"I better go in, Cary, before it really starts pouring."
"Right. When should I come by tomorrow?"
"Wait for me to call you. I'd like to visit Grandma Belinda, if I could."
"Sure, I'll take you," he said.
"You should be spending all your time with your mother, Cary. She must be so sad. And lonely."
"I can't sit there all day and watch her cry, Melody. It makes me crazy to see how sad she is. The best I can do is work hard and show her that everything will be all right. I'll take care of things."
"I know you will," I said, nodding. "I'll call you tomorrow."
I gave him a quick kiss and hopped out of the truck. He watched me cross in front of it and smiled at me as I walked to the front door. He didn't start the engine until I opened the door to go in. I waved and he started away.
With the sky so overcast and the lights either off or turned low, it was dismal and dark in the house. I felt a chill run through my body and folded my arms across my chest as I hurried up the stairs. When I reached the second floor and turned toward my room, I found Grandma Olivia waiting at my door. Without a greeting, she opened the door for me and stood back.
"Let's talk," she said, grimly.
Keeping my head down and my arms still folded, I walked by her and into the room. She closed the door softly behind her.
"Where were you all day?"
"I went to Aunt Sara's and spent time with her and May, and then Cary took me to see Kenneth," I replied. "It would probably be better if you stopped going out to that beach house so much now," she declared. "
"Why?
"There's enough suspicious gossip going on. It will only add to it."
"I can't hide from every whisper in
Provincetown," I said.
She stiffened.
"You will lead an exemplary life here. No one will have any reason to utter the smallest suspicion or tale of indiscretion," she demanded as if she could order the future at will.
"I'm not going to stop seeing Kenneth. He's my uncle, my real uncle."
"Don't ever say that to anyone, do you understand?" she snapped, moving to stand over me. Her eyes looked more haunted by her own fears than rage at me. Nothing appeared to terrify her more than the community learning Judge Childs was my grandfather and had been her sister's lover.
"I have no intention of rattling any of the skeletons in our family closet, Grandma Olivia. It wouldn't serve any purpose except to hurt people who have already suffered too much because of them."
She smiled, relieved, and nodded.
"That's right. That's good thinking."
"How is my grandmother?" I asked firmly.
"Belinda is . . . Belinda. She was taken off the medication that turned her into a vegetable, if that's what you mean."
"Good. I'm going to see her tomorrow. Don't worry, you won't have to waste any gas. Cary's taking me," I said quickly.
"That's the main reason I wanted to talk to you," she said. "You've grown too close to Cary. I understand why," she continued, crossing to the window. The rain had become harder and the wind was flinging the heavy drops at the house, drumming a wild beat upon the roof. "You were alone; you were in strange surroundings but you had a contemporary to talk to and befriend you. However, now that you are here, you've got to create some distance between the two of you."
"Whatever for?" I asked and she pivoted quickly.
"Cary is a good, responsible young man, but too limited for you now. You can't make the mistakes I made," she warned. "There would be no purpose for taking you in if I didn't teach you that," she added.
"Being with someone you love can never be a mistake," I replied.
She shook her head.
"When you've grown out of these foolish romantic notions, you will be strong enough to take on the responsibilities I have in mind for you. Besides, you're not thinking of your immediate future. You will finish this school year, go to a prestigious prep school which will prepare you for the best colleges, where i am sure you will meet someone from a distinguished family and form a meaningful relationship."
"You talk like you have my whole life planned out for me."
"I will do the best I can, but you must be cooperative and obedient," she continued, obviously not at all concerned with my feelings. "I've been thinking about you all day and I've concluded that you can begin your training immediately. For that purpose, I have contracted with an excellent tutor, a Miss Louise May Burton, who happens to be a retired charm school teacher. You will begin your lessons the day after tomorrow, so don't make any silly plans to wander the beaches, or go sailing or visit anyone."
"Lessons?
-
in what?"
"Etiquette, manners, behavior. You are going to attend schools populated by the daughters of only the best families, people of stature, good breeding, pure blood,"
"There's nothing wrong with my manners," I complained.
She laughed.
"How would you know, my dear? Have you ever been with people who recognized the
difference?"
