Free Child of Darkness by V. C. Andrews Page A

horrible on the music system."
We walked along.
"But all that's gong to stop," she said. "I mean, I'll have you. Of course Wade will, too, but I'm warning you now, Wade's a workaholic. Even his father, who built the business, criticizes him. The truth is," she said, pausing again, "I'm often lonely. Oh, I could have gotten involved in the business, but who wants that? And I wasn't going to go out and become one of these career women. I don't need the money or the prestige. I come from a wealthy family myself. I was an only child, and so of course Wade calls me spoiled.
"So what? I'm spoiled. A woman, women like us, should be spoiled. We're made to be spoiled, and their job is to spoil us. Oh," she said suddenly, turning to hug me. "We'll really be like sisters. I mean that," she said, pulling back and looking firm. "Don't ever think of me as a mother, even though that's what I'm claiming I'll be. I couldn't stand the thought of it. I mean. . . a mother to someone as old as you? Really, how ridiculous I would look to anyone I told such a thing."
I stared at her. I had never seen or spoken to anyone quite like her, someone so full of energy and excitement. It was as if she had been kept under lock and key for years and was finally permitted to go out and meet people. I'm sure my look of curiosity and amazement confused her.
"I guess I'm talking too much. Wade is always accusing me of that and slapping those hands over his ears. Am I talking too much? Just say so and I'll shut up. Just don't slap your hands over your ears like Wade does. He has no idea how much I hate that. Or maybe he does and does it anyway. Men."
"No," I said, smiling. "I don't mind your talking at all."
She beamed.
"I knew that you wouldn't. I just knew it. Wade, I said, a girl like that is probably just dying to have someone like me to talk to. She's like a flower kept growing in a pot too small. Oh come on," she said, seizing my hand and turning back toward the orphanage. "Let's tell them we're tired of waiting and anxious to get going. Why should it take so long, anyway?"
She took a few steps and paused, turning back to me.
"You are anxious, aren't you? Anxious to get going, I mean?"
I looked at her, at the orphanage, at the meager gardens, and then smiled and nodded.
"Yes," I said. "Very anxious."
She squealed with delight and practically dragged me toward the door.
It did feel like a whirlwind, but I didn't mind it. I packed and said my goodbyes in less than an hour. Mother Higgins took me aside before I joined Ami and Wade, who were waiting in the lobby.
"You have been with us a long time, Celeste," she began. "I've always known you were a special girl. You have learned to cherish and guard tightly what you hear inside yourself and what you see. That takes wisdom. I have watched you in prayer, and I know you have a maturity and direction inside you. These people might not be right for all that, but you have to be generous. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes, Mother Higgins."
She nodded.
"I think you do, dear. I think you are truly wise be-yond your years. Most of the time, that's a blessing; sometimes it can be a burden. It is a burden if you are intolerant of those who do not have your insight and maturity."
"I understand, Mother Higgins."
She smiled.
"I know you do. I'm very proud of how you've grown and overcome your difficulties. I only pray that this is the opportunity you well deserve. Best of luck, dear," she said, and hugged me. "Call me whenever you want."
Wade helped carry out my suitcases. I had two good-sized ones now. I remembered when I had only a carry-on bag. Ami waited beside their big black Mercedes. It looked like the limousine I had once dreamed would come to take me away, but to take me back to the aromas that lingered in my memory, the tastes that dwelled on my tongue, and the whispers that lived in-side my ears.
"I'm going to ride in the back with Celeste, Wade," she told him. She smiled at me. "We'll feel like we've got a chauffeur