Cloudburst

by V. C. Andrews

  “No, I mean it,” he said firmly. He leaned back and shouted, “Mrs. Caro!”

  She came hurrying into the dining room, wiping her hands on her napkin and looking fearful.

  “You have outdone yourself tonight. I have been through a dozen states and eaten in some of the best restaurants lately, and no one has made a better filet mignon. You marinated this perfectly.”

  “Thank you, Mr. March.”

  “I hope you saved some for yourself and Mrs. Duval,” he added.

  She smiled. “My mum would always say a good cook better check the food he or she makes first,” she replied, and Donald roared.

  Jordan looked at me. Like me, she had expected that his confrontational manner with Ryder Garfield would carry through the evening, but it was as though none of that had happened. I couldn’t recall when he was last this cheerful, in fact. Was it all because of the conversation we had in his office?

  “When is your next concert, Sasha?” he asked.

  “A week from Sunday.”

  “She has a little solo,” Jordan said.

  “Has she? I’m not missing that,” he said. He emptied his wine in a single gulp and poured himself another. “I think it’s time she attended a professional classical concert. The Los Angeles Philharmonic is performing Chopin and Shostakovich next month. I have a contact who’ll get us great seats. Would you like that, Sasha?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Then consider it done.”

  He drank his wine and kept his eyes on me. There was something different in the gleam, something so unexpected that I felt my heart beat faster. It was similar to looks I had seen in the eyes of some of the boys I had dated, looks that raised alarms. At a party, if I had sipped something alcoholic, I immediately stopped, and invitations to go somewhere private were always avoided or rejected. To see something in Donald March that resembled this was even more alarming, because as far as I knew, this was the first time someone as old as he was looked at me with what I could call nothing but lust.

  Perhaps I was overreacting, I thought. I hoped so. Perhaps the wine had clouded his thinking a little. I glanced at Jordan to see if she sensed anything similar in his attention to me, but she was so happy about the change in his mood at dinner and the promises he was making that she wouldn’t see anything like that anyway.

  “Well, we’ll need to shop for a proper new dress for you, Sasha,” she said.

  “Exactly,” Donald agreed. “Get her something that is more adult, something that brings out her maturity, and none of this faddy teenage stuff.”

  Finally, he was treading on Jordan’s hallowed ground and doing something to rile her.

  “I think I know where to take her and what to buy her for such an occasion, Donald.”

  “Oh, right, right,” he said. “If anyone does, you do, Jordan. You can trust her judgment when it comes to things like this,” he told me to emphasize the point. He reached out and patted Jordan’s hand. She smiled again, but I thought he was merely placating her and, in fact, treating her the way he might treat Kiera.

  She didn’t see it that way. She brightened. “This is wonderful,” she said. “We’ll feel more like a family. Maybe Kiera will come home for this concert,” she suggested.

  “She has never shown interest in anything like this before,” Donald said sharply. Then he smiled. “In any case, you had better call her immediately. These are impossible tickets to get. I’m not even sure I can get us three yet.”

  “I thought you just said . . .”

  “I meant I would try to call in a favor.”

  She looked confused. “But . . . you just agreed that I should get Sasha a new dress and—”

  “She would need it anyway,” he said. “There’ll be many other occasions like the concert, I’m sure.” He rose. “I have a couple of things to do before I can relax for the evening. Ladies,” he added with a smile, “please excuse me.”

  He walked out of the dining room. Jordan looked after him and then shrugged.

  “Men,” she said.

  Later, after I went up to my room to start my homework, the phone rang. I was hoping it was Ryder, but it was Kiera.

  “What’s this about a concert? I couldn’t understand my mother. My father was never big on classical music. He wants me to come home for it?”

  I didn’t want to say it wasn’t his idea, it was her mother’s.

  “That’s what was said at dinner.”

  “Maybe he’s going through some midlife crisis. Men can have them at any age. I can tell you this. I’m not going to run home to go to hear a classical symphony concert. They’re buying you a new dress for it?” she asked after a short pause.

  “Yes.”

  “Whose idea was that?” she questioned sharply.

  “Well, your father thought I didn’t have anything appropriate.”

  “He never cared if I had anything appropriate.”

  I was silent.

  “He probably is going through some sort of man’s change of life. Has he seemed very different lately?”

  “I haven’t seen him all that much lately. He’s been so busy.”

  “Um. Well, I certainly wouldn’t leave Richard on a weekend and go sit in a stuffy concert hall. Besides, I’d have to go buy a new dress, and I don’t have the time for it like you do.”

  “Well, I am in the school orchestra and . . .”

  “Oh, let’s stop talking about it. Tell me about Ryder. What did he think of where you live?”

  “He was impressed, but he’s been to many impressive places.”

  “I bet. So . . . did you get him up in your room?”

  “Yes.”

  “And? C’mon. Out with the details. This is like pulling teeth.”

  “We’re just getting to know each other, Kiera,” I said. I didn’t want to describe our passionate kissing in my closet. She’d only want more and more detail, and unlike her, I wasn’t comfortable talking about it.

