"I know, and that knowledge will accompany me into hell." He wiped a tear from his cheek.
Forgive me, Mommy, I thought, but at this
moment I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, too.
"Let me get some rest, Tony. Drake's coming this afternoon to get the list of things I want from Winnerrow, isn't he?"
"Yes."
He got up and came around my chair. I heard him take a deep breath and sigh. Then he began wheeling me out of the suite, out of the past and back into the present.
Tony sent Mrs. Broadfield up immediately after he brought me back to my room, and she helped me get back into my bed.
"I'll be right back," she said after I was settled in, "and we'll begin your therapy."
"I don't want to do therapy today," I replied.
"Of course you do. You can't skip a day. We have to develop a rhythm that your body will learn and depend upon," she lectured. "Now rest a few moments and return for our exercises. Your legs must be massaged, the blood made to circulate through your muscles. You don't want your legs to rot and fall off, do you?" she asked, smiling again, this time like some wicked witch. She pivoted about and walked out before I could respond, but that grotesque image remained with me.
I was like putty in her hands when she returned.
All the while i waited for her, I thought about my mother discovering Tony had bribed her father to stay away from her wedding and stay away from her. I recalled how her eyes would become sad and distant whenever she talked about Luke. How sad it was that she had been denied the opportunity to have one more talk with him so they could forgive each other.
Yet the fault wasn't solely Tony's, I thought.
Luke had agreed to the terms. He had been willing to reject my mother to own his precious circus. When my mother discovered the truth, that fact must have occurred to her and made it even more painful to bear.
I could understand why she would be furious. Since Luke was no longer alive, she had to turn all that fury solely on Tony.
However, when I pictured Tony the way he had described himself—alone in this great house, regretting what he had done and unable to gain my mother's forgiveness, I couldn't help but pity him as well.
Perhaps if Mother had seen him now, she would have softened. She was too compassionate and caring a person to turn her back on so troubled a soul.
No, I decided, I wouldn't demand to be taken from Farthinggale Manor. I was providing Tony with a way to work out his repentance. To leave would be to punish him even more, perhaps even to drive him to the same sort of fatal choice his brother Troy had made.
All these thoughts ran through my mind as Mrs.
Broadfield kneaded my thighs and massaged my calf muscles. The stinging sensations returned even more sharply, but I didn't tell her. I would wait for the doctor, I thought.
She lifted and turned me this way and that.
When I looked down, I saw her strong hands squeeze and rub my flesh until the pale white skin turned crimson, and when her fingers reached my buttocks when she had me turned on my stomach, I felt them . .
. not accompanied by pain, either. I just felt them. The pressure was even annoying.
"I feel your fingers and there is no pain, Mrs.
Broadfield."
"Really?" She continued, pressing even harder.
"Yes, isn't that important?"
"Could be. I'll put it in my report." She rubbed on and on.
"Isn't it enough yet?" I finally asked.
She snapped back as if I had slapped her, and she immediately pulled my nightgown down so it covered me to the tops of my ankles. Her face was red from the effort she had expended and her eyes were as small as a rodent's. Just at that moment we heard voices in the hallway.
Drake and Tony were approaching. I hurriedly covered myself and lay back to greet them. Drake beamed when he set eyes on me. I returned his smile, but mine was short and thin. Luke would have noticed something was bothering me, I thought. Drake looked right through the clues.
"Hi, Annie." He kissed my cheek. Tony remained back by the foot of the bed. "I came for your list. Should I have brought a truck?" He laughed and turned to Tony, who was completely restored to his usual distinguished self.
"I don't want that much, Drake. I'm not going to be here forever," I said. I saw Tony wince, but Drake nodded emphatically.
"Of course. Good thinking, positive thinking."
"I'll be downstairs," Tony said suddenly. "You two visit awhile."
"I won't be long," Drake responded. "Have to get under way."
