The Bird’s Nest Read Online Free PDF

right.” She looked coldly at Elizabeth. “You got another one of your phony backaches?”
    â€œYes. I mean, I have my backache again. And my head aches.”
    â€œFor all the sympathy you’ll get from
me
tonight,” Aunt Morgen said heavily. “How often you think you can get away with it?”
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    â€œAnd how is our poor head
this
morning?” Aunt Morgen inquired at breakfast.
    â€œA little better, thank you,” said Elizabeth, and then she saw Aunt Morgen’s face. “I’m sorry,” she said involuntarily.
    â€œHave a pleasant time?” Aunt Morgen asked. “Poor devil still hoping?”
    â€œI don’t know—”
    â€œYou don’t
know?
” Aunt Morgen’s irony was heavy. “Surely, Elizabeth, even your mother—”
    â€œI didn’t.”
    â€œSo you didn’t.” Aunt Morgen turned back to her coffee. “How do you feel?” she asked finally, grudgingly.
    â€œAbout the same, Aunt Morgen. My back hurts, and my head.”
    â€œYou ought to see a doctor,” Aunt Morgen said, and then, standing abruptly, and slamming her hand on the table, “honest to
God,
kiddo, you
ought
to see a
doctor!
”
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    â€œ. . . and i can do whatever i want and you cant do anything about it and i hate you dirty lizzie and youll be sorry you ever heard of me because now we both know youre a dirty dirty dirty . . .”
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    Elizabeth sat on her bed, counting her letters. Someone had written her lots of letters, she thought fondly, lots of letters; here were five. She kept them all in the red valentine box and every afternoon now, when she came home from work, she put the new one in and counted them over. The very feel of them was important, as though at last someone had found her out, someone close and dear, someone who wanted to watch her all the time; someone who writes letters to me, Elizabeth thought, touching the papers gently. The clock on the stair landing struck five, and reluctantly she began to gather the letters together, folding them neatly and putting them back into their envelopes. She would not like to have Aunt Morgen see her letters. They were all safely back in the box and she had put away the chair she stood on to put the box onto the shelf of her closet, when the door crashed open and Aunt Morgen came in. “Elizabeth,” she said, “kiddo, what’s
wrong?
”
    â€œNothing,” said Elizabeth.
    Aunt Morgen’s face was white, and she held tight to the doorknob. “I’ve been calling you,” she said. “I’ve been knocking on your door and calling you and outdoors looking for you and calling you and you didn’t answer.” She stopped for a minute, holding tight to the doorknob. “I’ve been calling you,” she said at last.
    â€œI’ve been right here. I was just getting ready for dinner.”
    â€œI thought you were—” Aunt Morgen stopped. Elizabeth looked at her anxiously, and saw that she was staring at the table by the bed. Turning, Elizabeth saw one of Aunt Morgen’s brandy bottles on the table. “Why did you put that in my room?” Elizabeth asked.
    Aunt Morgen let go of the doorknob and came toward Elizabeth. “God almighty,” she said, “you
stink
of the stuff.”
    â€œI don’t.” Elizabeth backed away; Aunt Morgen, unreasonably, frightened her. “Aunt Morgen, please let’s go have dinner.”
    â€œMud.” Aunt Morgen took up the brandy bottle and held it to the light. “Dinner,” she said, and laughed shortly.
    â€œPlease, Aunt Morgen, come downstairs.”
    â€œI,” said Aunt Morgen, “am going to my room.” Eyeing Elizabeth, she backed toward the door, the brandy bottle in her hand. “
I
think,” she said, her hand again on the doorknob,