The Unloved Read Online Free Page A

up.”
    Julie’s eyes widened as she stared at the immense white house that dominated the north end of the island. From where they stood, only the chimneys and a few gables were visible, for the building was surrounded by enormous live oak trees, their branches heavily laden with streamers of Spanish moss. Dotted among the oaks were a few white-blooming magnolias and some pines, but it was the wide, spreading branches of the ancient oaks themselves that caught Julie’s eye. They seemed to cradle the house, as if trying to protect it from something.
    “It—It’s a mansion,” she breathed.
    “It’s a white elephant,” Kevin replied. “In its day it served a purpose. Now it’s just a huge house that’s outlived its usefulness, and unless something’s changed since last time I was here, it’s getting just as run-down as the rest of the town.”
    Julie cocked her head and looked up at her father curiously. “But if Grandmother lives there, she must be rich, isn’t she?”
    Kevin’s lips twisted into a smile that was both wry and bitter. “There hasn’t been a rich Devereaux in three generations,” he replied. “My grandfather and my father hung onto the island by selling off the rest of the property bit by bit. A hundred years ago the family owned most of the county, and before the Civil War, a lot more. By now there can’t be much left except the island.”
    “Grandmother owns the whole island?” Jeff asked, his voice reflecting his awe. “All of it?”
    For the first time that day Kevin grinned, for he suddenly remembered when he was Jeff’s age and spent endless days exploring the hundred fifty acres of the island—discovering the ruined remains of the slave quarters which were all but lost in the overgrown tangle of vines that had long since been allowed to reclaim the once cultivated tracts; combing the beaches after storms, in search of lost treasures that might have washed up; hunting the marshes and patches of forest for rabbits, squirrels, and an occasional deer. For the first time since he had grown up, he saw the island through the eyes of a boy, and reached down to tousle Jeff’s blond hair. “Every acre of it,” he said. “And if you can’t find anything to do out there, then you’re going to be condemned to a life of boredom.” His mood suddenly lighter, he winked at Anne. “Come on. Let’s go see just how bad things have gotten in the decadent South.”
    A moment later the family was back in the car, moving slowly toward Devereaux. As they came into the town, it was apparent to Kevin that nothing had changed. The main street was just as he remembered it, slowly rotting away in the heat and humidity. There was a somnolence about the place; even the people seemed to move in slow motion. A dog slept in the middle of the road, flies buzzing around its head, but even when Kevin tooted the horn, the animal refused to bestir itself, and finally Kevin had to maneuver the station wagon around it.
    It didn’t occur to him until he had passed the animal that it might be dead.
    Just like the town, he reflected silently to himself. The whole place is dead, but nobody’s noticed.
    The scratchy sounds of the final moments of
Swan Lake
emerged from the speaker of the old phonograph in the corner of the ballroom on the third floor of Sea Oaks, and Marguerite Devereaux glanced quickly at the clock. For the first time in her memory, the hour-long ballet class seemed to drag on interminably and she was actually looking forward to her girls going home. Of course, she’d had to leave them twice already, going down to the second floor to explain to her mother that they couldn’t expect Kevin to arrive much before eleven, and she knew that in letting her excitement about Kevin’s arrival distract her from the lesson, she wasn’t being fair to the girls.
    The girls—only five of them this year—were the center of Marguerite’s life. Only when she was with them, carefully passing on to them all the