Part 1 (2/2)

”She may call you 'Grandfather' if she wishes,” said Jillian coolly. ”After all, darling, it does help for you to have family ties, doesn't it?”

There were undercurrents flowing here I didn't understand. From one to the other my head turned, so I paid very little attention to where our long car was headed until the highways broadened into freeways, and then I saw a sign that said we were heading north. Uneasy about my situation, once again I made my feeble attempt to find out what Pa had told them during his long-distance telephone call.

”Very little,” answered Tony, as Jillian bowed her head and seemed to sniffle, from a cold or from emotion, I couldn't tell. Her lace handkerchief delicately touched her eyes from time to time. ”Your father seemed a very pleasant fellow. He said you had just lost your mother, and grief had put you into deep depression, and naturally we wanted to do what we could to help. It has always pained us that your mother never kept in touch with us, or let us know where she was. About two months after she ran away, she did write us a postcard to say she was all right, but we never heard from her again. We tried our best to find her; even hired detectives. The postcard was so smeared it couldn't be read, and the picture was of Atlanta, not Winnerrow, West Virginia.” He paused and covered my hand with his. ”Dearest girl, we are both so very sorry to hear about your mother's death. Your loss is our loss as well. If only we could have known of her condition before it was too late. There is so much we could have done to have made her last days happier. I think your father mentioned . . . cancer . . .”

Oh, oh!

How horrible for Pa to lie!

My mother had died less than five minutes after my birth, shortly after she named me. His lying deceit made my blood run cold and drain down to my ankles, leaving a hollow ache in my stomach so I felt sick. It wasn't fair to give me lies on which to build a solid foundation for a happy future! But life had never been fair to me; why should I expect anything different now? d.a.m.n you, Pa, for not telling the truth! It had been Kitty Dennison who had died days ago! Kitty, the woman he had sold me to for five hundred bucks! Kitty, who had been so ruthlessly cruel with her scalding.. hot bath, her quick temper and ready blows before illness stole her strength.

Desperately, as I sat with my knees together, my hands nervously twisting on my lap and trying not to ball into fists, I rationalized that maybe this lie had been very clever of Pa.

If he had told them the truth, that my mother had died years and years ago, perhaps they would not have been as willing to help a hillbilly girl who had grown used to her deprived situation and accustomed to being motherless.

Then it was Jillian's turn to comfort me. ”Dearest Heaven, I am going to sit down with you one day very, very soon and ask you a million or more questions about my daughter,” she whispered hoa.r.s.ely, choking up and forgetting to blot her tears. ”At this moment I am just too upset and emotional to hear more. Indulge me, darling, please.”

”But I would like to know more now,” said Tony, squeezing my hand that he had again captured. ”Your father said he called from Winnerrow, and that he and your mother lived there all their married lives. Did you like Winnerrow?”

At first my tongue refused to form words, but as the silence stretched and became uncomfortably thick, I finally found what wasn't truly a lie, ”Yes, I like Winnerrow well enough.”

”That's good. We would so hate to think that Leigh and her child were unhappy.”

I allowed my eyes to meet his briefly before they fled again to stare almost blindly at the pa.s.sing scenery. Then he was asking: ”How did your mother meet your father?”

”Please, Tony!” cried Jillian, in what appeared to be great distress. ”Didn't I just say I am too upset to hear the details? My daughter is dead, and for years she didn't write to me! Can I forget and forgive her for that? I waited and I waited for her to write and plead for forgiveness! She hurt me when she ran away! I cried for months! I hate to cry; you know that, Tony!” She sobbed rough and harsh, as if truly sobbing were new to her throat, then touched her eyes again with her lacy bit of cloth. ”Leigh knew I was emotional and sensitive and I would suffer, but she didn't care. She never loved me. It was Cleave she loved best. And in truth she helped to kill the father who couldn't put himself back together once she was gone . . . so I have just made up my mind, I am not going to let grief for Leigh rob me of happiness and ruin the rest of my life with regrets!”

