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“Like the new William Arnold?”

She dropped her soft smile. I could almost hear it shatter on her lap. “He doesn’t know where to put his energy. This boy has helped him way more than he’s helped this boy.”

I was about to say, What about me? He could put his energy in me, but she anticipated it or saw it in my face.

“A man, especially a man like your grandfather, is more comfortable devoting himself to sons and grandsons.”

“He’s not either one. He’s a stranger,” I insisted.

“For now,” she replied, which took me aback. What did that mean? “Look,” she continued, “I don’t know how much of a recuperation he’s going to enjoy. I’ve spent time with the doctor, of course, the neurologist, and was given as full a diagnosis as he had, but . . .”

“When?”

“I went with your grandfather before I agreed to take on this position. It was important that I knew where the boy stood in relation to what’s happened to him. There is some doubt that he will have a full recuperation. And I’m not even talking about the psychological and emotional wounds. Is he a big problem to take on? Yes, a very big problem. I can’t say I’m not surprised at how determined your grandfather is to make a difference in his life, but rather than fight it, why not become part of it?”

“Part of it?”

“Really. You don’t have to consider him your brother or anything. Just think of him as a child who needs comfort, support.”

“Not love?” I asked.

She stared at me a moment. She knew I was being quite sarcastic. “Yes, Clara Sue, that, of course, but that’s not something you just toss into the mix. It has to be something that develops. I know you’re very bright. You’re quite attractive, too. I’m sure you’re popular in school. You’re all that now, and I think you’re quite mature for your age.”

“How do you know that? You haven’t been here that long, and we’ve hardly spoken to each other,” I challenged. Both Grandma Arnold and my grandfather had by their example instilled in me an intolerance for false compliments.

“Let’s just say you’re more mature than I was at you age. I don’t have to be around you long or talk to you long to realize and expect it. I’ve seen it too often. Tragedy makes you grow up faster.”

“Who wants to?” I shot back. “Especially because of all that.”

“We don’t have much choice about it. I’m sure you were quite the big sister for your little brother, much more than other girls your age would be.”

She was right, but I didn’t feel like agreeing with her about anything, ever.

“Now, what I’m asking you to consider is how you were, too, when your parents were killed in that accident, how lost you were, even though you still had your grandparents, and just imagine it’s the same for him. For him, it’s like his whole family, whoever they were and how many there were, is gone. He doesn’t even have a distant cousin at this point.”

“No one knows any of that for sure yet.”

“It’s what we know right now, and you can deal only with what you do know, right?” she said, sounding more like she was pleading.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I really don’t want to think about it.”

“Look. Maybe this will be a big disaster . . . the medical attention, the counseling, the expensive changes and machinery being brought into the house, but for now, why not contribute something toward the resolution?”

“What machinery?”

She sat back. “Your grandfather is turning the den into a therapy room. He has hired a professional therapist to design it and treat William. It will all be set up rather quickly.”

“William,” I said, as if the name had become profanity. I looked away.

“He’s only trying to make him comfortable. Everyone agrees that if the boy feels safe and comfortable, he’ll recuperate quicker.”

“Make him comfortable, make him comfortable,” I shot back. “When does he try to make me comfortable?”

“You know he does, he has,” she said, with that comforting smile I was beginning to hate. I was sure she was now an expert at deflecting nasty remarks thrown at her by patients soaked in their own self-pity.

“You’re just saying all this because you want to keep your job. He’s probably paying you more than you usually get, right?”

“I have plenty of offers for work, Clara Sue. That’s never been a problem for me.”


Tags: V.C. Andrews Young Adult