"This is the list, Drake." I pulled it out from under one of my pillows. I had kept it there because every once in a while something else would occur to me and I didn't want to have to bother Mrs. Broadfield with endless requests for a pen and the paper.
"Mrs. Avery will help you find everything," I told him. He nodded, still studying the list.
"Both charm bracelets? That's all the jewelry you want?"
"I have no use for anything else, Drake. Where am I going?"
"Oh, you might get to the point where you dress up for something. I don't know. Whatever. If I see anything else I think you might want, I'll grab it," he said, folding the paper and shoving it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Finally he saw the troubled look in my eyes. "Something's wrong, isn't it, Annie?"
"Oh, Drake," I started to cry.
"Annie, oh Annie." He sat on the bed and embraced me as best he could. "What is it? Did you find out about Luke?"
"Luke?" I swallowed my lump quickly. "What about Luke? Drake . . . tell me." My heart began to pound.
"Well, I was going to tell you, just so you wouldn't worry about why he hasn't called or contacted you yet, but—"
"What!" A knot of terror formed in the pit of my stomach.
"Easy, Annie. Nothing bad has happened to him. After I saw you yesterday, I thought I would go to Harvard and find out what he's been doing. It took me a while to locate him. I found him in the dormitory lounge . . head to head with a coed." He shifted his eyes away so I couldn't read the rest of his thoughts.
"What do you mean, Drake? I don't
understand." I couldn't fight the faintness that took hold of me. It was hard to speak, but I didn't want Drake to see just how hard it was.
"He found a girlfriend, rather quickly, I know, and he was quite involved with her."
"A girlfriend? But didn't he ask about me?" I asked hopefully. It was almost a prayer.
"Oh yes, and then he promised to call Tony today. I asked him about it as we came up the stairway on the way up to you, but . . Luke hasn't called yet. I suppose he will later. For a moment there," he added, looking toward the doorway, "I thought Tony might have sent someone to Harvard to locate Luke for you, and whoever went brought back the same information, which Tony then brought to you."
"No." I turned away. My heart felt like a chunk of cement. Luke, distracted by a new girl, forgot about me? I had lost Daddy and Mommy and now . . now I was about to lose Luke, too? This couldn't be happening; it couldn't be true. If Luke was distracted, it was only because I was sick and away from him, I thought. Once I recuperated, regained my strength and returned, he would lose interest in this coed. No one he met could share with him the things I did. As soon as I walked into a room and he set eyes on me again, our lives would be as they were. I prayed they would.
I was determined they would.
"I know what you're thinking, Annie, but you don't understand how exciting it can be for someone like Luke, who has been stuck in a one-horse town all his life, to suddenly come to a place like Harvard and meet different, far more sophisticated people. He got swept of his feet, just like anyone could. You can't blame him for it," Drake added.
I nodded. "I know. I just . . just miss him." I couldn't tell Drake the way I really felt, and I didn't want him to set- it in my eyes.
"Well, if he doesn't call or appear soon, drag him here myself."
"Oh no, Drake. He must come
here on his own, because he wants to, not because he has to. I won't be thought of as some obligation!" That would be the most terrible thing of all, I thought. I'd feel like some burden to him, instead of someone he loved and wanted to be with.
"Of course. I'm sorry," Drake said. He looked away.
"Poor Drake. I didn't mean to shout at you just now. I'm sorry." It seemed Drake was all that was left of my family now . . . Drake and Tony Tatterton.
"Oh, that's all right. But tell me now, Annie.
Why did you look so troubled before, if it wasn't because of Luke?"
"Help me sit up, Drake," I said. He got my seat pillow and fixed it so I could be comfortable. Then he sat beside me on the bed again. "Drake, I forced Tony to tell me why he and Mommy had their falling out."
Drake nodded, his eyes unmoving, but a slight smile on his lips.
"I knew you would . . . somehow. Can't hold you down, Annie. You're too much like your mother.
Well? What terrible skeleton did you drag out of the closets of Farthy?"
