Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers
water and the rags? We don't have all night, you know."
"I don't think you realize how much work is involved here," Gavin said more calmly.
"Yes I do," Fern replied, smiling. "But if you're so worried about your precious princess doing too much and getting her precious fingers too soiled, why don't you help her?" she said icily. Then she spun on Charlotte. The poor dear gasped and her hands flew up to her throat like two terrified birds seeking the safety of a branch. "Aunt Charlotte, do you want to get us some clean linens, please, and towels, lots of clean towels. Do you own a vacuum cleaner?" she demanded.
Charlotte shook her head, overwhelmed.
"All they have is the old-fashioned push-thing that picks up surface dirt," I said quickly. Aunt Fern smirked.
"Well, I suppose it will have to do. Come on, everyone, get cracking," Fern said, enjoying her role as supervisor.
"You really can't sleep in here," Charlotte said, her eyes wide. "The spirits still come to this room at night, even during the day sometimes."
"Spirits? Oh, you mean like ghosts? Well, that's all right. Morton and I are used to spirits, but spirits of another kind. Which reminds me, what's to drink around here?"
"We have water and milk and juice," Aunt Charlotte listed proudly.
"I'm talking about whiskey," Aunt Fern snapped.
"Whiskey?" Charlotte thought a moment. "In my daddy's office in the cabinet. But it's old," she said, and Aunt Fern and Morton laughed.
"The older it is, the better it is," Aunt Fern said. "Show us the office and we'll have a few drinks and wait for you to get our room ready," she commanded.
"The office is not an office anymore," I said. "It's where Charlotte does her arts and crafts."
"So we'll have our drinks somewhere else. Come on," she said, clapping her hands. "Everyone get moving."
Luther stopped in the doorway with their suit-cases and looked in at us.
"You ain't fixing to stay in this room, are you?" he asked.
"It's all been decided, Luther. Put the bags in here," Aunt Fern said.
Luther looked at Charlotte, saw her pained ex-pression, and shook his head.
"This room's not to be used," he insisted firmly.
"Really? Who are you, the general manager or something?" Aunt Fern said and turned to Morton. They both laughed.
"No one uses this room," Luther simply stated. Fern's eyes grew small and hateful.
"Now look here," she said, stepping boldly up to him. "I happen to know more about you than you think. My brother told me about this place and you," she said sharply. "You're an employee who's been given permission to stay on, but that can change any time." Luther's face grew so hot and red, I thought he might explode.
"Aunt Fern, I'm the one who will change or not change anything," I said. "I'm the one who owns this now."
She smiled coldly at my challenge.
"Doesn't Philip have a part of the estate, too? Not a majority ownership, but still something? Why don't we call him and ask his opinion?" she said, her eyes dancing with glee.
"Don't you threaten her," Gavin said, stepping up beside me. Fern's face flamed red. She whipped her eyes to him and flared them with fury.
"How dare you speak to me like that, Gavin? Does Daddy know where his precious goody-goody son is and what he's been doing? How's your mother going to like all this?" she pursued. Gavin wilted quickly beneath the fire in her voice and eyes. Fern nodded, satisfied with his retreat. "You two have been hazing a pretty good old time of it around here," she said, looking at us. "My advice to you two is to behave if you want to continue having a good time. Anyway," she said, throwing her head back and sticking her hands to her hips, "you should have more respect for your older sister, Gavin; and Christie, show respect for your aunt.
"You never showed me any real respect, never treated me as an aunt should be treated," she complained.
"That's not so, Aunt Fern. I . . ."
"DON'T CONTRADICT ME!" she screamed, her eyes wide. Then she stepped toward me and spoke softly, in a very controlled but hateful tone of voice, spitting her words in my face. "This isn't Cutler's Cove and you're not the princess. We've always had to cater to you. It was always Christie this and Christie that. Did they ever make me a Sweet Sixteen party like the one for you? Or buy me anything I wanted?"
"Mommy and Daddy loved you and treated you well, Aunt Fern," I said, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.
"Save it. I've heard it before; it's like a broken record.
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