Page 111

"Raped you? You mean . . ."

"He came into my room naked," I bawled, "and crawled into my bed."

"No fooling," she said with a sick smile on her face. She wasn't outraged and sympathetic; she was titillated and amused. "Tell me about it," she demanded.

"There's nothing to tell. He came in and forced himself on me. It was horrible."

"What was so horrible about it? Philip's quite a handsome man," she remarked.

"What?" I wiped my eyes.

"Actually, I always hoped he would do it with me," she said. "I certainly gave him enough opportunity and tempted him enough," she added, smiling. "I once arranged it so he came in on me while I was stark naked. He liked what he saw, but he left without laying a hand on me.

"You must have done something to encourage it," she accused.

"I did not."

"Tell me the truth," she said, "you liked it a little, didn't you?"

"No, Aunt Fern. It was horrid from beginning to end and after it was over, I scrubbed myself until my skin burned."

"How ridiculous," she said.

"It wasn't ridiculous. I never felt as soiled, inside and out. I'm shocked that you would want a married man . . . a relative . . ."

"Oh stop. A good-looking man's a good-looking man," she said. "Besides, he's not a blood relative. He's not even a real relative."

"He's a sick man," I said. "He was always in love with my mother and . . ."

"I know," she said dryly. "Everyone was in love with your mother." She looked up at me with distaste and hate written across her lips. "And now they're going to be in love with you. Why you have all the luck . . ." She leaned back in the tub again and again put her feet up. "Get my nail polish," she ordered. When I didn't move, she smiled.

"I should go right to a phone and call Philip and have you delivered back to him. Maybe that's what you need . . . a real education. He'd probably chain you to your bed and come up night after night and do it to you a different way each time until . . ."

"Stop it. You're disgusting."

"My polish," she repeated coolly.

When I opened the bathroom door, I saw her boyfriend was back in bed and under the blanket. His eyes popped open.

"I'm hungry, Fern," he called.

"Just hold your water," she called back. "I'm not finished with my morning rituals."

I went to her bag and found her nail polish.

"Dry my feet first, stupid," she said when I knelt down to do her toes. I got the towel and dried her feet. "Um, that's nice," she said. "It's nice to be treated like royalty. I always envied you, princess."

"I was never treated like royalty." I said.

"Uh huh. Just do a good job on those nails. You never know who might set eyes on them," she commanded. The tears burned behind my eyelids. I fought to keep my vision clear enough to do her toenails. While I worked, she lay back with her eyes closed, soaking in the warm water.

"Morton!" she suddenly screamed. "Morton!" "What?"

"Get up and go downstairs and tell my aunt I want two scrambled eggs and some bacon for breakfast. See if they have fresh bread, too. If they don't, have Luther go to town and get some."

"Okay," Morton said.

"Luther doesn't have time to run errands like that," I muttered.