Read Online Misty by V.C. Andrews - Free Book Online Page B

stifle anyone, Doctor Marlowe. If Cathy can’t wait to tell us about herself. . .”
    â€œStop being mischievous,” she warned.
    â€œAm I being mischievous?” I asked Jade. She laughed and nodded.
    â€œWhat do you think, Star?”
    â€œI think if you’re going to tell your story, tell it already. Afterward,” she added, “we’ll decide if you are mischievous or not. But if I had to vote now,” she quickly added, “I’d say you had some of the devil in you.”
    All of us laughed, even Cathy, but her laugh was short, insecure, careful. Who burned the smiles off her face? I wondered.
    â€œI didn’t really think that Charles Allen and I would become an item just because we both had parents who were into divorcing. The gossip about Charles Allen was that he had an older girlfriend who was a freshman at the University of Southern California. What I found out was he had a cousin in her first year at USC, but there was nothing romantic about it.
    â€œHe has his own car, a BMW convertible. I learned later that he has a trust left to him by his grandfather on his father’s side. I don’t know how much exactly, but it’s pretty obvious that it’s a lot of money. He offered to drive me home. I thought why not and it started.
    â€œOn the way to my house we talked about our parents a little. It was easy to see he wasn’t all that close with either his father or his mother. His mother is an elegantlooking lady, tall and thin, but a little wide in the hips. My mother would blame that on her child-bearing and say, ‘See, that’s why I didn’t want to have another.’
    â€œAlthough Charles Allen’s mother isn’t as concerned about her looks as my mother is, she looked like she was the type who was never surprised.”
    â€œSurprised?” Star asked.
    â€œWhat I mean is no matter what time of day anyone sees her, his mother would always be stylishly dressed. Charles Allen said she was involved in various charities and sat on the boards of a number of non-profit organizations. He thought it was ironic that she gave so much of herself to the sick and the downtrodden and so little to him.
    â€œLike me, he had a nanny when he was little. After that, he was mostly cared for by maids and butlers and chauffeurs. He said his parents even hired people to play with him. One day, he said he felt as if his parents were doing all they could to avoid being with him. ‘Keep me occupied and away from them,’ he muttered, ‘that was their motto.’ ”
    â€œDon’t they like their own son?” Star asked.
    I shrugged. “I think they just don’t like children, their own included.”
    â€œRich people make me sick,” she said.
    â€œPoor people can behave just as poorly,” Jade reminded her.
    They looked like they could get into a real argument, so I quickly went on with my story.
    â€œThe second time we left school together, I went to his house and got the tour. His mother was just on herway out to a meeting. Charles Allen made sure to perform the proper introductions, however.
    â€œPerform was his word. He told me he felt most of the things he did for and with his parents had always felt like little scripted acts.
    â€œ ‘Mother,’ he said, ‘I’d like you to meet Misty Foster. Misty, this is my mother, Elizabeth Howe Fitch.’
    â€œWow. I take it that his parents are very formal,” Jade said.
    â€œThat’s an understatement. His father’s name is Benjamin Harrison Jackson Fitch.”
    â€œI bet it takes him forever to fill out forms,” Star quipped.
    â€œHe probably doesn’t fill out anything,” Jade returned. “He has lawyers who do it for him, I’m sure.”
    â€œCan I continue?” I asked them. They both zipped up their lips.
    I went on.
    â€œHis mother offered her long, thin, bejeweled fingers. The moment I touched them,