But Jade had gone on, just as the Academy would go on.
Had Theodora ever wondered about her daughter? Theodora lived in the present as nobody Annabel had ever met. She lived in the news of the moment. Today’s conflict, today’s argument, today’s leaders, today’s stars. Yesterday was unimaginably boring, tomorrow couldn’t be reported until it came.
It came, Theodora, thought Annabel. Tomorrow is here.
Jade moved on down the row of closets, and her father murmured low, just for Annabel, “I always felt guilty, you know. I never told your mother. Eleanor would never have understood the choice to give a baby up. Theodora didn’t want anybody to give her a hard time. Your mother would never have let go of the subject. Theodora and I, though, we let it go. We never talked about it afterward. I never talked about it to Mrs. Donavan, either. But I always wondered. I think I knew this day would come. I think I hoped it would.”
Annabel was touched. Her father had kept his sister’s secret. But in his heart, he had continued to ponder the fate of a little niece.
Mrs. Donavan’s voice came sharply over the intercom. “Annabel?” She sounded large even on the intercom, her big overweight voice lurching through the wires. “Telephone, Annabel. Private line.”
Annabel thought how much the newspapers would have paid Mrs. Donavan to betray this secret. She wondered if Jade herself would betray it; if Jade understood how badly the fan-struck world would like a juicy little detail from Theodora Jayquith’s youth.
Telephone. Private line. It was probably Emmie. But it might be Daniel. Annabel rested her fingertips on the tiny white instrument. She did not pick up. “Excuse me,” she said courteously, hoping Jade would take a hint and leave.
“Jade,” said Hollings, “I’ll show you to the Peach Room. It’s on the lower level, one hall from Annabel. When you wake up in the morning, you just run on over here and get Annabel up. Then we’ll all have breakfast.”
When do I tell him about his murder charge? thought Annabel. Over cantaloupe? As we butter the croissants?
Don’t bother me with your little crushes, Annabel.
“Annabel?” repeated Mrs. Donavan. “Are you going to pick up or shall I tell the gentleman to call tomorrow?”
Down the hallway, Annabel heard her father and Jade enter the Peach Room. She shut her own door and actually rested her spine on it for a moment. The relief of being alone was tremendous. “I’m getting it now, Mrs. Donavan.” She picked up the phone, “Hello?”
“Annabel, it’s Daniel.”
Her heart expanded to fill the entire suite, like a great bright silk balloon. Daniel! Oh, there had to be a way! She would talk him out of it! She would convince him of—well, who knew what, but she would.
“Annabel, is there any chance we could meet tomorrow?”
True love does triumph. He wants me. He needs me. He’ll put away his accusation. I’ll save Daddy. I’ll have Daniel after all.
Theodora, Jade, and her father could deal with painful ancient history without her.
Daniel.
“Just tell me where,” said Annabel Jayquith.
Mr. Jayquith did not actually give Jade an embrace, but he lifted his arms slightly, as if he had thought about it. “Good night,” he said hesitantly. She knew he could not hesitate over much in his life, this man who controlled an empire. I, Jade O’Keeffe, I have shaken him up, she thought gleefully. And tomorrow, I will shake up Theodora Jayquith! “Good night,” she said firmly.
The door closed between them.
Yes! thought Jade. Yes! Yes! Yes! She felt like a gold medalist in the Olympics, the national anthem playing behind her, the crowds going wild.
She did a cheer, complete with airborne splits and circling arms.
I will have this. I will have all this. I will always have all this.
Coming down from her cheer, she narrowly missed a tiny table that held an equally tiny, peach-colored phone. She could have lived here a week and not noticed it. Jade stopped spinning, and stood thoughtfully. Mrs. Donavan … phone call …
Jade needed all the ammunition she could get. She lifted the receiver and listened.
Emmie’s heart was a crystal goblet, smashing on the tiles that wrapped the swimming pool. All the undeserving world, her difficult sister Venice included, found love. But not Emmie.
Annabel and I joked, thought Emmie. We said, Sure, if he wants you for your money, who cares? Pay him.
