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"I am." She turned and looked back at me. "You know I am." I looked down.

"Go on, say it. April. Say it!" she screamed. I starred to cry.

"Brenda, please don't do this." Celia said.

She looked at Celia and then turned around. "You're right. It's stupid to have regrets. You play your best, and that's the end of it. Home team loses, period, end of sentence."

For the rest of the way, we drove home in silence.

I went to my room immediately to lie down. Brenda started to make calls from Daddy's office. and Celia fixed something for us all to eat. Every once in a while, even though I was lying quietly. I felt my heart begin to race as though the reality came into my body in jolts and traveled with electric speed through my veins and bones until it reached my heart.

I heard the phone ringing. A few minutes later, it rang again.

Celia came to my door. "Come have some tea or coffee and a sandwich or something. April."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know, but you should eat. anyway. You need to keep up your strength. You don't want to faint again, and there's a great deal left to do."

I thought about that. It was just starting to sink into my brain, which was probably like quicksand by now. What sank in wasn't just the reality of Mama being one but also the questions that came along with it.

What would happen to me? Where would I go? What would happen to Brenda's college career and her athletic career? Who would take care of us

financially? Was all that still in place?

Was it selfish to wonder about these things? A part of me thought so and kept me from bringing any of it up when I went out and joined them in the dining room. Brenda sat sipping coffee and nibbling on a scoop of tuna salad and some crackers. I looked at my plate and sank into my seat. Celia brought in some ice water in a pitcher and her own plate.

"Were you able to locate your uncle?" she asked Brenda.

I looked up with expectation. Yes. Uncle Palaver, How we needed him now.

"My mother had his itinerary on the desk. He's in a place called Beaumont. Texas. Someone from the theater went to his mobile home and got him to call me." She looked at me. "You kno

w what he said when I told him what had happened?"

I shook my head.

"He said Destiny predicted it. He said she has clairvoyant powers. Can you imagine?" she asked Celia. "Talking about things like that at this time?"

"He was just in shock. People say strange things," Celia said. "I guess."

"Is he coming here?" I asked.

"He's on his way. He has to make connections through Dallas. He called back to say he would be in Memphis early in the morning and would rent a car. He should be here before eight."

She toyed with her tuna a moment and then rose.

"I've got to call the funeral home and the minister," she said, but the phone rang before she could return to the office, and it was the minister. Reverend Hastings, who had already heard. Apparently, all the clergy had a direct line to the hospital emergency room and the morgue. I listened vaguely, still dazed. as Brenda discussed the arrangements.

Celia listened, too, but with that soft, small smile on her lips. "She's so strong," she said shaking her head and looking toward the kitchen. "Like a thick tree trunk in the wind. unmovable. But later." she added, turning back to me. later..."

Later what? I wondered. but I didn't ask. I could only imagine what that meant. Brenda would break down and cry on her shoulder? Or rant and rave and need to be calmed? Would she be more like me and maybe faint?

I rose and walked down the hallway to Mama's bedroom. Her bed was still unmade, of course, and the pillow still had the impression of her head. I went to the bed and sat and stared at the pillow. I saw a strand of her hair and carefully plucked it off the pillow, holding it in my hands. It was a part of Mama. Her DNA was in this, her physical identity. I wrapped it around my finger and kissed it.

Brenda came to the doorway. She didn't ask me what I was doing or why I was in there.

"Celia and I are going to the funeral parlor. April. We have to choose a coffin."


Tags: V.C. Andrews Shadows Horror