SECRET WHISPERS

by VC. ANDREWS®

  He kissed me and then scooped me up in his arms and carried me up the stairway like Clark Gable in Gone With the Wind. At the top, he turned toward our bedrooms, and I stopped him.

  “No,” I said.

  “No?”

  “Turn left,” I ordered.

  He knew what I was thinking and had that frightened look that had flashed on his face when he had first set eyes on me dressed like Lucille, my hair like Lucille’s, and wearing her jewelry and perfume.

  “Really?”

  “It’s ours, isn’t it? We’re the master and mistress of Heaven-stone.”

  He smiled and slowly brought me to Daddy and Lucille’s bedroom. For a long moment, he paused in the doorway with me still in his arms and gazed at their grand king-size bed with the new headboard Lucille had designed. The Heaven-stone corporate logo had been embossed at the center. The four posts nearly touched the ceiling. Surely no king or queen slept in anything more impressive.

  I lifted my head to bring my lips to his. We kissed, and then he smiled and without delay carried me into the room and gently placed me on the bed. Never shifting his eyes from mine even for a moment, he began to undress me and then himself. Before he embraced me again, he kissed me on the tip of my nose and whispered, “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Heaven-stone.”

  When I looked into the nearly wall-size mirror on my right, I saw Cassie. There were two small flames where her eyes should be. Her lips looked painted in blood, and the strain in her neck brought her veins up against her skin, making them look like exposed tree roots.

  Of course, she would be enraged, I thought. I was where she had dreamed of being. It didn’t matter that Ethan wasn’t really Daddy. I was in his bed making love, and she was on a long, invisible leash with the other end firmly tied to her coffin, smothered in darkness.

  It’s your punishment, I thought.

  She had no answer, but I knew her silence wasn’t any sort of surrender.

  Someday, somehow, she would find the key to her revenge and open the door to more pain for the Heaven-stones.

  Honeymoon’s Over

  ETHAN AND I so enjoyed role-playing mistress and master of Heaven-stone that we continued it on and off during the rest of Daddy and Lucille’s honeymoon. They called twice, more to check on me than anything else. I suspected Lucille spoke often to Ethan at work. He went in every day, even on Sunday, just the way Daddy often would. I kept busy with my reading, exercise, and some shopping. A few times, Mrs. Dobson and Doris caught Ethan and me imitating Daddy and Lucille. I saw them smiling and hiding giggles, but neither said anything.

  Almost every evening, Ethan and I went for a swim before dinner. It was that special time of day when the sunlight is still warm but not oppressive, when shadows are as refreshing as cool lemonade, and when everything in nature seems content. More often than not, we drew the curiosity of birds perched so still on branches or the roof of the cabana that they looked stuffed. We swam, embraced, kissed, and dozed off next to each other until either he or I would get hungry. Twice the first week, we went out to dinner, and Uncle Perry kept his word and came to dinner toward the end of that week.

  Sometimes in the evening, we watched movies in the entertainment center, curling up like an old married couple, our blood not raging and passionate but quiet. Our hearts were content, and I know that I felt safer than ever. Oh, we did make love everywhere on the property, even out at the pool late at night, and we had what anyone would easily call our own special honeymoon.

  On cloudy or rainy days, I would wait for him in the living room like some dutiful wife, anxiously looking forward to the sound of his footsteps and the wave of excitement and energy that entered with him.

  “And how was your day?” he would ask playfully. Before I could respond, he would begin to review his own, bringing home stories about the store and some of the employees. I quickly saw that he wasn’t fond of Richard Erickson. He thought the man wasn’t creative enough and wasn’t getting the most out of our employees. I listened politely to all of that, but he could see soon enough that the business talk bored me. In that regard, I could never imitate Lucille. I was much more like my mother.

  One night, I woke up, realized he wasn’t in bed or even in the room, and went looking for him. I found him in Daddy’s office, working away on the computer, and asked him what he was doing. I had the sense that this wasn’t the first time he had risen in the middle of the night and gone down to Daddy’s office to work.

