The Heavenstone Secrets

by V. C. Andrews

  I could hear their voices again. They sounded different this time. Cassie’s was higher-pitched, as if she was angry. Soon after, I felt Porter moving over me again, fitting himself into me and turning me once more into that undulating wave. I thought I moaned and cried out, but I couldn’t be sure. My own voice sounded far off, outside my body. It was as if I had completely left my body and was watching some erotic scene played before me on my bed.

  I would never be sure, but the same scene was replayed. I had no idea of time, how long it went on. I no longer had any sense of myself, any control. I felt whipped about, turned, and prodded, then finally deserted and left to linger in this dark space, where I drifted and drifted, until finally, I bumped into something that led me to light and consciousness. I realized I was in my bed, so that part hadn’t been a dream. I was naked, too. When I tried to sit up, my head started to pound, so I fell back onto my pillow. The slight illumination seeping around my window curtains told me it was nearly morning. My throat felt so dry that when I swallowed, it was as if I had a mouth full of sandpaper. All I could do was close my eyes again, and again I fell asleep.

  This time, when I opened my eyes, it was bright in the room, and Cassie was standing by my bed looking down at me. She was in her robe—Mother’s robe, I should say.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  “What happened to me?”

  “You passed out at dinner, and we had to bring you up to bed. I undressed you and let you sleep. You shouldn’t have gulped the wine so quickly on an empty stomach. I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to what you were doing.”

  “I didn’t gulp it.”

  “Please. You drank four glasses. That’s a whole bottle by yourself, Semantha.”

  “I did?”

  “I’ll show you the empty bottle if you don’t believe me. You should have known your limit.”

  I started to sit up and groaned with the pain in my temples.

  “You’re having your first hangover,” Cassie said. “That’s good. It will teach you a valuable lesson. I hope.”

  I fell back onto the pillow again.

  Then some moments from my dream started to return.

  “Was Porter here when you undressed me?” I asked.

  “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “I had … dreams … I saw him.”

  “Please, spare me your erotic fantasies, Semantha. You’re going to be worthless to me all day today. I’ll bring something up to you that is said to help people with hangovers, although most of these recipes are tall tales. It’s like all the different solutions guaranteed to cure the hiccups.”

  She started to leave and then turned.

  “You nearly ruined one of my more spectacular dinners, but fortunately, I was able to rescue the situation.”

  “I’m sorry. Was Porter upset?”

  “Like any man, he was more amused than upset, although I reprimanded him for encouraging you. Let’s not tell Daddy about any of this. He’ll be the one who’s upset, and he’ll be mostly upset at me for letting you drink wine.”

  “No, he won’t. He gave me wine at dinner when you went out with Porter. Just one glass.”

  “Apparently, you didn’t take advantage of him as you did of me. We’ll have to get you up and looking at least half-awake by the time he comes home.” She thought a moment. “Just tell him you’re having a period if he asks. That works all the time with men.”

  “But I had my period two weeks ago.”

  “Really, Semantha, I strongly doubt your father noticed or knew.” She thought a moment. “Unless you told him. Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because I don’t think he would be comfortable hearing about it, or any female problems, as far as that goes. You just talk to me if you have any, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll bring you the drink, and then you should take a shower and move around to get your blood circulating.”

  “Thank you, Cassie. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head and left. I lay there struggling with my memory. Why didn’t I remember drinking so many glasses of wine? Was what I saw and felt in my dream really my own sexual fantasies, as she had said? My legs ached a little, and when I peeled away my blanket to look at myself, I saw what looked like a thin scratch on my right thigh. There was something else that confused me. The bedsheet was different from the one I had put on the bed. I felt pretty sure about this, because the one I had put on had some frills at the edges.

  The first thing I asked Cassie when she returned with the hangover drink was, “Did I throw up?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Don’t get me started. I had to wash you down and change your bedsheet. Fortunately, not the blanket. You don’t remember any of that?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Just drink this and forget about it for now. Take that shower and get dressed. Go outside and get some fresh air. Put some color back in your cheeks.”

  “What about Porter?”

  “What about him?”

  “Is he … are you going to see him again?”

  “We’ll see,” she said. “I don’t throw myself at men, Semantha. It takes a while to see what someone is really like. That’s why I was always trying to get you to go slowly, especially with that Kent. Now that you’ve seen a man like Porter, you can understand the difference, at least, can’t you? Well?”

  “Kent’s only a high-school boy. He’s not as old as Porter Andrew Hall.”

  “Makes no difference. You either have something of quality in you or you don’t. Never mind all of this for now. We’ll talk about it again when it’s time. Finish the drink.”

  I did, and she took the empty glass. She stared at me a moment.

  “What?”

  “I want you to start taking some vitamins, Semantha. Mother never believed in them, because we always ate so well, but there are nutrients you can’t get from the food we buy and eat. There’s too much processing. I’ll get some for you tomorrow.”

  “You don’t take vitamins.”

  “I’m going to start. We’ll start together,” she said. She smiled. “Like sisters should, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good.”

