by Linda Ungar
Rose and Charlotte froze, momentarily stunned at the onerous condition that was placed in the way of their fortune. Rose felt anger and embarrassment that their family quarrels had become public record. She felt apprehension about leaving her own comfortable home to live in what would be an almost certain hell with Charlotte.
Charlotte was frenzied with rage, but struggled to bring herself under control. She wanted nothing to stand in the way of getting her share of the inheritance, not even this! She hated being manipulated, outwitted by Amelia’s last will. Her mind raced, thinking of escape, but the living are powerless to change the will of the dead. She was trapped.
“I suggest that you begin the visit as soon as possible.” The attorney, sensing resistance from the women, was anxious to avoid any contention that might hinder the dispatch of his duties. He pressed on, “You don’t want to delay receiving your inheritance. Would one week from today be mutually agreeable?”
Charlotte and Rose dumbly nodded their acquiescence, neither able to offer any alternative.
The day of the visit dawned gray and sultry. Ominous clouds hung low in the sky. An occasional flash of distant lightning, accompanied by low rumbles of thunder threatened to unleash a furious storm on the defenseless earth. The threat continued on into the day, never materializing, but never ceasing. The oppressive weather unnerved Charlotte and Rose, who were already dreading the prospect of being alone together for two weeks.
“It didn’t seem as big to me when I was a little girl,” said Rose, forcing herself to make conversation while she walked through the rooms of the old house with Charlotte. “I thought things were supposed to seem larger to you when you’re a child.”
“I guess all the people filled up the space. Don’t forget three children and all the help Daddy had, especially after Mother died, did make a crowd.” Charlotte peered in at the familiar rooms trying to recapture the feelings of her youth. Although she was well acquainted with her surroundings, they felt alien to her. A tomb-like quiet filled the rooms. She felt unwelcome here.
The first day of the visit moved with agonizing slowness. Charlotte and Rose tried to avoid each other whenever possible. When it wasn’t, they carefully tried to keep their tempers under control by conversing only about what was not preying on their minds.
“The garden looks a little shabby now. I wonder if we should hire a man to keep up the grounds. After all, we will have to be coming back here for the next several years.”
“She never gave a damn about the garden before,” Charlotte laughed sarcastically to herself. “She only cared about herself, how she looked, and all the men she could get, even if they didn’t belong to her. This house could have crashed down around all of us, and as long as it didn’t ruffle her hair or soil her dress, she’d have picked her way daintily over the ruins to her next conquest.”
“Yes, I suppose it does,” was all that Charlotte replied.
“Should we get someone to keep the grounds?” Rose asked again, thinking that parting with some of the inheritance would be torture for Charlotte. She was so miserly! Rose bitterly remembered back to the time when she was first married. She was expecting her daughter then, and David had been out of work. Her father, angry at her elopement, had cut her off. She was destitute. She fought back tears of humiliation as she recalled herself begging, begging her own sister for enough money to live on. Oh God, it was degrading! Charlotte had only laughed, telling her to go out and steal the money, since she never had trouble in taking what didn’t belong to her before. Charlotte was still bitterly unforgiving over Rose’s marriage to David.
Charlotte who had always loved him, had built her girlhood dreams around that love, but Rose felt no responsibility for Charlotte’s loss.
“Maybe David knows someone who could do the job. One of his employees might want some extra work.” Rose spoke quietly, never taking her eyes off Charlotte. Charlotte winced at the mention of David’s name. Rose could be brutal. She’d feign righteous indignation if anyone accused her of cruelty, but she aimed her barbs with as much skill as a matador poised for the kill, thrusting with the same deadly accuracy.
Charlotte remembered her desolation after David’s marriage, but then there was no one to whom she could have spilled out her sorrow. Daddy refused to speak about it – it only reminded him of Rose. All Amelia had been concerned about was not upsetting her father. It was only years later, when Daddy had finally forgiven them, that she could ever speak about her feelings. But by that time she was locked into an unhappy marriage, a pathetic and futile attempt to forget David. “It still hurts,” Charlotte almost sobbed aloud.
