“I made a terrible mistake, Heath. I regret reading your poems, and I ask for your forgiveness. I promise I will never do any such thing again.” It felt good to at least try to win his affections back.
“Why did you do it, Lillian?”
Heath wanted to know why, but there was no way I could confess my reasons. My longing to have him like me the way he did Clara needed to be kept to myself. If I told him, he would laugh and call me a silly little girl. After all, I was still physically a little girl.
“When Ayden handed them to me, I didn’t realize what they were. I didn’t know they were your poems,” I lied. I wasn’t doing a very good job; I could see he didn’t believe me.
“It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone,” he said flatly.
“Maybe she will write to you,” I said—the most encouragement I could muster. I wanted to sound enthusiastic and optimistic for his benefit. I wanted to be the friend he once turned to.
“Maybe. I accept your apology, Lillian.” Then he dropped his hands. Though he forgave me, Heath wasn’t going to forget how I betrayed him. He didn’t need me the way I still needed him. His childhood was slipping away and leaving him perplexed by all the changes that came with it. Heath’s voice had deepened since his fifteenth birthday; he had begun to shave every morning with his father. He had also grown a few inches taller, passing both Daddy and Edward in height, making him over six feet tall. And then there were his emotional growing pains. Heath had never been in love before; those deep emotions were foreign to him. He was just beginning to find his way to figuring it all out when Clara disappeared from his life. Now he was confused. What would he do with all the newfound passion? Where would he focus all of that intense energy? There wasn’t a girl that could replace Clara, at least not then. Heath would have to wait years before he was again given the opportunity to love.
_______________
Chapter Ten
The last of the occasional warm autumn days ended abruptly, leaving the island covered in a blanket of thick snow. Out on the sea, enormous icebergs began to form, creating all kinds of hazards for the vessels that inhabited the North Atlantic. Daddy and Edward had more than enough rescues during the first part of December to keep them busy. Vessels were constantly thrashed around by enormous swells, some even broken in half, only to be sucked down into the frigid sea. By some great fortune, there was no loss of life. One winter storm in particular lasted for three days and dropped a foot of snow under blizzard conditions. There was no way to reach the mainland to attend school. We couldn’t go outside, except to do our chores as quickly as possible. While Daddy was working days on end up in the tower, I was left with strict instructions to watch over Momma. Opal couldn’t manage the house and Momma while Edward and the boys were off doing rescues, so Daddy came to me.
He took out my hand and gently placed the key in my palm. I could see his reluctance, but what could he do? Momma needed looking after. I was happy to do it.
“Please, Lillian, do as I say. Only go in to help her eat and empty her chamber pot. That’s it, Lillian. I know you miss your momma, but your company will not be received the way it once was. Don’t pay her any mind.”
Daddy had left Momma in my care for the first time in months. Though he was extremely reluctant, he had no choice. The doctor had been by just before the last storm broke, gave Daddy the same medicines, and recommended the same treatment. Bed rest and more bed rest.
She was sitting up, playing with one of my old dolls that Daddy had given her. Her hair had grown long, and it still had a beautiful shine. Daddy brushed it every night, because that’s what would have made her happy, if she were aware. Momma looked like a little girl, younger than me in the big bed.
“I came to see if you are hungry,” I said, as I slowly approached the bed. Momma smiled and asked me to sit with her. I wanted to; I wanted to leap onto the bed and jump into her arms. I needed her to hold me and put a hundred kisses on my cheeks as she used to do when I was little. But I remembered what Daddy made me promise.
“Opal made some delicious fried chicken. Would you like some, Momma?”
“Your hair looks different, Hattie. What have you done to it?”
My legs began to tremble beneath me. My promise rang in my ears, but my heart wanted to enter Momma’s world, even if only for a little while.
“Come and sit with me. We can play dolls,” she sang.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“We can eat later. Come play with me. I insist.”
“I can’t, Momma,” I said, fighting my tears. “I’ll be back later.” I locked the door behind me. It was harder than I expected, and didn’t know if I could do it. It was painful to see my beloved Momma act like a seven-year-old child. She looked like the same Momma, but inside, she was a different person.
