The Unwelcomed Child

by V. C. Andrews

  “If it’s the way they’re bringing you up, it’s wrong,” Claudine insisted. Mason gave her another dirty look. “Well, isn’t it? You don’t assume someone, your own grandchild, is definitely going to be bad and keep her from living a normal life, Mason. She didn’t cause her mother’s rape. We both decided that. Don’t pretend something different now that Elle is standing in front of us.”

  “I’m not.” He looked at me. “She’s just very sad right now, and it’s better if we don’t make her any sadder.”

  “My grandfather thinks this happened because my mother just popped in on us after all these years. It was too much of a shock.”

  “Too much of a shock to see your own daughter?” Claudine asked.

  “It was quite a shock to me,” I admitted. “They fought. It was very unpleasant. My grandmother was blue with rage that day.”

  They were both quiet a moment.

  “We’re just going downtown to pick up my mother’s dry cleaning and have some lunch. Could you come with us?” Mason asked.

  I actually considered it. Grandpa Prescott had just gone up for his nap. If he came down and I wasn’t there, he would assume I had gone to the lake. He did tell me to enjoy the day and not worry about anything. Was it terrible for me to do this, especially now?

  “Oh, c’mon,” Claudine said. “You’re not exactly running off or anything.”

  “We’ll bring you right back after we have some lunch.”

  “I probably should make my grandfather his lunch.”

  “Isn’t he capable of making himself a sandwich or something?” Claudine asked. “You’re going to go to school soon. He’ll have to make his own lunches then.”

  “She’s right,” Mason said. “C’mon,” he urged, tugging me toward the car.

  He opened the door and pulled back his seat for me to get in.

  “You can sit in front,” Claudine said. “I’ll get in the back. You never rode in a convertible, did you?”

  I shook my head and stared at the passenger seat. I would never dare think of doing something like this, but how I wanted to do it. Claudine got into the back.

  “Let’s go. Stop thinking about it,” she told me. “You’re going to have much bigger and more important new decisions to make very soon.”

  I took a step toward it.

  Mason went around and opened the passenger-side door. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady,” he said.

  I glanced back toward our house and then hurried around and got into the car. I felt as if I had just gotten into a spaceship. Mason smiled, got in, and started the engine again.

  “Turn up the music,” Claudine ordered. “It’s harder to hear back here.”

  He did so and then pulled away, Claudine screaming with delight. The warm breeze filled me with new energy and life. I felt Claudine’s fingers on my hair and sat forward. She undid my ribbon, and my hair fell softly.

  “Rock and roll!” she cried. “Get loose. Let go. You’re with the Spenser twins.”

  “I’m starving all of a sudden. We’ll get some lunch first,” Mason told us. “And then stop for the dry cleaning.”

  I sat back. How quickly my mood had changed. It was as if the world was opening up as we sped along and reached the village. With every new mile away from my house, I felt freer, but the freer I felt, the guiltier I felt. A voice inside me told me I should be home with my grandfather, but another, louder voice said, “You should live, too.”

  Mason drove to a restaurant called Burger City. It was round, with a replica of a hamburger on the roof. There was so much, even in this small town, that I had yet to see. When Mason pulled into the parking lot, Claudine didn’t wait for me to open the door and pull back my seat. She climbed out. Then she opened my door and hooked her left arm with my right. Mason did the same on my other side, and the three of us marched toward the front of the restaurant, with them singing, “We’re off to see the Wizard . . .”

  When we entered, the hostess led us to a ruby leather booth. I looked around and saw other teenagers laughing and eating. It looked like a different world, a world where no one thought about anything sad or any work there was to do. Only fun was permitted. As I watched them poke and playfully taunt each other, I realized more of what Mason and Claudine were trying to tell me. I had been kept out of my childhood, my youth, and my sweet teenage years. I was made to be older than I should be, and now I longed to go back.

  The waitress brought the menus.

  “Have a City Burger with all the trimmings and a malt,” Claudine suggested. “Go for it.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s what I’m having,” Mason said. “Claudine?”

  “I prefer the chicken salad myself, but in your honor, I’ll do the same.”

  We handed the waitress the menus, and Claudine began to plan all sorts of trips and adventures for us.

  “We have only weeks left to the summer,” she said. “We’ve got to get as much in as we can, especially now that you’ll be free.”

  “I won’t be that free,” I said.

  “Sure you will. Your grandmother won’t be out of the hospital until after the summer, at least, I bet.”

  “But there’ll be extra work for me to do, work she would do.”

  “You can do that and still have some fun.”

  “Don’t feel guilty about it,” Mason said quickly. “You don’t want to just appear on the school’s front steps without getting out and about a little first. Maybe you’ll meet some of the other students in your class. We’ll make an effort to talk to them, won’t we, Claudine?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll squeeze years into these three weeks,” Claudine pledged.

  Their excitement was boosting my own. Could I really do all this?

  Three girls about my age started out of the restaurant, walking past our booth.

  Mason held out his hand. “Excuse me, girls,” he said. They paused. “Are you all students at Lake Hurley High?”

  “Yes. I’m a junior, and these two are going into their senior year.”

