"I just want it washed and set," I said.
"Pardonnez-moi?" He looked at Tony. "But I thought . . . the color."
"Renee's an expert, Annie. Get his opinion first."
"You would brighten your face beaucoup, mademoiselle," he said, stepping back to consider me again. "Not difficult." He nodded, convincing himself.
"Just put yourself in my hands, mademoiselle." He held out his palms as if I could see something unusual in his soft, thin fingers.
I glanced at myself in the wall mirror on the right. Maybe I should turn myself over to this so-called beauty expert, I thought.
"Very well, do what you think has to be done."
"Tres bien." He rubbed his hands together. Tony was beaming. I closed my eyes and lay back in the chair as he wheeled me to the sink and his beauty expert began his work.
Looking into the mirror, I saw Mommy's face instead of my own. The change in hair color had done something magical, turned me into the face that gazed up at me from all those old pictures. It was as if the beautician had been some kind of conjurer, sending me back in time, doing what I knew Tony wished would happen—roll back years to the days when he was the happiest here at Farthy. There was a new look in my face. Renee had turned my hair silvery blond and had trimmed and set it so i looked just like Mommy had in that picture of her at the stables. In fact, Tony had given him the picture to work from before he left us.
I wondered how Luke would react. He had seen the old pictures of Mommy and he always told me he thought she was a dazzling beauty. Would he feel the same way when he first set eyes on me? Afterward, when we were alone, would he take my hand into his and whisper his true feelings. In my warm and loving imagination, I heard his words.
"Annie, when I first set eyes on you with your hair your mother's color, I knew that no matter how forbidden it was, I had to tell you my true feelings, let you know about my deep love for you. Oh, Annie, I can't deny it. I can't!"
I played those wished-for words over and over in my mind and then opened my eyes and gazed at myself in the mirror again. If changing my hair color could only do all that . .
"Annie, is that you?" Drake came into the bedroom carrying two suitcases filled with my clothing and shoes. He put them down at the Coot of the bed and stared at me, a half smile on his face. I put down the hand mirror and studied his face closely for his truthful reaction.
"Do I look silly?"
"No, not silly, just . . . different. You remind me of someone."
"My mother. When she first fetched you," I prompted.
"Yes." His eyes lit up with the realization.
"Yes," he repeated excitedly. "Exactly. Hey, you look very good." As if he finally convinced himself I was still me, he jerked forward and came over to kiss me hello. "Really. I like it."
"I don't know. I feel . . . so different. Yet I can't believe Mommy was all that comfortable in this hair color. It's as if I'm pretending to be someone I'm not.
Surely, she must have felt the same way."
Drake shrugged.
"She changed back soon after she and Logan returned to Winnerrow and bought Hasbrouck House.
Maybe you're right."
"Tony has me convinced feel more like a young woman again. I was getting depressed about myself. But enough about me. Tell me about your trip to Winnerrow. Who did you meet? What did the servants say? How was the house and Aunt Fanny?"
"Whoa . . . slow down." He laughed. I bit down on my lip to keep myself quiet and sat back impatiently. "Now, let's see . . . Winnerrow." He pretended he was trying to remember.
"Oh, don't tease me, Drake. You don't know how it's been being shut up like this."
His impish smile evaporated instantly and his eyes became soft and caring.
"Poor Annie. I am being cruel. I promise I will get myself back here more often to take you out and about. But, about Winnerrow. As soon as I entered the house the servants nearly ran me over rushing to find out about you. Mrs. Avery was in tears immediately, of course; even Roland looked on the verge of bawling. Gerald was the only one who kept a stiff upper lip, but that's because . ."
"His upper lip is stiff," I recited along with him.
It was a joke we made behind Gerald's back.
"Oh, I miss them . . . all of them."
"I saw some of your school friends at the drugstore. They were all anxious to hear about you, and all send their love."
"And Aunt Fanny? What about Aunt Fanny?"
