He reached for the wheels of his chair and turned it about. At least he had strength in his arms, and hadn’t resorted to the ease of electricity.
“If there’s anything you want, Lynn, go talk to Everett. Not to me.”
I gave up. “Of course,” I said. “I shouldn’t have asked you for anything. I’ll go tell Emory that you need him.”
He made one angry gesture as I moved away, thrusting the piece of quartz off his lap so that it crashed to the floor, denting one of the deck planks.
I stopped and looked back, pleased because I’d made him angry, yet angry with myself in the same instant.
“Are you really as helpless as everyone thinks?” I demanded.
His eyes blazed with sudden fury, and, in a strange way, I felt relieved. At least he could summon anger, instead of total indifference.
“I won’t bother you again,” I said, and walked toward a door. No matter how much I wanted to rage at him, I felt cut to pieces inside, and ashamed of the things I’d said to him.
Paul had returned, and before I reached the door, he came through it and went directly to Stephen. His look as he passed me was watchful, suspicious.
“I’m sorry if she’s bothered you, Stephen. Emory should have stopped her.”
However, there was still one person none of us had thought of who might reckon with Stephen. Before I went inside, Jilly came running around the far end of the deck and went directly to her father.
“Daddy, Uncle Julian is being sent away! I don’t want him to go. He’s my friend. Please don’t let this happen!”
Stephen seemed to crumple into himself. He closed his eyes as though he wanted to shut everything away, and he made no effort to answer his daughter. Paul wheeled him away, while Jilly stared after him darkly.
“He doesn’t care! He doesn’t care about me at all!”
I drew her down on the bench and sat beside her. “I think he cares a great deal. But he feels helpless to do anything, Jilly. I don’t think we should give up yet. I remember a teacher I once had who used to say there was always a way. We just haven’t found it yet. Maybe there’s still something we can do.”
I could feel her body tensing beneath my hand, far from relaxed or believing.
“You’re going away too—so how can you do anything?”
“I’m not leaving immediately. There’s still a little time to figure out a plan.”
When I looked across the deck, I saw that Stephen sat in his chair behind the glass, and that he was looking out at us. On impulse I picked up the piece of rock from the deck and held it up for him to see. I was taking back a bit of this house that should have belonged to me, and it told him that I wasn’t giving up. Not yet.
8
“Jilly, can we talk for a few minutes?” I asked. “Will you come upstairs to my room?”
“If Carla doesn’t catch me.”
She came with me to my sitting room and when I set the quartz rock on a table, Jilly picked it up.
“Where did you find this, Lynn? My father gave it to me when I was little, but then it disappeared.”
“It was in your great-grandfather’s house out at Oleander Acres, and Meryl said I could have it. I didn’t know it belonged to you.”
She sat studying the intricacy of small peaks, with their streaks of silver. “When I was little I used to pretend that I was a tiny mountain climber, and this was the mountain I wanted to climb. See—this side slopes a little, and there are ledges where I could put my ice axe. And where my crampons could dig in. Isn’t it a beautiful mountain—especially those little points at the top that can shine in the sun.”
It was time to tell her. “I see what you mean, Jilly—about climbing the mountain, and it is beautiful. But there’s something you don’t know. A long time ago someone gave me this rock.”
Her look narrowed, ready to distrust again. “How could that be?”
“You know, don’t you, that your father was married to someone else before he married your mother?”
“Yes, but only for a little while. She wasn’t a good person, and she went away and left him. So then he married my mother, and that was a beautiful marriage.”
So this was the fable? “Who told you that, Jilly?”
“My mother told me. His marrying that other person was a terrible mistake, but it happened a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Her words stopped me before I’d really begun. My marriage to Stephen suddenly became too difficult to explain to his daughter. If I tried, I would have to defend myself because of what she’d been told. And then I might lose her trust altogether—because who was she more likely to believe—Oriana or me?
Jilly was persistent, however. “How could someone give you that rock when you’ve never been here before?”
It was necessary to answer, but I needn’t tell her everything. “I have been here, Jilly. Not to this house. It hadn’t been built when I lived in Charlottesville. I went to school at the university, and I knew your father when we were both very young. He gave me that rock. But I returned it to him when I went back north.”
She looked at me with eyes that were as bright as Stephen’s used to be, though not as green. At least, I had given her something to think about, perhaps to digest, and it was better this way—without any explaining.
“I’d better go,” she said. “Carla will be looking for me. Can I keep this now?” She still held the rock.
“Of course, Jilly. It really is yours. And don’t worry about anything. I’m going to talk to Julian and perhaps we can work something out.”
“Okay. I saw him out in the gazebo, if you want to find him.”
There was haste in her movements, as she hurried off—eager to escape—perhaps from something she was afraid to understand.
When she’d gone, I climbed to the top level of the house and walked around the deck to the far end of Oriana’s dance studio. At least it had been Oriana, not Stephen, who had told her those stories about me.
There were steps from the top deck to a path that led toward the little summerhouse. I went down to it and walked out upon the rocky neck to the gazebo’s door. Through its open sides, I could see Julian standing at a rail where he could look out at mountains that resembled a calico quilt in their multicolors.
