Hudson 02 Lightning Strikes

by V. C. Andrews

  "A-huh. And the horse is mighty proud of it, too," he said.

  If I wasn't coming home to a funeral, I would have laughed aloud. It would be a while until I could smile and giggle again.

  "I always forget just how big this estate is," my Great-aunt Leonora said as we drove up the circular driveway.

  It really was a big house, I thought. Endfield Place could fit inside of Grandmother Hudson's home.

  "Ostentatious," Great-uncle Richard muttered at the four large, tall columns holding up a front-gabled roof. "I always thought so. Americans always think bigger means better quality."

  "I did always like the front door, Richard," Great-aunt Leonora insisted. The large front door had four panels and was surrounded on the sides and top by a narrow band of rectangular panes of glass held in a delicate, decorative frame.

  Of course, there was a great deal more land than they had back in England and there was the small lake as well.

  "Ours has more class," Great-uncle Richard insisted.

  "Yes, yes of course it does," Great-aunt Leonora was happy to agree.

  Sibling rivalry, I thought, even reached across the ocean.

  We all got out and went into the house where we found Victoria having a cup of coffee, her head bent over a pile of documents spread over the dining room table. She looked up when we appeared. She was pale, her eyes dull, but she always looked that way to me. If she was devastated by Grandmother Hudson's death, it was a well-kept secret, I thought.

  "Victoria," my great-aunt cried and held out her arms.

  Victoria rose slowly. She seemed even taller and thinner than I remembered, and not that much time had passed. She was dressed in a faded pink housecoat and wore no makeup, no lipstick. Her dull brown hair hung limply at her ears.

  "Hello, Aunt Leonora," she said, She didn't move toward her to embrace her. "Uncle Richard."

  "Hello, Victoria. We're sorry about all this," he said nodding slightly toward me.

  "It's a mess," she said, gazing down at the papers. Then she finally took Great-aunt Leonora's hand and gave her a quick embrace. She kissed Greatuncle Richard on the cheek.

  Jake made some noise coming through the front door with the luggage.

  "Oh, Jake," Victoria said, stepping into the hallway. "Put my aunt and uncle's things in my mother's room and her things," she added, nodding at me, "in the maid's room downstairs."

  "Not her own room?" Jake challenged.

  "Alison will want to be in her room," she said. She turned to me. "I'm sure that's all right with you, isn't it?"

  "Yes," I said. "I'm really not worried about which room I have at the moment."

  "How sweet. Okay, Jake. Thanks," she told him and returned to the dining room table. "I've got some hot coffee if you'd like some," she told the Endfields. "Or I can put on some water for tea."

  "What happened to Frances's maid?"

  "Mother hasn't had a maid for some time now," Victoria replied, glancing at me. "There was a nurse here from time to time, but that didn't last either."

  "Well, who's going to provide for us?" Greataunt Leonora asked with a frantic tone in her voice.

  "I've called a temp agency and they're sending some people over later today so we can do what is necessary for the funeral and after. I'm sure Rain might be of some assistance as well. You did help my mother with domestic work before you went off to become an actress, didn't you?"

  "What I did for my grandmother, I did out of love," I said. "I don't mind sleeping in the maid's room, but I'm nobody's maid, especially nobody here," I added and headed for the maid's room. I was tired from the trip and instinctively knew that I better do what I could to conserve my strength and energy for what was soon to come.

  After Jake took care of my great-uncle and great-aunt, he brought my bags to my room and we visited.

  "You don't look worse for wear," he said, "but I can see you weren't exactly welcomed with open arms. Frances was worried about you, Rain. She tried her best to get herself over there to see how you were doing."

  "I was all right, Jake, but they don't have what you would call a happy home," I said and laughed at the understatement. "I liked the school and I did well there."

  "I bet. Well, maybe one day you can tell me all about it," he said. "If I'm still working here, that is."

  "I don't know what I can say about it, but if I have anything to say about it, you will."

  "Without Frances, there's not that much for me to do anyway, Princess." He checked his watch. "Megan and her family are taking a shuttle down so I'll be leaving to pick them up. I can't remember the last time they were all here together like this," he added. "When they were, it was Frances who kept them in line. Going to be some fireworks now, I suppose. Better than the Fourth of July."

  "Maybe I'll be celebrating my independence," I said and he laughed.

  "Bad reason to have you here, Rain, but I'm happy to see you."

  "Thanks, Jake."

  "You need anything, you don't hesitate to ask me," he said and left.

  There was nothing left to do but rest and mark the time until my mother and her family arrived, all of them probably still reeling from the revelations.

  How would they treat me now?

  After napping for about an hour or so, I heard the temporary domestic employees arrive. Victoria had hired two maids to take care of the family and then contacted a catering company to provide service and food for the funeral. She and my mother had decided they would have the mourners at the house after the service and burial, which had been scheduled for tomorrow. How different even death was for the rich, I thought. Back in the projects, when someone close to us died, we would all gather around and bring food and help. The work helped comfort the bereaved. It wasn't a formal party, planned and catered. It was only people doing things for other people to help them get over their sorrow.