"Well . " He shook his head. "She was weird. I found her sitting out back reading. Yes, reading. And she was dressed kind of conservatively in this long-sleeve, white cotton blouse and long, flowing skirt.
She had her hair brushed down and pinned back. I actually didn't recognize her and asked Gerald who was that sitting on the gazebo."
"The gazebo!"
"Reading? What?"
"Get this—Emily Post. When I approached, she looked up and said, 'Oh, Drake, how wonderful ta see ya.' She held out her hand and wouldn't let go of mine until I kissed her on the cheek hello. I think it was the first time I ever kissed her. I actually had a half-intelligent conversation with her. Your mother and father's death has had a dramatic effect on her. She is determined to better herself, she says, to—how did she put it?-.--to be a credit to Heaven's memory. Can you imagine? I have to give her some points, though.
The house was immaculate, and from what the servants told me, she hasn't been fooling around with any of her young boyfriends. In fact, she's been living like a nun."
“Did she ask about me?"
"Of course."
"Is she coming to see me?"
"She wanted to, but I was afraid to say anything until Tony tells me the doctor says it's all right."
"But she's my aunt. I can't be kept like a prisoner in solitary confinement!" I pleaded, perhaps too emphatically. Poor Drake looked absolutely devastated by my outburst. "I'm sorry, Drake. It's not your fault. You did only what you thought was right, I'm sure."
"It can't be much longer, anyway, Annie. You look so much better already. Now that I'm a little more used to it, I think that hairdo does suit you.
When I first came through that door, I thought Tony had put some movie starlet in this room while I was gone."
"Oh, Drake."
"No, you look a lot better than you did when I left. I mean it."
"I hope you're right, Drake." I looked down and then remembered tomorrow's service. "Did you speak to Tony before you came up here? Did he tell you about the service?"
"Yes, of course. be right at your side."
"And Luke? Has Luke called yet?" I asked hopefully.
"You mean, he still hasn't called?" Drake shook his head. "He told Fanny he was going to call. The selfish little—"
"Oh, Drake, I can't believe that of Luke. Please call him yourself. Tony called the dorm and left word and instructions about the service tomorrow, but be sure Luke gets the message, will you? Maybe someone at the dorm is pulling a prank on him and hiding his messages," I added desperately. What if what Drake was suggesting were true? People change when they leave home, I thought. Maybe all the pressures and hardships of his life in Winnerrow had finally taken hold and he had decided to throw off all connections with that life, including me!
Oh God no, I prayed. The world couldn't be that cruel.
"Sure. try to get ahold of him later. Well," he said, getting up and going to the suitcases, "here are the things you wanted."
"I don't have a maid anymore to help put them away. Tony fired Millie."
"I heard. No problem. I'll hang everything up for you." He fixed a section in the closet for my things. "Look at all this. These things were all Heaven's?"
"And my grandmother Leigh's. Tony hasn't thrown out a thing."
"Some of it still looks new."
"I know. I'm wearing one of my mother's dresses tomorrow—that black one Florence
Farthinggale left hanging in the corner."
"Florence Farthinggale?" He laughe
d. "That's very funny. I gather you two are not forming what we could call a warm patient-nurse relationship?"
"As long as I behave like a lump of clay, we get along fine," I said sarcastically, and he laughed again.
"Anyway, that's the dress Tony chose."
"Don't say?" He gazed at it quickly and then finished hanging up my garments. After he was finished, he returned to the bed and sat beside me. He dug into his pockets and took out the two charm bracelets. "Here they are."
"Oh, thank you, Drake."
"Now how are you going to wear them, both on one wrist?"
"I'll alternate days. The days Luke comes, wear his," I said and ran the tip of my fingers over it softly, lovingly, as though I were running them over Luke's cheek.
