V.C. Andrews - Cutler 03 by Twilight's Child

Author:Twilight's Child
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-01-17T00:30:41+00:00

Epilogue

.

As JIMMY AND I DROVE AWAY FROM

THE MEADOWS THAT DAY I thought how right it was that the two people who were made to suffer most there could now live there happily. I had no doubt in my mind that in time some of the more dreary and dismal aspects of that sad house would be buried along with the memory of Miss Emily. The shadows she had kept stored in the deepest corners—shadows she had protected and fed with her insane insistence that the light be rationed —would surely follow her to the grave.

When we returned to Cutler's Cove I had a meeting with Mr. Updike concerning The Meadows, and he said he would see to it that Charlotte and Luther could live there for as long as they wanted. I told Philip about our trip, Emily's burial and what we had decided. He was glad not to have to have anything more to do with it.

"The one or two times I was there," he said, "I was terrified. Aunt Emily made me feel I was the devil's own."

In a way it was good for me to have attended Miss Emily's burial. Seeing Charlotte and Luther happy and knowing that the dour, evil woman was gone from their lives as well as my own put an end to my nightmares about The Meadows. Those days stopped haunting me.

I had much too much to do with my life now anyway. There was Christie's musical education to continue; there were things to do in our home and, of course, there was the hotel. Jimmy and I made plans to take our first vacation together after the summer.

We decided to return to Cape Cod to finish our honeymoon.

It was the most romantic week of our marriage.

We were able to pledge our love to each other again and again in dozens of little ways: Jimmy just touching my cheek and not saying anything, me resting my head against his shoulder as the sun went down, or the two of us waking up before dawn and rushing out to hold hands and walk on the beach as the sun rose.

When we returned to Cutler's Cove we

discovered Bronson had made arrangements for all of us to have Thanksgiving at Beulla Woods. He thought it would do Mother inestimable good to be surrounded by family. We were all there: Philip and Betty Ann, the twins, Fern and Christie, Jimmy and me. Mother sat in bewilderment throughout most of the dinner, it seemed, but afterward, when Christie and I played a duet on the piano, I turned to see her smiling through tears.

At the end of the evening she permitted each of the children to kiss her good night. Bronson beamed.

He hadn't looked as happy or as handsome in months.

"Thank you," he whispered in my ear when we embraced. "I think this was one of the happiest Thanksgivings I can recall."

I went to Mother and said my good night, hugging her and kissing her cheek. She seemed to hold on to me for dear life, and when I pulled away her eyes were wide but smiling.

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