Willow by V. C. Andrews Read Free Book Online Page A

average, slumping and squeezing his shoulders inward, dropping his neck down into his chest cavity. Daddy was always working with him to help him build his selfconfidence.
My cousin wasn't entirely wrong in her accusation. Miles believed he was responsible for his daughter's death, and that was what drove him to attempt suicide and then to Daddy's clinic. His wife had left him. His family had disowned him. It was Daddy who helped him live with the tragedy and go on, helping to convince him that his poor departed child would certainly want him to continue.
"Willow," he managed through those pale, trembling lips.
We hugged. I could feel Aunt Agnes and Margaret Selby shaking their heads behind me. How could I be so intimate with a servant?
"I got to him as quickly as I could," he said. The moment I saw he had fallen."
"I know you did. Miles," I said, and offered him my best smile of reassurance. He welcomed it with a tiny smile of his own,
"I'll brew some tea for you," he said as we entered the house. "We'll have to order in some food now that we have some overnight guests." He looked at Aunt Agnes and Margaret Selby. "Your father and I didn't require much these days."
"I'll take care of all that." Aunt Agnes said, coming up behind us. "See that we have clean linen in our bedrooms and enough towels and washcloths." she ordered, marching past him with her shoulders back in a military posture.
"How long are we going to stay here, Mother?" Margaret Selby asked.
"Until we are no longer required," she replied. "Now, go to your room and rest and then freshen up. People will be coming to offer their condolences. I'm sure. I'll see to the proper refreshments." she told me. "First. I'll evaluate what is in this house.''
She marched down the hallway toward the kitchen and pantry. Miles and I simply stood there, almost like disinterested observers. Margaret Selby released a small groan of frustration and then pressed my arm.
"I'll just take a little rest and then be with you as much as you like. Willow. I remember what a trying time it was when my father died, but Mother"--she looked after Aunt Agnes-- "is so good at things like this. You can depend on her just like I always do."
She leaned in to kiss me on the cheek and then hurried up the stairway.
Miles and I looked at each other, both fighting off an urge to break into laughter at her anemic attempt to be sincere and concerned.
"I'll be in Daddy's office. Miles."
"Very good. Willow. I'll bring you in a cup of tea and some biscuits. You know, the ones your father is so fond of." he said, and then realized instantly that we would both have to change our verb tenses forever in relation to Daddy. "The ones he was fond of."
"Thank you. Miles," I said. I walked on, past the entrance to the kitchen where I could hear Aunt Agnes opening and closing cabinets, taking her instant inventory. Some people invite the opportunity to take charge of other people's lives, I thought. They are like firemen who can't help but welcome the challenge, the battle, the surge of adrenaline, forgetting for the moment that the theater in which they are performing their necessary roles is a theater featuring pure misery for someone else.
"My goodness," I heard Aunt Agnes declare to Miles when he went into the kitchen, "You would think my brother was living off his Social Security, I haven't seen pantries as bare as this since I worked with Meals on Wheels for the house-bound elderly."
"Dr. De Beers had all he required," Miles remarked firmly. "He lacked nothing he wanted."
She grunted her displeasure. but I was positive Miles wasn't going to kowtow.
I smiled to myself and walked on toward the office, well in the rear of the house.
Our house was a large Gothic revival and too grim for my adoptive mother, who was fond of saying, "It always looks like it's scowling at me when I drive up, no matter how I dress the windows."
If she could have, she would have ripped it down and started over, but the house had been in my