Lightning Strikes

by Virginia Andrews

  I lifted one of my suitcases and struggled a bit with the other when suddenly Boggs appeared.

  “I’ll get that,” he barked. “You go on ahead. There’s a phone call for you.”

  “Phone call?”

  He grunted and went for my suitcases. I returned to the main part of the house and lifted the receiver on the hallway table where Boggs apparently had left it for me.

  “Hello?”

  “Rain, it’s Randall. I just heard from Leslie that you had some bad news today and had to leave school. I was looking everywhere for you. What happened?”

  “I have to return to America, Randall,” I said. “My grandmother has passed away.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, can I call you somewhere?”

  “I’ll write you a letter,” I said, “and tell you more when I know more.”

  “Promise?”

  “I don’t like to make promises, Randall. Too many have been made and broken for me so I just say what I’ll do and I do it,” I told him.

  “I believe you. I wish I could see you before you leave.”

  “I’m just about ready to go. We’re on a night flight.”

  “Wow. That is fast. What about. . . you know who?” he asked.

  “I’ve written him a letter.”

  “I’ll be thinking about you,” he said. “And that’s not a promise; it’s a fact.”

  “Okay, Randall. Thank you,” I said, smiling.

  “Rain. You’re really the nicest girl I ever met. I’m sorry about what I did to ruin it.”

  “That’s another thing I’m tired of, Randall, apologies. You don’t have to make any. We didn’t get involved enough to owe each other any promises or any apologies,” I said. I was sorry I sounded so cold, but my emotions felt like they had been running on empty for hours and hours.

  “I know,” he said. “But I wish we had. Have a good trip, Rain.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Bye,” he said. “I’ll be thinking of you next song I sing.”

  “Bye,” I said and placed the receiver in the cradle. I truly wondered if we would ever see each other again, or just be memories dwindling into shadows.

  Boggs went by with my bags, glanced at me and continued on.

  I could hear my great-aunt and great-uncle coming down the stairway. I took one final look at the big house. It was really never a home to me. Perhaps it could be a home only to ghosts, living and dead. I moved quickly to join my great-aunt and great-uncle at the door and we all walked out to the waiting Rolls. Boggs had already put their luggage in the boot. He held the door open for them and they got in quickly. I looked at him and then followed. No one spoke. Moments later, we were on our way to the airport.

  We all slept for most of the trip across the Atlantic. When we arrived in Richmond, Jake was waiting for us at the gate. I felt like running into his arms so we could comfort each other. One look at his face told me of his great sorrow. His thick, bushy eyebrows were turned in toward each other as the ripples of deep sadness formed on his forehead. When he saw me, his eyes brightened and he smiled.

  “Hello, Princess,” he said before he greeted the Endfields. My Great-uncle Richard was obviously displeased about that.

  “You can help us with our carry-ons,” he told Jake.

  “Oh, sure,” Jake said. He pulled a cart around and filled it quickly with the smaller bags. Then he looked at Great-aunt Leonora and said, “Sorry for your trouble, Mrs. Endfield.”

  “Yes,” she said in a dreamy, far-off voice, “yes, thank you, Jake. Do you know if she suffered any at the end?”

  “How would he know, Leonora? He’s not your sister’s doctor. He’s your sister’s chauffeur.”

  “From what I understand, Mrs. Endfield,” Jake replied ignoring Great-uncle Richard, “it happened so quickly, she didn’t have time for pain. That would be like her,” he added for me.

  He leaned toward me as we continued toward the baggage carousels.

  “You look all the lady now, Princess. She’d be damn proud,” he whispered.

  I smiled and squeezed his hand. He looked at me quickly, feeling how my own hand was trembling.

  “How is my niece?” Great-aunt Leonora asked him.

  “And which one would you mean, Mrs. Endfield?”

  “Victoria, of course,” Great-uncle Richard said sharply. It was as if they’d already plucked my mother out of their family tree.

  “Oh. She’s doing fine. She’s at the house waiting on you all. Megan will be here with her family early in the afternoon,” he added.

  “It takes a funeral for us to see her,” Great-aunt Leonora moaned.

  “Humph,” my Great-uncle Richard grunted.

  Jake glanced back at him and then at me, winking.

  I had one friend forever, I thought.

  “How’s Rain?” I asked him.

  “Oh, boy, she’s prime. Wait until you set eyes on her,” he said.

  “Who are you two talking about?” Great-aunt Leonora asked, overhearing.

  “My racehorse, Mrs. Endfield.”

  “You named a horse after this girl?”

  “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 Great-uncle 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?” Great-aunt 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 Great-uncle 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 can talk.”

  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.

  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.”