Heartsong

by V. C. Andrews

  "Going to Los Angeles? But I don't

  understand," Grandpa Samuel said, once again turning to Grandma Olivia for guidance. She sat on the bench and looked from Holly to me.

  "Are you taking her?" she asked Holly.

  "I offered to take her to New York. She can catch a flight to Los Angeles from there. I have a sister who lives in L.A. and I'll call and ask her to meet Melody and look after her," she replied. "It's a good time for her to take a trip."

  "Pardon?"

  "Her astrological chart," Holly replied, "indicates that."

  "What nonsense. Astrological chart, rushing clear across the country. You can't go to Los Angeles. I absolutely forbid it," Grandma said.

  "No, you don't, Grandma." I smiled. "This woman could be my mother, and if she is, I have someone to live with and someplace else to live," I said.

  "But how do we know this is Haille and--"

  "We don't for sure, but it looks as if it might be," Holly replied. "The man with whom Haille left for L.A. is that model's manager. Kenneth found out for us."

  Grandma smirked.

  "Amazing, Grandpa Samuel said. "But if that's Haille and she's still alive, who did we bury in our family plot?"

  "What difference does it make?" Grandma Olivia snapped at him. She sat thinking a moment and then looked up at us.

  "Such a trip costs a lot of money. Where would you get it?" she asked.

  "From you," I said calmly. "Call it an advance on my inheritance."

  Grandpa Samuel laughed and shook his head until Grandma Olivia shot him a withering look.

  "Who else knows about this--this idiotic idea?"

  "Just Kenneth and my friend in Sewell," I said. How this family appeared in public was her only real concern. "Unless of course, I have to go begging for the money. I could go see my grandfather, I suppose,"

  I added. She pulled her shoulders back and turned her eyes to stone.

  "How dare you try to blackmail me?"

  "I'm not, but I'm going and I'm going tonight," I said firmly.

  She ripped the catalogue from Grandpa Samuel's hands and gazed at the photographs again, shaking her head.

  "This is insane," she mumbled. "Very well." She rose. "Come with me," she ordered.

  "Don't we know someone who could look into this for us, Olivia?" Grandpa Samuel asked. "Rather than send the girl, I mean.'

  "You think I want more people to know about this?" she spit back at him.

  "Well, I just thought--"

  "Don't think," she ordered. "It's a waste of time. Come along," she told Holly and me, and we followed her into the house.

  She took us to the office and went behind the large, dark oak desk. Holly's presence gave me courage and I was proud not to feel even a little bit intimidated, until she raised her head and focused those eyes on me.

  "You will sign this," she said, scribbling on a plain sheet of paper. I gazed at Holly, who looked amazed. Grandma Olivia turned the paper to me and handed me the pen.

  The paper described my taking two thousand dollars as an advance on my inheritance. It was dated and signed by her. I signed it quickly and she folded it and put it in a small wall safe, from which she drew out money.

  "Count it," she ordered. I did so. It was two thousand dollars in fifty-dollar bills. I had never seen so much money at once, much less held it in my hands. She gave me an envelope.

  "If you lose that, don't come running back here for more. Make your way on your wits," she commanded. She sat again, folding her hands and leaning forward. "I expect to hear from you as soon as you confirm something and some decision is made on your future, especially if you are coming back here."

  I nodded.

  "Thank you," I said.

  She leaned back.

  "Did it ever occur to you that even if that is your mother, she might not be worth finding? If she wanted you to know she was alive, she would have called to tell you, wouldn't she?"

  "I don't know," I said. "That's why I want to go."

  She smirked and then looked up at me with an expression that bordered on concern and friendliness.

  "I'll give you this advice: if someone's drowning and you can't save her, you'll only drown yourself as well if you don't let go," she said.

  No one was more of an expert when it came to saving herself, I thought, but I didn't say it. I held her gaze for an instant and then turned to leave.

  "May I ask you when you were born? The month, day, year?" Holly asked Grandma Olivia. "You may not. That's impertinent."

  "You were born between November twentysecond and December twenty-first," Holly replied, undaunted. Grandma Olivia's eyes widened and she looked at me. She must have thought I had given Holly the correct information.

  "I don't know why I care, but what is that supposed to mean if it's so?"

  "That you're a Sagittarius," Holly replied.

  "Whatever that may mean to you, it means nothing to me," Grandma Olivia said.

  Holly smiled as if she thought that was exactly what a Sagittarius like Grandma Olivia would say.

  Grandma Olivia then saw to it that my two small suitcases were brought back down.

