Part 4 (1/2)
”No, I don't think you will.” She smiled softly. ”Try as he might, your daddy hasn't succeeded in spoiling you,” she said, her eyes twinkling with love.
”Mother, will you ever tell me why you hate Tony Tatterton so much?” I swallowed and bit down hard on my tongue to prevent myself from telling her about Drake's letter and visit to Farthy.
”I don't hate him as much as I pity him, Annie,” she said, her voice firm. ”He may be one of the richest men on the East Coast, but he's apathetic creature as far as I'm concerned.”
”But why?”
She stared at me. Could she look at me and see the things I already knew, the things Drake had written about and told me about on the phone? I had to s.h.i.+ft my eyes away from hers, but the truth was, she wasn't looking at me; she was looking through me, looking at her own memories. I saw the way they turned and twisted her lips, narrowed her eyes, brought a smile and then a scowl to her face.
”Mother?”
”Annie,” she replied, ”a long time ago, someone once told me you trap yourself sometimes, by thinking desire and need is love. He was right. Love is something far e lore precious, but something far more fragile. As fragile as . . as one of our tiniest, most intricate, most delicately crafted toys. Hold on to it too tightly, and it will crumble in your fingers, but hold on to it too loosely, and the wind might blow it away and shatter it on the cold ground. Listen to the voice in your heart, Annie, but be absolutely sure the voice comes from your heart. Will you remember that, Annie?”
”Yes. But why are you telling me this? Does it have something to do with your life at Farthy?” I held my breath.
”Someday I'll tell you everything, Annie. I promise. It just isn't the time yet. Trust me, please.”
”I trust you, Mother. More than anyone in the world.” I couldn't help being disappointed. For so many years I had heard this promise. When would be the time? I was already eighteen years old, a fully grown woman. She had given me her most valuable diamonds, her most precious replica cottage. When would she give me the real story of her life?
”My Annie, my precious, precious, Annie.” She hugged me to her and pressed her cheek against mine. Then she sighed and stood up. ”Well, I haven't bought your aunt f.a.n.n.y a birthday gift yet. Want to help me pick something out?”
”Yes. Luke's so upset about her party though.”
”I know. Why we cater to her is a mystery to me. I don't underestimate your aunt f.a.n.n.y. She talks like a hillbilly, but she's far from dumb. She makes us feel guilty before we have a chance to say no. There's no one else like her,” she added shaking her head and smiling with amus.e.m.e.nt.
”Talk to her about Luke, Mother. Make her stop making him feel bad about going to Harvard.”
”He was accepted?” Delight lifted her voice. ”Yes. And with a full scholars.h.i.+p!”
”How wonderful!” She straightened into a flag of pride. ”Another descendent of Grandpa Toby Casteel goes to Harvard,” she announced as if to the whole town. Then her eyes softened. ”Don't worry about f.a.n.n.y. She will say and do something dramatic, but in her heart, she's proud of Luke, and I'm sure she will find some reason to pay him a visit and stroll over that campus like a queen.”
She folded her arms under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s like Aunt f.a.n.n.y often did, and threw her head back.
”Well, ma son goes here, so ah think I kin stroll over this gra.s.s if I've a mind ta.”
We both laughed and then she hu: led me again.
”That's better. Now you're the Annie you're supposed to be, happy, delicate, alive. You're everything I could have wished for myself, honey,” she said softly. My tears were tears of happiness now.
My mother, how quickly she could drive away my dark clouds. Suddenly my world was full of bright, golden suns.h.i.+ne again, and the songs of the birds were no longer sad songs. I hugged and kissed her and went into the bathroom to wash my tearstreaked cheeks so I could go shopping with her for a birthday gift for Aunt f.a.n.n.y.
FOUR.
Aunt f.a.n.n.y's Birthday Party.
It was a wonderful night for a party. The sky was a backdrop of rich black velvet with tiny diamonds cast randomly over it The air was fragrant and still. My parents and I were dressed and ready. Roland Star greeted us outside on the porch as we left the house. ”This is the calm before a mighty storm,” he drawled.
”But there's not a cloud in the sky!” I remarked. When it came to predicting weather, Roland was rarely wrong.
”They're hoverin' about up there, just over the horizon, Annie. They's the kind that sneak up on ya. Be a while yit, but watch fer the first streaks of lightnin'. Then head for the indoors.”
”Do you think it will rain?” I asked my mother. A spring thunderstorm could bring torrents and flood everything, turning any party into a disaster, ”Don't worry. We won't be at the party that long.” She looked to my father for confirmation, but he just shrugged. Then we got into our Rolls-Royce and started for f.a.n.n.y and Luke's house.
They had a nice home, modest in comparison with Hasbrouck House, but most every home in Winnerrow was. After Aunt f.a.n.n.y ”mysteriously” inherited a great deal of money--an inheritance Drake, Luke, and I came to realize had something to do with Drake's custody hearing--she had her home redesigned and expanded. She had bought the original home with money she had gotten from her first marriage, to someone named Mallory. I never knew his first name because she referred to him only as ”Ole Mallory.” Her second marriage, to Randall Wilc.o.x, was short-lived. He had long since moved away. Then Aunt f.a.n.n.y legally returned her name to Casteel, partly to rub it into the faces of the townspeople, I always thought.