”Why, Jill, I never thought for one second you would let grief ruin your life. Besides, you have to remember Leigh had seventeen years of life with a man she adored, isn't that so, Heaven?”

I continued to stare blindly out of the side windows. Oh dear G.o.d, how could I answer that without spoiling my chances? If they knew--and obviously they didn't know, it might change their att.i.tude toward me. ”It looks like it might rain,” I said nervously, staring outside I pushed backward on the rich suede seat and tried to relax. Jillian had been part of my life for less than an hour, and already I guessed that she didn't want to hear of anyone's problems, neither mine nor my mother's. I bit down harder on my lower lip, trying to keep from showing my emotions, and then, like the blessing white-lies could sometimes be, my pride came back in full dress parade. I sat straighter. I swallowed my tears. I vanquished the throat lump. My shoulders stiffened. And to my utmost surprise, my voice came out, strong, honest, sincere: ”My mother and father met in Atlanta and fell deeply in love on first sight. Daddy rushed her to his parents in West Virginia so she'd have a decent house in which to stay that night. His home was not exactly in Winnerrow, more on the outskirts. They were married in a proper church ceremony, with flowers, witnesses, and a minister to say the words, and later they drove away to honeymoon in Miami. And when they came back Daddy had a new bathroom added to our house just to please my mother.”

Silence!

A dead silence that went on and on--didn't they believe my lies?

”Why that was very nice, considerate,” murmured Tony, looking at me in the oddest way. ”Something I never would have thought of, a new bathroom, but practical, very practical.”

Jillian sat with her head turned, as if she didn't want to hear any of the details of her daughter's married life. ”How many people lived with your parents?” persisted Tony.

”Only Granny and Grandpa,” I said defensively. ”They were crazy about my mother, so much they called her nothing but Angel. It was Angel this, and Angel that. She could do no wrong. You would have liked my granny. She died a few years ago, but Grandpa still lives with Pa.”

”And what day and month were you born?” quizzed Tony. He had long, strong fingers, and his nails shone.

”February the twenty-second,” I said, giving the right date but the wrong year--I gave the year f.a.n.n.y had been born, one year after me. ”She'd been married to Pa for more than a year,” I added, thinking that sounded better than a birth that came just eight months after marriage, which might have betrayed some frenzied need my parents had had for bedding down with each other . .

And only when the words were out of my mouth did I realize just what I had done.

I had trapped myself. Now they thought I was only sixteen. Now I could never tell them about my half brothers Tom and Keith, and my half sisters, f.a.n.n.y and Our Jane. And it had been my solemn intention to enlist the help of my mother's parents so I could put my family back together again under one roof. Oh, G.o.d, forgive me for wanting to secure my own place first!

”Tony, I am tired. You know I have to rest between three and five if I am to appear fresh for that dinner party tonight.” A slightly troubled look shaded her expression before it quickly cleared. ”Heaven dear, you won't mind if Tony and I step out for a few hours tonight, will you? You'll have a TV in your room, and there's a wonderful library on the first floor with thousands of books.” She leaned to put a soft kiss on my cheek, smothering me with her perfume that already filled the enclosed s.p.a.ce. ”I would have canceled, but I completely forgot until this morning that you were due . . .”

Numbness tingled in my fingertips, perhaps because I had my fingers locked so tightly together. Already they were finding reasons for escaping me. No one in the hills would leave a guest alone in a strange house. ”It's all right,” I said weakly. ”I feel a little tired myself.”

”There, you see, Tony, she doesn't mind. I told you she wouldn't. And make up for it, Heaven dear, really I will. Tomorrow I'll take you riding. Do you know how to ride? If you don't, teach you. I was born on a horse ranch and my first horse was a stallion . . .”

”Jillian, please! Your first horse was a timid little pony.”

”Oh, you are such a bore, Tony! Really, what difference does it make? It just sounds better to learn on a stallion than on a pony, but Scuttles was a dear, a sweet little dear.”

