Marigold by Heather Manheim (best books for 8th graders .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Heather Manheim
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“He can be, I suppose. You have to remember, everyone in that church is fully dedicated to him. They don’t televise the wedding because the public can’t see the opulence. They’ll just see the pictures of you in more casual clothing. You’re a new wife, too. Everett wants to make sure you’ll submit and know who is in charge. He asserts his power first; he’s drawing a line in the sand right from the start. He’ll be a little nicer as time goes on, I think. But he doesn’t like being challenged or feeling like he’s not in complete control of a situation, so he’ll lash out against that. Don’t forget, you’re also not under the influence of the Marigold Injection, like almost everyone else here. Honestly, though, it’s the last thing you should be worried about; let’s get you ready to go out there, so this doesn’t get worse for you.”
Duffy dried the tears Davis was shedding and pat her hand. Cox came in and said they had to get Delilah ready immediately. Cox touched up her makeup and hair while telling her to calm down and pull herself together. “You’re already late, Delilah. President Everett gave you ten minutes, and it’s nearly been twenty. You can’t keep him waiting. Get it together.”
Davis said a quiet prayer to herself for strength to carry on. She asked for tenacity, hope, and determination. It propelled her forward, and she got further comfort as she decided Duffy was right. They would figure this out later. Duffy now had the information about Brookshire’s double-cross and knew the bee venom was gone. There was always tomorrow to figure out what to do, and since she couldn’t murder someone, no matter how much they might deserve it, there was no other choice but to carry on as if life was as orderly as Everett liked it to appear.
Davis walked out, determined to think of herself only as Davis or Amelia, despite them calling her “Delilah” so that she could hold onto a fragment of herself. She was also mad at herself for not having the strength to kill Everett when there had been a chance. Deciding to filter that anger into energy to get through the day, she slipped off her shoes before going outside. Just eliminating the pain helped her feel better and think more clearly. She did not care if Everett mentioned anything about her shoes. Her dress was long enough to cover her feet, and he was so self-centered, she doubted he’d notice anyhow.
As Davis walked outside, the sun made her squint. It seemed hot and harsh, bearing down on her without mercy. Everett came up to her, grabbing her hand and curtly saying, “Hurry up!”
They took a few photos; at some point, Everett noticed Davis was not wearing shoes, and he chastised her for that. She felt at her belt to feel the comfort of the knife. She was distressed to find it must have fallen out in the room. It was gone. Feeling dismayed, she realized it didn’t matter anyhow. She didn’t have the nerve to murder anyone.
Every photo felt the same. Everett’s positioning was either in front of or above Davis. The photographer kept directing her to look at President Everett with “reverence and admiration.” At one point, the photographer jubilantly said, “Look at him like all your dreams just came true because, of course, they have!” At the same time, the photographer’s instruction to Everett was to “Look like he found a lost, injured puppy.”
There were poses with the other wives, all of them lovingly arranged around President Everett, looking at him as a savior. Davis noticed Ruby wasn’t in the photos and wasn’t present, either. She hoped that Ruby didn’t get in trouble for visiting her or that Brookshire hadn’t mentioned to Everett that Davis and Ruby figured out their relationship. She hoped Everett had skirted Ruby safely away someplace, and that’s all that it was.
Everett told Davis the photos would be quick, but they continued on and on, so she was more than pleased she took those shoes off. The photoshoot seemed to be more about stroking President Everett’s ego and displaying as much admiration for him as possible. He relished his time, which was funny to Davis as he was always in the spotlight. She couldn’t believe how ridiculous the whole thing was. Everyone else acted as if it were normal, though.
Finally, after about an hour, Everett pulled her arm to get her attention and said they would go up to an overlook above the garden for a few last photos before changing their clothing. He nearly pulled her up the stairs, making her trip and stub her toe on the way up.
Davis tried to find some humanity in Everett. “Please slow down. I’m hurt.”
“You decided to take your shoes off. Deal with the consequences.” He then calmed the tone of his voice and softened his face. “Look, Delilah, I can be a very nice and accommodating husband. I want to be. But I’m running a country and a household of wives here. I need you always to pay attention and keep up with me. I need complete cooperation and submission. When I ask you to be out of your room in ten minutes, I want to see your pretty face ready in eight.”
When they got to the top of the stairs, Davis felt conquered, so she apologized for the trouble she caused and asked for a second to compose herself. Everett smugly told her, “That’s what I like to hear,” before propping himself up and sitting on the edge of the overlook’s thick marble wall, looking inward toward Davis. The look on his face and the tone of his voice reached the epitome of vainglorious behavior. “Hey, Delilah, I have a great idea,” a smirk spread across his face, which Davis realized was not as handsome as she once thought. “Get on your knees and look up at me adoringly.” There was
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