  “That’s how you get to know each other best,” she said, followed by her little evil laugh. “I described my first date with Richard, remember? I thought he might think less of me at first, but the truth was, I excited him in ways he never expected. And still do!”

  “Why don’t you send me a picture of him?”

  “Yes. I’ll do that. Maybe a picture with his clothes off.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  She laughed. “I’ll see. I’ll expect a picture of Ryder in return.”

  I heard a beep on my phone. “I think that’s him calling. You want to hold on while I check?”

  “No. Send me an e-mail, a delicious one,” she said, and hung up.

  I flashed the line and said, “Hello.”

  “Did you get a lecture about me?”

  I knew all I had to do was say yes and I’d never get him back or have him have any more to do with me.

  “Talk about being arrogant,” I said. “Why do you assume you were the topic of discussion?”

  “Well, why did he want to see you in his office?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  “Right. It was about me.”

  “No.”

  “Then start your long story,” he said.

  Beginning any relationship with deceit was certainly not a way to give it any lasting meaning, I thought, but in this case, stretching the truth a little would be better.

  “The Marches are having a hard time with Kiera.”

  “Still?”

  “She’s seeing someone seriously at college, and she won’t tell them how serious it is. Donald and Jordan know I exchange e-mails with her. They wanted me to tell them what I know.”

  “Donald? It’s Donald now?”

  “Yes, he asked me to call him Donald instead of Mr. March.”

  “More progress. Maybe he will agree to adopt you. Okay, I want some quid pro quo, too.”

  “What?”

  “I came to your house, or your palace, today and saw your calligraphy. You have to c
ome to my house and see my model planes and cars.”

  “You were serious? You do that?”

  “Yes, and don’t make fun of it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Good. Get permission,” he said. “If you can and if you want to, that is,” he added.

  “Yes, I would like that. Don’t worry. I can.”

  “Okay. And I’ve made another decision,” he added.

  “What?”

  “I like you,” he said.

  And then, like last time, he hung up before I could say anything else.

  I waited for him to call back and tell me good night or something, but he didn’t. He left his words hanging in the air, echoing in my ears instead.

  “I like you.”

  Somehow I understood that something so easy for any other boy to say to me took a great deal of effort and trust for Ryder to say.

  I knew I should be feeling happy about it, maybe even a little proud of myself.

  But Donald March’s warnings about my being arrogant were ringing in my ears as well.

  What would I hear last before I fell asleep?

  9

  A Star Family

  Mrs. Duval didn’t have to come to wake me the next morning. I beat my alarm clock, too, and hopped out of bed. I had forgotten to wash my hair the night before and went directly to it. I was blow-drying it at my vanity table when Mrs. Duval stopped by.

  “Well,” she said when I finished and rushed to put on my panties and bra and the outfit I had chosen to wear, “I wonder what’s gotten us up and ready so early today.”

  I saw from the impish look on her face that she and Mrs. Caro had surely been discussing me and Ryder. Neither of them was obtrusive or obvious, but it always amazed me how little went on here at the March estate without their knowing. It was as if they had their ears to the walls. I was sure, however, that Alberto had told Mrs. Duval about Ryder and me walking to the lake. He might even have seen us kiss.

  “I’m not up any earlier than usual,” I said.

  “Yes, but we haven’t been getting up as usual lately, have we?” she asked, hiding a smile, and left.

  I stepped into the closet to finish dressing and had just pulled up my jeans when I sensed that someone was there. I thought Mrs. Duval had returned to tell me something, but when I turned, I saw Donald standing in the doorway. I had yet to put on my blouse.

  “Oh,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you were still in the room. Just thought I would check before I left the house. I have a breakfast meeting this morning.”

  I pressed my blouse over my bra and looked at him. I could probably count on the fingers of my two hands how many times he had been in my room since I had come to live here. I used to think it was just as sad for him to see Alena’s things as it was for Jordan to see them, maybe even more difficult for him, and that was why he avoided it.

  “Sorry,” he said, and started to turn away.

  “What did you want?” I asked.

  He turned back. “I wanted to tell you that your car plates arrived in the mail with your registration. I had Alberto put the plates on, but I also wanted you to know I had put the registration in the glove compartment if and when you need to show it. Not that I expect you to be in any accidents or get pulled over for tickets,” he added. “You’re driving safely. Just keep that up.”

  “I will. Thank you,” I said, but I wondered how he knew I was driving safely. Was he having me watched, followed?

  He stood there looking at me a moment and then nodded, started to turn away again, and stopped. I started putting on my blouse but stopped as well.

  “Oh, what do you have after school today?”

  Ryder had asked me to go to his house after school. I was sure I would do that today. If I came up with Donald’s request as a reason not to, Ryder would surely take it personally.

  “Today? I might have something,” I said. “Why?”

  “I thought if you weren’t busy, you might come over to the office. I wanted to show you this new campaign we’re doing for the High Rollers. I’m sure you know the rock group.”

  “I do, but I’m not crazy about them. They’re too heavy metal for me.”