“Do whatever you want,” Charlotte turned, hiding her tears, and hurriedly left the room.
The threat of the approaching storm materialized late that night. The heavy rains continued for days, keeping Charlotte and Rose prisoners inside the walls of the aging house. A heavy shroud of gray clouds pressed against the house, making the world beyond the long windows disappear in the fog. There seemed to be only the house, the two sisters, and their memories. Occasionally the rains would let up and the sunshine, reduced to a feeble yellowish light trying to seep through the overcast sky, would appear. But soon even that faint light would be snuffed out, swallowed by the black storm clouds that swirled above like great birds of prey.
Everything seemed unreal, the hours passed in an eternal monotony. Nothing distinguished one moment from the next. Charlotte often glanced at the clock, but even that seemed unrelated to reality; the revolution of its hands connected to some inner force not intent on marking the time of this world. The hands could have been spinning wildly, or moving as deliberately as death, patiently stalking youth. Its constant measured ticking only reinforced the atmosphere of suspended sameness.
“I can’t go on like this,” Charlotte moaned softly to herself.
Rose was taciturn and often sat for hours watching the rains turning the earth into mire.
Whenever she caught sight of Charlotte, she’d give her a smug smile, pursing her lips disagreeably. She seemed to enjoy taunting Charlotte with her own loathsome presence.
Rose sat in the library one morning, but this time she was not watching the rains. She had received a letter from her daughter and was eagerly slicing it open.
“We have got to put an end to this madness,” Charlotte’s harsh voice startled Rose. Charlotte paced the opening of the double doors that led from the hall. She ran her hands distractedly through her disheveled hair. She seemed fatigued, but unable to rest. Rose ignored her with a cold silence, she continued tearing the envelope apart.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Charlotte screamed. She was obviously on the verge of losing all control of her violent temper.
“Of course, dear,” Rose answered her acidly, “I was just hoping you’d go away.”
Charlotte strode into the room. “Well, I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. Jesus Christ, Rose, this whole ordeal is driving me crazy! Why can’t we try to reach some sort of accommodation? You must be as upset as I am over the way we’ve been living. We have to face each other here for another nine years. Can’t we make this more bearable?”
“We can only do that if you’d shut up. I was trying to read Marjorie’s letter. I just wish for one moment that Amelia could see how disgusting your behavior has been. I’m sure she’d be horrified, and cut you out of her will completely.” She glanced up at Amelia’s portrait as if she could elicit her approval. “Would you come begging to me for money then, I wonder?” She mused, relishing the scene.
“Oh, you think Amelia had no idea how we’d be during this visit. Well, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought possible. She’s set us up, dear sister.”
“Stop that Charlotte,” Rose spoke menacingly to her sister. “Don’t say things like that about the dead. I don’t like it. All Amelia was trying to do… “
“All Amelia was trying to do!” shrieked Charlotte, “Do you realize how many times we’ve sai
d those words all through our lives? All Amelia was trying to do was to protect Daddy, all Amelia was trying to do! She’s still trying!”
“You’re crazy Charlotte! I think you always were. No wonder you never had any kind of marriage. What man could stand you?”
“David.” Charlotte stood perfectly still, “Before you came along.” Her voice was deadly calm. “If you hadn’t gotten pregnant, I doubt if he would have married you.” She moved toward Rose, her voice taunting, “Does your daughter know the truth about her pure, sweet mother? Does she Rose? Let’s see what you daughter has written to her dearest mother.”
Charlotte leaned over her trying to read the letter that Rose now held in back of her. “Is she telling you to bear up, only a few more days with crazy Aunt Charlotte? What lies do you tell her about me?” Trembling, Charlotte ripped the letter out of Rose’s hand.