Afterwards, in the early evening, when I explained to Daddy what happened when he came for a brief checkup on me, he was uncertain what to do.
“The weather is too ominous; I can’t be away for more than a minute. Bring Momma her supper, Lillian, and leave as soon as she is finished. And give her one of your other dolls. She loves dolls,” he said, then left, shaking his head in disbelief.
Opal had Heath bring Momma’s supper plate. Ayden and Edward were on standby for the next vessel to go down. Heath battled the wind and snow to make it to our house, which was only a few hundred yards from his front door. His face was covered with white, powdery snow.
“Come in, quickly,” I said. I ushered him in and took the plate. He removed his boots, hat, and coat.
“It’s wicked cold out there,” he commented.
“Warm up by the fire; I’ll be back down in a few minutes.”
I stopped in my room to get Momma one of the dolls she’d made me a long time ago then went to her room. I woke her with the sound of the key turning in the lock.
“I have supper for you.” She sat up as I placed the plate on the table beside her bed.
“Ummm, smells delicious,” she said. I took the napkin and placed it under her chin.
“Oh, can I play with that doll?” she asked, when she noticed it on the bed.
“Of course, Momma; I brought it for you.”
Now she wasn’t interested in eating.
“You should eat.”
“Maybe later,” she said, and pulled the napkin off.
“I can’t bring it back later. Please eat,” I begged.
“I like this doll the best. Can I have it, Hattie? I will give you one of mine. Mine are more expensive, and I have seen you looking at them on my shelf, especially the one I named Lillian.”
I gasped. It was eerie to hear Momma tell me she had a doll with my name. Heath was in the doorway and overheard Momma’s madness. Momma spotted him and, as predicted, believed he was someone from her past. Maybe it was the brother she thought she had. She called out to him.
“Patrick, is that you?”
Heath looked to me for an answer.
“No, Momma; that’s Heath Dalton. Don’t you remember him? He is Edward and Opal’s son. Ayden is his younger brother,” I explained, as if that were going to make a difference.
“Patrick, Patrick,” she repeated his name over and over in a heavy voice. “Do we have to leave today? I’m afraid.” Momma pulled the covers up to her face as trembled in fear.
“What should I say?” Heath asked in a whisper.
“Tell her she is safe, that she doesn’t have to go.” I hoped that would help calm her down. Heath was kind enough to play the part; he wanted to help comfort her. He came and took hold of her delicate hand.
“There is nothing to fear; you can stay right here.”
Momma was obviously relieved, took a long breath, and said, “Promise me, Patrick—promise me we never have to leave Sutton Hall.”
Heath shot me an uncertain look, but I nodded, indicating he should agree.
“I promise.”
“Will you eat now, Momma?”
She smiled widely and a
greed. Heath and I watched as she devoured her food. She was messy and forgot her etiquette. I wiped her face as Heath took her empty plate. I helped her with a glass of milk to wash her food down. Then as we left, she began to play with the new doll I brought her. Heath was at a loss for words. I was sure he had never witness such lunacy before. It felt awkward to have to explain.
“Momma thinks she is back home in Savannah,” I said.
Heath frowned, and I realized I had divulged a piece of a secret. Daddy never wanted anyone to know we were southerners.
“I thought you were from New York.”
“Well, I was born there,” I answered, though I wasn’t positive that was where I was born. No one ever told me; I just assumed. I scrambled to think of a way to cover my mistake.
“Momma thinks that is where she was from. She makes up all kinds of things. Daddy said she had never been to Georgia.”
“Oh,” he mumbled. “I see.”
“She will probably go to sleep now.” We stood at the top of the stairs. Heath was so much taller than me; I had to almost strain my neck to look into his eyes. I could tell Heath was not comfortable with me the way he used to be, and it saddened me.
“I better get back to Mother,” he said. I followed him down to the front door. His coat had dried from the heat of the fire, and I handed it to him.
“Thank you, Heath.”
“For what, Lillian?”
