Read Online A Family Affair: A Novel of Horror by V. J. Banis - Free Book Online Page B

still staring at her, waiting with what seemed impatience for her to permit the start of breakfast. And she herself, she realized suddenly, was starving. The last thing she had eaten had been a cold sandwich at some little shop along the way, and that had been at lunchtime yesterday.
    â€œYou naughty girl,” Aunt Abbie addressed her in a loud stage whisper, leaning across the table to wag a finger at her. “You didn’t touch your dinner last night.”
    â€œOh.” Jennifer slammed her hand angrily down upon the surface of the table. That was pouring salt upon some sensitive wounds.
    â€œIs something the matter?” Aunt Christine asked from her place at the head of the table.
    Jennifer looked about the table at the faces turned expectantly toward her. Yes, she had seen those looks before. Her guess had been correct, she was sure of it. They were all of them waiting for her to protest about the food, or rather the lack of food, and that would give them all a good laugh—at her expense. She had been through this sort of thing so often. She had thought it was all behind her, but it seemed it was not.
    â€œYes,” she said, seizing upon the first thought that came to mind. “There’s no water in my room.”
    â€œWater?” Aunt Christine repeated the word as though Jennifer might have used a foreign phrase. “Water. I’m afraid I never even thought of that. But I’ll see that it’s looked into. Grace?”
    Her face flushing angrily, Jennifer bowed her head and mumbled a blessing, which she amended slightly to cover her current situation: “...guide over me and bless me, and help me to get my car out of the creek.”
    When she looked up she discovered that no one, not one of the others, had bowed their heads. They were sitting just as before, staring at her as though she were some sort of freak. Then, as if on signal, they all looked away.
    â€œThey are mad,” she told herself silently, her eyes slowly circling the table. “They are every one of them as mad as hatters, and I must leave this house right after breakfast.”
    But, she reminded herself, there was a problem. Her car was still stuck in the mud somewhere; to tell the truth, she did not have the vaguest idea where it was even. Which way had they come through those awful woods last night, and how far? If only that man hadn’t walked so fast, she might have had some idea of the path they had taken, might have been able to watch for landmarks.
    Well, he could just walk right back and get her car out of that creek for her before the day was out, she would insist upon that. She would find him herself and tell him so, and go along to see that he did it. She had seen as much as she wished to see of Kelsey House and its occupants, and she did not much care if they were family.
    The girl at her left, beyond the empty seat that had been saved for her mother, was handing her something in a bowl. With a curt smile, Jennifer took the bowl and looked down into it.
    It was empty. Not one crumb, not even a stain to indicate that it might have, say when it had started at the other end of the table, held anything.
    She looked up, startled. They were passing platters and bowls and trays and helping themselves generously. It might have been a truly bountiful breakfast, but for one detail. The dishes were empty. There was not a trace of food anywhere on the table that she could see.
    And the worst of it was, they were eating. Across from Jennifer, Aunt Abbie held a spoon in one hand and dipped it daintily toward her plate. She carried the spoonful of air to her mouth, and chewed at it
    This, Jennifer thought, was carrying a joke too far. Fun, if one could call it that, was fun, but she could very well faint away from hunger while they carried on their tasteless joke.
    I will not give in, she swore stubbornly, fighting down the angry words that had risen in her throat. She had that, certainly, a stubborn