Page List


Font:  

a full carpet, but area rugs would help. I would get something happier for bedding. The drab light brown comforter added nothing to the queen- size bed. It had a blah headboard, just a smooth piece of wood and no footboard. It needed help. The room could use more lighting. A standing lamp at least, set up near the small desk in the corner, would work, especially when

I was attending school and doing homework in here. I looked at the large and smaller dresser. On

both, the handles and the wood itself needed a good

polishing. They looked like leftovers from a thrift

shop somewhere. They probably were, I thought.

While Aunt Zipporah tended to some other things

around the house, I went down the hall to the pantry

and located the cleaning materials, a pail, and a mop,

and began working on the room. Because the curtains

did little in the way of blocking the sunlight anyhow, I

took them down and folded them. My cleaning and

polishing didn't make a dramatic difference, but at

least it made some difference.

Aunt Zipporah stopped in and looked around. "So I see you took my advice and began.

Good," she said. "What else would you do?" I rattled off my mental list, and she agreed. "All good ideas. Let's get on that in the

morning. Tyler won't need us until just before lunch. It'll be fun," she added, nodding as she looked around the bedroom. "I haven't done anything with this house for some time. As I'm sure my mother has told you

many times," she added, winking.

I laughed. There was no sense denying it. We

both knew Grandma too well.

"I'm tired, and Tyler will be home any minute.

I'm going up to do some reading. Do you need

anything else?"

"No, I'm fine, Aun . . . Zipporah."

"That's it," she said. "Welcome back, honey. I

hope it works for you. You deserve a break." "Thanks," I said. She gave me a hug and went

upstairs.

Although I had slept here so many times before,

the realization that this was to be my home for at least

a year, if not more, settled in. When I came here for

the summers, it was more like an extended weekend.


Tags: V.C. Andrews Secrets Horror