Rain

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Rain Page 32

by V. C. Andrews


  I flashed him a quick smile and approached the house. My jittery nerves made me move like a burglar, turning the doorknob softly and opening the door as if I believed Jake's joke was more a prophecy than a jest and I might open it on a battle scene. Instead, I was greeted by total silence. I entered and then stopped dead in my tracks.

  Aunt Victoria had apparently not heard the door open. She was too glued to the doorway of the living room, standing just outside. It was clear what she was doing: she was eavesdropping on Grandmother Hudson and my mother. I was afraid to move, afraid to reveal my presence and my knowledge of her sneaky behavior. For a long moment, I held my breath and didn't take a step. When I finally did, the floor board creaked and Victoria's head nearly made a full turn. Her eyes were wide and her mouth grotesquely twisted. Before I could speak, she entered the living room with a loud, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to see Mother today, Megan?"

  I let out my hot breath and debated going directly to my room or greeting everyone.

  Grandmother Hudson would know I had come home and not been polite, I thought. I really had no choice but to go to the living room doorway and poke my head in for a quick hello.

  My mother and Grandmother Hudson were seated on the sofa. Victoria had just sat on the settee across from them and the three of them looked up at me.

  "Hello, Mrs. Randolph," I said. Victoria's lips went into a tight, cold smile. I nodded at her and said, "Ms. Hudson," emphasizing the "Ms" part just the way Grandmother Hudson often did.

  "Is everything all right?" my grandmother asked with one of her scrutinizing gazes.

  "Yes. I've just got to get right to my school work. They always pile it on toward the end of the year," I said.

  "Maybe you're just not capable of doing as much as you think," Victoria commented. Her eyes narrowed. "It's wiser to face up to your limitations."

  "How would she know her limitations? She's never been given any opportunities." Grandmother Hudson said. "I' m surprised hearing such a remark from you, Victoria. I thought you believe women are capable of anything men can do."

  "Most women," she muttered.

  "I'm running an A average in all my subjects," I said with hot tears under my eyelids. "So far, I haven't broken any speed limits."

  Grandmother Hudson's eyes filled with glee. My mother tilted her head with a tiny smile and Victoria looked away quickly. I left them and went up the stairs to begin my work. Teachers were the same everywhere, I thought. They suddenly realized the school year was ending and they had fallen behind on their objectives, so they assigned even more homework.

  I worked, but I expected to hear my mother's footsteps in the hall and then the knock on the door at any time. I had left it slightly open. She surely had come down here to bawl me out for permitting Brody to plan a trip to see me. My biggest worry was what Victoria had heard during her eavesdropping and what would result?

  After an agonizing twenty-five minutes, the silence in the house was broken by loud voices coming from the entryway. Now curious and becoming the eavesdropper myself, I rose from my chair and went to the door. I could only make out a word or two, so I went to the top of the stairway. The front door was open and my mother and Victoria were standing on the portico shouting at each other.

  "Why should we have to bear the cost of your sins, Megan? Why should you dump your mistakes on our doorsteps? How dare you take advantage of Mother like this?"

  "I'm not taking advantage of her and I'm not dumping anything on your doorstep, Victoria."

  "Somehow, that...that illegitimate child has wormed her way into Mother's last will and testament. What Mother gives her, she takes from me and I won't stand for it. If anyone is to leave her anything, it should be you and you alone. If you don't get those changes out of the document, I'll call Grant."

  "You're so spiteful, Victoria. You've always been cruel to me and I don't know what I've ever done to you to deserve it," my mother wailed back at her.

  Victoria laughed a chilling cold laugh. I took a few steps and sat down on the stairway.

  "You don't know?" she spit at my mother. "Of course, that's always been the face you've worn. Innocent, precious little Megan doesn't understand what she's doing. She can't be blamed for anything. She's too perfect. We always have to forgive Megan or cover up for Megan's mistakes. We're still doing it!"

  "I've never asked you to do anything for me," my mother said.