Aunt f.a.n.n.y was always threatening she would have a third marriage. It seemed like an empty threat because for as long as I could remember, she hadn't ever gone out with anyone near her own age. All her boyfriends were in their twenties. One of her more recent ones, Brent Morris, was just four years older than Luke.
Her house was on a hill overlooking Winnerrow, and the rock band had set up speakers so huge that the music rolled right down to Main Street. We could hear the music blaring as we drove up the mountain. Mother thought that was outrageous, but Daddy only laughed.
By the time we arrived, the party was in full swing. The rock band had set themselves up in f.a.n.n.y's garage and the expanded and widened driveway served as a dance floor. Over the garage door a banner spelled HAPPY BIRTHDAY f.a.n.n.y! in fluorescent red paint. Paper lanterns hung from tree limbs, and streamers were draped everywhere on her property.
Mommy asked Daddy to park our car where it couldn't be blocked in by anyone, so we could make a quick getaway when she determined we had had enough, but Daddy didn't seem as eager to secure an escape route. He seemed in an unusually jolly mood. I suspected he had had a few drinks at home to fortify himself for the occasion. No matter how many years had gone by and how wonderful Mommy was about it, Daddy was always agitated in Aunt f.a.n.n.y's presence. Her conversations were usually stocked with innuendos that made almost everyone uncomfortable. I had to admire Mommy for the ladylike way she always handled f.a.n.n.y's carrying-on. I only hoped Luke was right--that I would be as strong and steady as she was when I was on my own.
Aunt f.a.n.n.y came running over to us as soon as we stepped out of the car. She had her hair crimped and blown out and wore the tightest black leather dress imaginable. It looked like a second layer of skin. The dress had a very low neckline, the base of the V dipping well below her cleavage. She wore no jewelry, almost as if she didn't want anything competing with her rich cream complexion and rosetinted bosom. Mother didn't look surprised, but Daddy's eyes widened with masculine appreciation. I looked around for Luke, realizing how embarra.s.sed he must already be.
f.a.n.n.y scooped one of her arms under Mother's right arm and the other under Daddy's left so she could escort them into the party, announcing their arrival as she did so. I followed closely behind.
A long bar with two bartenders had been set up in front of the house, and the bartenders were pouring drinks very generously, not even measuring how much alcohol they were putting in the gla.s.ses. Adjacent to the makes.h.i.+ft bar was a full keg of beer submerged in a vat of ice. A steady stream of men, many of whom lived in the w.i.l.l.i.e.s, stood in line to fill their quart-size mugs.
f.a.n.n.y had had strings of multicolored lights strung across the lawn from the house to adjacent trees. She had hired a half-dozen women to prepare and serve the food. All wore b.u.t.ton-down white cotton dresses and dished out the food from behind long tables covered with buckets of fried chickens, platters of fish, bowls filled with a variety of salads, mashed potatoes, and steaming vegetables.
”Ma rich sista and brotha-in-law, the king and queen of Winnerrow, the Stonewalls!” f.a.n.n.y bellowed.
”Oh, f.a.n.n.y, please. Behave yourself,” Mother chastised.
”Oh, let her enjoy herself,” Daddy said. I think he liked being called the king of Winnerrow. ”It's her night. Happy birthday, f.a.n.n.y,” he said.
”Why thank ya, Logan, dear, but don't I get at least one birthday kiss? That'd be all right with ya, won't it, Heavenly?”
”That's entirely up to Logan, f.a.n.n.y. I don't tell him who he can kiss and who he can't.”
Mother's reply struck f.a.n.n.y funny. She laughed and laughed and then suddenly stopped and rubbed up to my father so seductively, it interrupted conversations all around us. Everyone stopped and stared. Mother turned away, but I couldn't take my eyes off the two of them. Daddy smiled nervously and then he leaned forward to give f.a.n.n.y her birthday kiss.
When his lips met hers, f.a.n.n.y seized his shoulders and pulled him closer. I saw her work her tongue in between his lips and then press her breast against his arm. Some of the men from the w.i.l.l.i.e.s cheered and whooped lasciviously. When their lips finally parted, f.a.n.n.y pulled Daddy onto the dance floor as he looked back helplessly at Mother and me. f.a.n.n.y started to gyrate before him, egging him on to join her in what she called ”these modern dances.”
She made him loosen his tie.
”Ya didn't have ta get all fancied up for lir ale f.a.n.n.y,” she announced. She directed everything she said to the audience of young men that hovered around her. They laughed and smiled and nudged one another. The band played even louder.
I looked again for Luke, but didn't see him anywhere outside.
”I'm going to get something to eat, Annie,” Mother said tightly, ”and put f.a.n.n.y's present on the pile over there. Do you want something to eat?”
I looked at her face and wondered how she felt about Daddy and Aunt f.a.n.n.y being the center of attention, especially with all the gossip about their affair years ago. But even in these circ.u.mstances, Mommy had a wonderful way of holding in her true feelings. Only someone like me, someone who had known her so long and was as close to her as I was, could see the cold, hard look in her blue eyes and know that not only wasn't she happy, she was in a rage.
How could she be so controlled? I wondered. What if something similar to this happened to me and my husband? Could I carry on as she was or would I just explode? If it were Luke and he were kissing another woman . . .