She stepped back and considered me. "I guess ya changed a lil" Annie. Grew in some ways 'cause of this tragedy and all that followed. Maybe ya learned things I neva learned 'bout people. Granny used ta say hard times kin wise ya up plenty. Know they did that fer Heaven. She was a lot smarter than me.
"Oh, I had hard times, too, but I was always feelin' sorry fer maself, so I didn't have time ta learn nothin'." She shook her head.
"Well, here I am jawin' away like Luke. Must run in the family. Let's tend ta ya bathroom needs and get ya dressed."
Mrs. Avery came in to help, too. The way she and Aunt Fanny fussed over me surely made me feel at home again. What a difference between their loving hands and soothing words and Mrs. Broadfield's coldly efficient and mechanical ways. All the money and elaborate medical attention in the world couldn't rival tender loving care. I should have known that from the start, and when Tony offered to get me the best doctors and the best medical care money could buy, I should have simply asked to go home.
In a short time I was bathed and dressed and Luke returned to help bring me downstairs.
"Ready?" he asked. Both Mrs. Avery and Aunt Fanny turned to me in anticipation. Would I back out and ask to have my meals brought up, or would I face the world without Mommy and Daddy? I turned to Luke. His eyes were full of determination for me. I knew he would be at my side.
"Yes," I said. "I'm ready."
And Luke moved forward quickly. He put his hand over mine and got behind the wheelchair.
"It's going to be all right," he whispered, and when Aunt Fanny and Mrs. Avery turned their backs to us, he kissed me on the cheek quickly.
TWENTY-TWO
By Love Blessed, or Cursed
.
As soon as we entered the dining room, my
eyes shifted to my father's and mother's places. The empty seats stared back at me, and my heart folded in and shut itself away like a clam. For a moment no one spoke; everyone, including Luke, gazed down at me with faces soaked in pity.
And then everyone started talking at once .
Aunt Fanny giving orders, Mrs. Avery complaining about this or that, Roland slapping his hands together and promising the best breakfast in Winnerrow. Even George, usually quieter than a storefront Indian, asked unnecessary questions like should he get another napkin holder? Was that the right pitcher for the juice?
"Everyone, please," I cried, "let's just enjoy the breakfast. It's not so important that everything be perfect. It's wonderful just to be back here with you all. I love you and missed you all very much."
They all looked down at me again, this time their faces full of love and affection.
"Well, then, let's eat," Aunt Fanny declared,
"fore it all gets colder than a spinster's bed."
"Oh my," Mrs. Avery said, pressing the palms of her hands against her bosom, and we all broke out into laughter and set ourselves around the table to begin.
"I made ya an appointment at the beauty parlor first thing this mornin'," Aunt Fanny announced.
"Well," Luke beamed. "It's a beautiful day.
Why don't I wheel you down there."
"I'd like that."
Breakfast was cheerful. I couldn't remember ever eating as much, but Roland kept coming out of the kitchen with something else for me to try.
Right after breakfast Luke wheeled me slowly toward downtown Winnerrow, taking the same route we had taken all our lives: past the magnolia trees that lined the street, past the houses and other families I knew so well. It was a beautiful day, one of those rare late summer days when the sun was bright, the sky was crystal blue, and the air wasn't uncomfortably hot because a soft, cool breeze wafted down from the Willies. People waved from their porches; some came out to say hello and to express their sorrow over my parents' deaths.
"I feel a hundred years old and like I've been away seventy-five of them," I told Luke.
"Funny how different it looks once you go away and come back," Luke remarked. "I never realized just how small our Main Street really is.
When I was little, it was as grand and as bright as Times Square, New York City, to me."
"Disappointed?"
"No. I rather like it. I think I'd like to come back here to settle down someday. What about you?"
"I suppose. First, I'd like to travel and see the world."
"Oh sure, me, too."
"Maybe your wife won't want to live in such a small town, Luke," I said, testing him with the painful reality I would wish to deny forever. But we were half brother and sister. Someday we would have to find someone else to love. Once Luke returned to college, I would have to face the fact once again that he wasn't always going to be here with me.
A pained look claimed his face. He squinted and wrinkled his forehead.
"She will if she wants to be my wife," he said angrily, despising the wife who wasn't me. He was so handsome and dangerous-looking when he lost his temper. Instead of turning crimson, his skin darkened and his eyes grew dazzling. "Besides, your mother returned to Winnerrow after living in a very rich and sophisticated world. If it was good enough for someone like her . . ."
I didn't want to tell him then what her real reasons were for returning.
"She was brought up here and she was coming back to a wonderful old house and a huge new business enteeprise. But off in a college like Harvard, you're going to meet girls who come from cities and towns much larger and livelier than Winnerrow. They might think it's quaint, but they'll want to be where they can go shopping in fine, expensive stores, eat in fancy restaurants, and see theater and opera and other glamorous things." I hated to say these things, but I wanted him to confront the inevitable with me.
"I'm not interested in those kinds of girls," he snapped. "Besides, the same can happen to you. You'll meet a man who will want to take you away from here, a man who will be bored with this simple life."
