Wildflowers 04 Cat

by V. C. Andrews

  "She needs a therapist more than you do, or any of us do," Jade said.

  "She had her visit with Doctor Marlowe, just like your parents, but she doesn't believe in therapy. She almost didn't bring me here today."

  "Right, don't air your dirty laundry or something," Star said.

  I smiled and nodded.

  "Cat, you need some friends, and some help." "Maybe we can be her friends," Misty suggested. "Us? We're here because we're screwed up, too, aren't we? That's the blind leading the blind," Star said.

  "She needs normal friends."

  "I'm normal," Jade said indignantly. "Just as normal as most anyone out there. Maybe even more normal." Star lifted her eyebrows.

  "We heard your story; don't try to convince us you're more normal." Before Jade could respond, she added, "And you heard ours. Let's not pretend we don't have problems or excess baggage, okay?"

  "We can still be her friends," Jade insisted.

  "Maybe she doesn't want us to be her friends." She put her hands on her hips. "You just keep sticking your rich nose into everyone's life all the time, I bet."

  "You think you know all about me just because of these sessions? You don't know all about me. You don't know enough to pass judgment on me or anyone. You're the one who's being arrogant."

  "Right. You're always right," Star quipped. She turned to me. "Well, you heard us talk about our problems. Do you want anyone here to be your friend?"

  "Yes," I admitted. "I would like that."

  Jade bit into a cookie and looked gleefully happy. Star rolled her eyes.

  "Maybe you're just a lost cause. Maybe we all are. What did you call us, Misty, Orphans With Parents?" Star asked her.

  "That's right."

  "Okay," Star said. "I nominate Jade here to be president of the OWP."

  "I second it," Misty said laughing

  "Who says I want to be president?" Jade quipped. "You want to be the standout everywhere you go. It doesn't take a genius to see that."

  Jade stared at her for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, I accept. I'm the president," she said.

  "Wait, we have to vote. All in favor raise your hand." We all did.

  "Done," Star said. "We're the OWP's and Jade is the president."

  Everyone laughed as Doctor Marlowe returned. She gazed down at us and smiled.

  "Did I miss something important?" she asked. "Just an election," Star said.

  Doctor Marlowe's look of confusion made us all laugh again.

  I can do this, I kept thinking I drank some more lemonade. I can do it.

  5

  "When I was in the eighth grade, something terrible happened to me," I continued after everyone had had her lemonade and sat back again. I glanced at Doctor Marlowe. She hadn't given me or anyone else here any instructions about-what to tell and what not to tell. She looked like she wasn't sure herself what we might say and was just as interested in finding out.

  "I suppose now when I look back, it wasn't as horrible as I had thought, but at the time . . . It took a while before I could talk about this after it had happened," I continued. "I kept it a secret from my parents, and actually, I still haven't told my mother about it. I knew she would find a way somehow to blame me, and I was afraid that if I told my father, he might tell her even accidentally, so I swallowed it down like bitter medicine and kept it inside even though it came up like rotten eggs almost every night, leaving me in a cold sweat and bringing me to tears of ice."

  No one spoke. They hardly breathed. It was so quiet for a moment, we could hear the sound of leafblowers blocks away as gardeners worked behind the high walls of expensive homes. The dull, monotonous sound of their engines seemed to be the proper sound track behind a gray, heavily overcast day.

  "What was it already?" Misty blurted. I saw Jade kick her and she sat back, biting down on her lip. "Whenever I was lucky enough to have

  someone at school try to be friends with me, my

  mother usually found a way to stop it. She had

  watched some guest on a talk show discussing the

  problems with young people in today's society and she

  agreed with the conclusion that it was all happening

  because young people were a bigger influence on each

  other than their parents.

  "'Peer pressure is stronger than family,' she

  declared as if it was a major new discovery. It was

  practically the only time I heard her lead a discussion

  at dinner. She was so excited about the conclusion,

  she couldn't stop talking about it to my father, who

  looked bored, but politely listened and as usual,

  agreed.

  "After that, whenever I mentioned another girl

  at school, my mother put me through a crossexamination that probably was more severe than a

  cross-examination during the Spanish Inquisition." I

  laughed. "I remember watching those court shows on

  television, sometimes and imagining my mother in the courtroom, questioning the defendants, drilling them with biting questions as she fixed her eyes on their faces, catching every tiny revealing movement in their

  lips or in the way they shifted their gazes.

  "You don't lie to my mother. That's one thing

  you don't do," I said almost proudly.

  "You've got to be able to lie to your parents

  sometimes," Jade said.

  Misty nodded vigorously. "Jade's right. It's

  better for them and better for you. What they don't

  know, won't hurt them."

  "It was just the opposite with my mother," Star

  said. "She wouldn't know the truth if she tripped over

  it. She was more comfortable with lies."

  "Did you lie about something or just not tell the

  whole truth?" Misty asked me. She smiled. "That's the

  way I get around things sometimes."

