Page 40 of Melody (Logan 1)

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"I better get ready for dinner," I told her and pointed to Laura's dress. I pantomimed bringing food to my mouth. She nodded and scooped up her math book and papers to go off and get dressed herself.

I put my fiddle away, thinking about Daddy, recalling him, Papa George, and Mama Arlene sitting on their patio and listening to me practice. How I missed them all!

Aunt Sara had made it sound as if dressing for dinner was very important in this house. I went to the bathroom and washed up, then returned to my room's vanity mirror to fix my hair. I wanted to clear away all of Laura's things and make room for my own, but I remembered Aunt Sara asking me not to move anything. I found small places for my own stuff and crowded everything in together.

Laura's blue dress was snug, especially around my bosom. I had to leave the top two buttons undone, but it was somehow important to Aunt Sara that I wear it.

Maybe it was because I was wearing this clinging dress, but when I gazed at myself in the mirror, I had a new sense of myself, a feeling that I had reached a level of femininity. Despite the way Mommy always talked about herself, I felt guilty being proud of my looks, my figure. In church the preacher called it a sin of pride.

But as I ran my hands over my bosom and down the sides of my body to my hips, turning and inspecting myself, I thought that I just might look pretty. Perhaps I, too, would turn men's heads the way Mommy did. Was it sinful to think like this?

A loud rapping on the door shattered my moment of introspection, making me feel as if I had been caught doing something naughty.

"It's time to come down," Cary growled. "My father doesn't like us to be late."

"I'm coming." I fixed a loose strand of hair. I opened the door. Cary and May stood outside in the hallway, waiting.

I saw his look of surprise. The mask of sternness and fury shattered. He looked handsome with his hair brushed back. He wore a tie and a nice pair of slacks.

"That's one of Laura's dresses," he whispered.

Panicky butterflies were on the wing again, battering my brain with doubts, buffeting my heart with indecision. Perhaps I shouldn't have put on her dress. Maybe I was violating another unwritten code in this confusing house.

"Your mother picked it out for me to wear to dinner," I replied.

The answer satisfied him and his face softened. May took my hand. Cary glanced at her and then pivoted and strutted to the stairway, leading us down. May signed to me and I imagined she said, "You look very nice."

Uncle Jacob was seated at the table. His hair was wet and brushed back, parted in the middle. He was cleanly shaven and wearing a white shirt, a tie, and slacks. Cary glanced at me before sitting. May followed. I hesitated.

"I'll see if Aunt Sara needs help," I said. Uncle Jacob nodded and I went into the kitchen. "Can I help you bring the food to the table, Aunt Sara?"

She turned from the stove.

"Of course, dear. That's what Laura always did." She nodded at the bowls of vegetables and the potatoes, the bread and the cranberry sauce.

I started to bring out the food. Uncle Jacob had his Bible open and was silently reading. Cary and May sat ramrod straight, waiting, but Cary's eyes lifted to follow my movements around the table. The last thing I brought in was a pitcher of ice water. I poured some in everyone's glass and then sat as Aunt Sara brought out the roast chicken. She smiled at me and took her seat.

"Let us give thanks," Uncle Jacob said. Everyone lowered his head. "Lord, we thank you for the food we are about to enjoy."

I thought that was it when everyone looked up, but Uncle Jacob handed Cary the Bible.

"It's your turn, son."

Cary shot a look at me and then gazed at the pages Uncle Jacob had opened for him.

"What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness and go after that which is lost, until he find it?" Cary read in a voice so hard and deep, I had to look twice to be sure he was reading.

He continued. "And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.

"And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbors, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost."

"Good." Uncle Jacob took the Bible. He nodded to Aunt Sara and she rose to serve the vegetables, beginning with Uncle Jacob.

As he cut the roast chicken, he finally looked at me. "I see that you're settled in," he began. "Your aunt will give you a list of your daily chores. Everyone pulls his weight here. This ain't a Cape Cod rooming house." He paused to see if I was listening closely.

"I did most of the chores in our house in West Virginia," I said firmly.

"You lived in a trailer, I understand," he said, putting the chicken on May's plate.


Tags: V.C. Andrews Logan Horror