Hudson 01 Rain

by V. C. Andrews

  Our mother tried to please her. Brody told her to stuff it and Victoria simply glared sullenly. Apparently, she hadn't been satisfied with their socalled family meeting, and the way she was staring at me from time to time made me feel very

  uncomfortable. This wasn't turning out to be as good as I had hoped our first get-together would be. Where was the love that was supposed to flow among members of the same family? What did family really mean to these people? I wondered. Did I even want them to ever know we were related?

  Just as he promised, when the meal ended Brody volunteered to help clear the dishes and told Alison to help, too.

  "Why? I'm not the maid. She is," she whined.

  "Rain wasn't brought here to be my maid," Grandmother Hudson said sharply.

  "I still don't understand why she was brought here, Grandmother. Why is your house suddenly a foster home?"

  "I didn't come here as a foster child," I snapped at her.

  "Why did you then?"

  I looked at my mother.

  "We've been through this already, Alison. I explained what the Save a Child Foundation's purpose was."

  "Yeah, you know about that," Brody said. "Just last night you and Rachel Sanders were talking about it at Rachel's, right?" he said with a wry smile. He gave me a side glance. "Billy Crammer told me all about it."

  Alison shot darts at him from her eyes, but he held his smile.

  "Don't you remember what you did just last night?" "Shut up, Brody."

  "You want to help clean up, right?" he emphasized.

  She looked at Grandmother Hudson and then at me. Without comment, she picked up her own dishes and silverware and headed for the kitchen.

  Brody smiled at me.

  Alison really wasn't much help and in fact, when she went to hand me a bowl, she deliberately let go before I had my fingers around it and it shattered at our feet. "You're so clumsy!" she cried.

  I stared at her. Boy, I thought, would Beni make mincemeat out of you.

  "That was your fault, Alison," Brody said. "I saw it."

  "It was not."

  "What's going on in here?" Grandmother Hudson asked from the doorway.

  "She dropped a bowl," Alison said pointing to me scraping up the pieces.

  "No, she didn't, Grandmother. It was Alison's fault," Brody said.

  Grandmother paused for a moment when she looked at him. Then she turned to me.

  "Just clean it up," she said.

  "Why are you such a bitch, Alison?" Brody asked as soon as Grandmother left.

  "How come you're taking her side?" Her round eyes became oval and cold. "What, do you like her? She's black, Brody."

  "Shut your mouth," he said through clenched teeth. Alison smiled.

  "You do like her. I'll tell Mother how successful her charity work is," she said, glanced down at me, and left the kitchen.

  "I'm sorry about her," Brody said.

  "Forget about it. I've heard a lot worse."

  "I know you have. It's not fair," Brody said.

  "Fair? That's a word that was removed from my vocabulary a long time ago," I said bitterly. "I'd better get the mop."

  "I'll finish bringing stuff in," he said and went out to the dining room.

  He and I put away the leftovers, put the dishes into the dishwasher and cleaned up the sink and counters. When we were finished, we discovered everyone had gone back to the living room to talk. Alison had been upstairs and learned I had been given what was supposedly her guest room. As we walked down the corridor, we could hear her grumbling about it.

  "Suppose I want to stay over one weekend," she whined. "Where do I stay?"

  "I only have four other bedrooms available, Alison," Grandmother Hudson said.

  "It's not the same. That was my room. It will always have a smell now. I don't ever want to stay in it again," she declared and stomped out. She paused when she confronted us in the hallway.

  "We heard what you said, Alison. You're pathetic," Brody told her.

  "I'm pathetic?" She looked from him to me and then to him. Her smile was like a slice in her face, but wide enough to show some silver braces. "I'm ashamed I'm related to you," she told him and charged off. Imagine, I thought, what she would say to me.

  As we reached the living room doorway, my mother appeared.

  "Where are you going, Brody?" she asked, looking quickly from him to me.

  "I was going to show Rain where I used to have a tree house."

  "I'm afraid we have to leave soon, Brody," she said. "I thought we weren't going until four."

  "We have to leave earlier," she said again looking at me, "and you should be spending more time with your grandmother."

  "It's all right. I have some studying to do," I said. Brody looked very disappointed.

  "All right," he said. "You know what, Ma," he said, "I think I'll come down to see Grandmother next weekend, and I'd like to go to Rain's play."

  I could almost hear my mother suck in her breath. Her eyes lit with absolute fear.

  "You can't come down next weekend, Brody. We're having the Samsons for dinner and Daddy wants you and Alison to be there because they're bringing their children."

  "But their children are years younger."

  "We'll discuss it later, Brody," my mother said with fear in her eyes.

  "Okay, okay. But I'm coming to the play so don't plan on me being anywhere else that weekend."

  "It's not going to be that great, Brody," I said.

  "What did I tell you about being negative?" he said with a smile.

  "Please come in and spend some time with Grandmother," my mother pleaded in a softer voice.

  Brody nodded.

  "Should I say good-bye now?" he asked me.

  "Yes," I said. "Good-bye." I turned to my mother. "Have a nice trip home, Mrs. Randolph."

  "Thank you," she said.

  We held each other's glance for a moment and then I walked quickly to the stairway. I didn't look back.

