The Christmas Pearl Read Online Free PDF Page B

great-grandmother.
    “I love you, too.”
    Heaven knows, that child was an absolute angel. How he’d wound up in this family was anybody’s guess.
    I stood to my full height, which was a fraction less than it had been in prior years, and surveyed them, this small sea of dissatisfied faces bobbing before me like wontons in a bowl of soup, lives of privilege, good health, safety, reasonable intelligence—and what? They didn’t have a toothpick of gratitude for all they had been given. I nodded to them and left the room. I left them in silence, and then, to my surprise, I heard Cleland clear his throat and mutter something to George about how I was right! See? He wasn’t always a skunk!
    It was going on ten o’clock and I was exhausted.
    I climbed the stairs and went to my room. After changing into my nightclothes and moisturizing—for the sake of itch not to sustain youth—I got into mybed and kissed the picture of Fred that I kept beside my bed. It was true enough that my grief over losing him was at least partially responsible for the household gloom and I reminded myself to buck up, at least for the sake of the children.
    On a brighter note, I loved my room. It was one of six on the safer haven of the second floor. I actually liked it better than the master bedroom. It was less chilly and had a fireplace with a lovely gray-and-white marble mantelpiece. A marginally refurbished bathroom was attached to the room, so that gave me additional privacy. When I traded bedrooms with Barbara and Cleland, I redecorated this room with beautiful yellow jacquard chintz that was covered in pink flowers and green leaves. It was very cheerful, and just being there was like getting a shot of vitamin B 12 . I had a large comfortable club chair and ottoman near the window that was positioned for beautiful afternoon light for reading. Books were my passion and my escape from the madness.
    At the other end of the floor, Cleland and Barbara were ensconced in the room I had once shared with Fred after my parents passed on. I’d sensed that Cleland was just dying to assume the grandest bedroom, so I let them have it, rather than making them wait around for me to go dancing into eternity with the Grim Reaper. I didn’t care. I would have done anything I could to make Cleland feel like the lord of the manor. I always hoped that those concessions and my financial contributions to the house would make him be a little nicer to my daughter. If I had to hang a title on his general demeanor, I would say that Cleland was resigned to his marriage. It was not and never had been a source of great joy for him. So my efforts were probably futile, as you couldn’t make someone love and adore somebody when they plainly did not.
    Fortunately, the square footage of the house kept us at a pleasant enough distance from one another. The room next to mine was a guest room, which we referred to as the Green Room, even though it had not been green for eons. When they came to visit, George and Lynette stayed in the room opposite it, which was called the Bridal Suite for some reason I can’t recall—probably since it was decorated in hues and patterns of ivory and it housed a beautiful old rock-crystal chandelier. Teddie occupied the room next to them, which was wallpapered in pastel shades of pink and green. It was so feminine and sweet. I sighed thinking how it would be so lovely if these qualities rubbed off on her, but then, she was at a difficult age, poor child. But she was not a stupid child, just inconsiderate and insensitive. I decided I would spend some time with her, if she would let me, and we would talk about life and how to make it beautiful for everyone around you. That wasit! I would use every trick in my book to pound a little grace into her.
    Cleland used the room next to the master bedroom as his study, which buffered any sounds that might have echoed through the walls from the others’ arguing or late-night television, which they turned up