I told him all of it, trying to be fair to Tony by explaining his reasons as he had explained them to me. As I spoke, Drake's face grew gray. Shadows, deep and dark, settled around his eyes. When I was finished, he turned away and remained silent for a long moment.
"Of course," he began, "I don't remember my father all that well. I was only five when he and my mother were killed, but I remember I had this beautiful fire engine, a Tatterton Toy that Heaven had given me, and whenever my father saw me playing with it, he always looked sad.
'You know who gave you that?' he would ask.
"Heaven,' I'd say. Of course, I forgot who she was or what she looked like, but the name stuck with me because he would always reply, 'Yes, Heaven, your sister.' And then he'd smile. There's no question that Tony did a terrible thing, but you are right to point out that my father bears half of the blame for sacrificing his daughter so he could own a circus.
"I think the time has come to forgive Tony, Annie. I loved Heaven almost as much as you did, and I don't think she would hate us for it."
Hot tears burned down my cheeks. All I could do was nod. He wiped away my tears and hugged me.
"Now then," he said, standing up quickly. "I'd better get on my way. I want to return by late tomorrow. I'll bring everything directly to you."
"Please give Mrs. Avery and Roland and Gerald my regards, and Drake . . promise me you won't have any bad words with Aunt Fanny. Promise me, Drake."
"All right, I promise. I'll just pretend she's not there, if she is."
"And tell her it's all right for her to come to visit me at Farthy,"
"Sure." He smirked.
"And you're not to say anything nasty to Luke."
"Aye aye, commander." He performed a mock salute.
"Please be careful, Drake."
"I will, Annie. We haven't got much more than each other anymore."
"Oh, Drake."
He hugged me and then he left. Although the doors were open, it was as if he had shut them and I was locked away. The silence that followed his footsteps was heavy and oppressive. Chilled, I pulled my blanket up around my neck and stared up at the high ceiling.
Luke with another girl, I thought, and even though I tried to keep the images away, I couldn't. I saw him with some beautiful college girl, sitting in the cafeteria, talking. I saw him walking hand in hand over the campus, and I saw him kiss her, hold her the way I had always dreamt he would hold me.
Everything was slipping away, everything I loved. All the world I had known and loved seemed consumed in fires of pain and tragedy. Everything, even my precious magnolia trees, were charred. I was like a small bird, exhausted from a long flight, searching desperately for a safe place on which to alight. But all the branches were burned.
I closed my eyes and dreamed of Daddy, his arms outstretched, waiting to receive me. But when he embraced me, his arms were made of air.
"No! No!" I screamed. I woke up screaming.
Tony was at my side.
""11 had a terrible nightmare," I said, expecting he would want me to describe it.
"It's understandable, Annie." He sat on my bed and leaned over to stroke my hair. "After all you've been through, but when you awaken, you will be here, safe with me.
"Anyway," he said, continuing to stroke my hair lovingly, "soon the world will be brighter and happier for you. I have great plans for you. There are so many wonderful things I Want to do, changes I want to make. This place is going to come back to life and you will be the center of it. Like a princess," he added, and I couldn't help but think about Luke and our fantasies. The memory brought a smile to my face, a smile Tony assumed he had put there.”
"See, you're feeling better already. Now," he added, leaning over to the night table to get one of my sedatives. "Mrs. Broadfield says you have to take one of these." He handed me the pill and poured me some water. I took it obediently. After he placed the glass back on the table, he leaned over to kiss me on the forehead. "Just close your eyes again and try to remain calm until sleep takes over." He stood up.
"Sleep is a kind of medicine all to itself, you know,"
he explained, obviously speaking from personal experience. "Talk to you later. You all right now?"
"Yes, Tony."
"Good."
I watched him leave. Maybe it was a short time later, Or maybe it was in the middle of the night—I couldn't tell anymore because the sedative had confused me and jumbled up my awareness of time and place—but whenever it was, I thought I opened my eyes and saw a dark, thin, shadowy figure in my doorway.