  When I got to my room, I closed the door and sat by the window gazing out at the thin line of gauzelike clouds that stretched lazily across the horizon. These people will always feel like strangers to me, I thought. What did Mama hope would happen? I never missed her as much as I did this very moment, I went to the phone to call her at Aunt Sylvia's. It rang and rang with no one answering. Disappointed, I sprawled on my bed and closed my eyes. Memories of Mama, Roy and Beni began to unspool across the screen of my mind. Some of them brought a smile. Sometimes, it's easier to dwell in the past, I thought. if we didn't have our memories, we wouldn't have a doorway of escape.

  Just then there was a soft knock on my door. I sat up. What if Brody had snuck upstairs?

  "Yes?"

  My mother opened the door and stepped in.

  "I just came up quickly to talk to you. I'm sorry about being so abrupt downstairs before, but... what happened between you and Brody?"

  "Nothing," I said warily, beginning to understand why she'd acted so strangely. "I certainly didn't encourage him, if that's what you think."

  She looked relieved.

  "Of course I don't believe that. It's just that for now ... it's a bit of a delicate situation. Please discourage him from coming to your play, should he call you," she said.

  "I'll try, but he seems to be a very determined person." She smiled and nodded.

  "It didn't take long for you to see that. Anyway, I'm glad you're getting along so well with my mother."

  "Victoria is not so glad," I said.

  "I know."

  "Have you told her the truth?" I asked.

  "No, not yet. Mother's doing a good job of holding that eventuality off."

  "Why is that necessary?" I pursued.

  "Victoria won't...handle it well," she admitted. "I told you. We haven't been as close as sisters should be. I think I was seven years old the last time I told her something secret and she went and told my father immediately to try to get me into trouble.

  "Don't worry about it," she contin
ued. "You're doing so well here. I'm proud of you."

  I looked at her with surprise.

  "I know I can't show it as much as I would like, but I am," she insisted. "Good luck with the play," she said. She smiled and backed out, closing the door softly.

  Loneliness made my stomach feel so hollow inside. My heart ached, but I wouldn't let my tears rise to the surface. I swallowed them back, pressing them down into the well and pouring in anger to seal them tightly.

  I should take what I can from these people, I thought. Mama was right about that. I should be just like Alison, self-centered- and spoiled, and fill my pockets. Then, when I was satisfied, I would go running back to Mama and we would have a good laugh.

  All of us together, laughing at the rich white family that was choking on its secrets and lies.

  I should, I should, I chanted, but in my secret heart of hearts, I knew I couldn't be like Alison.

  I could only be myself. I really was like Emily Webb, innocent and trusting.

  Maybe if I threw myself into Corbette's arms, I could change.

  And then maybe, I could survive in this new world.

  18

  The Big Night

  .

  Grandmother Hudson finally found a new maid

  she believed was qualified and not too soon either, for as the play's opening drew closer, Mr. Bufurd wanted to work more and more with Corbette and me, sometimes spending whole rehearsals just on us. Exams were coming up as well and I had more than enough to study because I had so much catching up to do. I had tried to think of meals that didn't require a great deal of preparation time, and I fell behind on dusting and cleaning. Grandmother Hudson had seen me scurrying about and realized how busy I was.

  Fortunately, an African-American woman named Sissy Williams made an excellent first impression. She was tall and stocky with a small bosom and long arms. She claimed to be forty-one, but Grandmother Hudson believed her to be closer to fifty, maybe even fifty-five.

  "I don't care if she lies about her age," she told me, "as long as she can do the work we need done."

  Sissy had a pleasant disposition with a melodious, happy voice, but she was serious and efficient about the housework, which Grandmother Hudson liked. She took great pride in her work, especially her meal preparation. It only took one dinner to realize she was a very good cook who made a delicious sweet potato pie. She had been born in South Carolina and had worked once in her uncle's restaurant as a chef. She had never been married, but she talked about her nieces and nephews as if they were her own children. I liked her from the start because she had many of Mama's sayings in her book of wisdom. What I especially admired about her was her self-confidence. If I did anything in the kitchen or helped her prepare something, she didn't feel threatened as Merilyn had.

  Jake liked her too, and he enjoyed handicapping Grandmother. Hudson's newly hired servants.

  "This one might last," he told me. "She's just old-fashioned enough to please the queen."

  I laughed and then asked him if Mrs. Hudson knew how often and how much he made fun of her.

  "Oh, I don't make fun of her, princess. I kid her a bit now and then, but she knows I admire her. She knows," he said, his voice trailing off as his eyes grew distant and misty.

  "You knew her when she was younger, Jake. Was she always so strong and independent?"

  "Yes," he said without hesitation. He gazed at me and smiled. "She was always someone who knew what she wanted and got what she wanted when she wanted it. Defeat and disappointment just aren't in her vocabulary. I pity the fool who gets in her way," he added. "Why?" he asked, suddenly thinking about my question. "Is she threatening to put you in the dungeon again?"

  "No," I said. I smiled to myself. If Jake only knew that Grandmother Hudson had put me in her will, wouldn't he be shocked? Or would he? I wondered. He seemed to know a lot more about everyone in this family than I'd expect a chauffeur to know.