  I rose and went outside. The late summer day was a bit crisp with a cool breeze stirring the trees. I wandered down to the lake, recalling how I had stood here watching and listening to the birds just before I left for England. While I was sitting there staring out at the water, Jake arrived with my mother and her family. I watched them all get out and head toward the house. It was the first time I had seen my mother's husband Grant, and even from this distance with Brody beside him, I could see he was at least six feet two or three, slim with dark brown hair. He wore a suit and held my mother's hand as they all entered the house. Jake drove the car off toward the garage. I took a deep breath.

  It begins, I thought, and made my way slowly back to the house. When I entered, I heard them all talking loudly, Victoria's voice competing with Greatuncle Richard's. They all turned and stopped speaking when I appeared in the doorway. It was the longest moment of my life, standing there and confronting each and every one of them.

  My mother's husband was a handsome man. His hair was thick, neatly styled, and his hazel eyes were bright, intelligent, radiating self-confidence like two valuable jewels set in his evenly tanned face with his strong mouth and firm jaw. He looked the most relaxed, sitting with quiet elegance amidst the explosion of emotion and anger that raged around him. When he looked my way, his eyes grew small with studied curiosity while an almost indistinguishable smile softened his lips.

  "Well?" Victoria finally said to my mother, shooting a look of disgust and condemnation at my mother and then gazing at Grant.

  My mother glanced at her husband, too, and he nodded ever so slightly, suggesting the two of them had done some planning for this moment.

  Brody's eyes were fixed on me. He was smiling warmly, but Alison was practically snorting like a bull.

  My mother rose and walked to me, smiling.

  "Hello, Rain," she said. "Let's you and I go for a walk so that we cantalk."

  I glanced back at Grant who looked at me with even greater interest. He made me feel like he was waiting on my reaction, waiting to judge and conclude all sorts of things about me. All I did was turn and walk out of the house again.r />
  My mother walked beside me, her arms folded under her breasts, her head down.

  "This is all such a big mess," she began. "I always thought my mother was going to live forever. She had that air of immortality about her. I remember how well she dealt with my father's death. She was always everyone's pillar of strength. I can't help suspecting that she even plotted all this, deciding just when and how she would pass away and what would occur because of it."

  She stopped and sighed deeply. Then she looked at me. "How have you been? I'm sorry, I should have asked sooner."

  "I survived," I replied. She lost her smile quickly. "The school was very good, but living with your uncle and aunt..."

  "I know, I know. I was never very comfortable with them. Oh, Aunt Leonora is all right, just silly, I guess, but Uncle Richard makes you feel. . ."

  "Inferior?"

  "Yes," she said, nodding.

  I considered telling her everything, just spewing it all out like some undigested meal, letting her know what I really had to endure, letting her know about the pain and the trouble her actions years and years ago were still causing, but this wasn't the time. We had Grandmother Hudson's funeral to think about first.

  "I guess you've told them everything, right?" I asked. She continued walking toward the lake, her head down, her arms folded.

  "Well, not quite," she said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Grant knows it all, yes, but I haven't told the children the truth about you. Both Grant and I hoped that maybe we could spare them that in the middle of all this," she added quickly. "I'm sure you can appreciate that."

  "No, I can't," I said angrily. "There comes a time when all the lies have to stop."

  "It's not lying so much as it's not telling the whole story."

  "What did you finally tell them about me then?"

  "Well, not much more than before," she said. "I just added that your father was a good friend of mine in college and I was doing all this for you because of that old friendship."

  "But when they find out about the will..."

  "They won't be at the reading of the will and we'll wait until they're a little older for the rest," she said. "Okay?" She looked like she was holding her breath.

  What had she done: promised her husband she could convince me to play along with their plan?

  "I don't care what they know or don't know," I said.

  "Good. For now it's better this way. Grant will appreciate that, too."

  "What did he say when you told him?" I asked.

  "He wasn't very happy about it, but he's understanding.

  When he was younger, he sowed his wild oats, too," she said.

  "I'm happy everyone's so understanding," I muttered bitterly. Then I paused and turned on her. "I should tell you that I met my real father in England."

  "What?"

  "Grandmother Hudson never told you?"

  She shook her head.

  "I found him with the help of a friend and I even visited him and his family."

  "You found Larry Ward?"

  "I prefer to call him my father."

  She stared at me, astonished.

  "It wasn't really all that difficult a thing to do. It was hard to get myself to have the courage to actually tell him who I was, but when I finally did . .

  "What?" she asked eagerly.

  "He turned out to be very, very nice, and later, when I met her, so did his wife."

  She stared and then shook her head and smiled.

  "What did he say when he found out? I mean, what did he want to do?"

  "He wanted to get to know me more," I replied. "He told his wife all about me just before I left England and he said she was okay with it, too, but he didn't talk about sowing wild oats," I added. She ignored my sarcasm. "How did he look?"

  "Terrific," I said. "He's a very successful English professor, highly respected, and he has two beautiful children, a daughter and a son. Just like you, only his daughter is the older child and they are both very well behaved."

  She nodded, her eyes distant. She looked like she really had been in love with him once and I had stirred up all those old memories. After a moment her eyes seemed to click back to the present. She took a deep breath.

