Out of the Rain by V.C. Andrews

Author:V.C. Andrews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2021-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

“My mother chose my bedroom furniture two years ago with-out me even knowing anything about it,” Karen complained as soon as we entered her room. “She said she wanted to be sure it fit the house. I hate it. It’s a wonder I can fall asleep in that bed. I hate bringing my friends up here, too.”

I looked at it, amazed at what she was saying. It was a king-size cherry wood bed with a high headboard and plush, oversize pillows. The top of the mattress looked a good two and a half, three feet off the floor, with wide bedframe sides and a beautifully matching arched footboard. It looked like a bed for a queen. There were nightstands on both sides, the one on the right with a pinkish-white phone on it. The one on the left had a picture of Ava and my father and Karen when she was ten or eleven, standing between them and looking lost and uncomfortable. It looked like Ava had her hand on the back of Karen’s neck, making sure she stood straight. I could almost hear her in the picture saying, Posture, posture.

There was a cherry wood dresser with three drawers. The mirror above the dresser was shaped exactly like her bed’s headboard. To the right on entry, she had a large vanity table with drawers and a square mirror and a chair. On the left was her oversize computer desk, also in cherry wood. The door to her walk-in closet was to the right of that, and to the right on entry, directly across from the center of the bed, was the door to her en suite bath-room.

I would have to agree that the pictures of country scenes, lakes, and forests on the light-coffee walls and the artificial plants and other decorations were not what anyone would expect to find in a teenage girl’s bedroom. Only her pictures of rock stars, bands, and handsome actors or models crowdedly displayed on her computer table suggested that someone younger than thirty slept here. Her pink pajama gown was neatly spread on the bedspread. Slippers were on a small step stool at the left of the bed. The room was quite large, however, at least twice the size of the room I was in and probably four times the size of the room I had at Mazy’s house.

“My mother won’t let me put anything on the walls. Daddy promises that when we move to the estate someday, I can choose my own furniture and redecorate my own room. Of course, the way Grandpa Amos is, that might not be until I’m in my twenties and maybe married myself. Well?” she said when I didn’t confirm her complaints. “What do you think of my room or, I should say, my mother’s idea of a room for me?”

I walked to the bed and sat on it.

“This is very comfortable.”

“Oh, spare me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The room! It doesn’t look like me!”

I nodded. “Not what I expected, I admit.

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