  "I guess I did a combination of both," I said.

  "But not in the beginning I was too nervous and afraid

  to do that. As I said, all I had to do was mention a

  girl's name and my mother would stop whatever she

  was doing and turn on me.

  "'Where were you with her? What did she say

  exactly? What did she mean by that? Who are her

  parents? Where does she live? What does she look

  like?' "She would -ask her questions in shotgun

  fashion, shaking her head and spitting out another

  before I had a chance to answer the one before. The

  more I didn't know about the girl, the worse it was.

  Usually, she would end by forbidding me to talk to

  her again and I'd have to remember to never mention

  that girl's name."

  Jade spun angrily on Doctor Marlowe. "How can you let her continue to live with such

  a monster? She hits her. She won't let her make

  friends. She treats her like she's something dirty. Why

  don't you tell the authorities?"

  Doctor Marlowe closed her eyes softly and

  opened them with a gentle smile.

  "Cathy has a great deal more to say and you

  should hear it all before you come to any conclusions,

  Jade. You wouldn't have liked it any other way, would

  you?"

  Jade turned back to me, still fuming, her arms

  wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes bright with

  anger.

  "Your mother's a Nazi," she muttered. I didn't laugh or reply. I waited for a surge of

  nausea to pass and then I took a breath and continued. "There was this girl, Kelly Sullivan, whose

  father works for the church in some administrative

  capacity. I think he manages properties or something.

  Her mother is in a wheelchair. She has multiple

  sclerosis. They live in a nice, ranch-style house only


  about ten minutes by car from us.

  "Kelly has beautiful green eyes and apricot red

  hair. She's a lot smaller than me, slimmer, I should

  say, but most girls who were my age in the eighth

  grade were. She hated her freckles. There were

  patches of them on each check and even on the

  bottom of her chin, but she had a pretty face. She

  thought her freckles made her look like a freak and of

  course, I had my problem. Her parents were like my

  mother in that they didn't want Kelly to wear any

  makeup, not even lipstick. I actually thought she and I

  had a lot in common and for a while, I had hopes that

  she would be a real best friend. We often talked in the

  cafeteria and we shared three classes. She had other

  friends, but she didn't seem to me to be that popular.

  She was shy in school and when she met my mother,

  she was so sweet and polite, my mother looked at her

  with such approval and pleasure, I was actually

  jealous.

  "I mean, Kelly had almost no figure yet, which my mother thought was good and normal, and Kelly was full of please's and thank you's, just the recipe for the kind of little girl my mother wanted. I had been talking about her enough for my mother to finally consent to my bringing her home with me one afternoon. I was afraid to, afraid that once Kelly met my mother and had my mother grill her with questions, she would never want to talk to me again, but I liked Kelly and wanted her for a friend and knew if I didn't have Mother's approval, I couldn't. I was

  very nervous about it.

  "However, as I said, to my surprise Mother

  liked her even more than I had hoped she would. She

  seemed pleased that Kelly's mother was an invalid and

  she was especially pleased that her father was

  working for the church.

  "Even so, my mother was very cautious and

  hesitant about my going to Kelly's house to study for

  tests together. The first time, she permitted me to go

  for only two hours and after exactly two hours, she

  was in the driveway waiting. I knew as soon as I got

  into the car, she would question me about every

  moment I spent with Kelly.

  "We did study some, but we also listened to

  music and talked to other girls and some boys on the phone. Kelly's mother was a sweet pleasant woman and I envied Kelly for the trusting and loving relationship they had. I almost wished my mother was in a wheelchair. Maybe if she was seriously ill, she would be a more loving mother, I thought, and then I

  hated myself for wishing such a terrible thing." Jade grunted and then agreed, "Maybe she

  wouldn't be so mean if she had to depend on you." "Yeah," Star said. I didn't want to discuss such

  a thing. I still felt guilty for even thinking it. "Kelly's father was very nice, too, and I could

  see how much he loved and cherished Kelly's

  mother," I continued instead.

  "Anyway, I guess because I had gone to Kelly's

  house a few times and nothing horrible had happened,

  my mother was a little less concerned when I asked if

  I could go to dinner there one Friday night." I paused and then added for Misty's benefit, "It

  wasn't the whole truth. I mean, we were going to eat,

  but it wasn't really a dinner. We were going to have

  pizza and Kelly had invited two other girls and some

  boys."

  "So it was a party," Misty said.