  “My sister and I go to school in New York City, but our good friend here is going to attend Lake Hurley this fall. She’s going into the junior class, too.”

  “Oh. Hi,” the girl said. “I’m Denise. This is Marjorie and Cissy.”

  Mason turned to me, indicating that I should speak up.

  “I’m Elle,” I said.

  “You on the cheerleading team at the school you were in?” Denise asked.

  “No, I . . .”

  “She wasn’t, but she wants to be,” Mason said quickly. “We were just talking about that. My sister is on the cheerleading squad at our school in New York.”

  I looked at Claudine. She had never mentioned anything like that.

  “I showed her some of our cheers, and she picked up on them immediately. She could be terrific,” Claudine added.

  “Good. Come out for it,” Denise said. “Cissy’s cheerleading captain.”

  “Where are you living?” Cissy asked.

  “Berne Road,” I said.

  “It’s not on the way for any of us.”

  “I’m fine. I’m going to walk.”

  “Until you get someone to pick you up every day,” Denise said, smiling. “Until then, we’ll look out for her,” she told Mason.

  “I’d appreciate your looking out for her, period,” Mason said.

  “Why not?” Denise said. “See you soon, Elle,” she added, and the three walked off.

  “That’s how easy it’s going to be for you, Elle. You’ll see,” Mason told me.

  We were served our burgers and malts. While we ate, Claudine rattled off all sorts of advice. Some girls would be friendly, and some would be jealous, especially if the boy they liked was interested more in me. Some girls would be competitive in sports and cheerleading, and some would be competitive in grades, too.

  “A new girl is interesting, but it doesn’t take long for you to know who is sincere and who is not.”

  “How do
you know?”

  “I’ll tell you how I know. I figure out who thinks like I do and go from there. If I’m insincere with someone or about something, good chance they’ll be, too.”

  “You’ll get it. It’s not rocket science,” Mason said. “Just don’t get so interested in anyone’s boyfriend too quickly,” he added, and Claudine laughed.

  “He’s already planning on making weekend trips to see you,” she told me.

  “Really?”

  “I was hoping to tell you that myself, but someone can’t keep her mouth shut.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Claudine said, and she rattled off one example after another of him saying too much to their parents.

  They went at it like that for a few minutes more, and then they laughed, and we finished our lunch. I had never enjoyed one as much and told them so.

  Claudine sat back as Mason paid the bill. She was staring at me differently suddenly.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I just hate how you’ve been taught to think about yourself as someone evil just because of what happened to your mother. That’s so stupid.” She leaned forward. “What exactly did she tell you about it?”

  “I told you what I learned. She didn’t tell me that much.”

  “She didn’t want to talk about it, Claudine. Why make a big deal of it now?” Mason asked.

  “What exactly did she tell you about your father?”

  “She didn’t tell me anything, really. His father owned a bar, and they used to drink there, and she and her girlfriends got to know him and some of his friends. They liked them more than they liked the college boys, and he took advantage of her.”

  She sat back, disappointed.

  “That was all she told me, Claudine. That and his name. She said she didn’t even remember what he looked like.”

  She practically leaped over the table. “She told you his name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember it?”

  “Yes. Sean Barrett.”

  She looked thoughtful.

  “What are you plotting, Claudine?” Mason asked.

  “Albany’s only about two hours from here, isn’t it?”

  “So?” he asked.

  “Our parents are leaving tomorrow. They won’t be back until next weekend.”

  “So?”

  “So why don’t we take a ride to Albany?”

  “And do what, exactly?”

  “See if her father is still living there. I can get on my computer and look up the bar and see if he’s running it or something.”

  “Why do you want to do that?” Mason asked her. “What good will it do?”

  “She should see what her father is like, don’t you think?”

  “He hasn’t been her father her entire life.”

  “But he is!” Claudine insisted. She turned to me. “Aren’t you in the least curious about him?”

  Mason waited for me to reply. I thought about it. I was disappointed at my mother’s response when I had asked her about him.

  “Maybe he’s a real creep,” Mason said when I said nothing.

  “Maybe he’s the mayor,” Claudine countered.

  “That’s ridiculous, Claudine. The man raped her mother.”

  “Date-raped or whatever. It’s going on every day, and some of the boys doing it are now congressmen.”

  “Stop it,” Mason said, but weakly.

  “What do you think, Elle?” Claudine asked. “If you could see him, would you want to?”

  “I suppose,” I said.

  “See?” she told Mason. “It’s only natural.”

  “You don’t even know if he’s still there. You’re getting her hopes up for nothing.”

  “Maybe. I’ll let you know later,” she told me.

  Mason looked very upset for me. I was trembling inside.

  “Let’s go get the dry cleaning,” he said.

  We left the restaurant and drove over to the dry cleaner’s. While he went inside to get the clothing, Claudine continued to talk about a trip to Albany.

  “Chances are he never knew you were born,” she said. “Did your mother say one way or another?”

  “I didn’t get to ask her that. She didn’t want to talk about it, really.”

  “That’s what always happens. The girl feels ashamed, and the guy gets away with it. Your grandparents should have called the police or something.”