  She left again, and I went to take a shower, dress, and go outside as she had prescribed. Although it made me feel better, I was still very confused and disappointed in how little I could remember. I tried so hard that it hurt my head again, so I stopped and went in to complete the homework Mrs. Underwood had assigned for the weekend. That wasn’t easy. It was hard to read with a dull, pounding pain above my eyes, but I managed to get most of it done by the time Daddy came home.

  I was nervous when he saw me, but he was so interested in Cassie’s dinner for Porter Andrew Hall that he didn’t pay all that much attention to me. I suppose I should have been happy about that, but I was also jealous of the interest he took in whatever Cassie did as compared with whatever I did, even if it wasn’t something of which I should be proud. Was this the sibling rivalry Mother described, only in me instead of Cassie?

  To keep him from asking too many more questions, she began to fire questions at him about his trip, and before long, they were into a detailed discussion about the Heavenstone Stores. I didn’t have much of an appetite at dinner, but I was afraid that might attract Daddy’s attention, so I forced myself to eat as much as I always did. As soon as I could, I pretended I still had lots of homework to do and excused myself.

  “Semantha,” Daddy called as I started toward the stairway.

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  “You didn’t tell me your opinion of our Porter Andrew Hall.”

  I glanced at Cassie. There was no way to tell from her bland expression what she expected me to say.

  “He seems very nice,” I said, “and very interested in our stores.” That pleased Cassie.

  “Your sister has been advocating a promotion for him. I guess I’ll have to give it some serious thought. How are things going with thi
s Mrs. Underwood?”

  This time, Cassie knew I was looking to her for help.

  “The jury is still out on that, Daddy,” she replied for me.

  “Um,” he said. “Well, we’ll do what’s best,” he concluded, and went into the den for his after-dinner brandy.

  Cassie nodded at me, which was her stamp of approval, before she followed Daddy into the den.

  The days that followed seemed to run into each other until one became indistinguishable from the other. Cassie and Daddy were very busy with what Cassie called a full restructuring of our chain of stores. Sometimes, the two of them were so occupied that I was told to eat dinner without them. Aside from Mrs. Underwood, who was never the same since Cassie criticized her, I had nearly complete days without anyone else speaking to me. I watched a lot of television, ate junk food out of boredom, and slept a lot. After three weeks, I noticed I had gained some weight. My face looked bloated, and some of my jeans felt tighter at the waist. Neither Cassie nor Daddy noticed, or if either did, neither said a word. Even Mrs. Underwood didn’t mention anything, but at this point, she wasn’t looking at me as much as she was looking through me. At least, that was the way I felt.

  She became far more mechanical, dictating my work, explaining things almost as if she were speaking into a tape recorder and not to me, and made little comments about the work I completed. I had the sense that she was afraid to give me a compliment now, afraid that Cassie might jump down her throat for praising work that was not really exceptional. On a few occasions, while I was working on a math problem or completing pages in a workbook, she looked as if she was falling asleep.

  Finally, one day, she paused and said, “I really don’t understand why you’re not enrolled in either a public school or a private school, Semantha. You’re not an invalid or homebound by any illness. Don’t you miss being with other kids your age? Doing school activities, clubs, teams?”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Then why …” She held her hands up.

  I gave her Cassie’s stock explanation, but she shook her head.

  “First, you shouldn’t be running away from difficulties. You should be facing them and solving them. Hiding in your home like this is no solution. Second, I’m sure that’s all a bit of an exaggeration. I don’t want to sound like I’m diminishing your family’s tragedy, but there are many, many young people your age who have suffered similar things but don’t hide out.

  “Listen,” she said, getting softer in her tone, “I’m giving you advice that takes money out of my pocket, but I have to confess that I’m beginning to feel somewhat guilty about it. I don’t like taking advantage of people, especially young people. What do you do here all day after our lessons? Do you have any friends visit? Because I’ve never heard mention of any.”

  “No, no one.”

  She shook her head. “And your father approves of this?”

  I shrugged. How was I to explain to someone who wasn’t a member of our family how Daddy was so attentive to Cassie’s wishes and ideas? How was I to tell her that my sister, only a few years older than I, had stepped so completely into my mother’s shoes, at least when it came to parenting? My father was an important and influential businessman in the state. He was on a first-name basis with senators and congressmen, as well as the governor, but when it came down to my education and even Cassie’s, he seemed incapable of opposing her.

  Mrs. Underwood shook her head. “I think it’s time I had a conversation with him,” she muttered. “I don’t want you to think I don’t like you. It’s nothing like that, Semantha, but I’ve been in education all my life, and I have always placed the interests and needs of students ahead of my own. You’re doing the work I assign, but you’re only going through the motions. You’re not inspired by anything. You don’t show any special interest in any one subject, as you might if you were in a classroom with a good teacher. But,” she said, ending her little speech, “these are things I should be telling your father and not you.”