  "I guess. I had never been to a party at

  someone's house, so I didn't know what to call it. Kelly didn't tell me all the details right away. In fact, I didn't even know the boys were coming until that afternoon in school. It made my heart race with fear. I was terrified that my mother would find out somehow. Maybe when she drove me there, the boys would just be arriving or maybe she would take one look at my face and that lie detector in her head would ring. I tried to avoid her as soon as I got home, but she called

  me downstairs to recite a list of rules for my behavior. "I sat with my hands folded in my lap as she

  stood before me in the living room. My father wasn't

  home from work yet. Sometimes, he stopped at a

  tavern with some of his stockbroker associates and

  celebrated or mourned the day's results in the market. "'We don't say grace before we eat every night,'

  my mother began, 'but we should. It's your father's

  fault, not mine. Anyway, don't look stupid about it

  and don't let them know we don't. It's no one's

  business. Bow your head and make sure you

  pronounce your amen loud and clear, understand?' she

  asked me.

  "'Yes, Mother,' I said eying the door and trying

  not to look guilty of anything.

  "'Don't stare at her mother in the wheelchair.' "'I

  wouldn't do that, Mother.'

  "'We don't adhere to proper dinner etiquette

  either, not that I permit you to be sloppy or impolite at

  the table. It's just that your father never cared for

  formal dining. I have everything set up in the dining

  room,' she told me. 'Now get up and follow me.' "I did and I was surprised at the lengths she had

  gone to in order to give me instructions. She had a

  book of dining etiquette out and open. She had taken

  out every piece of silverware we owned, and our

  finest china with her nicest linen dinner napkins "'Sit,' she ordered, pointing at my place. Then

  she picked up the book and held it like a Bible in her

  open palms She even sounded like some kind of

  Sunday school teacher.

  "'You should know that the silverware is placed

  in the order of its use, with the implements to be used

  first farthest from the plate. The salad fork is placed

  next to the left of the plate, then the meat fork, which

  they might not have out, being this is Friday night,

  and then the fish fork which will be used first. Just to

  the right of the plate is the salad knife, next is the

  meat knife, which again, might not be there, and on

  the outside is the fish knife Outside the knives are the

  soup spoon and, if they have it, the fruit spoon.

  Dessert forks and spoons should be brought in on the dessert plate, but they might have it out already. I don't know how formal they are, of course. You know what the butter plate is and how it's there for your bread. Remember not to put your elbows on the table or slurp your soup or talk with food in your mouth.

  Any questions?'

  "'No, Mother,' I said. I was dying inside,

  knowing that all we actually were going to do was

  open a few boxes of pizza and probably slap the

  pieces on paper plates, and open bottles of soda. Now

  I was even more terrified of her learning the truth. She

  might accuse me of making a big fool out of her. "My teeth were practically chattering when it

  was time for her to take me over to Kelly's house. I

  was afraid she might go in with me, but my mother,

  fortunately, is shy herself, and just let me get out of

  the car.

  "'Call me when it's time to come home and remember, don't overstay your welcome, Cathy. Oh,

  wipe your mouth after every bite and always say

  please and thank you when you're passed anything at

  the table. Don't speak unless you're asked a question,'

  she warned.

  "'Okay,' I muttered with my head down and

  hurried to the front door, praying no one else would arrive before my mother pu
lled away. No one did because they were already in the house. I didn't know Kelly's parents weren't home. Her father had taken her

  mother out to dinner.

  "In fact, when Kelly opened the door for me,

  the music was so loud, I was afraid it might spill out

  and reach my mother's car even as she drove away. "I was a little shocked. It was as if Kelly had

  become a different person. She was wearing a blouse

  tied at her waist instead of buttoned so some

  uncovered waist showed, and a pair of jeans with no

  shoes or socks. Here I was dressed in my best outfit. "'She's here!' Kelly screamed and the others

  came out of her room.

  "I guess I was standing there with my mouth

  fallen open. Everyone laughed at me and how faunally

  I was dressed. Everyone else was in jeans and Tshirts. I didn't know the boys, of course, and they

  were quickly introduced. I was too nervous to pay

  much attention to their full names. Michael was a tall,

  dark boy with light brown hair and brown eyes, Tony

  was a shorter boy, stout, with very light brown hair

  and very nice blue eyes, and Frankie was a rather

  heavy boy with black hair and dark eyes. Talia Morris

  was there and so was Jill Brewster, girls I knew from school, but not very well. I found out that Tony was Jill's older brother and he had brought his friends.

  Tony, Frankie and Michael attended public school. "My second shock came when I discovered that

  the cups they held in their hands were not filled with

  just Coke. Tony had brought a bottle of rum. A cup

  was thrust at me immediately, and I held it like I

  would hold a loaded pistol when I was told what was

  in it.

  "'I can't drink this,' I told them. 'My mother will

  smell it on me immediately.'

  "'Don't worry about that. You chew some gum

  or gargle with mouthwash. We're very experienced

  with all this,' Tony assured me. 'We even drink it at

  school sometimes,' he added, laughing. 'Come on, join

  the party.' He practically forced me to sip the drink. I

  didn't taste the rum, but I know it was in there because

  it wasn't too long before I felt myself grow lightheaded and a little dizzy.

  "I guess I was fascinated by it all. The boys had