  Knowing what they had done to keep my mother’s pregnancy a secret for as long as they could, I smiled at the very thought of that.

  “Well, they should have! What kind of parents would let their daughter be so abused and not do anything more about it? They blamed her, too, and also blamed you. It was easier to do that,” she said, taking on all the anger and indignation I should be showing.

  I stopped smiling.

  “Call me twenty minutes after we drop you off,” she said. “By then, I should know if I can locate him. There are Web sites that will help me find him. Will you call?”

  Mason came out of the dry-cleaning shop.

  “Well, will you?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I will.”

  18

  Mason put the clothing in the trunk and got into the car. He looked at the two of us, shook his head, and started the engine.

  Claudine leaned forward. “Don’t make her feel bad for wanting to know about her father, Mason.”

  “I’m not. If that’s what she wants, I said we’ll help her.”

  “Good,” she said, and sat back.

  It was a different ride home. I was too deep in thought to appreciate the music and the open-air ride. The wild excitement I had felt earlier dissipated like smoke in the breeze. When we drew close to my house, I was a little nervous. I didn’t want Grandpa Prescott to see me with them, not yet. Mason looked at me and understood. He drove a little farther down the road before stopping.

  “I don’t see why having some friends is a crime,” Claudine said.

  “I’ll tell him about you soon,” I promised. “Right now is not a good time.”

  “Call me as soon as you can,” she said, and I got out of the car.

  “Thank you for lunch. It was great fun.”

  “That’s just the start,” Claudine said.

  “Let us know how things are with your grandmother, too,” Mason said.

  “Yeah, we’re on pins and needles about it,” Claudine said, getting out of the rear and into the front seat.

  I watched them drive off and returned to the house. It was as quiet as it had been when I had left. I looked in the kitchen first and saw that nothing had been disturbed. Grandpa Prescott had not made himself any lunch, and I remembered he hardly had eaten anything for breakfast. Softly, I went up the stairs and listened at his door. I heard nothing. Now worried, I knocked gently. He didn’t respond. I waited a little longer, knocked harder, and called, “Grandpa?” When he still didn’t respond, I opened the door and peeked in. He was in bed, lying on his back, his mouth open.

  Terror shot through me.

  “Grandpa?” I cried from the doorway. He didn’t move. “Grandpa!” I shouted, and stepped in. His body shuddered, and he opened his eyes.

  “Wha . . . what?” he said, and sat up.

  I breathed relief. “I’m sorry I woke you, but you’ve been sleeping so long. You haven’t eaten anything. I was worried,” I said.

  “Oh. What time is it?” He looked at the clock. “Oh. Okay. I’ll come down. It’s all right,” he said, wiping his cheeks vigorously. He looked at me and smiled. “I’m fine, Elle.”

  “I’ll make you a ham and cheese sandwich, toasted,” I said. I knew that was one of his favorites.

  “Okay. Thanks.” I thought he still looked a little dazed. I was sorry I had woken him. “Give me ten minutes or so. I’ll wash up and wake up proper,” he said.

  I left and went down to make his sandwich. I knew he liked coffee at lunch. Grandmother Myra usually simply heated what was left over from breakfast, but I also knew he lov
ed having a fresh cup. While I was preparing it, the phone rang. I stood staring at it. We had so few calls. When it rang again, I thought Grandpa Prescott must be in the shower, otherwise he would have answered. After the third ring, I picked up the receiver. My hand was trembling as I brought the receiver to my ear. Was it the hospital or Grandmother Myra’s doctor calling?

  “Hello, the Edwards residence,” I said.

  “Elle,” I heard. “It’s Claudine. Can you talk?”

  “Yes,” I said. I didn’t remember giving her or Mason our telephone number, and I was sure we weren’t in the phone book. My grandparents didn’t want any solicitations over the phone. “How did you get this number?”

  “I paid two dollars and ninety-five cents. This was easy, as was finding the man I’m sure is your father.”

  Those words took the breath out of me the way a punch in my stomach might.

  “Hello? Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yes. How?”

  “Tracked him through that bar, Barrett’s on Greene Street. It’s still there. It’s probably some sort of landmark by now. He’s listed as the owner of record. I checked him out, Elle. He’s the right age. I even found his home address. Our parents are leaving tomorrow. Maybe we can go up there the following day.”

  I heard Grandpa coming down the stairs.

  “I have to get off the phone,” I said quickly. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Gotcha,” she said. She sounded so excited it was as if she had found her own father.

  I hung up quietly.

  Grandpa Prescott turned toward the kitchen. I fixed his sandwich and put it in the toaster oven just as he entered.

  “Did I hear the phone ring?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It wasn’t the hospital, was it?” he asked quickly.

  “No, Grandpa. It was someone calling the wrong number,” I told him.

  “Oh. Good. I mean, good that it wasn’t the hospital.”

  “It will be just a few minutes for your sandwich. I made some coffee. It should be ready any minute.”

  “Oh, fresh coffee. Good. You’ve stepped right into your grandmother’s shoes smoothly, Elle. She would have done just what you did, come upstairs to tell me I’d been sleeping too long.”

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”