He wants me for my money. And I care.
He lied to get in here! And I care.
He crashed the wedding. His I.D. is for some little northern New York community college. His name isn’t Alex Scott. It’s the other way around: Scott Alexander.
The boy in question vaulted out of the pool. Water ran down his beautiful body. He flung his hair back and bounded over like a wet, excited collie. “Come on in, Emmie. The water’s great. I’ve lost three races now. Your friends are Olympic swimmers.” He flung an arm around her, hugging her so hard her ribs ached. Her half-dry bathing suit pressed against his dripping trunks. He kissed her throat, and without warning, tipped them both backward into the pool. Emmie was molded against his body and then she was underwater. They nearly touched bottom with the force of their fall, and then lightly popped up to the surface.
They surfaced. Water sparkled like frost in his hair. How honest and open and handsome his grin was!
But he was only handsome. Not honest and open.
“So, Emmie,” said the boy who was here on false pretenses. “Do we have a date tomorrow?”
Her heart pounded. Was he after money? Was he dangerous? Was he sane?
But if she confronted him and threw him out, she would be alone.
Was it better to be lonely?
Or to have “Alex” and pretend he was real?
Ten
DANIEL WANTED TO MEET at Tanglewood, where the Boston Symphony Orchestra played outdoors during the summer. A “shed” seated 6,000, but 10,000 more could buy lawn tickets. Annabel had often gone to Tanglewood, but never to sit on the lawn. It looked like such fun, a picnic with ten thousand other people, laughing and lounging on the soft grass beneath the loveliest trees outside of poetry.
Nevertheless Annabel would have preferred privacy. You could not be private in a crowd if you were Daniel Madison Ransom. “How will we talk?” she said reasonably. “Ten thousand people will recognize you.” What’s he wearing? she thought. Where is he calling from? Wait until tomorrow? Impossible.
“Clearly, you don’t wear sunglasses. I do. The full wrap variety. And a cap—British driving type. Plus hot-pink shorts and a white-and-orange-striped T-shirt.”
“Ouch,” said Annabel. “Will you look weird?”
“You bet. You’ll know me, though, and nobody else will. Our cook will pack a picnic. I’ll have folding chairs and a blanket. We’ll be lawn listeners. We’ll blend. People will think we’re dull and ordinary.”
“Where will I meet you?”
“Front gate. Two o’clock.”
She said good-bye, and when his voice vanished, she actually kissed the receiver. She couldn’t even laugh at herself. She and Daniel would have their own orchestra, and her heart would dance. They would lie on their backs on a soft blanket, staring through green leaves at a blue sky; they would talk about each other and sort everything out.
The ten-year-old murder would stay in the past, where it belonged. History. History never vanishes. You think you have closed the book. But history returns. Well, Daddy would be proved wrong. Annabel would close the book on Senator Ransom. She and Daniel would make their own history.
Guiltily, she tried to concern herself with Jade, Theodora, and the confrontation to come. But she was in love. Even a sudden cousin meant nothing. When she awoke in the morning, Annabel could not even remember what Jade looked like.
Again today there would be no grave-visit. There was hardly even room in Annabel’s mind to whisper Mama! and she was back in daydreams of Daniel.
Four times she
changed her entire outfit, from shoes to earrings. She had to look casual, but symphonic. Grass-stainable, but romantic. She must blend in, but stand out. Even with a wardrobe the size of Annabel’s, these were heavy demands.
Annabel’s heart flung itself toward Daniel. She saw the road curving north, her black Jag purring past stone walls and pastures of black-eyed Susans. Her plans swept past Tanglewood, flew through summer, took herself through college and Daniel through law school. Theirs would be a world-class romance. She even decided on the wedding. She would commission music. They’d have their very own march, their very own love song. Every rock star whose music she’d memorized would be there. She’d rent a stadium, and hers would be a dance to rock the nation.
Daniel Madison Ransom was worth it.