I stared at her a moment, my anger simmering my blood into a rolling boil. Yes, my mother was a great disappointment, but there were many people in my life who were warm and decent. Why, Papa George and Mama Arlene would make any of Grandma Olivia's blue bloods look like savages when it came to true and good feelings and decency, I thought.
But Papa George was dead and Mama Arlene had moved away, a small voice reminded me.
"That's settled then," Grandma Olivia continued. "You will limit your contact with Kenneth Childs and with Cary and you will be a good student of manners."
"I won't limit my contact with Cary," I challenged.
"If you won't on your own accord, I'll have to speak with Sara. And," she said smiling, "you know what sort of influence I have with Sara. They are, despite what dribbles in from that dying lobster boat business and their silly cranberries, dependent upon my charity to an extent you don't fathom. Why even that pathetic house really belongs to me," she revealed. "My son needed to borrow the money for the mortgage."
"You wouldn't dare do anything to hurt them," I countered.
She fixed her eyes on me with a firmness that put ice into my veins.
"Not unless you force me too," she said. Then she smiled. "I suppose you could always run away and live like your dead mother. Think it all over and I'm sure you'll conclude that your best chances for a decent life are here with me and with what I will do for you."
"Why are you really doing all this for me?" I asked her, suddenly more curious than angry.
"I told you, for the family's sake," she said.
I shook my head.
"There's another reason."
"There is no other reason . . . for anything," she declared and then turned to leave my room.
The rain grew heavier, its drum beat pounding on my heart as well as on the house. I saw Cary's loving smile, his deep green eyes revealing his great need for me and great trust. How could I disappoint him? Grandma Olivia's threats scared me. I thought about the fury in her face.
Some time ago, she had trusted her heart to someone who had betrayed her and from that betrayal my mother was born, a woman she couldn't control or mold. I was her last chance for revenge.
But revenge against whom? Against what?
Was it someone or was it merely a world she had come to despise? Maybe it was both, I thought.
I was sure that in the days to follow I would find all the answers, only I was just as terrified of making the discoveries as I was of not.
I was floundering in a world of adult quicksand. Who would throw me a line to pull me out? Kenneth? Judge Childs? My Grandmother Belinda? Cary? Everyone seemed to be floundering just as much.
Only Grandma Olivia, only she seemed to walk on firm ground. I had to admire her for that, and suddenly, I was filled with a new fear.
What if she got her way and I became the woman she wanted me to become?
Would I become her?
Then surely, she would have her revenge.
Grandpa Samuel did not join us for dinner. When
Loretta began serving, I inquired after him. "Samuel's
-
not up to coming down to dinner tonight,"
Grandma Olivia said and began to eat her soup. "Isn't he hungry?"
"He doesn't remember when he ate and when he didn't," she remarked acidly.
"Well, that's terrible, isn't it?" I pursued.
"Yes," she said and paused. "I'm debating whether to have a nurse move in to help take care of him or--"
"Or what?"
"Have him placed in the home Belinda is in. The doctor will be examining him again in a few days and we'll know what he thinks we should do."
"Surely, he'll get better. He's just overcome with grief," I said.
She dabbed her mouth daintily and signaled for Loretta to remove her bowl.
"Really Melody, I don't know if we have room on our door to hang it," she said.
"Hang it? Hang what?"
"Your medical degree. I didn't know you had one," she said humorlessly.
"I'm just saying that it's possible, isn't it? He just needs some tender love and care. It's very painful to lose someone you love," I shot back. Sarcasm dripped from those thin, smug lips of hers.
"Of course it's painful, but tragedy and sadness must be subdued if you are to be of any value to anyone, including yourself. If all you are going to do is wallow in tears, you might as well throw yourself into the grave with your loved one. I may sound insensitive to you, Melody, but I am a realist, pragmatic. All the success, all that we have, is a result of that strength.
"And the irony is," she continued, "the weaker, more sensitive members of my immediate family are totally dependent upon my strength. Where would they be without me? Where do you think Samuel would eventually end up, and Belinda and Sara? All of them. Even you," she added.
She nodded at Loretta, who began serving the entree, but who looked terrified of doing anything that would interrupt. Grandma Olivia continued.
