Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

immediately. Your uncle has gone to supervise the work at the hotel," she added, "or I would bring him in here to see and hear this."
    "I don't care if you tell him or not," I said.
    "Well?" I asked Richard.
    "I threw them out the window," he confessed.
    "What? When?" It had started raining after dinner and then rained all night.
    "Last night before I went to sleep," he said.
    "Everything's probably ruined. Are you satisfied?" I asked Aunt Bet.
    "Richard," she said. "You shouldn't have done that. You should have come to me, first," she chastised gently.
    "I'm just tired of living in a pigsty," he replied coldly.
    "Well, I can understand that," she said. "Maybe Jefferson will take better care of his things from now on," she added, turning to me.
    "If he touches any of my brother's things again, he'll be very sorry," I threatened. I slapped the brush into his hand. He winced and backed away.
    Then I took Jefferson's hand and we marched out of the room. After I got dressed, we went out and found his shoes, pants, shirt and underwear under the window. The shoes were soaked and I was sure they were ruined. Mrs. Boston said that when they dried, they would probably be out of shape and rough to wear.
    Still enraged, I put them in a paper bag and walked over to the hotel to find Uncle Philip. Most of the hotel's main structure had been demolished. Now the workmen were in the process of removing the debris. Uncle Philip was conferring with the architect and the engineers about the rebuilding of the hotel and the changes they would make. He looked up from the blueprints when I arrived. It was impossible to look at my face and not see the anger. My cheeks were crimson, my eyes bright with heat, my lips trembling with fury.
    "Excuse me," Uncle Philip said quickly and stepped away from the others. "What's wrong, Christie?"
    "Look," I said, thrusting the bag of soaked shoes at him. He took it and gazed inside. Then he felt them.
    "What happened?" he asked, a look of concern in his face.
    "Richard threw Jefferson's shoes and his clothes out the window last night because he didn't like the way Jefferson takes care of his things. He didn't care that it was pouring and these would be ruined."
    Uncle Philip nodded.
    "I'll have a talk with him," he said.
    "Aunt Bet thinks he did the right thing," I declared. Again, Uncle Philip nodded.
    "I know this has been extra-hard for you, for everyone. So many different personalities thrown together abruptly. It's overwhelming at times," he said, shaking his head sympathetically.
    "Not for Aunt Bet and Richard and Melanie," I replied.
    "Sure it has," he said. "But that doesn't excuse something like this. I'll straighten it all out tonight," he promised and smiled. "I want you to be as happy as you can be, Christie," he said, putting his hand on my cheek. "You're too lovely to be made upset and far too fragile, I know."
    "I'm not fragile, Uncle Philip. And it's my brother who is being terrorized right now, not me. I can take care of myself, but he's only nine and . . ."
    "Of course. Calm down. I promise, I'll straighten everything out. I'll make it up to you," he said. "In the meantime tell Julius to take you and Jefferson into the village to buy him another pair of shoes, okay?"
    "It's not just the shoes," I insisted.
    "I know, but there's no point in turning this into World War Three now, is there? We're all too fresh with sorrow from the tragedy. Do whatever you can, whatever you want to calm things down, Christie. You're smarter and older than Richard and Melanie," he said. For a minute, I thought he was going to add Aunt Bet, too. "I know I can depend on you."
    My anger subsided. The men were waiting for him and there wasn't much else I could have him do anyway. As long as he understood and promised to do something, I thought.
    "All right."
    "That's a good girl," he said and drew me to him to embrace me and kiss me on the cheek, his lips grazing mine as he pulled back. I stared at him a moment and then turned and ran all the way home to get Jefferson and go shopping for his new shoes.
     
    Despite Uncle Philip's promises, one crisis ended only to be followed by another. There were arguments between Jefferson and Richard over use of the bathroom, over toys and games, and over what television programs to watch. It was easy to see they were like two feuding cats put into the same cage. Peace could be broken at a moment's notice.
    Fortunately, most of the time, Richard wanted to be with Melanie.