Dear Mother,
I hope that you’re keeping up your spirits under the circumstances you’re living under. Cheer up… only one more week to go. I do have some news, though, that might do just that. I was going through some of the old furniture in the attic, you know how I get on rainy days with nothing to do. Well, guess what I found hidden behind a lot of your old mementos – a beautiful locket. ALWAYS DAVID is engraved on the back. I know you’ll be happy to wear it again. You’re so sentimental about anything that Daddy’s ever given you. We’re looking forward to seeing you very soon.
Love,
Marjorie
“Oh-God-Oh! My locket!” A cry of anguish tore from Charlotte’s throat. She crumpled the letter still in her grasp, and ripped it apart, hurling its fragmented remains at Rose. Suddenly Charlotte grew calmer, her cries ceased. A merciless grin twisted her mouth. “Maybe it’s time that I took something away from you. I can finally do that now. I think that Marjorie should know everything about you.”
Rose’s face twisted with pain. “You’d better leave her out of this,” she threatened. Charlotte’s mocking face pushed closer. “Will you tell her Rose, or should I?”
“Shut up! Shut up!” she shrilled. She lunged at Charlotte, obsessed with driving that hideously sardonic grin from her face. Her hands sprung at Charlotte’s throat. Charlotte cringed with loathing at the touch of her despised sister. All the hatred she had nurtured within her burst like an abscess at that touch. Its venom destroyed her reason. She began savagely pounding Rose into submission. With each blow she tried to make her feel all the pain she had ever suffered.
Rose struggled against this furious assault, but, exhausted, lost her balance and stumbled, falling backwards. She felt a sharp crack at the back of her head, she was dazed, the room grew dimmer. “If I can just reach… ” Her long arm strained towards the letter opener still lying on the sofa.
Their bodies were found several days later, lying twisted in a macabre embrace, beneath the vacant stare and frozen smile of the young Amelia.
TAPESTRY
PART ONE
Does the insect know, when it steps lightly on the first silken strand of the spider’s web, what the future holds?
The slamming of the back door startled Karen. She quickly dropped her book and turned towards the sudden sound.
“It’s me Mom,” shouted Lori.
“Oh, I just sat down and started reading a new book. I’ve been hearing so much about it, I thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.”
“What book?”
“The Woven Web.”
“Sorry I interrupted, but I wanted to talk to you about a few things, and see how you’re doing.”
Karen smiled and kissed Lori, her only child, who’d grown into a beautiful and competent woman.
“Now that you’re here, I’m fine.”
“That’s not the answer I was hoping for, and it’s why I came over.”
“Are you ok?”
“I’m great, it’s you I’m concerned about. I think it’s time we had a talk.”
“Uh, oh, I’m not in trouble am I?” teased Karen. It had been a family joke. Anytime her parents wanted to “have a talk”, Lori knew she was in trouble. Even though it had been years ago, they both still laughed about it. But Lori wasn’t laughing now.
“Well, in a way, I think you are in trouble. Daddy’s heart attack was almost two years ago and since he’s been gone I don’t see you really getting on with your life.”
“I don’t know about that. I started reading the book so I could talk to the people at the library about it, you know to be part of the group.”
“Volunteering to read to kids once a week and having a little conversation with the other volunteers hardly makes a life.”
“What would you have me do, become an explorer?” She wanted to keep the conversation from getting serious. Lori would not cooperate.
“I’m serious, you wanted to travel for years, and Daddy always said ‘next year.’ That was his motto. Mom, there is no ‘next year.’ Only you can make it ‘this year.’ You always put him and me ahead of yourself. There’s no purpose to that anymore. Daddy’s gone, and the sale of his business left you and me with enough money to last both our lifetimes. You have no responsibilities. You’re overdue to start having the fun you deserve, while you’re still young enough to enjoy life. At fifty-two, you could have forty years left. You know how long people live in your family. It’s time to get out and take a starring role in your own life.”
Karen’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back and turned her head to hide from Lori’s insistent gaze. Lori was right, of course, but the truth she hid, even from herself for so many years, was that she had become afraid to leave her familiar comfortable surroundings. She was terrified of the unknown.