  "I had had them placed in what was your mother's room," she told me at the door. "Somehow, I think you will be back."

  Holly and I put my bags in her car and drove away.

  "You were right," she said after a few minutes of deep silence, "she's definitely not like everyone's little old grandmother."

  I started to smile and then thought about Cary.

  "I have one more good-bye before we leave, Holly," I said.

  "I know. I'll drop you off at the house and go get my things. Then we'll be off."

  I sucked in my breath, closed my eyes, and prayed for the right words to help Cary understand the things that I didn't understand myself.

  Aunt Sara and May were surprised, but happy to see me return. They were preparing dinner. Even though Cary had not come in from the sea yet, Uncle Jacob had apparently gone back upstairs to his room.

  "I had a very difficult time of it," Aunt Sara said in a loud whisper, her eyes shifting toward the ceiling. "It took nearly fifteen minutes to get him up the stairs. He had to keep catching his breath. He's very upset about it. Do you have a nice room at Olivia's?" she asked with a sad smile.

  "She's giving me my mother's old room," I said. "Oh. That's very nice. I remember that room. It's airy and the windows face the sea."

  "But first I have to take a trip, Aunt Sara."

  "A trip? Where?"

  I told her, but instead of surprising and exciting her, the news made her sad and withdrawn. She lowered her eyes and went back to her work.

  "I'll come see you as soon as I return," I promised and threw my arms around her before giving her a good-bye kiss on the cheek.

  "I don't understand the things some people do. It seems they just want to make the people who love them unhappy. Like Laura, going out to sea that day. Cary said he warned her," she mumbled, her eyes on the potatoes she was mashing. "Why did she have to go?'

  She wiped her eyes and turned to me.

  "You don't have to go, do you, Melody?"

  "Yes, Aunt Sara. I have to go or I'll never be able to sleep one single night," I said.

  She nodded, wiped away her tears, smiled, and stroked my hair before returning to her work. That was how I left her.

  Outside, I sat on a bench and explained my trip to May. She wished she could come along. I promised I would write her letters and post cards every chance I got and I asked her to look after Cary for me while I was away. She promised she would and we embraced and kissed. Then she ran back into the house so I wouldn't see her cry.

  I sat there for a while, just enjoying the breeze on my face and watching the thin veil of clouds move in from the sea. I hadn't lived here that long, but my experiences went so deep, it seemed I had lived most of my life by the ocean. The cry of the terns was familiar now, and the colors in the water didn't surprise me as much. In my heart I wa
s no longer an outsider. I welcomed the salty sea air, the roar of the surf, the sand between my toes. Maybe Cary was right, maybe this really was my home, and maybe Grandma Olivia's confidence about my returning came from her intuitive knowledge about me and what was true for me.

  I rose and walked out on the beach. Looking toward the dock, I saw the lobster boat had arrived. I hurried over the sand and waved as soon as I drew close enough for Cary to see me. He waved back and then watched me approach. He had his hands on his hips and I knew his sharp sea eyes were fixed on my every move. He came off the boat quickly when I reached the dock.

  "What's happening now?" he asked with that tight smile and those deeply penetrating eyes.

  Practically without stopping for a breath, I related the day's events and then showed him the catalogue. He was speechless. All he could do was shake his head. He looked back at the boat and then shouted to Roy.

  "I'll be there in a few minutes."

  "No problem," Roy called back.

  Cary handed the catalogue back to me and we walked up the beach. He had his hands in his pockets and walked looking down. I had my arms folded under my breasts, my head up, waiting, wondering what words would pass between us.

  "You probably won't come back," he finally said. "You'll probably end up living in California."

  "That's not true, Cary. Even if--if this is my mother and she has a sensible explanation for all this, I'll still come back to see you and someday--"

  "Someday, what?" he said, turning. His eyes were so full of sadness and pain, I couldn't look directly at him. I gazed out at the ocean.

  "Someday you and I will have our own home and you'll design boats and--"

  "And May will hear and Laura will come in from the sea and my father won't die and my mother will stop crying herself to sleep. Why stop with one pipe dream when there are so many?" he said and turned away, walking quickly back toward the dock.

  "Cary!"

  He kept walking.

  "Cary! I swear, I'll be back. Cary!"

  He turned and looked at me. I ran to him and threw my arms around him. At first he let me dangle there. Then he put his arms around my waist and sighed.

  "Please, just wish me luck," I said.

  He nodded.

  "Good luck. I'd come with you if Dad weren't so sick."

  "I know you would. I'll call you and write you and--"

  He put his finger on my lips

  "No promises."