  “I’m finishing up a report,” he said.

  “What report?”

  He shifted his eyes as if he was reluctant to tell me and waved away my curiosity. “Just business.”

  I wouldn’t be ignored. “What business could possibly cause you to wake up in the middle of the night and come down here, Ethan?”

  “Sometimes I remember things when I’m sleeping, and I’m afraid I might forget them, that’s all.”

  “Like what? What are you doing?” I persisted.

  “It’s a report I promised Lucille,” he finally confessed. “Sort of an efficiency report. All businesses should do it periodically if they are to be well run.”

  “So, you’re like Lucille’s spy right now? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that, Semantha. It’s not for a competitor. It’s our own internal evaluation.”

  “You haven’t been here long enough to be doing that, Ethan.”

  I could see my comment cut him deeply, but I couldn’t help resenting the fact that a promise to Lucille was more important than being with me, even if I was asleep.

  “Lucille feels I can do it,” he replied, as if that was all that needed to be said about it.

  “Only my father knows who can and cannot do such a thing,” I insisted.

  “Well, he must know about it if she asked me to do it, don’t you think, Semantha?”

  “Maybe.”

  “It’s not a big deal. Don’t be so upset. Why would you be so upset, anyway?” He rose and came to me. He took my hands into his and smiled. “C’mon, don’t ruin a perfectly wonderful secret honeymoon.”

  “You wouldn’t work on your honeymoon, would you?” I countered.

  His smile faded. “All right. I’ll shut down the computer and come up.”

  “Do what you want,” I said, pulling my hands from his and leaving Daddy’s office.

  He was up and beside me minutes later, kissing me and rambling on and on with one sort of apology after another. Finally, to get some sleep myself, I told him I wasn’t upset, just surprised. I’d be fine. He accepted that and went to sleep himself, but it left me with an uneasy feeling. There were new currents running under Heaven-stone. I could hear the rumbling, and it kept me awake almost until the morning.

  I forgot all of this until the day Daddy and Lucille returned. Ethan didn’t do any more work at home the remainder of the time, and the fun we had been having returned. We had just finished dinner when they burst in, both of them with armfuls of gifts for both Ethan and myself. I was surprised that Daddy had not bought anything for Mrs. Dobson and Doris. Before, whenever he returned from a trip bearing gifts, there had always been something for them.

  Even though their trip sounded wonderful, we could see how happy they both were to have returned. While Daddy, Ethan, and I sat in the den and listened to his summary of the trip, Lucille went about the mansion and even checked on things outside. Daddy remarked that holding her down was like trying to lasso a comet.

  “She dragged me into every department store in every port so we could see how things were being run in different places. At times, I thought we were on a business trip, but that’s my Lucille.”

  My Lucille, I thought. Every new expression, every time he referred to her, made me wince. Not her time here before, or the wedding, or the honeymoon had driven it home as much as Daddy’s including her in most references to himself. They were now truly one, and she was beyond any doubt firmly and completely Mrs. Heaven-stone, my stepmother.
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  Neither Ethan nor I had any hint as to what Lucille had been doing or had seen during her tour of the house or the grounds. She said nothing when she returned to the den. She was more interested in what I had been doing, how I had spent my time.

  “I’ll hear about what Ethan’s been doing tomorrow,” she said, and turned her attention to me.

  It didn’t take me long to finish my account of our days. Without comment, she declared that she was tired and did, after all, have a big day back at work tomorrow. She reminded us about the Citizen of the Year award dinner on the weekend and then yawned and stretched. It was a signal to Daddy as well, who rose to go up with her.

  Ethan said it was time for him to get to sleep as well. It was as if whatever Lucille decided, she decided for everyone, except me, of course. I was a little tired, but, perhaps to show my independence more than anything, I remained downstairs for another hour watching television. When I went up later and saw that the lights were low and the house was quiet, I realized our little pretend honeymoon was over and the new regime had begun. I expected some changes would take place, but I had no inkling of how deep and how dramatic those changes would be.