It didn't seem so nice to be called ”Heaven dear” now that I knew she called everyone and everything ”dear.” And yet, when she smiled at me, and touched my cheek lightly with her gloved hand, I was so greedy for affection I trembled. I wanted more than anything for her to like me, eventually to love me, and I was going to try to make it happen fast, fast!

”Tell me that your mother was happy, that's all I need to know,” whispered Jillian.

”She was happy until the day she died,” I whispered, not really lying. She had been happy, foolishly happy, according to Granny and Grandpa, despite all the hards.h.i.+ps of a drafty, miserable shack in the hills, and a husband who couldn't give her anything like what she was accustomed to.

”Then I don't need to hear anything more,” crooned Jillian, putting her arm around me and pulling my head into the deep fur of her coat collar.

What would they say if they knew the truth about me and my family?

Would they just smile and think soon enough I'd be gone, and what difference did I make after all?

I couldn't let them know the truth. They had to accept me as one of their own kind; I had to make them need me, and they didn't yet know that they needed me. And I was not going to be scared and let them see my vulnerability.

Yet, they spoke a different kind of English than I did. I had to listen very carefully; even familiar words sounded strange in their p.r.o.nunciation. But I was determined to see that I'd soon be accepted in their world, so different from all that I had known. I was smart, quick to learn, and I'd find a way sooner or later to find Keith and Our Jane.

The perfume I'd considered delicate at first was now inundating me with its heavy base of jasmine, making me feel giddy and totally unreal. Thoughts of my stepmother Sarah came fleetingly to mind. Oh, if Sarah could only once in her life have a bottle of Jillian's perfume! A jar or box of Jillian's silky face powder!

The rain that I had predicted earlier began with a soft drizzle, and in seconds sheets of water drummed on the blacktop. The driver slowed and seemed to take more care, as all three of us behind the gla.s.s barrier stopped talking and sat each with our own thoughts. Going home, going home, that's all I had in mind. Going to where it's better, prettier, where sooner or later feel truly welcomed.

My dream was happening too fast for me to drink in all the impressions. I wanted to save and savor all of this first ride to wherever they were taking me, and ponder the memories later, when I was alone. Tonight, alone in a strange house. Better thoughts came. Oh, wait until I write and tell Tom about my beautiful grandmother! He'll never believe someone so old could look so young. And my sister f.a.n.n.y would be so jealous! If only I could call Logan, who was only a few miles away, living in some big college dorm. But I had been gullible and naive enough to fall for Cal Dennison's seduction. Logan didn't want me now. He would no doubt hang up if I phoned him.

Then, as the driver made a right turn, Jillian began to ramble on and on about the plans she would soon make to entertain me. ”And we always make Christmas a special event, we go all out, so to speak.”

Now I knew. She was telling me in her own way I could stay through Christmas. And it was only early October . . but October had always been a bittersweet month: goodbye to summer and all the bright and happy things; wait now for winter, for all the cold and bleak and stark things.

Why was I thinking like this? Winter wouldn't be cold and bleak in a fine rich house. There would be plenty of fuel oil, or coal or firewood, or electric heat, whatever, I'd be warm enough. By the time Christmas had come and gone, I'd have added so much fun to their lonely household, neither one would want me to go. No they wouldn't. They'd need me . . oh, G.o.d, let them need me!

Miles pa.s.sed, and to lift my spirits and my confidence, suddenly a brilliant sun peeked through the dreary clouds. Trees in vivid autumn colors lit up, and I believed G.o.d was going to s.h.i.+ne his light on me after all. Hope sprang into my heart. I was going to love New England. It looked so much like the w.i.l.l.i.e.s--only without the mountains and the shacks.

”We'll soon be there,” said Tony, lightly touching my hand. ”Turn your head to the right and look for a break in the tree line. The first glimpse of Farthing-gale Manor is a sight to remember.”

A house with a name! Impressed, I turned to him and smiled. ”Is it as grand as it sounds, is it?”

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