“For being kind to Momma,” I said as a tear escaped my eye and cascaded down my warm cheek.
“If I can help in any way, Lillian, just ask. Okay?”
I looked away so he wouldn’t see my obvious adoration for him. My heart ached for him the way his must have for Clara. The more he pulled away from me, the more I wanted him back in my life the way it used to be. I wanted the sparkle back in his clear blue eyes, for him to want to teach me about the moon and the stars, and most of all, I wanted to win Heath’s heart, just as Clara had.
The snow continued to fall, day after day; it finally ceased on Christmas Eve. It was our first Christmas on Jasper Island and much different from all the years past. Holidays such as Christmas and Easter were not joyous and jovial. They were religious events that Momma kept strict. I wasn’t aware that on Christmas, someone called Santa made his way across the world on a magical sleigh and stopped in the night at every house that had a good boy or girl to leave a gift. Santa apparently flew through the air with a sleigh full of toys pulled by magical, flying reindeers. When Ayden told me this, I was astounded.
“And when he lands on the roof, he comes down the chimney and leaves the toy on a table near the Christmas tree.”
“We don’t have a tree in the house,” I said. It all sounded so ridiculous.
“Father is out on the mainland chopping one down as we speak. Then we will decorate it tonight.”
I looked at Heath, who was sitting next to the fire and reading a book. He peered over the cover and smiled, then said, “It’s all true, Lillian.”
“So this Santa man will bring me a gift tonight?”
“You have to be asleep, though. If you’re not, he can’t come down the chimney,” Ayden said.
“But we don’t have a tree,” I stated flatly.
“You won’t need one. You can sleep at our house, and Santa can leave your present on the table by the tree. You can decorate it with us. We string the tree with beads and hang glass ornaments,” Heath explained, and then he went on to give me a history lesson about the origin of Santa Claus. I sat patiently and listened, but it was hard not to allow my mind to wander, thinking of the present Santa Claus might bring me. I already had a beautiful doll; what more could I want? I couldn’t imagine how Santa would guess.
Ayden left to go and get me one of his favorite books then he handed it to me when he returned. It was called, The Night before Christmas, and it had drawings of Santa.
I tried to put it together in my mind. It all sounded very exciting. I couldn’t imagine why Momma and Daddy had never told me of such a thing.
Edward arrived in the early afternoon with the tree. It was just small enough to fit through the front door after he trimmed the branches and trunk. Opal had Heath and Ayden bring down a large wooden box full of lovely decorations.
“What are these for?” I asked, holding up small, round, wooden hoops.
“You put the candles in them then they go on the tree,” Opal said, showing me. “You’ve never seen a Christmas tree before?”
“She’s never heard of Santa, either,” Ayden chimed in.
“Really?” Opal exclaimed, wide-eyed.
“Well, she knows all about it now,” Heath added.
“Come on, then; let’s get the decorations on the tree before supper is served.” Opal was preparing everything from sweetbread pates and rice croquettes to the main dish—quail.
Daddy came in from a long nap with Momma. I had just finished setting the table.
“Come, everyone, sit,” Edward called.
Ayden and Heath eagerly sat and waited patiently for the prayer. I could almost hear their grumbling stomachs; the food smelled so good. Edward gave a rather long-winded thanks to God then declared it was time to dig in.
“You boys make sure you save room for dessert. I made your favorite—nesselrode pudding,” Opal said.
“This is a fine meal, Opal; thank you for having Lillian and me,” Daddy said. The way he said it made Opal’s eyes tear up. Even Edward heard the angst in Daddy’s voice and patted him on the back, then said, “You are always welcome, Garrett.”
Most of the time, I felt like a member of the Dalton family, but occasionally, there was something said or done to remind me that Daddy and I were alone now that Momma was ill and were merely guests in their home. I mentioned to Daddy that Heath and Ayden wanted me to spend the night so Santa could leave me a gift.
“Well, I don’t know, Lillian,” Daddy said.
“It’s fine with us, Garrett,” Opal told him.
“Amelia—she wouldn’t approve,” he mumbled.