  I didn’t go down to breakfast with everyone. Ethan came by to tell me he was leaving and was going in with Lucille in her car. He made it sound as if that was some sort of honor.

  “Then you won’t be back until she comes home today?”

  “Yes,” he said, looking as if that fact had just occurred to him, too. “Unless your father starts back earlier, which I doubt,” he quickly added. “See you later.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips and hurried away.

  The realization that I would be spending most of my time alone now settled in when I finally did go down for breakfast. Doris had already gone upstairs to clean and restore Daddy and Lucille’s bedroom as well as Ethan’s. Mrs. Dobson tried to spend time with me, but she had her duties to perform as well and looked more concerned about them than ever.

  I pondered my future when I went out to the pool and sat on a chaise. Maybe Ethan was right. Maybe I should enroll in a nearby college, or maybe Uncle Perry was right, and I should go to work in his office. Daddy certainly didn’t pressure me to do anything. I could see the concern in his face when I described how uneventful and simple all that I had been doing was, but I could also see that he was afraid of stirring up some sleeping mental problem that would send me rushing back to Dr. Ryan for therapy. More than once, I had heard him tell Lucille, “She’ll find herself.”

  Was I really lost? Where does one begin looking for herself? I had often sat looking at family albums, searching for some clue in my younger face. Sometimes all of us looked like strangers, I thought. Even I looked like a stranger to myself. Mother had used to say she got her identity by being the other half of her marriage and running Heaven-stone. She had had great responsibility, but she had loved who and what she was. It identified her. Other women might be identified by their careers, she had said, but she was confident that most weren’t as content.

  I tried to develop an interest in some sort of career, breezing through descriptions of professions and jobs in a book I suspected Lucille had left lying around for just that purpose. Nothing filled me with any passion or enthusiasm. Maybe that was what Daddy meant by my being lost. I simply didn’t care which road I took or where it would lead.

  The only place my mind continually directed me was to my cousin’s home and my daughter. How, if ever, would I meet her? If I projected myself and her twenty years ahead, would that be when she would learn who I was? Would she have any interest in me then? Would she be angry that she had never been told the truth? Would she think her adopted parents would be terribly hurt if she showed the slightest interest in me? All of it played continuously in my mind, but lately, it was more intense. I was tempted to drive back to the Normans’ ranch and once again try to see my daughter.

  By mid-afternoon, I was feeling terribly sorry for myself, so much so that I almost missed the sound of someone crying when I returned to the house to change and have some lunch. I paused and listened. It was coming from the kitchen. I went to the door and listened harder. I could hear Mrs. Dobson trying to calm Doris. What terrible thing had happened in her family? I knocked so they would know I was there and entered. Both were sitting at the kitchenette and looked up, surprised. Both had been crying.

  “What’s wrong, Mrs. Dobson?” I asked. She looked at Doris and then back at me. “What is it?”

  “Mrs. Heaven-stone just informed us we’re terminated.”

  “Terminated? You mean . . . fired?”

  She nodded. “We’re being given two months’ salary, but we have to leave today.”

  “That can’t be so,” I said.

  “A messenger from the store just delivered this.”

  She pushed an envelope on the table in my direction. I stepped forward and pulled the letter out. It was on official Heaven-stone stationery. It did not offer any reason for the termination. It merely said, “Your services will no longer be required.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “I had no idea.”

  “Neither did we,” Doris said. “Two months’ salary is fine, but it’s not going to be easy or even possible to get a job as good as this one. And what did we do to deserve this?” she cried, holding her arms up.

  “Now, now,” Mrs. Dobson said. “There’s no point in getting yourself sick over it.”

  Doris looked down.

  “I’m calling my father,” I said. “You just wait.”

  Mrs. Dobson smiled at me as if I were talking about going to Mars.

