Early Spring 01 Broken Flower

by V. C. Andrews

  I hurried out, looking back once at him before I closed his door. He looked different, still flushed. I knew he wasn't alloy at me, but what was confusing was he looked like he was angry at himself.

  I closed the door and went to my room. Not long after. Mama came to my room to see if I had gone to bed. She was in her nightgown already and I could see that she had been crying. Her eyes were still bloodshot.

  "Grandmother Emma came to see me downstairs," I told her. "I was watching television and she came into the room and asked me to stand up."

  6: Not a Freak Page 103

  "She said I was getting very tall, growing fast like her sister. Francis, and my clothes were inappropriate, my dress too short."

  "Francis? That's interesting," she said. She thought a moment and then shook her head. "Did she ask you anything else? Did you tell her anything about going to the doctor?" she asked very quickly.

  "No, Mama."

  "Be sure you don't," she said. "We want to keep this from her as long as we can. I don't relish having her comment and complain or even offer advice." She fixed my blanket. "I intended to take you for new clothes. She's not wrong about that. We'll do it this weekend on your birthday. You need something nice for your birthday dinner. Your father promised to take us all out to your favorite restaurant, the Japanese place where they cook the food right in front of you."

  "And then we're going to the cabin?" I asked before thinking.

  "Yes," she said. "Maybe for longer this time."

  I was happy she knew and it wasn't a secret kept from her. "It will do us all good to get away from here," she told me. I knew she really meant to get away from Grandmother Emma. "Are you all right?"

  I nodded and she leaned down to kiss me. "You're just a little girl," she said. "This is so unfair. Your youth is being stolen from you."

  I didn't speak even though I wondered what she meant. Who was stealing it? How can youth be stolen anyway? It wasn't like anything you kept in drawers and boxes. Tears were coming from her eyes now as she stroked my hair. She sucked in her breath and flicked off her tears quickly.

  "You'll be all right," she said. "Why are you crying, Mama?"

  "It's nothing. Don't mind me. I'm just not doing well tonight. I'll be better tomorrow. Good night," she said, and left me, closing the door softly.

  I lay there with my eyes open and my hand on my stomach. Then slowly, I brought my fingers back to my nipple and touched it like Ian had done.

  I saw from the expression on his face that what he learned about me had upset him. Did that mean something terrible was going to happen?

  I curled up quickly like the caterpillar and filled my mind with hope.

  It worked, not only because I fell asleep quickly, but because in the morning, after breakfast. Mama received a phone call from Dr. Dell'Acqua, who told her I had no tumor in my brain. My problem was a result of hormones, she said, and she was going to prescribe a medicine that she believed would stop the precocious puberty.

  The news made Daddy happy, too. Suddenly, it was like a wind had come blowing through the grand house, pushing away the bad weather, the darkness and clouds. Grandmother Emma had obviously not complained to Daddy about Mama's yelling at her and banging the table either. They had no arguments about it.

  In fact, Mama was smiling and she and Daddy were even laughing together. What's more, the school year ended and I left without any of my friends knowing anything about what was happening to me. I had been able to keep our secret locked up tightly. It all started to look perfect. Plans were definitely set for my birthday dinner. Grandmother Emma was invited, but she hated the Japanese restaurant and the idea of cooking going on right in front of her nose.

  She surprised me that morning, however, by having my birthday present at breakfast on my chair, All the other times, she waited until my actual birthday dinner.

  "You may open it now," she said, and I quickly did. Everyone waited and watched.

  I took out a coral shade silk dress with a hot pink slip. There was an embroidered flower garden on the hem.

  "That should be perfect for evenings at the lake." Grandmother Emma said. "And it's the correct length," she added, glancing at Mama.

  There was a shoe box, too, with a pair of light pink leather buckle sandals.

  It was the cutest, most fashionable dress she had ever bought for me. I loved it, but when I looked at Mama's face, she looked upset, worried.

  "You can go try it on," Grandmother Emma said. "I'd like to be sure it all fits you well."

