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Authors: V.C. Andrews

Misty (16 page)

BOOK: Misty
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L
loyd told the police that I had no knowledge of the robbery and I did not know what he was doing when he stopped at the convenience store, but I had to go to court anyway. Daddy hired a lawyer for me. Lloyd had someone from the public defender's office. Because of his previous record, he was sent to a juvenile facility. I was put on probation but with the stipulation that I begin to see a therapist. It was what the school recommended too.

“For a while both my parents acted as if they had been given lobotomies by my actions. I never saw them so quiet. I think they were just terrified. I was expecting them to shout and blame each other as usual, but they sat next to each other in the courthouse and agreed with the attorney and with each other that neither had paid
enough attention to me and that I was reacting to their breakup.

“Finally, I thought, finally, the static will stop.

“Of course, that truce didn't last long. They're both back to their old selves again, but for a short time at least, I felt relieved.”

“Did you ever hear from Lloyd again?” Jade asked.

“I received a letter from him about a month later. The only reason I got it was I happened to be there when the mail arrived. I'm sure my mother would have torn it up if she had found it first. It was full of apologies. He said he was doing all right and at least there were no Beverlys where he was. I wrote back, but I had to do it secretly, of course. I told him to send his next letter care of Darlene Stratton, but I haven't heard from him since.

“Things are more or less back to normal at my house. My mother is on her tenth or eleventh new male acquaintance, as she calls them, but there are still frequent meetings of the MHA at our house. There seems to be more of them, too. They cackle so much and so loudly, I have to turn my music up to drown them out.

“For a while afterward, my father was a little better about keeping his dates with me. We had some nice weekends together, one trip up to Santa Barbara and one to San Diego. I even began to enjoy Ariel's company, too. She doesn't seem as worried about my behavior. I know a lot of people started to think of me as reckless and maybe even as dangerous as Lloyd. Who knows what I would do?

“Ariel's just. . .air molded into this soft, pretty person. Funny, but now I keep waiting for Daddy to hurt her
and I feel sorry for her. He has started to voice little complaints about her, about the way she keeps the apartment, her inability to boil water, her vapid conversation.

“That's right, Daddy used Charles Allen's very word, ‘vapid.'

“Maybe Mommy is right. Maybe all men are monsters, even daddies.”

I glanced at Doctor Marlowe.

“I guess I still suffer from a great deal of anger, right, Doctor Marlowe?”

“It's a concern of mine,” she admitted.

I smiled at the others.

“Recognizing your problem is the first step toward solving it,” I recited.

Jade laughed and Star relaxed her lips with an impish gleam in her eyes. Cathy looked nervously at Doctor Marlowe.

“Well,” Doctor Marlowe said, “this has been a good beginning. Wouldn't you all agree? Cathy?” she asked, spotlighting her.

Cathy looked at me and nodded.

“Yes,” she said softly.

We heard a small rap on the door and looked up to see Emma.

“I don't mean to interrupt, Doctor Marlowe, but you told me to let you know when their rides arrived. Jade's chauffeur is here and Star's grandmother and Cathy's mother have arrived as well.”

“I have to call my mother,” I said.

“You can use the phone on my desk, Misty,” Doctor Marlowe said.

Everyone rose.

“Shall we say the same time tomorrow then?” Doctor Marlowe asked.

“Whose turn is it tomorrow?” Star asked.

“How about you?” Doctor Marlowe countered.

Star shrugged, gazing at me. I dialed my mother and punched four when the answering machine began. It forwarded the call to her callular. When she said hello, I heard laughter around her.

“I'm ready. It's time. Where are you?” I asked.

“Oh, we were just finishing. I'll be right there, honey. How did it go?”

“Peachy keen,” I said. “I'm cured.”

She laughed nervously and repeated she was on her way.

The others waited for me and we started to walk out together.

“Misty, do you want to wait for your mother inside?” Dr. Marlowe asked.

“No, it's too nice out. I'm fine,” I said.

“Okay. Bye,” she said and we all stepped out.

We paused outside the door. I saw Cathy's mother studying us. She was a small woman who wore thick glasses and her dark brown hair cut very short. Jade's chauffeur looked bored and nearly asleep. Star's grandmother waved. Her modest older car with its dents and scrapes looked so out of place between the limousine and Cat's mother's late-model Taurus.

“That took a lot of guts today,” Jade told me. “I hope we're all as honest and forthcoming,” she added her eyes fixed on Star.

“Maybe all our stories aren't as interesting,” Star said. “What about you?” she asked Cathy. “Are you going to be as honest and forthcoming?”

Cathy looked very frightened, shook her head, and hurried toward her mother and their car.

“See you tomorrow, Cat,” I called.

She looked back, surprised at the use of a nickname, but a small smile on her lips.

“Cat?” Jade said and I explained why I called her that.

“Yes, that fits,” she said.

“It doesn't matter. She's probably not even coming back,” Star said.

“Well, it would help if you didn't try to scare the hell out of her,” Jade muttered.

“Scare the hell out of her? How did I scare the hell out of her?”

“You just have that look,” Jade said.

“What look is that?”

“Like you're going to eat her alive,” Jade said. Star looked angry for a moment and then smiled.

“Well, from now on, I'll try to be sweet and prissy like you Beverlys,” she said and sauntered off.

I had to laugh.

“She's not funny,” Jade said.

“Yes she is. And I don't think she's as bad as you make her out to be.”

“Oh, really?” Jade demanded sounding annoyed that I had disagreed with her.

“And I wonder what her story will be like tomorrow.”

Jade was quiet for a moment and then nodded.