I waited quietly and patiently while he thought about it. So far, Daddy had given in to all of my wishes; I hoped he would say yes to this one.
“Can I speak with you in private?” Daddy asked Opal.
“Of course,” she said, and together they went back into the kitchen.
I glanced at Ayden to see if he knew what they were discussing. He shrugged. It didn’t faze Heath or Edward. Maybe Daddy wanted to work something out for Momma’s care for the night ahead.
Their time in the kitchen was short. Daddy sat down and announced I couldn’t stay. I thought Ayden and Heath were more stunned by his decision than me.
“She can’t stay, sir?” Ayden asked in disbelief.
“No, she must come home with me after dessert.”
Daddy didn’t look at me when he said that. I didn’t know anything other than I was saddened and hurt.
“Maybe next year, Lillian,” he said, when he finally looked my way. I lowered my head so the tears would drop straight down on my dress and not run along my cheeks for everyone to see, especially Heath, who sat across from me. The atmosphere quickly went from cheerful to gloomy.
“If you don’t mind, could I be excused?” I asked.
“Lillian, please stay for pudding,” Opal kindly said.
“Please stay, Lillian. You will really like it,” Ayden added with great enthusiasm. It wasn’t until Heath asked that I lifted my head, and quickly wiped my tears away.
“Stay,” was all he said. It was his pleading, poignant one word that changed my mind.
In life there are times that are forever memorable, moments that are worthy of keeping for one reason or another. I would keep that moment close in my mind, especially when I found myself all alone and desperately needing to be reminded of what value I had.
Just as night began to fall, we filled the hoops with candles and lit the tree. I had never seen anything so beautiful. The glow from the candles made the beads glisten, and the delicate
glass ornaments threw off prisms of light all around the room. Daddy had me say goodnight.
“I hope you get a really nice present from Santa,” I said to Ayden.
I could see he felt terribly sorry for me. Heath tried to smile, for my sake, but it did no use. I couldn’t hold back my disappointment any longer and began to sob. I wanted more than anything to be included, and to feel a part of something other than the insanity of Momma and Daddy’s struggle to cope with emotional torment. Every day, I had to face my bizarre reality and find a way to live in a world that left me full of questions about the secrets in Momma’s mind. Daddy wasn’t aware of the emotional toll it had taken on me. He looked past my tears and ushered me on.
“Momma is sleeping soundly. I don’t want you to see her tonight,” he said when he came to tuck me into bed.
I was so angry with Daddy for not allowing me to stay with the Daltons that I turned my cheek away when he was about to give me a goodnight kiss. He was surprised. I thought he might have stayed and talked about his decision, but he left, not closing the door behind him. It wasn’t fair, I thought. I deserved things that other children got to experience. I hadn’t realized how different we really were until we moved to Jasper Island. We had endlessly tried to stay hidden. That’s why Daddy chose to be a lighthouse keeper—so he could stay in the shadows, far from the eyes of the world and all the scrutiny and judgment that came with it.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I thought of Santa Claus and decided to sit by my window and wait to see him come out of the sky, to see if he was indeed true and not just a made-up story. If Santa were real and flew through the night, then Daddy must have seen him some time in the years he was a lighthouse keeper. Maybe there was a reason Daddy didn’t want me to have any part of the Christmas celebration other than Momma’s wishes. I didn’t know for sure. I was speculating on so many things it made my head spin and gave me a terrible headache. My head pounded above my eyes, and I wished for some relief. The strain of staring out the window wasn’t helping, and after I saw the ghost of Victor, as I had so many times before that it had become somewhat ordinary, walk by on his usual rounds of the island, I decided to sneak into Momma’s room and take some of her powders. That would relieve my pain. It always had for her. I went in and out without being noticed and quickly took the medicine. At first, when I lay back in my bed and closed my eyes, I thought it wasn’t helping, but not long after, I felt lightheaded, and my eyelids grew heavy. My pain dissolved, and I fell into a deep sleep from which I wouldn’t wake for an entire day.
The Girl in the Lighthouse (Arrington) Page 12