"Always the little diplomat." Drake smiled. "It's all right; I don't mind," he said, and then he fixed his eyes on me more intensely than ever. "When I look at you now, I do see Heaven. I see the warm, loving face that was pressed against mine when I was small and afraid, lonely and lost. I see the love in those blue eyes that gave me comfort just when I needed comfort most in my life. I never told you how good I feel when I'm with you, Annie."
"I'll always be your friend, Drake. After all, I'm your niece." Reminding him of our relationship made him wince.
"I know." He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, lingering there the way Tony often did.
Then he straightened up.
"Well, I better be going. I have to catch up on some business at the office so that I can take most of tomorrow off, too, now." He stood up.
"Drake, don't forget about Luke," I cried.
"Right. Oh, there was one more thing I brought," he said, reaching into his suit jacket's inside pocket. "I thought . . somehow, for some reason, one day you might want to get dressed up here. Who knows, maybe Tony will throw a party for you after you've recuperated enough to leave . . . whatever.
Anyway, I brought this along." He took out the black jewelry case that contained the diamond necklace and matching earrings that had belonged to my great-grandmother Jillian.
"Oh, Drake, you shouldn't have brought that.
It's too valuable."
"So? This place isn't exactly open for grabs, and I knew how much this meant to you. Surely, just having it nearby will bring you some comfort, won't it?" he asked hopefully. I smiled and nodded.
"Yes, I suppose so. I'm sorry. Thank you for thinking of me, Drake. I know I sound selfish and unappreciative sometimes."
"Oh no, Annie, you are the most selfless person I know. When I think of you, I think of . . of someone pure and beautiful, like brilliant candlelight." Once again he looked at me intensely. I could say nothing.
His words brought a lump into my throat and sent my heart thumping. "Well," he finally said, putting the black jewelry case beside me on the bed, "I'd better get on the road. See you right after lunch tomorrow."
"Good night, Drake. And thank you for all you've done."
"Are you kidding, Annie. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. Just remember that."
He blew me a kiss and then left, quickly
assuming the gait of a busy executive with one crisis after another on his mind. I sat back on the pillow chair and looked down at the black jewelry case. Then I opened it and took out the diamond necklace. How it sparkled! The memory of my birthday rose up within Fe and I recalled Mommy's face when she held this necklace out to me. Her eyes were full of such pride and love.
I clutched the necklace to my bosom and
thought I felt its warmth, a warmth handed down from her grandmother to her and from her to me. I didn't realize I was crying until the tears fell from my cheeks and splattered like warm drops of summer rain on my chest and bosom. Swallowing hard, I put the necklace back into the case and closed it. Drake was right. It was comforting to have it nearby.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked at the two charm bracelets on the bed. Then I took the smaller but more precious one to me, and put it on my wrist. The sight of it made me smile.
What had Drake said . Aunt Fanny was on the gazebo? Luke's and my magical place? Those days seemed so long ago now, the fantasy days. Maybe if I were back there, if they put me on the gazebo, I would lean on Luke's arm and I would suddenly walk again.
How the doctor would laugh if I suggested it, but I knew that sometimes a little make-believe can truly be magical. Luke believed it, and when two people believe so strongly in something, it could come true.
Luke. How I needed his comfort, his smile, his optimistic reassurance. More than that, I longed for his lips against my cheek and I remembered each and every time we had kissed, even when we were only small children.
As I thought of him, I embraced myself,
imagining him beside me, his fingers twirling my hair, his eyes so close to mine as we gazed longingly at each other, tormented by our desire and our forbidden love at the same time.
Thinking about him this way warmed my body and made it feel alive again. Surely if visions of Luke loving me had such a wonderful effect, it couldn't be all bad, I reasoned. With Luke at my side, I would overcome this tragedy. Fate had placed those ever-present tall mountains in my path, but I would do as Luke always advised—I would go deliberately for the tall ones.
"Because, Annie," I heard him whisper, "the view is always better. Go for the tall ones." tut now Luke seemed the tallest mountain of all.