Annabel could not take the smile off her face. It was as if she had a whole new face, anyway. New curves, new hopes, new loves. “I’ll be back around suppertime, I think, Daddy,” she said. “It might be later, though. Don’t worry about me.” She closed her fingers around the car keys. She would leave now, no matter how early she arrived in Tanglewood. The thing was to be there, closer to the dream.
“You’re not going,” said her father.
Not going? The smile on her face folded up like a bed into a sofa. “Of course I’m going!”
“Annabel, don’t be ridiculous. Theodora is arriving to meet Jade.”
“But Daddy—”
“You’re not going.”
“Daddy, this is important.”
“Annabel, family matters more. What can you be thinking of? Cancel it.”
“Daddy! This is family! You’re so wrapped up in Jade you have no idea what happened last night.”
“Nothing is important compared to the moment that Theodora meets Jade. Some boy you met at Venice’s wedding? Forget him. If you can’t forget him, meet him next week. Theodora will be here late this morning and so will you.”
“I think Aunt Theodora should meet Jade alone. I don’t think either of us should be there.”
“You’re just trying to get out of this. Your aunt needs our support.”
“Theodora never needed anybody’s support in her life,” said Annabel. “This is her daughter, not ours! We’ve already met Jade!”
“When did you get so selfish?” snapped her father. “Jade needs you, too. You’re putting a silly joyride ahead of her?”
“Jade needs me? Daddy, what is going on here? Have you even verified who she is? Do you know for sure this is Theodora’s daughter? She has two pieces of paper that any reporter could scout out if he knew where to start! What puts her needs first? I have needs here, too. Which you haven’t let me explain! What Jade actually is, is a trespasser you’d have arrested under any other circumstances!” Annabel didn’t care about Jade. She didn’t know why she was having this argument. She was burning to leave. Her beloved father was nothing but a gate blocking the way. Move, move, move! she thought.
“She is my niece,” said Hollings. “Your cousin. Theodora’s daughter. I showed Mrs. Donavan the photograph. She remembers the nurse’s aide who walked them out of the hospital taking it.”
Jade was real. It should have meant more to Annabel, and she knew it, but all it meant was more difficulty, now, when she wanted nothing but a clear road to Daniel.
“Jade should have been able to come here by invitation,” said Hollings, “and not by lies.”
“That wouldn’t be your decision anyway!” cried Annabel. “It would be Theodora’s. Let’s not forget that Theodora gave her up for adoption eighteen years ago. Maybe Theodora wants Jade back there in Ohio.”
“In that case, you will hear it for yourself. But I think Theodora must have wondered all this time, too. I think it may be a great relief to her to discover how her daughter has turned out.”
“It won’t be a relief,” shouted Annabel. “It will be a nightmare!”
“I think Jade is sweet and needy, Annabel. I think Jade is—”
“Jade is probably a money-grubbing imposter! Daddy, you investigate your staff more thoroughly than this!”
Her father gave her a shake. It wasn’t much of one. But it was the first time ever that her father had used force on Annabel.
I am eighteen, she thought again, as if her age, like Daniel’s pennies, were a more powerful talisman. If I want to get in my car and drive to Massachusetts and meet somebody, then I will. “I have a date,” she said. “Daniel and I are going on a picnic. When I get home, Theodora will have met Jade. If she wants Jade, I assume she’ll take Jade home with her. If she doesn’t want Jade, I assume you’ll be giving Jade money and putting her on a plane for Ohio.”
“I can’t believe this,” said her father. “What is the matter with you? You have sympathy for the homeless, for alcoholics, AIDS patients, and third-world refugees. You have sympathy for whales, for God’s sake, and you don’t have sympathy for your own blood cousin?”
“I have sympathy for the woman who gave her baby up for adoption. And bringing that baby back into the family is not your choice, and not mine. It’s Theodora’s. Meanwhile, I’m meeting Daniel.”
Nobody upset Hollings Jayquith’s schedule. “Who is this Daniel that you put him ahead of my instructions? Daniel who?”