  "No, of course not. It's not your style to ask, Megan. You just screw up and then come around with your big, innocent eyes. Father was always giving in to you. I had to make up for anything I wasted or anything I failed to do, but not Megan, oh no, not little Megan.

  "Well, Father's gone and I'm the one who runs the business now. I'm not covering up your disgusting sexual blunders, and with a black man, too. How dare you bring that girl into this house and permit her to be a part of this family and our business? Haven't you any pride at all? I don't understand how you do these things with a husband as devoted as Grant is to you, and what about his goals and his career? Don't you realize what you are risking or don't you even care about him?"

  "You're twisting everything and making it look uglier than it is, Victoria, and since when is Grant's career so important to you?"

  They were both silent for a moment, glaring at each other. I could see my mother's face take on a cold smile too suddenly.

  "You're jealous, aren't you, Victoria? You've always been jealous of me and Grant."

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Is it?"

  "Think what you like, only remember what I'm saying to you, Megan. If Mother doesn't take that girl's name out of her will soon, I'll expose you. That's a promise," she vowed and marched down the steps.

  My mother stood there watching her get into her vehicle and then she turned and with her head down, reentered the house. I stood and she looked up at me.

  "You heard all that?" she asked.

  "Most of it, I guess. Where's Grandmother?"

  "She's in the office, thank God. She would surely have a heart attack if she had heard that venom spill out of my sister's mouth."

  "What are you going to do?" I asked. "I don't know."

  "Should I leave? I can go to Mama."

  "Of course not," she said. "It's just that I'm worried about Brody. He talked a great deal about you on the way home from our last visit; he was very taken with you. He thinks you're fresh and honest and someone special. I was trapped. I couldn't disagree with him, but I couldn't join in his lavish praise. Now he's determined to come down to see your play performance. He called Mother to tell her he was coming and she called me. She's worried about it, too."

  "Maybe you should tell him the truth, then," I said. She shook her head.

  "I just can't do that yet."

  "You can keep the secret forever and ever?"

  She looked up at me and then gazed toward the door. "Not if Victoria has her way."

  "Just get Grandmother to take me out of the will," I suggested.

  "If my mother even imagined that Victoria was blackmailing us, she would take her and me and everyone else out of the will and leave everything to you just for spite," my mother said with a nod and a smile. "I've got to think of something else."

  "Mama used to tell us that lies are like rabbits: they beget offspring so fast, they'll make your head spin and before long, you won't remember which lie started it all."

  "She's right, of course, but for now ..."

  How I hated that expression: for now It was simply another way to bury your head in the sand, I thought.

  She straightened up and looked as firm as Grandmother Hudson did most of the time.

  "I'm going to say things to Brody that I don't really believe, Rain, but please remember that I'm trying to discourage him," she said.

  "What sort of things?"

  "Nasty-things... about you," she added.

  "What if he doesn't believe you?"

  "He will. Just be understanding, all right?" she pleade
d.

  I looked away. Wasn't there any other solution? It was unfair for me to have to be the one bearing the blame and the sin. Then I thought, why was it suddenly so important to me what Brody thought of me anyway? My mother was right. He would just go off to college and never think of me again. Everyone's precious little world of deceit would be protected.

  "Do what you want," I said, turned and marched back up the stairs.

  "Rain ..." she called.

  I turned at the top of the stairway.

  "I'm sorry. I really hoped you would have nothing but happiness here."

  "Why should I?" I asked. "You didn't."

  She looked at me with such surprise and awe for a moment, and then she nodded softly, turned and headed into the house to talk to Grandmother Hudson before leaving for home.

  It wasn't until a day before the play that I decided I had better reserve a seat for Brody as well as for Grandmother Hudson. Even though I didn't hear from him since my mother's visit, I didn't want him to be embarrassed if he did come. Grandmother Hudson surprised me one morning by telling me Jake would be accompanying her to the play and not just driving, so I had to have three seats reserved.