  He stared at me for a long moment and then shook his head with a smile. On the way home from school, we stopped to look at his horse. There was such a sense of contentment about him when he looked at the colt. Surely he would have been a wonderful husband and father, I thought.

  "How come you never married and settled down, Jake?" I asked him.

  "I don't know, princess," he said. "It just wasn't in the cards, I guess."

  "You think things happen because they're destined to happen, Jake?"

  He turned to me with that half smile on his face again.

  "I know you're a pretty smart young lady and you read a lot and think a lot, Rain, but I just don't think about it all that much. I take it as it comes, sort of like that leaf there blowin' in the wind," he said nodding at a leaf that had leaped off a branch and danced its way toward the tall grass. "Wherever 1 land, that's where I am."

  "Maybe that's the best way to be," I said.

  He shrugged.

  "Don't know. Like I said. I don't think about it," he told me and with his eyes filled with awe and amusement, he continued gazing at his beautiful horse.

  I really didn't know how old Jake was, but from what he had told me and from what he had described, I figured him to be as old or even a little older than Grandmother Hudson. They were so different and yet, when they looked at each other, I saw something between them, some little acknowledgment, some special exchange of understanding that only they could hear. How I wished I could someday tell Jake the truth about myself and this family and listen to what he had to tell me about it all. Perhaps I was looking at him as I wished I was able to look upon the father I never had.

  Just another dream, I thought. Just another dream. I put it away and went on with my days and nights, concentrating on what was real and what had to be.

  Toward the end of the week, I was surprised by a phone call from Brody. Since I hadn't heard from him or heard Grandmother Hudson mention him, I forgot about his possible--visit. He phoned early in the evening. As soon as I heard his voice, my heart began a mad pitter-patter. He sounded very nervous, too.

  "How's the terrible play going?" he kidded.

  "Terrible. Everyone, including our director, is getting anxious about it. Some of the actors still don't know their lines well enough," I told him, which wasn't a lie.

  "At least you don't have to worry about scenery, right?"

  "Yes, but Mr. Bufurd is trying to do some special things with lighting and it's not working as well as he'd hoped it would," I said. "I really don't think you should bother coming. It's not worth the trip."

  "I'm really coming to see my grandmother," he offered. "She's getting along in her years and after this recent scare, I feel guilty about not being there more often. I mean, I've got my own car. It's not a problem."

  "Don't you have studying to do too? Your mother said you were battling to be the valedictorian next year."

  "I don't really care about it. I've been offered a full scholarship to play football at U.S.C. after I graduate next year if I want," he said. "You know where that is, right?"

  I was too nervous to think.

  "That's Los Angeles."

  "Oh."

  "Pretty far away. Where do you think you'll end up going to school?"

  "I don't know. I haven't really thought about going to college."

  "From what I see, you shouldn't have any trouble getting into a good college. When the time comes, why don't you think about U.S.C., too?" he asked.

  "I'm afraid to plan anything," I said.

  "I understand. All this opportunity is so new for you. Have you been down to my special spot at the lake to look at the fish?" he asked.

  "No," I said.

  "See? I've got to get there or you'll never appreciate that place. Get me a good house seat."

  "Pardon?"

  "The star of the show should be able to reserve the best seat in the theater for me," he explained. "They call them house seats."

  I didn't know what to say. If I went ahead and reserved a seat for him, my mother would surely think
I was encouraging his coming.

  "Really, you shouldn't bother," I said.

  "It's a done deal, Rain. When that curtain opens, I'll be looking up at you," he insisted.

  "Does your mother know?" I asked softly. Throughout this conversation, I felt like I was tiptoeing over a floor of shattered glass.

  "Not yet, but she'll know later today. Don't forget to get me the seat and oh, if you're free afterward, maybe I can take you for something to eat."

  My heart felt as if it had fallen into my stomach.

  "I can't," I said. "I promised to be at a cast party."

  "Oh." His voice dropped. Now maybe he won't come, I thought. "Well... maybe I'll crash," he added with a rebound. "After all, I know the star."

  I just gave him a nervous, little laugh. How was I supposed to discourage him? Every obstacle I put up, he either leaped or smashed aside.

  We talked a little about Grandmother and her new maid and he told me how he and Alison had been giving each other the silent treatment ever since their visit.

  "I hate to be the cause of trouble between you and your sister," I said.

  "You're not. She's just a brat."

  When we finally ended the conversation, I felt as if I had backed myself into a dark alley with only one way out. Every time I heard the phone ring in the house after that, I expected it would be my mother wanting to know why I didn't try harder to keep Brody from coming to spend a weekend. She didn't call, but she drove down by herself to talk to me and to Grandmother Hudson about it and that was the beginning of a terrible new crisis.

  .

  When Jake drove me up to the house after school the next day, he said, "Uh-oh."

  My mother's car was parked in front and right behind it was Victoria's.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Big family confab goin' on," he said. "Those two don't get together that often here. Something's up."

  I felt my heart stop and start as I stepped out of the car. "Be careful in there," Jake joked. "You don't want to get hit by anything they throw at each other."