“Yeah, I wonder,” she said.

We watched Cathy and her mother drive off. Cathy had her head down and her mother was talking at her. She looked like she was lecturing her. Then Star and her grandmother drove past us. Star looked out and pulled her shoulders back, her head up, pretending to be a snob. Even Jade laughed.

She continued to stand there, waiting with me.

“Don't you have to go? Your chauffeur's been here awhile.”

“He can wait. He gets paid enough,” she said.

“My mother will be here any minute,” I said. “It's all right.”

She nodded, but still hesitated as though she didn't want the conversation to end. She held onto the moment as if it was a raft in a treacherous sea.

“Doctor Marlowe's okay, isn't she? I mean, she's not what you would expect a therapist to be,” Jade said.

“I do like her, yes. Do you think she's helping you, then?”

“I suppose. Now, we're all supposed to help each other, right?” Jade asked.

“Right,” I said smiling.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, “when Star will be the star.” She laughed at her own joke.

“I wouldn't mess with her,” I called as Jade started toward her limousine. She looked back at me and smiled. She's really a very pretty girl, I thought. I bet my boyfriend stories were nothing compared to hers.

I watched her get in and the limousine start away. She waved and in moments, was gone like the others.

The sun was almost directly above the house now. It
was warmer, but there was still a nice breeze. I wasn't as tired as I expected I might be after talking so much. In fact, I felt lighter, even more energetic. It was as if I had truly unloaded my dark baggage of trouble for a while.

Why was it so hard to be happy? I wondered. Was anyone ever happy? Even Doctor Marlowe?

Was Daddy happier now? Would Mommy ever be happy again?

What about me?

My mother would be here any moment and we would start for home. Across the city, we four girls went off in different directions, our lives like four comets in space, traveling through the dark.

For a short while, thanks to Doctor Marlowe, our paths would cross. We would share smiles and tears, laughter and heartbreak and we would hopefully learn that we were not as alone as we had thought.

Maybe that was enough.

Maybe we really could start again, holding hands, marching out this door, together, like renewed blossoms, welcoming the sun.

Maybe.

 

POCKET BOOKS
PROUDLY PRESENTS

STAR
V.C. Andrews®

The second book in the
WILDFLOWERS series.

Coming soon in paperback
from Pocket Books

The following is a preview of
STAR
. . .

Prologue

W
hen my grandmother drove me to Doctor Marlowe's again for my second group-therapy session, I sat in the car for a few moments and thought, girl, just have her turn around and take you home. What good is it going to do you to tell your troubles to these three rich white girls, although I did think Cathy—or Cat, as Misty called her—wasn't as well-to-do as Misty and Jade seemed to be.

As we drove into Doctor Marlowe's driveway, I saw Jade's chauffeured limousine pull away, so I knew I wasn't the first to arrive. I couldn't help wondering if Cat was coming back. The whole time Misty talked yesterday, Cathy the cat looked like she was sitting on a cold, wet park bench, ready to
leap off and scoot into a dark alley first chance she got. Most of the time Misty talked, she sighed and squirmed and looked at the ceiling and the floor, everywhere but at us or at Doctor Marlowe. If she could have crawled under her seat, she would have, I thought.

My story wasn't at all like Misty's. It wasn't about spoiled rich boys and big houses with ballrooms and such. I wasn't going to complain about all the meaningless toys and dolls and clothes I was given. What I was given probably wouldn't fill a corner in one of their rooms anyway. And I wasn't going to describe parents who couldn't see eye to eye about their egos. The last thing Mommy worried about was her makeup, her complexion, and whether or not her hair and clothes were in style. I couldn't even begin to imagine Daddy going to fancy gyms and wearing expensive sweat suits. If Cathy the cat thought Misty's descriptions of what she called a hard life were difficult to swallow, she'd surely choke to death in Doctor Marlowe's office once I began telling about my life.

The thing is, did I want to begin? What were these girls going to tell me about me and my troubles that I didn't already know myself, huh? What did Doctor Marlowe expect of us? I couldn't tell Misty anything that would have helped her yesterday. She wouldn't be able to tell me anything that could help me today. And that Jade . . . I was sure she'd be sitting there with her nose pointed at the
ceiling, refusing to lower herself to look my way. I bet she'd make me feel like she was doing me a favor just staying in the room while I talked.

I didn't like this at all, no, ma'am. I had tossed and turned and fretted about it quite a while last night, worried they might laugh at me or think my story was beneath them. I didn't want to go in there and have to look at their smiles of ridicule.

Granny looked at me, surprised at my hesitation.

“What do you plan on doing, Star, just sitting there in the car all morning? You know I've got chores to run.”

“Coming here is a waste of time, Granny.” I looked at her. “It is!”

“Yeah, well the doctors and the judge don't think so and that's what counts here, Star, so you just better get on in there and do what you're supposed to do. I can't abide any more trouble. Not with this old heart ticking down like some tired old grandfather clock.”

Granny knew that was all she had to say to get me to do what she wanted. There was nothing I feared more for myself and my brother Rodney than her getting another heart attack or getting sick and dying on us. She was the only one left in the world who cared about us and loved us, and she was the only one we cared to love.

I opened the car door and started to slide out.

“Okay,” she sang to the front window, “I guess there's no sugar for me this morning.”

I shook my head and leaned over to give her a kiss on her plump right cheek. Then she grabbed my hand as I turned away and held it so tightly it sent a shiver down the bone and into my spine. Her face was like one of her pieces of antique china, full of tiny cracks, still shiny, but on the verge of shattering the moment it was tapped a bit too hard.

BOOK: Misty
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