  "He has taken a liking to you," she confessed, "and it would be stupid for him to drive us there and wait outside?'

  It was as if she had to explain and justify his attendance.

  "I'm glad," I said, "but I just don't want everyone to be disappointed. Don't expect too much. It's my first play and I'm so nervous, I don't know if I'll remember my lines."

  "Stop that," she snapped at me. "You sound like your mother, making excuses before she even tries. I don't want to hear that. I want to hear confidence. Believe in yourself and let everyone know you do," she commanded. "Who on that stage is better than you?"

  "No one," I replied angrily.

  "Precisely my point. You will not do poorly and don't let anyone make you think otherwise."

  She said it with such power, I wondered if she could stop the rain.

  I smiled at her.

  "Okay," I said.

  "Good. Now let's not talk about it anymore. If you dwell too long on something, it does seem more like an impossible task. Just walk in there and do what has to be done. Sissy," she said turning to the new maid, "what have you done to my roast chicken?"

  "Ma'am?"

  "It's absolutely delicious. Whatever you did, do it again," she said.

  Sissy's eyebrows rose and she looked at me with a little smile on her face.

  "I will try, ma'am. That I will do." She winked and went into the kitchen.

  As the countdown to the performance continued, Corbette continually reminded me in little ways and with little remarks of my promise to celebrate afterward with him.

  "I'm cleaning the place up," he told me. "It'll be our special night."

  "Won't your parents want to do something with you after the play?" I asked.

  He grimaced.

  "My parents won't be here. They have an engagement they can't get out of," he said.

  "They won't be at the play?"

  "They've only been to one that I've been in," he revealed. "It's all right. I'm not doing it for them. I'm doing it for myself."

  He did seem like a tenant in his own home. I didn't know if he had intended to win me over with pity or not, but he was certainly doing a good job of it. He was as nice to me as could be, too, often taking blame for any mistakes made between us. When I looked at the other girls to see what they were thinking about us, I thought they looked pleased. Most had become friendlier and in fact, Maureen looked like she was alone in her skepticism and criticism of Mr. Bufurd casting me as Emily. Audrey, of course, thought I was great, and after dress rehearsal, most of the cast congratulated me on my performance. I was beginning to fill up with that confidence Grandmother Hudson demanded.

  Since I hadn't heard from Brody all week, I assumed my mother had accomplished what she had set out to do: discourage him about me. Grandmother Hudson didn't mention his coming either. I breathed relief, but I couldn't help a tang of regret slipping into my thoughts. I really did like Brody and wished we could be friends, actually more than friends, a real brother and sister. I would surely be a better sister to him than Alison was. But then again, almost any girl would be, I thought.

  The day of the play, all my teachers wished me luck and promised they would be at the performance. So many people were talking about it, I couldn't help but have a stomach filled with butterflies. Their delicate wings tickled the inside of me all day and made it impossible to eat, to concentrate, to even sit still. I was a total wreck by the day's end and when Jake brought me home, I went upstairs immediately and threw myself on the bed, burying my face in the pillow and vowing never to leave the room.

  It was at a time like this when I needed to hear Mama's voice the most, so I went to the phone and called Aunt Sylvia's again. Again, the phone rang and rang and no one picked up. Where were they? If they were going on a trip, Mama should have told me, I thought. Why hadn't Roy tried to call me again? It was so frustrating not knowing how to reach him. The tension, the excitement, all the pressure and worry made me feel as limp as a busted balloon.

  I decided to soak in a hot tub and try to relax and not think about anything but my first line in the play. After that, it would either all roll off my tongue or get stuck in my throat and quickly end my career in the theater.

  After the applause, I remember thinking maybe Grandmother Hudson had been right about me. Maybe I didn't know my own capabilities because I had never been given the opportunity. I shook so much when I walked out on that stage for the first time with an audience present that I thought my chattering teeth would distort all my words and bring the roof down with the audience's thunderous laughter.

