, with clear, correct c

reases in his pants and no wrinkles in his shirts. He loved shoes, especially soft Italian leather, and always wore a subtle cologne, not too sweet but always interesting, like the discovery of a new flower.

He called me when he landed. I waited for him at the house, but I didn’t call Roxy.

“How grown up you are,” was his first comment when I opened the door. “Petite Emmie.” He hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks. Then he looked past me. “Roxy isn’t here?”

“No, she doesn’t live here, Uncle Alain.”

He nodded and closed the door. I took him to our guest bedroom.

“Are you tired?” I asked.

“No. I had a good flight. I’ll shower and dress, and we’ll go over to the hospital. Then I was hoping I could take you both to dinner.”

“Both?”

“You and Roxy,” he said.

“Oh. I’ll see if she’s available,” I said, trying to disguise my bitterness.

I left him to get himself ready and called Roxy. She answered on the second ring.

“What?” she asked in a clipped voice. I knew what she was expecting.

“Uncle Alain is here. We’re going to the hospital soon, and he was hoping that afterward he could take you and me to dinner. Are you free for dinner tonight, or do you have a client?”

“I’ll be at the hospital, M. And yes, I’m free,” she said.

She hung up to show me she wasn’t going to tolerate any more negativity from me. I was out of my class when it came to competing with her, anyway, I thought. She was the expert. Anger and hate were infrequent companions of mine. The battles they brought along with them were battles I was not used to waging. She was a veteran of those wars.

I made some coffee for Uncle Alain and some toast with cheese so he could have something before we left.

“You’ve been here by yourself whenever your mother is in the hospital?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s no problem, Uncle Alain.”

“Tell me about Roxy. When did she come back? Where is she living? What is she doing?”

Roxy would always be more interesting than I was, I thought. Why should it come as any surprise? I was still more interested in Evan than I would ever be in Richard. I had wondered if that meant evil was always a strong part of us and if life was a constant battle to keep it subdued. I was wondering about it even more now. Who wasn’t more excited about breaking rules in school, disobeying their parents, and experiencing the most forbidden things?

“She came back because I sent a letter to her about Papa’s death. I thought that might bring her around to see Mama, but for a long time, she didn’t respond. She was as angry at Mama as she was at Papa, because Mama didn’t stop him from throwing her out.”

“I know. Your mama has always regretted that.”

“Finally, Roxy broke down and came to the hospital when Mama was in surgery.”

He sipped his coffee and nodded. “She has your father’s headstrong ways. Your mother always thought that was why they didn’t get along. They were too alike. So where is she living?”

I described the hotel. He knew she had the name Fleur du Coeur.

“This is what she still does?”

Tags: V.C. Andrews The Forbidden Horror
Source: readsnovelonline.net