He approached my bed, but for some reason I wasn't afraid. I felt him stroke my hair gently and then lean over and kiss my forehead. It made me feel safe, and I closed my eyes. I didn't open them again until I was awoken by the sound of Dr. Malisoff's voice.
FIFTEEN
Like Mommy
.
God morning, Annie. How do you feel?" Dr.
Malisoff sat on the bed and Tony hovered a few steps behind him, looking like at expectant father, nervously rocking on his feet, his hands clasped behind his back. Mrs. Broadfield rushed in from the sitting room to bring the doctor a blood-pressure gauge. I struggled to sit up. I had slept deeply, but I didn't feel refreshed, and m y lower back was stiff.
"A little tired," I confessed. Truly I felt exhausted, wrung out, but I also wanted the doctor to allow a phone and visitors.
"Uh-huh." He wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around my arm. "Has she been eating well, Mrs.
Broadfield?" he asked without taking his doctor's eyes of me. They looked like little microscopes turned on csy face.
"Not as well as I would like her to eat, no, Doctor," Mrs. Broadfield replied like one schoolgirl tattling on another.
The doctor put on a face of reprimand and
shook his head.
"I haven't had that much of an appetite yet," I offered in my defense.
"I know, but you've got to force yourself to keep up your strength for the fight . . . Are you relaxing, Annie? You don't look relaxed." I glanced quickly at Tony, who shifted his eyes away guiltily.
"I'm doing my best."
"She hasn't been having visitors and such, has she?" Dr. Malisoff asked Mrs. Broadfield.
"I've tried to keep her quiet," she said without really answering. Why did she take everything so personally? I wondered. Was she afraid she would be fired as quickly as Millie was?
"I see." The doctor examined my legs, tested my reflexes and feelings, looked into my eyes with a small lighted instrument, and then shook his head. "I want to see more progress the next time I visit, Annie.
I want you to concentrate more on your recuperation."
"But I am!" I protested. "What else can I do? I have no telephone. All I can do is watch television and read. Only Tony and Drake and Rye Whiskey, the cook, have come to see me." I couldn't keep the shrill sound out of my voice.
"I realize you're in a highly emotional state,"
the doctor said softly, obviously trying to keep me calm, "but the reason you were brought to this house was so you would have a serene environment, conducive to improvement."
"But what have I done that I shouldn't?"
"It's mental attitude that we need now, Annie.
The therapy, the medicine, none of it will work unless you want it to work. Think health; think about walking again, concentrate only on that and give Mrs.
Broadfield one hundred percent cooperation, okay?"
I nodded, and he smiled, his reddish-brown mustache curling up at the corners. I didn't tell him about the pain and feeling I had experienced in my legs because there was something very important to be done before I could even think about myself.
"Doctor . . " I lifted my upper body by pressing my hands down on the bed. "I want to be taken to my parents' grave site. I'm strong enough to go, and I can't concentrate on getting better until I do." I didn't mean to sound stubborn and petulant, but I believed it was true.
He eyed me thoughtfully a moment and then
looked at Tony. I saw the way their eyes read each other's and saw the slight nod in the doctor's head.
"All right," he said. "One more day of rest and then Mr. Tatterton will make the arrangements, but I want you to be brought right back here and given a sedative," he said after glancing at Tony again.
"Thank you, Doctor."
"And try to eat. You'd be surprised at how much energy a healing body needs."
"I'll try."
"By this time next week, Annie, I want to see those toes moving and I want you giggling when I tickle your feet, understand?" He waved his long right forefinger at me like a parent chastising a child.
"Yes." I smiled and lay back. He nodded and then started out, Mrs. Broadfield and Tony flanking him as he left. I heard the three of them whispering about me outside the bedroom door. They were in conference so long, I thought they might be thinking of returning me to the hospital. Tony was the first to return. He came directly to the side of the bed and took my hand into his. Then he shook his head.
Gates of Paradise (Casteel Series #4) Page 19