"I know that, Luke," I said softly. It was so painful to think these thoughts, much less to say them aloud, but keeping them locked in our hearts was even more painful. It was one thing to fantasize and pretend, but it was another to lie to yourself. My short, horrible, painful and tormenting stay at Farthy taught me that.
"I know what," he chirped, suddenly looking bright and happy again. "Let the girl you think I'm going to marry and the man I think you're going to marry, marry each other. Then they'll be happy."
I laughed and shook my head. Luke wasn't
ready to face the truth. Perhaps he felt he had to go on protecting me, that I was still too fragile.
"But Luke, what will happen to us then?"
"Us? You'll . . you'll stay a spinster and stay a bachelor and we'll grow old together in Hasbrouck House."
"But could we be happy that way, Luke?" I asked, wondering myself if we could.
"As long as I'm with you, Annie, I'm happy," he insisted.
"I feel as if I'm holding you back from a normal life, Luke."
"Don't ever say that," he pleaded. He stopped pushing my wheelchair. I looked back and saw the pain return to his eyes. He scowled like a little boy who was being teased and teased by older boys and was frustrated because there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"Okay. I'm sorry," I apologized, but he still looked as though he might cry. He shook his head.
"I mean it, Annie. I couldn't marry anyone unless she was just like you. And . . ." he added slowly, "there can't be anyone just like you."
He gazed at me so intently I felt my pulse begin to race. I quickly became aware that passersby and people in cars were looking our way.
"Well, when you find someone close, send her around and I'll give her lessons," I said, trying to lighten things up. But in my heart I couldn't help being selfish, wanting our lives to turn out just the way Luke predicted . neither of us finding anyone else and the two of us being together, forever and ever, being close and loving, even if we could never have what other lovers had—a marriage and children of their own.
We continued on t
oward the beauty parlor.
They must have been waiting by the windows, watching for us, because just before we arrived, the owner, Dorothy Wilson, and her two assistants came rushing out to greet me.
"We'll take her out of your hands now, Luke,"
Dorothy commanded, getting behind the wheelchair.
All three of them fussed over me. While they worked on my hair, they gave me a pedicure and manicure and jabbered away, filling me in on all the local gossip. Luke went off to see some of his old friends and returned only moments after I was finished.
The girls didn't simply want to change my hair color; they talked me into a French braid as well. The sides of my hair were pulled back tightly and the back of my hair was woven into a thick rope of a braid.
When Luke first stepped in and saw me, I could see that he liked it very much. His eyes widened and there was that smile that rippled slowly up his cheeks and settled around his eyes, that special smile I could remember on wonderful occasions like the time he gave me the charm bracelet and I gave him the ring.
"How do I look?"
"You're so very beautiful," he blurted. He looked at Dorothy and blushed because of how enthusiastically he had responded. "I mean . . . you look so much better in your own hair color.
Everyone's going to agree, I'm sure. Well," he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "we had better get back before my mother sends Gerald looking for us and he gets lost."
"You really like it?" I asked him as we started for Hasbrouck House.
"Very much. It makes you look like your old self again."
"I do feel so much better since I came home, Luke. I feel like I'm coming back to life after a long, long sleep. I want to try to walk again, Luke. When we get back, fetch the walker and see if I've become any stronger or if it's all just in my imagination." My enthusiasm made him smile.
"Sure. Where do you want to try?" He slowed me down and I looked back at him. I didn't have to explain. Our eyes did all the talking. He nodded and we continued on.
When we reached the house, Luke went inside and came out carrying the walker. Then he pushed me down the path that ran around the side. He stopped at the steps of the gazebo and came up beside me to take my hand as we both stared up at it.
"First, I'll carry you up and set you on the bench."
"Okay." I could barely utter the sound; I was so happy to be here again with Luke.
He lifted me gently into his arms. I cupped my left arm around his neck and our cheeks touched.
Then, carefully, slowly, he carried me up the steps of our gazebo and lowered me to the bench. He squatted before me, still holding my hand and looking up at me. I sat back and looked around.
"You're right about going away and coming back. Somehow it looks smaller, older."
"But we're both here again, together. Just close your eyes and remember it the way it was for us and wish and it will be that way again. I know it will. You know, I came here the day my mother and I returned from Boston after seeing you in the hospital."
"You did?" I looked down into his eyes, eyes that fixed so tightly on my own. It was as if we could see the deepest part of one another, go beyond our bodies and even our minds to press our souls together.
He made me believe that we did share something special, something magical, something only we could know and touch.
"Yes. I sat here and closed my eyes and when I opened them, I saw you sitting across from me, laughing, your hair dancing in the breeze. You spoke to me."
"What did I say?" My voice was barely above a whisper.
"You said, 'Don't be sad, Luke. I'll get better and stronger and return to Winnerrow.' I had to close my eyes to see you, and when I opened them, something magical did happen, Annie."
"What?"
"I found this lying on the gazebo floor." He reached into his pants pocket and brought out a strand of pink satin ribbon I had used to tie my hair. "Oh, I know people would say it was always here, maybe hidden under the railing and finally blown out by the wind, but I didn't see it until I opened my eyes again."
