“So have it.”

She poured a glass. “Did you have anything?”

“What difference does it make? Stop talking about food. Where were you?”

“I was given an assignment I couldn’t refuse. I thought about calling the hospital and leaving a message for you but then thought that might be worse.”

“It wouldn’t have been.”

She smiled. “Did you tell her I came to see how she was?”

“No. I didn’t want to tell her anything, since you hadn’t showed up and might never,” I said. “She didn’t need any more unhappiness.”

She nodded, then sat and cut a muffin. “What did you do about dinner?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t hungry. I probably wouldn’t have eaten much even if you had done what you said you were going to do.”

“Look, I’m sorry. It couldn’t be avoided. I’m here now. We’ll have something to eat and go see her. How was she?”

“She wasn’t really alert. I don’t know if she’ll remember that I was there.”

“So see? No harm done,” she said, and got up to get the coffee.

“No harm done?”

“Don’t get dramatic on

me,” she warned. “You want some coffee? Don’t tell me you don’t drink it, either. The French love their coffee.”

“Okay,” I said, relenting.

She poured us both a cup and sat. “What was so important last night?”

“I told you. An assignment.”

“Is that really what you call it?”

“Let’s not talk about me. You have to go back to school, you know.”

“I hate that school. I don’t care.”

“What would your . . . what would Mama think if you didn’t go back?”

I sipped my coffee and nibbled on one of the muffins.

“Well, let’s do first things first,” she said. “We’ll go see her and then talk about the rest later.”

“Later? What if you get another emergency assignment?”

She smiled. “I was afraid you and I would be too different even to talk to each other, but I see you have my personality after all.”

“Please,” I said. “Spare me the compliments, if that was a compliment.”

She laughed, then finished her coffee, grabbed another piece of muffin, and got up.

“Let’s go.”

“First, we’ll clean up this mess,” I said. I brought the cups and saucers to the sink, turned off the coffeepot, and began cleaning it.


Tags: V.C. Andrews The Forbidden Horror