Precious Gifts Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Danielle Steel
contradict her—she knew that Juliette had harbored that fantasy for years. It was Timmie who always called her on it, not her mother. Véronique knew his failings as a father and a husband but had never criticized him to the girls.
She reached Joy while she was packing for the trip. She sounded distracted and numb.
“I’m taking the red-eye tonight,” Joy said to her mother. She was still trying to absorb the fact that she no longer had a father. The news had been a shock. She’d been in denial until then.
And after that Véronique called Timmie again. She was still in her office, completing a dozen different forms for SSI.
“I forgot to ask you if anyone called Bertie,” Véronique said, sounding distressed. He was Paul’s son by his first marriage, and he had been eight years old when Paul and Véronique married. His mother had died in a drowning accident when he was four. Véronique had treated him like her own son from the moment they married, but he had always been a challenging child. Bertie looked exactly like his father, but had none of his charm, even as a boy.
It had been no secret, over time, that Paul had married her for her money, although it took Véronique years to understand that, but he had been loving to her as well. Bertie was
only
interested in money, however he could get it, even as a child. Paul had done everything in his life with grace, elegance, and style. But whatever Bertie did came across as conniving. He had been thrown out of some of the best schools in New York for bad behavior, and for stealing. He had been kicked out of Dartmouth for cheating. And after college, he had been involved in dozens of get-rich-quick schemes that were always slightly shady and had never panned out. Now at thirty-eight, he was always broke, “on the verge of making a killing,” according to him, borrowing someone’s office or living on someone’s couch. He had gone through every penny Véronique had lent him to finance his schemes, and even Paul had given him some money to get on his feet. Bertie always managed to blow it and wind up in the midst of a lawsuit or get fired. He lived his life close to the edge and hand to mouth.
Véronique always explained his bad behavior by saying that he acted that way because he’d lost his mother as a very small child. And she had made every effort to support and help him when he was young and treated him as her own son, even after the divorce. But even she had finally stopped giving him money several years before. He was a bottomless pit. Véronique hadn’t seen Bertie in two years, although she felt bad about it. And she rarely heard from him, unless he wanted something.
Bertie was fiercely jealous of his sisters, and had been since they were born. He had taken their allowances when they were children and had grown up to be a profoundly greedy, dishonest person, with no integrity. If there was a choice, he took the low road every time. But no matter how unpleasant he was, he was still Paul’s son and had to be informed of his father’s death. He had never married, had no children that he knew of, and always had some sleazy woman on his arm. And he hated Timmie even more than the others, so she didn’t want to call him. He had tried unsuccessfully to bilk her out of money several times, saying he only needed to borrow it for a few weeks, but she knew him better and wouldn’t give him a dime.
He never wanted to believe that his sisters lived on what they earned and had no money to spare. It was a lesson their mother had wanted them to learn. Véronique had been far more generous with Bertie, to try to help him get on his feet, which he never did. But she hadn’t wanted the girls to be indolent or behave like heiresses, no matter how much they would inherit from her one day. They would be very rich women once she died, but for now they lived on their salaries, with only occasional help from her, like the loan for Juliette’s sandwich shop. Véronique had
She reached Joy while she was packing for the trip. She sounded distracted and numb.
“I’m taking the red-eye tonight,” Joy said to her mother. She was still trying to absorb the fact that she no longer had a father. The news had been a shock. She’d been in denial until then.
And after that Véronique called Timmie again. She was still in her office, completing a dozen different forms for SSI.
“I forgot to ask you if anyone called Bertie,” Véronique said, sounding distressed. He was Paul’s son by his first marriage, and he had been eight years old when Paul and Véronique married. His mother had died in a drowning accident when he was four. Véronique had treated him like her own son from the moment they married, but he had always been a challenging child. Bertie looked exactly like his father, but had none of his charm, even as a boy.
It had been no secret, over time, that Paul had married her for her money, although it took Véronique years to understand that, but he had been loving to her as well. Bertie was
only
interested in money, however he could get it, even as a child. Paul had done everything in his life with grace, elegance, and style. But whatever Bertie did came across as conniving. He had been thrown out of some of the best schools in New York for bad behavior, and for stealing. He had been kicked out of Dartmouth for cheating. And after college, he had been involved in dozens of get-rich-quick schemes that were always slightly shady and had never panned out. Now at thirty-eight, he was always broke, “on the verge of making a killing,” according to him, borrowing someone’s office or living on someone’s couch. He had gone through every penny Véronique had lent him to finance his schemes, and even Paul had given him some money to get on his feet. Bertie always managed to blow it and wind up in the midst of a lawsuit or get fired. He lived his life close to the edge and hand to mouth.
Véronique always explained his bad behavior by saying that he acted that way because he’d lost his mother as a very small child. And she had made every effort to support and help him when he was young and treated him as her own son, even after the divorce. But even she had finally stopped giving him money several years before. He was a bottomless pit. Véronique hadn’t seen Bertie in two years, although she felt bad about it. And she rarely heard from him, unless he wanted something.
Bertie was fiercely jealous of his sisters, and had been since they were born. He had taken their allowances when they were children and had grown up to be a profoundly greedy, dishonest person, with no integrity. If there was a choice, he took the low road every time. But no matter how unpleasant he was, he was still Paul’s son and had to be informed of his father’s death. He had never married, had no children that he knew of, and always had some sleazy woman on his arm. And he hated Timmie even more than the others, so she didn’t want to call him. He had tried unsuccessfully to bilk her out of money several times, saying he only needed to borrow it for a few weeks, but she knew him better and wouldn’t give him a dime.
He never wanted to believe that his sisters lived on what they earned and had no money to spare. It was a lesson their mother had wanted them to learn. Véronique had been far more generous with Bertie, to try to help him get on his feet, which he never did. But she hadn’t wanted the girls to be indolent or behave like heiresses, no matter how much they would inherit from her one day. They would be very rich women once she died, but for now they lived on their salaries, with only occasional help from her, like the loan for Juliette’s sandwich shop. Véronique had