I called to him, “May I join you, Julian?”
His expression as he turned toward me seemed sad and resigned. “Of course, Lynn,” he said, and I went through the arched doorway with its trellis that would bloom with wisteria in the spring.
This promontory of rock offered an even greater sweep of land and sky than the house. Beyond it, the main ridge continued on. Along its top the trees were old and very tall, interlacing in billows of green and gold.
Julian motioned me to a bench and sat down nearby. Everything about him told me that he had given up—in his own calm, accepting way—and somehow I had to stir him out of his resignation as well.
“We have to make plans,” I said. “We have to figure out how to stop Everett.”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing more to be done.” He sat with his hands resting quietly on his knees, no gem-stones clicking in his fingers now.
I began to feel as impatient with him as I’d been with Stephen. “You’re the one who brought me here,” I reminded him. “You can’t give up on Jilly now.”
“I am reconciled to what has to be,” he said quietly. “There will be another time.”
“Not if you let Everett move you out. You can’t help Jilly unless you’re under the same roof.”
“You’ve seen Stephen?”
“Yes, and that’s hopeless. Jilly pleaded with him too, but he’s too wrapped up in his own misery to help anyone else. I said sharp things to him that I shouldn’t have said.”
“Don’t blame yourself.” As always, Julian was kind. “It must have been a hard meeting for both of you.”
“I don’t think Stephen cares about anything. I managed to make him angry, but I don’t know wha
t use that was to him—or to me.”
“Forgive yourself, Lynn. Even if you aren’t ready yet to forgive Stephen.”
There was no forgiveness in me. “What did you mean about having another time with Jilly?”
“Not in this life, I’m afraid. I understand that this isn’t to be. But I will meet her again in times ahead. Jilly is my daughter.”
I stared at him blankly, and his smile seemed remote and sad—a smile not intended for me.
“She has been my daughter down through the ages—many times. We came together in this lifetime and I called her Amber. But she was taken away. When she was born into Jilly’s body, signs were given me, so I knew, and we were reunited for a little while. But now this isn’t to be either.”
Amber for Amber! I knew what he was talking about, but I felt as lost as I might have been in mists on the mountain. I knew all the statistics about reincarnation being accepted by a majority of the world’s population, but my Western world was somewhere else—ignorant, perhaps, in its nonacceptance?
Julian understood my bewilderment. “I know how hard it is for the novice to accept. Though I’ve always thought this concept made more sense to existence than any other.”
I wasn’t ready to deal with other worlds and other lives. “Julian, no matter what our beliefs are, Jilly mustn’t be sacrificed in this life. It’s too easy to sidestep and let ourselves off the hook, instead of facing Everett down for Jilly’s sake. Right now.”
This time his smile was for me. “You’ve come a long way, haven’t you? But what do you think can be done? Practically speaking?”
“You could tell Everett that you and Vivian don’t intend to leave. It’s Vivian’s right to stay because Larry Asche gave her that right long ago. I suppose Everett is legally in control and could have you removed, but that would look pretty bad for him locally. He has a position in the community and I doubt if he’d go that far. So why not just stay? Pay no attention to what he says.”
Julian was shaking his head. “He can be given to unpleasant behavior. And he doesn’t much care what anyone thinks. Meryl cares a lot more. And Everett could make it pretty uncomfortable for both Vivian and me.”
“Perhaps you can make it even more uncomfortable for him. What if you get hold of Oriana? Tell her what’s going on and make her pay attention. She still has some rights as Stephen’s wife. Do you know how to reach her?”
“I have a California number, but I’m not sure what she could do. She always has professional commitments and needs to plan every move ahead.”
“Commitments to life are important too.”
“Oriana’s life is her dancing and that’s what she’s really committed to.”
“You might tell her that I am here. Tell her I’m making friends with her daughter and talking to Stephen.”
Julian thought about that for a moment. “An interesting possibility. But what about you, Lynn? What if Oriana should come home? How would you deal with that?”
“I wouldn’t. If she would take over, I could go home and get on with my own life.”
“Without damage? Without being wounded all over again?”
“The damage was done before I came, Julian. It can’t get much worse—and probably it won’t get better until I leave.”
Julian put an arm about me. “I’m so sorry, Lynn. My wanting to help Jilly—an obsession, really—made me forget about how you might be hurt. I thought it would be safe for you to come, because you’d worked out your own life, and Stephen belonged to a past that no longer mattered to you.”
“I thought that too. I came with my eyes open, and I thought it was safe. Now I have to finish what you brought me here for. After all, your guides told you I must come.”
He missed my faint smile. “Suppose we talk to Vivian, Lynn. Perhaps if we tell her we’re trying to plan something, it will cheer her up. She needs that, poor darling.”
As he started toward the house, I held back. “One more thing. I tried to tell Jilly that I was her father’s first wife. I’m not sure it’s fair to keep this from her. But she stopped me by telling me that her father’s first wife had run off and left him, and that she wasn’t a good person. I couldn’t counter that and I gave up.”
“Who told Jilly that?”
“Oriana, apparently.”