  "Let her do it after breakfast.'" Mama interjected.

  Grandmother Emma didn't look pleased, but said nothing. Breakfast was served. Daddy described some of the economic improvements he had made at the supermarket. He was having the storage area renovated to make more efficient use of it.

  Grandmother Emma looked on him with approval in her eyes. She announced that in the fall she might hold one of her charity parties at the house just as she had during her Golden Age. It did sound exciting. Even Mama looked interested. Were all our troubles really dissolving?

  Afterward. I went upstairs to put on the silk dress and the sandals. Mama came into my room with me.

  "Oh. God,' she said. The bodice was snug so that my buds were clearly revealed, even prominent. She went to my closet.

  "Put this undershirt on first," she told me, and handed the sleeveless undershirt to me. It at least subdued my nipples, but didn't flatten me entirely. "That will have to do," she said.

  The sandals fit perfectly.

  "I don't know how she picked out ones that fit you. I had no idea she knew your sizes. I guess she really doesn't miss much," Mama said. This time it sounded more like a compliment than a complaint about her. "Give the devil her due," she added.

  We went downstairs to model it all for Grandmother Emma, who was in the hallway, giving Nancy some orders about housecleaning. She was displeased with something so much that when she turned, she didn't look me over that carefully.

  "Very nice," she said, concentrating on the hem most of all. "I'm taking her for clothes this afternoon," Mama told her.

  "Good idea," Grandmother Emma said, and returned to what she had been saying to Nancy.

  "For once I'm happy she's absorbed in only what really interests her," Mama muttered, and hurried me away.

  We spent the day shopping. Saleswomen were happy to see my mother in the department stores and all inquired after her health, as if they believed she had been away recuperating or something, because they hadn't seen her shopping that often.

  "Look how big she's gotten," one of the more familiar salesladies said, looking at me.

  Mama forced a smile to her face as if she was happy about it, but she tried to find clothes that deemphasized my development--loose fitting blouses, athletic shirts. We bought new sneakers and sandals, but the most difficult thing to find was a new bathing suit. We finally discovered a rose petal two-piece skirted suit that had a bulky top and was very concealing. She bought mc another in a blue color, too.

  All in all, as we drove home. I could see Mama was happy about my new summer wardrobe. Once again, she told me she was actually looking forward to spending most of the summer up at the lake.

  "I'll get a lot of reading done. We'll have picnics and go for boat rides and I'll take you and Ian to the fun park and we'll go horseback riding. They have that art show up there every summer and we'll eat in the nice little restaurants when Daddy comes up on the weekends. Ian needs to be outdoors more, too." She laughed, which was good to hear, and added, "I'd even go on one of his nature hunts with him."

  "Me, too," I said.

  I had forgotten how wonderful my mother's smile could be, but once she flashed it at me, it filled me with pleasure and caterpillar hope.

  We were both surprised to see Daddy's car in front of the house when we drove up. Usually, he spent all day at the supermarket office or meeting with people. He was never home this early. Maybe he was here because of my birthday. I thought.
He was going to spend more time with me.

  "I thought he had that meeting with the men renovating the storage area," she muttered when we parked. I could see the look of concern sinking into her face and darkening her eyes with worry.

  The sunshine that had begun my birthday was being pushed away by bully clouds shoving the blue sky toward the horigon. I embraced some of my packages and bags and followed my mother into the house. The moment we entered. Daddy stepped out of the living room and glared at us, his face so red with irritation, he looked like he had broken out in a rash.

  "My mother wants to speak to you," he told Mama.

  "After I put Jordan's things away," she said.

  "No. Caroline," he said. "Now. Just put all that on the bench there for the time being," he added, nodding at an antique bench in the entryway.

  He was calling Mama "Caroline" instead of "Carol." No question about it. I thought, there was trouble.