  I didn’t say she shouldn’t. Everything she had told me made sense and was what I believed in my heart, anyway. Besides, I was beginning to get cabin fever. Except for the grounds workers, I didn’t see another person. My longest walk was to go down the driveway to get the mail. Twice I asked Cassie why Porter hadn’t returned or why she wasn’t going out on another date. The first time, she ignored me completely. The second time, she said she was simply too busy right now. I didn’t follow with the next question, but it was on my lips. How can you be too busy to take a few hours out of a week and enjoy yourself?

  Because Mrs. Underwood didn’t say any more on the subject, I assumed she was just talking about doing something but never would or had, but two days later, before Cassie followed Daddy to the office, she came into the kitchen while I was cleaning up after breakfast and told me Mrs. Underwood would no longer be my tutor.

  “What?”

  “Just what I said. Mrs. Underwood is finished here, Semantha.”

  “But she gave me assignments for today.”

  “We paid her off late yesterday afternoon. She had the tenacity, the nerve, to go to your father and tell him everything I had suggested we do for now was dreadfully wrong. Daddy called me in, and I had it out with her right in front of him. He saw what a weak, insecure, stupid woman she was after all.

  “I’ll tell you what I think,” she continued. “I think she jumped at this job, this opportunity, because somewhere in that rotting brain of hers, she fantasized about winning Daddy.”

  “Winning Daddy? What do you mean?”

  “Christmas trees, Semantha. She’s a widow. Daddy is a recent widower and a tremendous catch for any woman.”

  “Mrs. Underwood? But she’s … isn’t she older than him?”

  “What does that matter? There are thousands of men out there being seduced by older women, especially when those men are vulnerable after suffering a loss. I saw the way she looked at him when she saw him in the house. I’m sure she thought that if she went to see him and gave him this story, which would result in her losing income, he would be so impressed he’d want to see her again or maybe even beg her to stay on, and then pay more attention to her. I could hear her thoughts, but I smothered them quickly. You can be sure of that,” she said.

  “What did you do?”

  “I agreed with her. She’s not the right tutor for you right now. I explained to Daddy right in front of her that you have not grown as a student, that your work is about as mediocre as it ever was, if not worse, and that she wasn’t moving you forward at a fast enough pace. If we continued with Mrs. Underwood, you’d be behind when you finally attended a good private school, and you’d have to go to remedial classes.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She sputtered and protested and tried to argue, but I was too much for her. Daddy saw the light. He thanked her and paid her an additional month’s salary. While he wrote the check, I stood at his side and stared her down. She couldn’t leave quickly enough. Starting tomorrow,” she said, “I’ll take over the tutoring until we find someone else who’s qualified.”

  “When will that be?”

  “The school year’s almost over, Semantha. There’s no reason to panic.”

  I didn’t know what to say. With Mrs. Underwood gone, I would see no one else but Daddy and Cassie. At least, Mrs. Underwood had been some company.

  “How are you feeling?” Cassie asked, suddenly changing the subject. “Have you been taking the vitamins I brought?”

  “Yes. Why were they in a medicine bottle? Didn’t you buy them in a store?”

  “No. These are special, Semantha. The average person doesn’t get these. They can’t afford them. What’s the point of having all this money if we don’t use it to our advantage?” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go. Enjoy your day off.”

  “Day off? Except for the hours I spent with Mrs. Underwood, there’s nothing different about it.”

  “I promise. We’ll do more now. I don’t
have to be at the office as much. Things are under control, and changes are up and running.” She smiled. “A good executive, a really good one, knows whom to assign the work to and whom to depend upon. Take out the pork loin roast for tonight. You know how to prepare it now,” she ordered, as if to illustrate her point. Then she smiled and left.

  During the weeks that followed, Cassie kept her promise. What I thought at first would be a dreadful situation actually became something wonderful. We were finally behaving like two sisters. She was with me from morning until bedtime. We went shopping together, ate lunches out, and, of course, worked on my school material. Rarely had I seen her so patient with my difficulties in understanding various problems in math or my mistakes on the questions in science and social studies. Cassie enjoyed tutoring me in English the best. She loved grammar and made a game of it by illustrating the lessons when we were out. She would turn to me after a waitress or waiter said something and ask me when they were gone, “Okay, what was the grammatical error?”

  Our work in the kitchen preparing dinner was more enjoyable, too. Usually, if I made a mistake, even as small a mistake as cutting the bread unevenly or putting too much of one vegetable on the plate and not enough of another, she was all over me, claiming I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. Now, though, she seemed truly to enjoy teaching me a new recipe or a new technique for making something we always ate.

  Every day, I expected her to tell me she was going out again with Porter, but that wasn’t happening. I was afraid to ask, afraid she would get angry and it would all go back to the way it had been between us. She never mentioned him to me, but I did hear her talk about him with Daddy, and when she did, she was always very flattering. It was clear that she was pushing Daddy to promote him and get rid of the man who was the store manager now. If she liked him that much, why didn’t she want to go out with him again? Finally, I took the chance of asking.