  Instead, something entirely unexpected happened to me. I felt as if I had really fallen into another place and another time. My Emily Webb persona seized my very body and soul. The sound of my own voice was even different to me, and when I moved, I moved with the innocence and grace Mr. Bufurd had envisioned. What helped was not really being able to see much of the audience. The lights created a wall of illumination that washed out faces. It was almost as if I was alone, practicing the lines in front of my mirror.

  And when Corbette and I looked at each other and spoke to each other, I didn't see him as Corbette either. He and I bounced off each other's

  performances, each of us reaching higher and higher to match the other for sincerity, credibility and dramatic impact.

  When Corbette knelt at my grave and spoke his lines, I felt the tears build in my eyes, and when I did my famous good-bye speech and looked at him standing in the wings, I saw the amazement and

  appreciation in his eyes. I felt as if the effort couldn't be stopped. I was flying, reaching for the stars. The applause after the stage manager's final lines was thunderous, and when we came out for our bows, the audience rose to its feet.

  I couldn't stop myself from crying. Suddenly, someone ran to the stage and thrust a bouquet of beautiful red roses up at me. I looked down and for a moment was unable to move.

  "It's for you," Corbette shouted over the continuous ovation.

  I stepped forward.

  Brody was holding the flowers up, his face enveloped in glee. He had been there after all.

  "Thank you," I said and took them quickly.

  When the curtain came down, everyone in the cast and crew let out a nearly simultaneous roar. Corbette embraced me in the dim light and kissed my cheek.

  "You were fabulous," he whispered. "It's our night!"

  I was spun around by the adulation. Mr. Bufurd looked so proud. I thought his face seemed positively luminous. Other cast members and stage crew members waited for their opportunity to squeeze my hand or hug me. Even Maureen had to choke on her words of approval.

  People began to stream backstage. I wanted to get the make-up off, but my teachers and other people in the audience kept me busy accepting their accolades. I saw Jake, Brody a
nd Grandmother Hudson talking to people in the wings and made my way toward them.

  "Some terrible play," Brody said with a smirk and then a smile. "This made the one at our school look like a joke. You were fantastic. I'm impressed and I'm glad I decided to come," he said quickly.

  He held onto my hand and looked into my face so intently, I couldn't just push him away. I had to smile and thank him even though I saw Grandmother Hudson watching us with concern darkening her eyes. Fortunately, Jake interrupted us.

  "I have to get Mrs. Hudson home," he said. "You were great, princess. Proud of you," he said.

  "Thank you, Jake."

  I hurried over to Grandmother Hudson.

  "Very nicely done, Rain," she said. "It's difficult to believe this was your first time on the stage. I'd like you to meet Conor MacWaine," she added nodding at the tall, thin gentleman with auburn hair beside her. He wore a tweed jacket and cravat. "Mr. MacWaine is a drama instructor from London, a friend of my sister Leonora."

  "A very impressive premier," he told me. "Thank you."

  "Don't stay out too late," Grandmother Hudson warned. The small tight smile on her lips and the gleam in her eye told me she was very proud.

  "So where is this cast party?" Brody asked quickly.

  "It's at someone's home," I said. "I really can't invite people. I'm sorry," I said quickly.

  His eyes turned bleak so quickly, I felt a shaft of pain in my chest.

  Corbette was at my side, slipping his hand into mine.

  "Let's get out of here," he said loud enough for Brody to hear.

  Brody and he gazed at each other for a moment.

  "I see why you can't invite anyone," Brody said with a cold smile.

  "I told you not to come," I replied, feeling just terrible. Corbette tugged at me.

  "I'll see you at the house," I offered as we retreated. Brody just gazed after us looking shattered.

  "Who was that?" Corbette asked as we hurried toward the rear entrance of the theater.

  "Mrs. Hudson's grandson," I said.

  "He's the one who gave you the roses." "Yes."

  "I've got roses for you too," Corbette said. We got into his convertible.

 

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