Secrets of Foxworth by V.C. Andrews Read Free Book Online

said, “A good book is like good wine. Its wisdom ages and becomes more valuable with time.” He winked at me when he said it, because he knew I believed that, too. Momma just shook her head as if Daddy and I lived in our own world, and Cathy grimaced and said, “Ugh. Old books smell.”
    I know that other boys my age get ecstatic over new bikes, Erector Sets, electric trains, new sleds, and baseball gloves, but this manual is the most exciting gift Daddy has ever gotten me, and it is my most prized possession. He even wrote inside the cover: “To our future Dr. Dollanganger. Heal and protect those in pain. Love, Dad.”
    I read and reread that dedication almost every night. For me, it’s sort of a prayer. Probably the man I respect the most next to my father is our family doctor, Dr. Bloom. He has an office in his home and lives with his mother. He’s not an old man, but he’s older than most men are when they get married. I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t like girls or anything. I think it’s because he’s too devoted to his sacred work of healing. He just hasn’t found the right woman yet, the woman who will tolerate his rushing out to make hospital calls at all times of the night and leaving parties to care for someone who’s suddenly very ill.
    Dr. Bloom looked at my hands once and said, “You’ve got a doctor’s hands, Christopher, strong fingers. You could be a great surgeon someday.”
    I don’t think anything anyone ever said to me made me feel any better about myself. I told Daddy and Momma at dinner that night, and Cathy gave us her usual “Ugh” when she understood that surgeons put their hands inside people’s bodies.
    â€œGet an appendix attack, and you’ll be happy to have a doctor do it,” I said.
    Her eyes nearly popped. “Don’t frighten her, Christopher,” Momma said.
    â€œPeople do get appendix attacks, Momma.”
    Cathy had tears of fear in her eyes.
    â€œNow, now,” Daddy told her, embracing her quickly. “You won’t have an appendix attack.” He gave me a look that said, Be careful, Christopher. She’s just a little girl.
    I nodded.
    He was right. I had to control my tongue and think harder first before I spoke.
    Doctors especially have to know how to do that. You have to learn to keep certain things secret for the patient’s own benefit.
    I heard my father call to me.
    I put the diary aside and hurried down for the lunch he was preparing. All I could think of was to eat and get back up there to continue reading. My father had our sandwiches out and a jug of water and glasses.
    â€œThanks, Dad,” I said, slipping into my chair. Helooked at me and sat. “What?” I asked before I took a bite. I could always tell when he had something on his mind.
    â€œYou didn’t call any of your friends yet about that diary, did you?”
    â€œNo. I thought I’d read it first.”
    â€œGood. I don’t want you to tell anyone about it for a while. Maybe never.” He bit into his sandwich, and I bit into mine.
    â€œWhy not?” I couldn’t imagine he had the same reason I did for keeping it to myself.
    â€œFor now, I don’t want to broadcast that we found that. All I need is for this new prospective buyer to get second thoughts like so many others have over the years since the second fire. I don’t want to perpetuate any of those Halloween stories. The bank wouldn’t be happy with me. And the bank could confiscate that diary. Technically, they own everything on the property.”
    â€œOkay. It’s our secret . . . and Todd’s.”
    â€œTodd doesn’t know what you found. He was too disappointed that it wasn’t jewelry or money. I’m sure he’s forgotten it was anything else by now.”
    â€œWhat if Christopher tells us in the diary where his little brother was buried or