Page 46

that Carrie had to be laid up and we couldn't journey

north--while our mother gallivanted from here to

there, going to parties, hobnobbing with the jet set and

the movie stars as if we didn't exist at all! On the

French Riviera now. I cut that item from Greenglenna's society column and pasted it into my huge scrapbook of revenge. That was one article I showed to

Chris before I put it into the book. I didn't show him

all of them. I didn't want him to know I had subscribed

to the Virginia newspaper that reported on everything

the Foxworths did.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded,

looking up from the clipping he handed back to me. "The Greenglenna newspaper--it's more

concerned with high society than Clairmont's Daily

News. Our mother is a hot item, didn't you know?" "I try to forget, unlike you!" he said sharply.

"We don't have it so bad now, do we? We're lucky to

be with Paul, and Carrie's leg will mend and be as

good as ever. And other summers will come when we

can go to New England."

How did he know that? Nothing ever was

offered twice. Maybe in other summers to come we'd

be too busy or Paul would. "You realize, being an

'almost' doctor, don't you, that her leg might not grow

while she's in that cast?"

He looked strangely ill-at-ease. "If she grew like

average kids I guess there might be that risk. But,

Cathy, she doesn't grow very much, so there's little

chance one leg will be shorter than the other." "Oh, go bury your nose in Gray's Anatomy!" I

flared, angry because he'd always make light of anything I said that made Momma the fault of anything.

He knew why Carrie didn't grow as well as I did.

Deprived of love, of sunshine and freedom, it was a

marvel she'd lived to survive! Arsenic too! Damn