  No one seemed to take notice of me. I stood back while Mama did what Daddy had asked and walked to the living room. She didn't even tell me to go upstairs. She was that upset. I edged my way toward the living room and stood outside. Through the doorway I saw my mother standing and facing Grandmother Emma, who sat in her regal Victorian mahogany parlor chair, her arms on the chair arms, her back straight.

  "What is it that couldn't possibly wait a few more minutes. Emma?" my mother demanded.

  "I happened to have a conversation with Rene Dell'Acqua today," Grandmother Emma began.

  I saw my mother's body stiffen, as if she had just been whipped across the back.

  "A conversation that turned out to be more about Jordan than me."

  "She has no right to discuss her patient's private medical information with anyone," my mother responded sharply, without wiating to hear another word.

  "I'm not anyone, Caroline. I'm the girl's grandmother. I'm disappointed in both you and my son, keeping such a thing a secret from me."

  "We live under your roof, but we do try to have our own lives. Emma," my mother said. She looked to Daddy to see if he would come to her aid, but he just stared at the floor, looking to me like a little boy who had been caught doing something naughty.

  "Your lives, as you say, are not as separate from mine and from all this as you imagine or even would like, Caroline. Even though Bethlehem Steel is no more. I am still friends with the wives and families of former executives, not to mention many other influential people in this community. We are still on a stage, still looked up to, admired, the center of social attention. The March name follows you everywhere, and where you go, therefore. I go. Now," she said, waving her hand to chase away any further discussion about that, "who knows about this.. .this thing besides us?"

  "No one, Emma. I don't go gossiping about my child's problems."

  "That's unusual these days," Grandmother Emma said. "Most people can't wait to air their dirty laundry and others are glued to television sets watching them do it."

  "I don't consider what's happening to Jordan to be dirty laundry. God. Christopher," she said, suddenly turning on Daddy, "can you speak up for once?"

  "What do you want me to do? I told you we shouldn't keep it from Mother."

  "What?" Mama literally cringed and pulled away from him as though he could infect her with a disease.

  I stepped back from the door. I. too, knew that wasn't true and I didn't want Daddy to see I had overheard.

  "Let's end this ridiculous bickering before it even begins," Grandmother Emma said. "None of that is important. What's important is the girl's condition. Rene will let me know if we need a specialist on the case. Thank goodness you're taking her to the cabin, where no one we know will be able to see her."

  "I'm not afraid of anyone seeing her! She's not a freak," my mother practically shouted.

  "It's no one's business what she is or what she isn't," Grandmother Emma said, this time not fleeing from Mama. She looked at Daddy and then at the floor as she shook her head. "I feel like such a fool, talking about how she's grown and buying that present without knowing the reason for all this. Such a fool. I won't have it," she said, slapping the arm of the chair. "Don't let me learn something about my own family from someone else again. I'm to be consulted about every decision and every action, do you understand?"

  Mama stared at her and then she turned again to Daddy. "Christopher? Well?" Daddy didn't speak. "Did I marry you or you and your mother?"

  Grandmother Emma grunted, but said nothing.

  "There's nothing wrong with Mother being involved. She knows more doctors and even has connections at the university. Look. Mother," he said, "I'm sorry you were surprised by all this, but it all happened so quickly and--"

  "That's all I want to hear or say about this," Grandmother Emma said abruptly. "The important thing is what has to be done will be done."

  She rose and walked out of the living room, pausing when she saw me standing there. "Francis," she muttered to herself, but loudly enough for me to hear, and then she continued down the hallway.

  Why did she call me Francis or think of her again when she looked at me? My heart was pounding, filling my chest with every thump.

  And my curiosity about my great-aunt was too great to restrain. I'd open one of those locked closet doors yet. I thought. In fact, it was almost as if Grandmother Emma was urging me to do so. 7

  The Best Birthday Party I Ever Had

  .

  "How could you say that? How could you make me look like the bad one in front of her!" Mama shouted at Daddy.

  Ian heard them and came midway down the stairs. They were standing in the hallway.

  "Will you lower your voice, Caroline?"