"I don't expect gratitude. I don't need to be continually stroked with thank-yous, but I won't be despised for my actions either. Is that clear?" she demanded.
I glanced at Loretta, who looked like she was waiting for my reply before she would serve me, too.
"Yes, ma'am," I said.
"Good." She began to eat while I poked at my food. "You may go visit Belinda tomorrow. You should, now that I think about it. Tell her about Haille. Give her all the details about her daughter. A good dose of reality might be beneficial," she said, nodding and smiling.
We stared at each other a moment and then we ate quietly, neither of us saying another word until we were finished. Loretta was there to remove the dishes in an instant and quietly announced that she'd be bringing out dessert momentarily.
"I'm tired and I've had enough to eat. You should take your time. Try the creme brulee. It's very good," Grandma Olivia said and retreated to the parlor.
I had no more appetite and left the dining room soon after her. When I passed the parlor, I saw her sitting in her grand cushioned chair, suddenly looking very small, exhausted and alone. She had a book in her lap, but she wasn't reading anymore. She was staring out the window at the slow downpour, watching as the sky poured out the tears she'd never allow herself to shed.
I went upstairs to my room, but when I reached the second floor, I heard a door open and close and saw Grandpa Samuel coming down the hallway. He spotted me and hurried toward me. He wore a pair of pajamas and a dark blue velvet robe, but he was barefoot. His hair was disheveled. It looked like he had been running his fingers through it for hours.
"Haille," he whispered. "I'm glad you're back."
"No, Grandpa. I'm Melody," I said softly with a smile. "Melody."
He shook his head and looked back as if he was afraid of being overheard.
"She's gone and done it. I told her it wasn't right, but she forbade me to utter a word. She said it was a family disgrace and if I should so much as drop a hint in public or to Jacob and Sara, she would have me thrown out. She would tell everyone I was responsible for your pregnancy after all. Can you imagine? I think she meant it."
"Grandpa."
"I'm not saying she's not right. Maybe she is better off where she is, but Haille, you--"
"Grandpa, it's me, Melody," I said. I reached out and took his hand. He turned and looked into my face. "What?"
"Look at me closely. I'm not my mother."
"You mustn't tell her I told you," he said. He looked very frightened.
"Tell her what? Who are you talking about? Belinda?" He shook his head.
"I'm not responsible," he said, pulling his hand from mine and backing away. "You can't blame me."
"Grandpa."
"I'm going to bed. Things will look different in the morning. They always look different in the morning. But if you don't believe me, you go into the basement and you look. You'll find the papers. Shh," he said bringing his finger to his lips. "Don't say a word. Don't let her know I told you," he warned me. "Just pretend you found the papers yourself," he added and hurried away, looking back only once before going into his bedroom and closing the door.
What papers?
Was it all part of his madness? Like Ophelia in Hamlet, had he been driven insane by the death of someone he loved? If he didn't come out of his constant state of confusion he would end up in a rest home, I sadly thought.
Or were there more skeletons dangling in a closet I had yet to discover? Was it not just madness but painful memories that did this to him?
I heard footsteps below. Grandma Olivia was coming up the stairs, and for now, I thought, I would keep Grandpa Samuel's words to myself.
In my room I lay on the bed, my thoughts tumbling through my mind, making it impossible to sleep. Grandpa Samuel's words echoed in my ears and when I did finally drift off to sleep, it was of secrets and lies and whispers from beyond the grave that I dreamt. I tossed and turned for most of the night before I finally gave up on sleep.
I lay there with my eyes wide open for the longest time. The rain had stopped but the wind continued to whistle and blow over the big house, scratching at the window and whispering a name. My nightmares had stirred a voice. I could not make it out, but I knew it was a secret deeper than I had ever fathomed.
13
How Sweet It Is
.
After breakfast the next day, Cary came by to
take me to see Grandma Belinda. I waited at the parlor window so I could rush out to meet him as soon as he pulled into the driveway. I didn't want him to have to see the look of disapproval on Grandma Olivia's face. He would surely ask me about it and I would have to tell him her feelings concerning us. If there was anything I wanted to avoid at the moment, it was family turmoil, especially when it could be traced back to me.