  “I hate them,” he said, “but they’re a very nice account. I’m trying to help them do a little more crossover, soften their image, and I thought someone like you might have some good insights.”

  “Can I come tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Sure. Maybe that would be better. Now that I think of it, I have a lunch that might go late. Well, enjoy the day,” he said, and left.

  I stood there looking after him for a moment and then quickly finished dressing. Jordan, dressed and all made up, came down a few minutes after I had. She was as bright and buoyant as she was at dinner. Gone was that depressed air that had been hovering about her lately.

  “You look very nice this morning,” she said.

  “Thank you. So do you. Are you going anywhere special?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a lot to do today. But I’ve set aside Saturday for us,” she added. “We’ll spend the day picking out your dress for the concert and seeing to whatever alterations are necessary.”

  “Saturday?”

  “Yes. Donald insisted we get it done. He said again that if for some reason he can’t get the tickets, he’ll get tickets to something just as good. He really is taking more interest in us,” she added. Her happiness had improved her appetite. She asked for her favorite omelette with toast and some of Mrs. Caro’s homemade jam.

  “Is he?” I said. I didn’t mean it to sound cynical, but I knew it did, or at least not enthusiastic enough for her.

  “Oh, yes, yes. He made a big point of my shopping for your dress. He said it was time you had some really elegant clothing. He told me he thought you were quite a mature young lady now, and you should have a wardrobe to complement that. I must say, he didn’t take this much interest in Kiera’s wardrobe when she was your age, except to criticize it. That girl seemed to enjoy wearing things that would annoy us.

  “Anyway, it was refreshing to see him really interested in us. Oh, I almost forgot. He said neither of us should make any plans for Friday night. He’s taking us to Castles. You know, the very hot new Beverly Hills restaurant. Usually, it takes months to get a reservation for a Friday night. Stars like your sad friend’s parents are seen there all the time.”

  I thought that gave me an opportunity to talk about Ryder. “I might get to meet them today,” I said.

  “Oh? How?”

  “I might go to his house after school. He came here, so I thought it was only fair to go there.”

  “I see. Well, please let me know if you do go. I hope you’ll be careful, Sasha. It’s so easy to get swept along with all this Hollywood stuff,” she said.

  I thought that was almost funny. She had just finished telling me that Castles was a hot reservation because Hollywood celebrities were seen there often.

  “Ryder is about as non-Hollywood as anyone could be.”

  “You hardly know him, dear.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t take all that long to get to know what someone’s really like. If there’s any mystery to most of the students at Pacifica, it’s only who their plastic surgeon is or will be.”

  She froze for a moment. “Don’t you like being there?”

  “I appreciate all of the advantages it offers, Jordan, but I really don’t want to be like most of the other girls. When someone came up with the slogan that beauty was only skin deep, he or she was surely talking about the Pacifica student body.”

  Her eyelids narrowed, and the softness fled from her face. “I don’t remember you talking like this before, Sasha,” she said. “I hope Ryder Garfield is not putting ideas into your head already.”

  “He hasn’t said anything to me that I haven’t said to myself,” I replied. I glanced at my watch and wiped my lips.

  “Don’t get cynical on me,” she warned as I started to rise. “You sound a little too much like Kiera.”

>   I paused. Did I? I realized it was something Kiera might have said, but she would laugh about it, whereas I meant it.

  “I’m really very happy to see Donald suddenly taking a greater interest in your welfare,” she continued. “He’s a great deal wiser than I am and will be a valuable adviser for you. We saw a little of that yesterday when he met Ryder. Donald has a wonderful eye for trouble and for avoiding it,” she added with a tone of caution intended for me.

  Donald has a wonderful eye for trouble and avoiding it? How quickly she had turned from criticizing him, I thought. The cruel voice inside me was clamoring for me to say, If that is true, how do you explain Kiera? What about all the times you blamed him for letting her run wild, making excuses for her, getting her out of trouble? If I did ask these questions, I was sure she would burst into tears. Ironically, even though she was keen to point out frequently how fragile I still was, she didn’t see how fragile she was.

  When I looked at her now, I wondered, was I looking at myself in years to come? Would I eventually choose to blind myself to all of the dark and negative things in my life and see everything through those famous rose-colored glasses? Would that be for me what it was for her, a way to survive, maybe the only way to survive? She had never looked as pathetic and lost to me as she did at this moment, and the irony was, she thought she was happy again.

  “I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” I said. “I do appreciate his interest in my welfare, but he can’t say he believes I’m more mature for my age and not trust in my judgment, too.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. We’re just so worried all the time. I don’t have to tell you why.”

  “I’ll be all right,” I told her, and gave her a kiss on the cheek and started out.

  “Don’t drive fast,” she called. “And let me know if you’re not coming right home after school.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  When I stepped out of the house, I felt a sense of relief and wondered, was this what Kiera always felt when she finally was able to get away from her parents? Was this what made her even more rebellious? Everyone knew the best way to get someone, especially a teenager, to do something was to tell him or her not to do it. It wasn’t something true only now; it was true always, and if Jordan and Donald looked back at their own youth and how they had behaved, they would admit it, too.