  "No, I will not lower my voice. I won't cower like some child in this house. How could you do that? Are you that afraid of your own mother?"

  "I'm simply trying to make things easier," Daddy said, reducing his voice to a loud whisper. "It doesn't do us any good for her to feel we're conspiring to deliberately hide things from her, does it? It's better this way."

  "You mean it's better that I'm the sole one at fault?"

  "It's easier for me to make peace with her. Just calm down. It will pass," Daddy said.

  "You're damn right it will pass," Mama told him. She marched to the stairway, remembered my things, and went back to the bench to get them. "C'mon upstairs, Jordan. We'll put your things away for now," she said, seizing my hand and practically dragging me to the stairway. "It is supposed to be a happy day, your birthday," she added, practically right into Daddy's face.

  I looked at Daddy and then at Ian, who seemed disappointed it was only a spat between Mama and Daddy. He turned and went back upstairs to his room. I didn't know what it would take for him to become upset or troubled by something happening in our family. To me he always looked like he had expected it, anticipated it, or at times, even welcomed it, because it was something else to write in his journal, whereas I couldn't hide my fear and sadness.

  "Don't worry, Jordan," Mama told me in my bedroom. "I won't let this ruin your birthday dinner."

  I really wasn't worried about that. I was confused and troubled about Daddy's lying. It was the first time I caught him doing so. I never thought he was as perfect as Mama. I 'mew he had failed in his schoolwork and I knew he wasn't a very good businessman. Grandmother Emma never let us forget any of that, but I still thought of him as being a good person who loved us. He just couldn't love us as much as our mother loved us because he was too busy trying to succeed.

  Whenever my mother complained about my father working too much or being away from us too long, he would throw up his hands and cry, "I'm just trying to get some independence for this family, Caroline. You don't want to be dependent on my mother forever, do you?"

  "I don't ever want to be dependent on your mother," Mama would reply, and he would shrug.

  "So? Let me work at it."

  "Work at it forever for all I care," she muttered, and turned away from him.

  Daddy would look at me
if I were in the same room or nearby, and say, "Women."

  I had no idea what that meant.

  "Why didn't Daddy tell the truth?" I asked Mama after she put away my new clothes.

  She looked at me as if she only then realized I knew he had agreed to keep my problems secret from Grandmother Emma and it wasn't just her idea. Had she forgotten I was right there when they discussed it or did she simply think I didn't understand?

  "It's not easy to tell Grandmother Emma the truth," my mother said. "At least, it hasn't been for your father. He thinks it's easier to tell her what she wants to hear. People do that to each other all the time, Jordan. Don't be surprised. You might as well get used to it. Welcome to the adult world."

  "How do you know when anyone's telling the truth then?" I asked, and she laughed. I was happy I made her do that.

  She walked over to hug me. Then she squatted a little to look into my face.

  "You're growing up so quickly. I feel like I've aged myself overnight. I know it's going to be extra difficult for you. Jordan, but try, try hard to hold on to being young for as long as you can. Live in a world of make-believe where lies and deceptions don't matter. Don't send Santa Claus to a retirement home just yet."

  I was the one laughing now. "I don't believe in Santa anymore, Mama."

  "I know, but sometimes, it's not bad to hope he'll come back."

  I squinted at her. Come back? Come back from where? He didn't exist.

  "Whenever you do that, you look just like your brother. When we first told him about Santa Claus, he squinted and asked how it was possible for one man to deliver toys to all the world's children in one night. I don't think he was three. You think he's happier being so smart?" she asked me.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Maybe," she said, standing. "Put on the new dress your grandmother gave you for tonight and the sandals. It is a very pretty dress and fashionably up to date, which surprised me. Showing her you want to wear it on your special night rather than anything I bought you today will help Daddy smoke his peace pipe with her."

  "Daddy doesn't smoke, does he?"

  "No. Well, he smokes cigars occasionally when he wants to look like a big shot. People say, 'Let's smoke a peace pipe,' when they want to make up or calm things down."