  "You're an amazing young woman," she said. "That's why I know we're all going to get through this. For some time Victoria has been in a rage about Mother including you in the estate, as you know. She has been trying to get Grant to do something about it, but he doesn't want to make a big legal issue. He rightly thinks that it will bring a great deal of unnecessary and unpleasant attention to our family?'

  "Is he still trying to become president of the United States?" I asked out of the side of my mouth.

  "He's ambitious and I wouldn't put it past him to run for high office soon," she admitted.

  I stopped and turned to her.

  "All right, Mother," I said. "What do you want from me? Let's just get it out and over with, okay?"

  "Well, we know that my mother . . ." She shook her head, smiling, "my mother created a situation that would make it all very difficult for us. She has apparently left you title to fifty-one percent of the house and property, the remaining forty-nine percent divided between Victoria and me. She left you fifty percent of the business, and she has left you what amounts to nearly two million dollars in investments that pay good dividends."

  My breath caught in my throat. It would have taken Mama and anyone in her family twenty lifetimes to come close to my fortune, a fortune I had inherited almost overnight.

  "Of course," my mother continued, "it's shocking. Victoria wants us to challenge the will and take it through court to get a judge to invalidate it. She claims my mother was not in her right mind at the time. Grant says there could be a serious challenge to the will and while that was going on, of course, your life would be in limbo, Rain.

  "So what Grant wants to propose is we compromise. We'll set aside a quarter of a million dollars for you in an account and you could then be your own person and do whatever you wanted with your life. Victoria would be satisfied. Well, not really, but we could shut her up, and everyone could go on with their life. What do you think?"

  My eyes were so full of tears, I could barely see her. Wasn't there even a tiny speck of a motherly instinct in her for me? Was Grandmother Hudson's death and the aftermath only an opportunity to rid herself of me forever?

  I should take this ugly deal, I thought, and turn my back on this miserable family. I should just return to England immediately and make my own life there, maybe close to my real father, who at least wasn't looking for every opportunity possible to deny my existence.

  "Rain?"

  I turned and looked out over the lake. What would Grandmother Hudson say to all this? What would she expect me to do?

  I recalled the day I had left her. Every moment, every second of that good-bye, lingered in my mind vividly. I was so concerned then that it would be the last time we would be together and I had been right. She had looked into my face with such hope and said, "I was afraid there was nobody in my family with a sense of propriety and the grit to do the right things. Don't disappoint me."

  "Grandmother Hudson had a reason for what she did," I began and turned slowly to face my mother. "I made her certain promises, promises she will expect me to keep, even now, maybe even more now than ever. I wouldn't change a comma in her will," I said defiantly.

  My mother looked shocked. Obviously she had been so confident she would convince me to do what Grant had wanted.

  "But Rain, look at what will happen. Victoria won't give up easily and ..."

  "Somehow," I said smiling, "I think your husband will be able to convince her."

  She just stared. I smiled and she shook her head. "You really are like her," she said angrily.

  "That, Mother, was the best compliment you could ever have given me."

  She nodded, turned and started back toward the house. I took a deep breath.

  I was afraid.

/>   My whole body trembled. I had no idea what I was going to do or how I would defend myself, but I was on Grandmother Hudson's land and I was in her house and her words still echoed inside me.

  This wouldn't be easy, I thought as I started back, too. "So?" I could hear Grandmother Hudson reply. "When has anything ever been easy for you, Rain?"

  I smiled, closed my eyes and said, "I won't disappoint you, Grandmother."

  Epilogue

  .

  No one bothered much with me before or

  during the funeral and its aftermath. Brody was the only one who really spoke to me, asking me questions about England and telling me about-his school year and his achievements in sports. He was still a good prospect for a football scholarship. Alison avoided me constantly, which was just fine with me. She looked annoyed about having to attend her own

  grandmother's funeral. Most of the time, she stayed in her room, sulking.

  It was really Jake who kept me informed about the time and place for everything. I rode to the funeral in the Rolls with my great-uncle and my great-aunt. Everyone else was in a hired limousine. Great-uncle Richard really didn't know all the details of the will yet and was simply anxious to get back to his precious England and his own work. Great-aunt Leonora played the deeply saddened sister, but she would brighten like a spotlight whenever some old friend approached her and she had an opportunity to describe and brag about her wonderful life in England. Very quickly, it all turned into more of a social event and I retreated to my own room to wait for the eventual outcome.

  Grant paid me one final visit before the reading of the will. He came to my room, the maid's room, the day before to make one more attempt at what he called "a reasonable solution."

  For any other man, I thought, this would be a very embarrassing and difficult meeting. After all, he was face to face with his wife's illegitimate daughter.

  However, he handled it as if he were just the opposing party's attorney, keeping it formal, correct.

  "I thought if we could have one sensible conversation, we could avoid anything unpleasant for all concerned," he began.

  "It's too late," I said uncharitably. "I have had nothing but unpleasantness here."

  "Which is my point. Why continue that? I could," he continued, "convince Victoria to agree to be more generous with the compromise. How does half a million dollars sound?"