"Oh, Luke." I took the ribbon into my hand. "It doesn't even look faded."
"I kept it with me, went to sleep with it at night.
My roommate must have thought I was some kind of weirdo, but I didn't care. As long as I had it, I felt close to you. So you see, there is something magical here."
Magical, I thought. If love is magic, then this is magical. Oh, I knew it was wrong; I knew a young man and a young woman so closely related shouldn't be thinking of each other this way, shouldn't be looking at each other and wanting each other this way, but neither of us seemed able to stop it. Should we just confront it openly, declare our feelings freely and fully? Or should we go on pretending that we were only close friends as well as half brother and sister?
Would that end the longing I felt for him?
Would it quell the racing of my heart everytime he touched me? Would I stop dreaming and fantasizing about him? If love was truly magical, then we were blessed, or cursed, by its spell.
Blessed because whenever I was with Luke, I felt alive; I felt like a woman should feel. Cursed because it was a torment to want and to need someone you were forbidden to fully love.
Perhaps it was better not to be touched by such magic.
"I want to be close to you, Luke," I whispered,
"but—"
"I know," he said, putting his finger on my lips to lock in the words we both feared. He took his finger away and leaned toward me. My heart was thumping, my breath quickened.
"Luke . ." I murmured, and he stopped, got hold of himself, and sat back quickly. He looked flustered for a moment and then he stood up.
"I'll get the walker. You're going to walk again without difficulty. You'll do it for us," he added, putting a higher value on my efforts. I grasped out quickly for his hand to make him pause.
"Luke, don't expect too much. I've just begun to feel my legs again."
He simply smiled down at me as if he knew
things I didn't. I clutched the old pink ribbon to my breast and waited for him to unfold the walker and set it up in front of me. Then he stood back, crossing his arms just under his chest.
I reached up and took hold of the top of the walker. Then I pulled and pressed until my body began to lift from the bench. My legs wobbled but gradually straightened until I was in a standing position. My arms trembled. Luke looked concerned and took a step toward me.
"No. Just stay back. I've got to do it all myself."
A large cloud blocked out the sun and a shadow dropped over the gazebo like a great, dark curtain, shutting out the surrounding world. Even though it was warm, a chill traveled up the backs of my legs and into my spine. I struggled to get my back straighter and straighter and then I concentrated on moving my right foot forward. I felt the grimace of effort in my face as my lips tightened.
"Walk, Annie, walk," Luke urged.
I inched my foot forward with all my will until it completed a step. My heart pounded with joy and optimism and then I started my left leg. It was like reaching for something just an inch or two beyond you, like the gold ring on a merry-go-round, but stretching yourself and struggling until you went beyond the limits of space and strength and the tips of your fingers first grazed the gold ring and then seized it. My left foot found a step. The wheels of the walker turned. I opened my eyes. The cloud moved on and the sunlight lifted the curtain from the gazebo. I felt as if a great weight had been taken away from me, freeing me, ripping off the bindings around my knees and ankles. My legs seemed so much stronger, so much more themselves.
I smiled and moved my right foot again, this time farther. My left followed suit. The walker's wheels turned more. Each succeeding step was faster and longer. My back straightened even more, until I felt I was truly standing on my own power.
I was doing it!
"I'm standing, Luke! I'm standing! It's not just the walker!"
"Oh, Annie, I knew you would!"
I grew very serious and lifted my right hand from the walker.
"Wait, Annie. Not too much in one day."
"No, Luke. I can do it. I must do it!"
He started toward me, but I put my hand up.
"Don't help me."
"If you fall, my mother will shoot me."
"I won't fall."
Using only my left hand now, I moved the
walker ahead so that I was nearly independent of it.
When the walker was far enough from me, I
straightened completely and then lifted my left hand from it.
I was standing on my own! Completely on my own! My legs were strong enough to hold me up again.
Luke held out his hands, only half a foot or so from. me.
"Annie."
I closed my eyes and then opened them quickly.
I was still clutching the pink ribbon in my left hand.
Without further hesitation, I lifted my right foot and shuffled it forward a few inches and then followed with my left. Luke's face broke out into a wide, wonderful smile, and so did mine. I took a longer step and then another before my legs gave out with the effort, but before I had a chance to sink to the floor, Luke's arms were around my waist and he was holding me tightly to him and kissing my cheek.
"Annie, you did it! You did it!"
I was so happy I started kissing his face, too.
And then suddenly our lips met. The encounter was so quick and unexpected, neither of us pulled back before our lips pressed passionately together.
Luke lifted his face from mine first.
"Annie . . I . . ." He looked so guilty. We had passed through that veil between us, crossed that border, violated the prohibition.
"It's all right. I'm happy we kissed," I asserted.
He still held me tightly to him.
And then we both spun around at the sound of Drake's voice.
“Annie!" he screamed. His eyes were wide with shock and anger. I reached back to clutch the walker and pull myself from Luke's embrace. Drake ran up to the gazebo, his shoulders rising along with the fury in his face. He turned on Luke.
Gates of Paradise (Casteel Series #4) Page 34