“Listen”, Lori persisted, “Nick and I think you should go to London. You remember how much fun he and I had there last year. It’ll be an easy trip. No language problems, lots to do and see. We loved it!”
“Of course you did, sweetie, you were there with your husband.”
“Yes, but you could still have an incredible time on your own. We want to give that trip to you as a gift. We also want to give you this.” She reached into her pocket, removed a small velvet box, and handed it to her mother. Inside was a beautiful diamond star shaped pendant.
“Wearing it will remind you to be the star of your own life. It’ll bring you luck.”
“Good or bad?” quipped Karen.
Lori’s face voiced her disapproval.
“I know, no negativity.”
Karen’s tears fell freely, but now they weren’t all from fear.
“Can I say no?”
“No!” Lori shot back.
Karen hesitated, thinking of her therapist’s advice. The grief counselor she went to after Andy’s death recommended a psychologist, Dr. Salwyn, who was also urging her to travel.
“It’s not a lifetime commitment. What have you got to lose?” She could still hear him saying that now.
Karen relented, “ok, ok, I give up. You win.”
“No, Mom, hopefully you win.”
Karen wouldn’t have had the courage to agree without Dr. Salwyn’s help. He had gently guided her to open the door to her past. “It will only help you make better choices in the future.”
In their sessions he encouraged her to talk, and at last, someone listened.
She couldn’t tell when she had changed from a young bride, eager to experience a life of love and adventure, into the woman she had become.
When they were first married there was no money to go anywhere. Besides, whatever little they had, Andy saved to start his business. Then she became pregnant with Lori. Andy begged her to quit teaching to take care of their baby. “I can take care of the both of you now”, he said. His idea of taking care of them was to spend more and more time working. “I want you and Lori to have everything.”
“When I married you,” she cried, “you were everything I wanted.”
“Do we have to go there again? You know a busine
ss doesn’t run by itself.”
Neither does a marriage, she thought, but gave up trying to change him. His response would have been more extravagant gifts for her and Lori. She wondered if what he really enjoyed was showing off the proof of his success. When she’d dress to go out, wearing a new outfit or piece of jewelry, he’d say, “That looks great, Karen.” Never, “You look great, Karen”.
Cats bring their owners dead mice to show off their hunting skills. Karen got dead minks to wear to show off Andy’s.
People gravitated towards her charismatic husband. “You’re so lucky to be married to Andy”, they’d say to her, and turn their attention back to him. She stopped trying to engage anyone when he was around. It became easier to find comfort in her familiar routine, living in her beautiful home, raising Lori. She didn’t want the world to reach in and hurt her. Out there she was a reflection of his success. But even in here, as she looked in the mirror, she felt she was just a reflection of herself.
Dr. Salwyn and Lori had convinced her it was time to start a new chapter in her life.
Karen sipped her second cup of coffee slowly, reluctant to leave the cheerful hotel restaurant. The lunch crowd was mostly gone, leaving the room empty, except for her and one other person. This was the afternoon of her third day in London and she was already regretting her decision to come. She had gone on a tour yesterday and had no particular schedule for the rest of the day. The view of London from the tour bus was overwhelming. The streets were a confusing labyrinth, many were centuries old. Often modern life was set on ancient bones. The noise and exhaust competed for spaces clogged by traffic and pedestrians. How could she possibly find her way on her own? She was trying to be fearless, and it wasn’t working out as she had hoped.
The waiters were too polite to rush her, but she sensed they were anxious for her to leave. But as soon as she’d leave, she faced an empty afternoon and an equally empty life. The other diner, a distinguished looking man about her age, also appeared to be in no hurry to finish his cup of tea or his newspaper. That gave her the courage to linger a bit longer. She glanced over at him, planning to leave when he did. He put his paper aside and turned in her direction. A look of shock momentarily flashed across his face. He regained his composure, but now was staring at her. She couldn’t believe such an attractive man was looking at her like that, but it was not her imagination.