  “I am!” I insisted, and hurried out of the kitchen and down to Daddy’s office.

  At first, his secretary told me to call back, but I shouted at her that I had to speak with him right now. I was sure they all knew that I had once been in serious therapy. She mumbled and told me to hold on. Moments later, Daddy was on the phone. Through my tears, I told him what Lucille had done and how terrible it was. He was silent.

  “She can’t do this, Daddy!” I cried when he didn’t respond the way I had expected he would.

  “Lucille is now in charge of the house, Semantha. You know that I was never really in charge of how the house was run. Your mother handled all that, and now Lucille is the one who does it. She thinks it’s best to start fresh. You should understand how she might feel about it. She wants her own stamp on things. We can’t deny her that, now, can we?”

  “But Mrs. Dobson and Doris have done a wonderful job with Heaven-stone. You’ve said so yourself many times.”

  “They have, but Lucille wants to do more. She wants us to have a Cordon Bleu chef, and she wants more than one housemaid. She felt Heaven-stone wasn’t maintained as well as she would have liked while we were away. Now, this is her bailiwick, Semantha, not mine and not yours. I’m making sure both Mrs. Dobson and Doris get excellent recommendations.”

  “Don’t let her do this, Daddy,” I pleaded.

  “Please be grown-up now, Semantha,” he said gruffly. “You shouldn’t be focusing on the hired help, anyway. You should be thinking about your own future. I have to get back to my meeting. Don’t do anything that would make me ashamed of you,” he warned. “I don’t want Lucille upset, especially so soon after our wedding. Is that clear? Is it?”

  “Crystal,” I said, and hung up. For a few moments, I sat there feeling numb. I decided to call Ethan. As soon as he was brought to the phone, I rattled it off, again through my tears.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it,” he said.

  “Can’t you talk to her, tell her how wonderful they’ve been while she and Daddy were away?”

  “I doubt that would do any good, Semantha. Besides, she might resent my putting my nose in places it doesn’t belong. I’m a guest at the house, remember?”

  His reluctance and acceptance moved me quickly from sadness to anger.

  “You’re afraid of her, aren’t you? You’re afraid of challenging any decision she makes.”
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br />   “Don’t be silly. It’s not a matter of my being afraid. It’s not my business. I’m an employee here, that’s all.”

  “I thought you were more,” I said.

  He was quiet a moment. “I am more,” he replied. “All right. I’ll tell her how upset you are and see what she says. How’s that?”

  I thought about Daddy’s warning. Maybe I would get Ethan into trouble. She had fired Mrs. Dobson and Doris so easily and so quickly. She could certainly do the same to him.

  “Forget about it,” I said. “My father’s the only one who could change this, anyway, and he won’t.”

  “That’s true.”

  There was something in the tone of his voice that stirred another suspicion. How did he know my father wouldn’t object to Lucille’s action?

  “Did she tell you she was going to fire them? Did you know?”

  “No, of course not,” he said quickly. “That’s my point. It has nothing to do with me. This is the first I’ve heard about it.”

  “Well, I think it’s mean,” I said, and hung up.

  I hated returning to the kitchen to tell them I had failed. Neither looked surprised, but both were grateful I had tried. I sulked in the living room while they packed their things. Later, when I heard them coming down the hallway, I rushed out. They had ordered a taxi, and it had arrived. Before I could say anything, tears streamed down my face.

  “Now, now, Miss Semantha,” Mrs. Dobson said. “You don’t worry yourself about us. Doris will find suitable new employment, and it’s probably time I returned to England anyway. I have some relatives I’d like to see before they or I cash in our chips, as your daddy would say.”

  I hugged them both, holding on to Mrs. Dobson a little longer.

  “I’ll write to you,” she said. “And you write back and tell me how you’re doing, okay?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Cheers,” she said in the doorway.

  The taxi driver came up to help them with their luggage. I watched as he put it all in the trunk. Doris, looking small and devastated, waved and got in first. Mrs. Dobson turned to me.