He actually expected her to cringe and buckle under, as if she were one of his accountants. And here I’m on my way to save your skin! thought Annabel. “Daniel Madison Ransom,” she told him. She loved saying it. The syllables were like melody. She couldn’t help smiling. What was she arguing for? Wait until Daddy met him! He and Daniel were so much alike that—
“What? That screwball’s kid? Annabel, I forbid you to get near that family. His father didn’t have enough brains to come in out of the rain. I never understood what drew the American public to that fool senator. His favorite word was investigate. As if Senator Ransom could tell truth from fiction. The guy was nothing but fiction himself. The only thing he was good at was parading his newest suit. Always starting some Congressional committee to ‘investigate’ something. What a joke. The man couldn’t match his socks, never mind investigate an industry.”
The world did not share that opinion.
Even Theodora did not share it.
Was Senator Ransom going to investigate you, Daddy? What would he have learned? What would I learn if I investigated?
Annabel was out of breath. There was too much happening. “Daniel,” she began carefully, “is a very interesting person.”
“I’ll bet. Brought up by a totally insane mother! He’d be interesting all right. The Ransoms became famous because one of them got killed. Period. You will not see Daniel Madison Ransom. Not now, not later.”
“Daddy! First of all—”
“Drop the subject, Annabel. Change your clothes. We’re going to have lunch out on the terrace and I want you in a skirt.”
Her knees were jelly and her heart was slam-dancing. How could he put this interloper Jade ahead of her? “I’m eighteen, Daddy. I choose my own friends.” She held up her car keys. She had things to do, and if he thought for one minute that he—
But this was Hollings Jayquith. He did think he owned the world. He even thought that he owned his daughter, too. He picked up the house phone. “Tommy? Do not open the gates. Annabel may not take the Jaguar.”
The gates that so neatly kept the world out of their country place would now keep her in!
Annabel got back to her suite without actually assaulting her father, only to find Jade right in her own sitting room. As if she lived here. As if somebody had given her permission to wander.
But perhaps somebody had.
Jade fingered Annabel’s clothing. The Theodora-copied expressions were replaced by hot gloating. Jade slid hanger after hanger down the rod, caressing linings, reading labels. “May I borrow something to wear, Annabel?”
They might have been roommates at Wythefield.
“We’re about the same size,” added Jade. “I really don’t have any clothing with me. I left my
suitcase in New York. Even if I had the suitcase I wouldn’t have the right dress for this occasion.”
Who would? thought Annabel. She could hardly bear to look at Jade. “Wear anything you like.” Who really does come first? she asked herself. Daddy? Theodora? Jade? Do I? Does blood come before love? Do I really love Daniel? Maybe it’s just a crush gone haywire. Maybe Daddy’s right. Maybe the Ransoms have nothing to offer but—
No.
Her father had not met Daniel. Her father knew nothing.
Annabel looked out her eloping window. When Emmie spent the night, she loved dreaming up elopement schemes. She thought running away was romantic. She’s right, thought Annabel. “That’s a nice choice, Jade. Why don’t you try that on in your room?”
“I don’t mind dressing in here.” Jade pirouetted in one of Annabel’s favorite outfits: a wildly colorful short skirt and bejeweled blouse.
“It’s perfect,” said Annabel. “It’s yours.”
As a bribe to get Jade to leave, it failed. “Is it out of fashion?” guessed Jade. “I’ll wear something else then.”
Daniel would be at that gate in his pink shorts and orange-striped shirt, carrying a picnic and chairs … and Annabel was going to meet him. No matter what the obstacles. She wracked her brains for a way past the gates.
“How do I look?” said Jade, with a taunting grin identical to Theodora’s. Jade had put on hot-pink shorts and a tangerine blouse.
Daniel’s colors. Jade had listened in on his phone call! For some reason that shocked Annabel as much as the idea of Theodora a mother or Hollings a murderer.
Jade laughed. Peeled off the shorts and blouse and threw them on the floor. “You wear them. You two would look so cute in matching outfits. Not that you’ll get there.” She put the jewel-studded outfit back on.
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