I looked up at my empty room. I could hear people talking and moving about downstairs. Drake was saying good-bye to someone. A door was closed.
A gust of wind whistled through some shutters. And then it was quiet again.
Oh, Luke, I thought, what could possibly be your reason for not moving heaven and earth to see me?
SIXTEEN
Crippled!
.
“I have a wonderful surprise for you," Tony announced. By the way he was standing in the doorway, just off to the side, I thought the surprise would surely be Luke's appearance; but it was something else. "You're going to have to come out of your room to see it. It's time to start for the cemetery, anyway."
I turned to Mrs. Broadfield, who was folding the towels she used during my massages. Her face was blank and as unmoving as a mask. Yet, still I sensed that she knew what the surprise was.
"Come out?" He nodded, and I started to wheel myself toward the door. I was wearing my mother's black dress and the charm bracelet Luke had given me. Renee, the hairdresser, returned late in the morning to comb out my hair. Mrs. Broadfield had not reduced my morning therapy because of the service to be held at my parents' monument, but either she was right about my growing tolerance and strength or I was just determined not to be tired because of it.
Tony stepped back, indicating I should keep going glanced at Mrs. Broadfield to see if she would be coming along, too, but she continued to do her work in my room, appearing to be uninterested in anything else. Tony helped me turn to the left and start down the long corridor. Soon I saw Parson, the grounds worker who had set up my television set, and another man, also dressed in coveralls, standing at the top of the stairway. I looked back quizzically at Tony, who was now pushing me along with a Cheshire-cat grin on his face.
And then I saw his surprise.
He had had an elevator chair installed so I could wheel myself to the top of the stairway, slide into the chair, press a button, and have myself lowered slowly down the stairway to the first floor.
"Now it will be very easy to take you up and down the stairway, Tony said. "And very soon, I'm sure, you will be moving yourself from floor to floor.
I'll have a second wheelchair waiting for you below."
I stared at the mechanical device for a moment.
I knew Tony was disappointed in my reaction, but I couldn't help it. Things like this only confirmed my invalid state and suggested that my recuperation was a long way off.
"But Tony," I said, "soon be walking myself!
You've gone through this tremendous expense for noth
ing!"
"Oh, is that what you're worried about? No problem. This is a rental agreement. We use it as long as we need it and no longer. As for the second chair—
I assure you, that's no major expense for me. Now,"
he added, slapping his hands together, "it's time for our first test flight, eh? That is, with you as the passenger.
I've already tried it and it held my weight well, so there won't be any problem with its holding you."
I looked back to see if Mrs. Broadfield was going to assist in this, but she still hadn't come out of my room. From my seated position in the wheelchair, the stairway looked awfully steep and long.
"Just roll yourself alongside the mechanical chair," Tony instructed, "lift the left arm of your chair and slide yourself into it. The idea is for you to be able to do this yourself."
Fear began to swell in me like a great dark symphony booming through my blood. I felt a cold sweat break out over the back of my neck. And I could feel myself falling, tumbling down that great marble staircase, crumpled at the bottom.
Parson and the man beside him watched me
with concerned, sympathetic eyes. I smiled as bravely as I could and began to wheel myself alongside the mechanical chair. I struggled to loosen the arm of my chair. It seemed to stick a bit, but no one offered any help. I imagined this was all part of the test—to see if I could do it all myself. Finally I detached the arm and began pulling myself into the mechanical chair.
"Once you get securely in, miss," the man beside Parson said, "you strap yourself with this safety belt, same way you would in a car."
Just the mention of "car" sent my heart fluttering. My chest tightened so, I thought I wouldn't be able to breathe. Where was Mrs. Broadfield? Why wasn't this important enough for her to be right beside me?
"Oh, Tony, I don't know if I can do this," I wailed.
"Sure you can. Don't you want to be able to go downstairs and wheel yourself into my office?
Gates of Paradise (Casteel Series #4) Page 21