  "No promises," I agreed, "except just this one." I kissed him hard and long and then I smiled at him and his eyes warmed. "You can believe in that, Cary Logan, and throw your skepticism overboard."

  I left him standing there, smiling at me, his shoulders gleaming in the late-afternoon sun, the sea, roaring behind him, and my heart . . .

  My heart crying with the terns.

  Epilogue

  .

  I was outside the house waiting when Holly

  returned. Taking one last visual gulp of the house and the beach, I got into her car and we puttered away. I didn't look back.

  "You all right?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "This is for you," she said, reaching beneath her

  seat to come up with a small bag. "Kenneth sent it along."

  "What is it?"

  I opened the bag and dipped my fingers in to pull out a silver heart locket on a silver chain.

  "He made it himself, years and years ago," she told me.

  I found the tiny lever and flipped it open to look at a picture of Mommy when she couldn't have been much older than I was now. The picture on the other side had been removed. I imagined it had been a picture of Kenneth.

  "He told me to tell you he gave that to your mother and before she left with your step-father, she gave it back. I think it meant a great deal to him and it wasn't easy for him to give it away."

  "Yes," I said, nodding and staring at the picture of Mommy. She was, as they say, so photogenic.

  "Maybe, if she's suffering from some form of amnesia, that," Holly said, nodding toward the locket, "will help revive memories."

  "You don't think just looking at me would?" I asked.

  "I don't know. I've heard of strange cases where people face people they've lived with all their lives and look at them as strangers: children, parents, husbands, and wives. When the mind wants to shut something out, it slams a door of steel and it takes fingers of steel to open it again."

  She laughed.

  "A friend of mine," she continued, "thinks amnesia proves we have other lives. She thinks it occurs when something puts us on the border between two existences, and we can't recall either one." She shrugged. "Who knows?"

  "Yes," I said as the Cape Cod scenery rushed by, "who knows?"

  I looked out the window at the ocean and the tourists on the beaches. In the distance I saw the lighthouse.

  "How was Kenneth when you left him?" I asked.

  "Back to work." She turned, a soft smile on her face. "Did you expect less? If ever he had to escape reality, he has to now," she added.

  "Mommy was always trying to do that, especially when we lived in Sewell. Actually, I shouldn't be surprised by all this," I said and then I sighed. "I forgot to call Alice Morgan to thank her."

  "You can call from the motel tonight."

  "I want to share all the expenses, Holly. I insist." "No problem. I saw your grandmother give you that pile of loot." She laughed.

  Provincetown fell farther and farther behind us.

  Mommy had brought me here under false pretenses. Supposedly, we were just visiting Daddy's relatives after his death. She made it seem like the right thing to do, and then she surprised me by telling me arrangements had been made for me to live here until she could send for me.

  Well, she never did.

  Or maybe she had. Maybe, ironically, she had sent for me through these pictures in the catalogue. Perhaps fate had taken control after all, and those stars and the moon Holly talked about so much had played a role in my destiny.

  I had been on a mad and desperate search to discover the identity of my father. During the course of that pursuit, I entered Cary's private world, filled with his sorrows and dreams, and we discovered each other in ways I had not expected.

  I would miss our walks on the beach, our talks, our laughter and tears. I knew he would spend all of his nights in his attic workshop while I was away. He would mold his dream ships and he would stop and remember me sitting quietly beside him, watching him work. We were like two people who had been cast overboard by cruel events in their lives, two people who had found each other adrift, and we had joined hands to take each other to our own private beach; our paradise.

  On it we sat and watched the twilight sun kiss the horizon and leave us night after night with promises to help us face each morning. It made us stronger, gave us courage, filled our hearts with hope.

  I don't want to say good-bye, Cary, I thought, but I'm afraid of where this road leads. You were right in saying we should make no promises to each other. Too often promises were made to us that could never be kept.

  I came here to unravel lies, to dig away the sand until I reached the hidden truths about ourselves, and often, like the tide, our family pushed the sand back. Here I was on a journey to unravel more, to push away more sand.

  Why bother? Your eyes asked me, Cary. Why care anymore?

  The answer is if I can't find the answer to who I am, then I can't be truthful to you, and Cary, my darling, my darling Cary, if there is one thing I will never do, it's lie to you.

  Lies are what we have inherited, but it's not the legacy we'll leave our children.

  That's why I go on.

  And why I looked toward the road west and why, as we passed the sign that read Now Leaving Provincetown, Cape Cod, I smiled.

  I knew I would be back, and when I returned, I would be armed with the truth.

  # 2)