Part 19 (1/2)
”Well, if he doesn't call or appear soon, drag him here myself.”
”Oh no, Drake. He must come here on his own, because he wants to, not because he has to. I won't be thought of as some obligation!” That would be the most terrible thing of all, I thought. I'd feel like some burden to him, instead of someone he loved and wanted to be with.
”Of course. I'm sorry,” Drake said. He looked away.
”Poor Drake. I didn't mean to shout at you just now. I'm sorry.” It seemed Drake was all that was left of my family now . . . Drake and Tony Tatterton.
”Oh, that's all right. But tell me now, Annie. Why did you look so troubled before, if it wasn't because of Luke?”
”Help me sit up, Drake,” I said. He got my seat pillow and fixed it so I could be comfortable. Then he sat beside me on the bed again. ”Drake, I forced Tony to tell me why he and Mommy had their falling out.”
Drake nodded, his eyes unmoving, but a slight smile on his lips.
”I knew you would . . . somehow. Can't hold you down, Annie. You're too much like your mother. Well? What terrible skeleton did you drag out of the closets of Farthy?”
I told him all of it, trying to be fair to Tony by explaining his reasons as he had explained them to me. As I spoke, Drake's face grew gray. Shadows, deep and dark, settled around his eyes. When I was finished, he turned away and remained silent for a long moment.
”Of course,” he began, ”I don't remember my father all that well. I was only five when he and my mother were killed, but I remember I had this beautiful fire engine, a Tatterton Toy that Heaven had given me, and whenever my father saw me playing with it, he always looked sad.
'You know who gave you that?' he would ask.
”Heaven,' I'd say. Of course, I forgot who she was or what she looked like, but the name stuck with me because he would always reply, 'Yes, Heaven, your sister.' And then he'd smile. There's no question that Tony did a terrible thing, but you are right to point out that my father bears half of the blame for sacrificing his daughter so he could own a circus.
”I think the time has come to forgive Tony, Annie. I loved Heaven almost as much as you did, and I don't think she would hate us for it.”
Hot tears burned down my cheeks. All I could do was nod. He wiped away my tears and hugged me. ”Now then,” he said, standing up quickly. ”I'd better get on my way. I want to return by late tomorrow. I'll bring everything directly to you.”
”Please give Mrs. Avery and Roland and Gerald my regards, and Drake . . promise me you won't have any bad words with Aunt f.a.n.n.y. Promise me, Drake.”
”All right, I promise. I'll just pretend she's not there, if she is.”
”And tell her it's all right for her to come to visit me at Farthy,”
”Sure.” He smirked.
”And you're not to say anything nasty to Luke.” ”Aye aye, commander.” He performed a mock salute. ”Please be careful, Drake.”
”I will, Annie. We haven't got much more than each other anymore.”
”Oh, Drake.”
He hugged me and then he left. Although the doors were open, it was as if he had shut them and I was locked away. The silence that followed his footsteps was heavy and oppressive. Chilled, I pulled my blanket up around my neck and stared up at the high ceiling.
Luke with another girl, I thought, and even though I tried to keep the images away, I couldn't. I saw him with some beautiful college girl, sitting in the cafeteria, talking. I saw him walking hand in hand over the campus, and I saw him kiss her, hold her the way I had always dreamt he would hold me.
Everything was slipping away, everything I loved. All the world I had known and loved seemed consumed in fires of pain and tragedy. Everything, even my precious magnolia trees, were charred. I was like a small bird, exhausted from a long flight, searching desperately for a safe place on which to alight. But all the branches were burned.
I closed my eyes and dreamed of Daddy, his arms outstretched, waiting to receive me. But when he embraced me, his arms were made of air.
”No! No!” I screamed. I woke up screaming. Tony was at my side.
””11 had a terrible nightmare,” I said, expecting he would want me to describe it.
”It's understandable, Annie.” He sat on my bed and leaned over to stroke my hair. ”After all you've been through, but when you awaken, you will be here, safe with me.
”Anyway,” he said, continuing to stroke my hair lovingly, ”soon the world will be brighter and happier for you. I have great plans for you. There are so many wonderful things I Want to do, changes I want to make. This place is going to come back to life and you will be the center of it. Like a princess,” he added, and I couldn't help but think about Luke and our fantasies. The memory brought a smile to my face, a smile Tony a.s.sumed he had put there.”
”See, you're feeling better already. Now,” he added, leaning over to the night table to get one of my sedatives. ”Mrs. Broadfield says you have to take one of these.” He handed me the pill and poured me some water. I took it obediently. After he placed the gla.s.s back on the table, he leaned over to kiss me on the forehead. ”Just close your eyes again and try to remain calm until sleep takes over.” He stood up. ”Sleep is a kind of medicine all to itself, you know,” he explained, obviously speaking from personal experience. ”Talk to you later. You all right now?”
”Yes, Tony.”
”Good.”
I watched him leave. Maybe it was a short time later, Or maybe it was in the middle of the night--I couldn't tell anymore because the sedative had confused me and jumbled up my awareness of time and place--but whenever it was, I thought I opened my eyes and saw a dark, thin, shadowy figure in my doorway.
He approached my bed, but for some reason I wasn't afraid. I felt him stroke my hair gently and then lean over and kiss my forehead. It made me feel safe, and I closed my eyes. I didn't open them again until I was awoken by the sound of Dr. Malisoff's voice.
FIFTEEN.
Like Mommy.
G.o.d morning, Annie. How do you feel?” Dr. Malisoff sat on the bed and Tony hovered a few steps behind him, looking like at expectant father, nervously rocking on his feet, his hands clasped behind his back. Mrs. Broadfield rushed in from the sitting room to bring the doctor a blood-pressure gauge. I struggled to sit up. I had slept deeply, but I didn't feel refreshed, and my lower back was stiff.
”A little tired,” I confessed. Truly I felt exhausted, wrung out, but I also wanted the doctor to allow a phone and visitors.
”Uh-huh.” He wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around my arm. ”Has she been eating well, Mrs. Broadfield?” he asked without taking his doctor's eyes of me. They looked like little microscopes turned on csy face.
”Not as well as I would like her to eat, no, Doctor,” Mrs. Broadfield replied like one schoolgirl tattling on another.
The doctor put on a face of reprimand and shook his head.
”I haven't had that much of an appet.i.te yet,” I offered in my defense.
”I know, but you've got to force yourself to keep up your strength for the fight . . . Are you relaxing, Annie? You don't look relaxed.” I glanced quickly at Tony, who s.h.i.+fted his eyes away guiltily.
”I'm doing my best.”
”She hasn't been having visitors and such, has she?” Dr. Malisoff asked Mrs. Broadfield.
”I've tried to keep her quiet,” she said without really answering. Why did she take everything so personally? I wondered. Was she afraid she would be fired as quickly as Millie was?
”I see.” The doctor examined my legs, tested my reflexes and feelings, looked into my eyes with a small lighted instrument, and then shook his head. ”I want to see more progress the next time I visit, Annie. I want you to concentrate more on your recuperation.”
”But I am!” I protested. ”What else can I do? I have no telephone. All I can do is watch television and read. Only Tony and Drake and Rye Whiskey, the cook, have come to see me.” I couldn't keep the shrill sound out of my voice.
”I realize you're in a highly emotional state,” the doctor said softly, obviously trying to keep me calm, ”but the reason you were brought to this house was so you would have a serene environment, conducive to improvement.”