He sighed. “What must happen will happen.”
“Don’t go fatalistic now,” I pleaded. “You made something happen when you brought me here. Vivian thinks you have a special power that no one can oppose.”
“Dear Vivian. She believes what she wants to believe, and I’ve never discouraged those stars in her eyes. But you can see how much power I have over Everett.”
“I like you better as a wizard,” I said, and he laughed rather sadly as we walked together toward the house.
As we reached Julian’s study, Vivian and Carla Raines came toward us, both agitated. In fact, Vivian seemed tearful again, and Carla was angry. She had changed to a long red gown that draped her arms like open wings—the red a strong, passionate blaze of color.
“I’m not the child’s jailor!” she was telling Vivian. “I can’t watch her every minute. This is too much—something has to be done!”
Julian spoke calmly. “Tell us what has happened, Carla.”
Vivian answered for her. “Jilly has been a very mischievous little girl.”
Carla denied her words indignantly. “It’s worse than that! Come and see what she’s done, Mr. Forster. She can’t be excused any longer.” She whirled about, red wings outstretched, and stormed off toward the rooms she shared with Jilly, while the three of us followed more slowly.
It was the first time I’d been in these rooms. The living area was cheerful with bright prints and pictures on the walls—pictures Jilly must have chosen when she was younger. There were several happy clown paintings, and a large poster of a girl on a horse. One section of wall had been covered with photos in color of Oriana dancing. The girl on the horse looked like a younger Jilly. No one had troubled to bring the room up to Jilly’s present age—or perhaps she liked it this way. The safe and familiar.
Carla, however, was interested only in her own room, and she led us through an adjoining door. This bedroom was attractive, but impersonal—as though it had been lived in by a succession of governesses, each one perhaps lending her own personality by means of a few possessions, yet really changing nothing. Now whatever belonged to Carla had been neatly rearranged.
Nothing had been strewn around or damaged—just rearranged in an inappropriate manner. What might have been set on the dressing table had been transferred to the middle of the bed, and pillows from the bed had been placed beneath the mirror of the dressing table. Shoes had been brought from a closet and lined up in front of the windows. Clothes on closet hangers had been moved to the shower rail in the bathroom. Finally, an armchair had been turned around and shoved against the wall, its back to the room, and an emptied suitcase stood on the floor beside it.
While Julian stood staring around the room, I went to the chair and pulled it about. Whatever Carla had left in the suitcase had been taken out and piled in the chair. Topping it was the framed photograph of a man. Apparently Carla hadn’t seen what had been put into the chair before she’d rushed out of the room to complain to Vivian. Now she darted toward the photograph and picked it up to place it facedown on a pillow that adorned the dressing table.
So there was a man in Carla’s life? I’d had a good look at the picture before she snatched it away. The background was dark and the man’s sweater black, so only his face came to life in flesh tones, standing out dramatically, forcefully. He had longish hair, light brown, and brown eyes set a bit close together. His lips were parted in a slight smile, seeming to give nothing away. I received the quick impression of a face both soft and macho at the same time. Summed up, it was a secretive face. I paid attention only because whoever he was, he was important to Carla. Julian and Vivian exchanged a surprised look even as Carla snatched the pictur
e away.
“You can see what I have to put up with!” she cried.
Vivian began to offer apologies, promising to talk to Jilly, but Julian cut through her words in his own quiet way.
“Of course you can always leave,” he told Carla. “Others have. Jilly is a difficult child to live with unless one understands and loves her.”
“She doesn’t want to be loved!” Carla responded indignantly. “I will have to talk to Oriana about this.”
“Let me do that,” Julian went on, still gently. “I’d planned to telephone her this afternoon, and I’ll let her know what has happened. And that you are thinking of leaving. Will that do it?”
Carla backed down. “I’m not leaving right away. I owe Oriana something, and you won’t find someone quickly who will carry on with Jilly’s dancing lessons.”
“Oh, what does it matter!” Vivian started toward the door. “Julian and I will be leaving soon anyway, and Jilly won’t be our responsibility anymore.”
Julian didn’t contradict her and Carla stared at him in surprise. “You are leaving?”
“It may be necessary.” Julian spoke soothingly. “Stephen’s brother believes that it might be advisable. So perhaps he is the one you’d better talk to.”
That didn’t seem to please Carla, and she didn’t look at us as she moved about putting her room to rights.
“Where is Jilly now?” Julian asked.
“I don’t know,” Carla said over her shoulder. “I tried to find her after I saw what she’d done to my room, but I couldn’t locate her anywhere in the house. Probably she’s gone off in the woods the way she likes to do, and she’ll come back when she pleases.”
I’d been silent, feeling disturbed and uncertain. The room was probably Jilly’s handiwork, but it showed a depth of trouble in her that might harm Jilly herself if it went unchecked.
“I don’t like this, Julian,” I said. “Jilly must have been very upset to do this—” I waved my hand at the room. “Don’t you think we’d better look for her?”
“I certainly do,” Julian agreed. “Carla, suppose you stay here while Lynn and I see if we can find her.”
The Singing Stones Page 11
