Early Spring 01 Broken Flower

by V. C. Andrews

  The tub in the bathroom was larger and, Grandmother Emma explained, had a whirlpool as well. She showed me where all my things had been placed in the cabinets, including my medicine. As she explained it all to me, a thought came.

  "What if Mama doesn't want me to move into this bedroom?" I asked.

  She tilted her head a bit and looked at me. "While your parents are recuperating. I am in charge of both of you," she said. "I am responsible for your well-being. When your mother comes back, if she wants you to return to that bedroom, we'll discuss it then.

  "In the meantime, you will be just across the hallway from me and I will feel much better about it. Is that all right with you?' she asked. She didn't ask it in a tone of voice that said she really cared about my opinion. It was more like. It had better be.

  I nodded.

  "Well, I'm happy we have that issue resolved," she said. "Get used to the room, pick out something to wear to dinner, and get yourself ready. We'll go down to dinner in exactly an hour," she added, glancing at her watch.

  "What about Ian?"

  "Don't worry about Ian. I'll make sure he's aware of everything.' she said.

  "Are we going back to the hospital to see Daddy?"

  "Yes, of course, but not for a few days. It's better to let him rest and recover enough so he can enjoy your visit."

  "He'll be very, very sad when he learns he can't walk.'

  "Yes, I'm sure," she said.

  "When will I see Mama?"

  "As soon as I have completed all the arrangements and we have her settled. Anything else you want to know?" she asked petulantly.

  I looked around the room. Even though my things were in it now, it still looked cold and unfriendly to me.

  "I don't like it here," I said. Without any of Daddy's things, it didn't hold the magic I had hoped it would. The guest room downstairs was nicer. I thought.

  "Yes, well, as you will discover about most things in your life. Jordan, it's a matter of growing accustomed to it. And youwill." she said. Again, it sounded more like. You had better.

  She turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. I stood there feeling alone and afraid, as if I was standing on an icy mountain and would start sliding down any moment. I couldn't help it. I just stood there crying. In a matter of mere hours, our lives had been turned entirely upside down and there wasn't anything either Ian or I could do about it. With both our parents out of the house, Grandmother Emma's hold over us was truly ironclad.

  Because of what she had seen Ian doing with me, her view of him, the way she spoke to him, was even firmer and colder than it had been. He didn't speak back to her or disagree in any way with anything she told him to do. He had always been able to shut himself off from everyone else anyway. Now, even the tiny windows he had permitted to be open to his world were closed. For a long moment at dinner that first night. I looked at him in the same way he had gotten me to see the caterpillar. He looked like he had curled up, only this wasn't with hope. It was with total withdrawal. I had the sense he would never straighten out again. He would be gone forever.

  I think this pleased Grandmother Emma. She didn't mind Ian's silence and withdrawal. She was happy to act as if he wasn't really there and turn all her attention to me. None of the things she directed at me was directed at Ian. It was as though my parents' accident had paved the way for her to shape me in her image, finally and forever. Mama had been a buffer between us, a shield, and that was gone. I was now clay in her hands.

  She began that night by instructing me about how to sit at the dinner table.

  "I'm not asking you to sit stiffly. Jordan, but you should work on that slouch. I've told you before that when you're not eating, you should put your hands in your lap. That way you won't fuss with your implements or do anything to distract others. Children your age are always fidgeting.

  "The daughters and granddaughters of some of my friends have been incorrectly told never to put their elbows on the table. It's far more graceful for a woman to have her elbows on the table when she is conversing and leaning toward someone.

  "But don't tip your chair or rock it. Your mother often reaches across you or Ian to get something. That's not proper. You can reach for something as long as you don't go across someone else's plate,"

  She lectured throughout the dinner. I listened but I didn't say anything. I was happy when we were finished eating because I was so nervous I didn't enjoy anything or even remember tasting anything.

  "Are you calling the hospital?" Ian asked her, finally lifting his gaze from his food or just down at the table.

  "I have already,'" she said. "Nothing's changed except arrangements to move your mother have been completed. She'll be going in the morning.

  "You've both had a very hard and emotional day," she added quickly, turning mainly to me. "I want you to go right up to your rooms, read or watch television until nine P.M., and then go to sleep.

  ''Jordan. I will come to your room early to be sure you've taken your medication. Tomorrow. I will call Dr. Dell'Acqua and arrange for another visit. I'd like to have a better understanding of your condition and treatment. I'm not sure all the right questions have been addressed."

  "What would you have done if we were still up at the cabin?" Ian asked her.

  For a moment she looked like she wouldn't answer. She didn't even turn to him. Then she did so, very slowly.

  "You're not at the cabin any longer, Ian. You're here. She's here and all of the responsibility for both of you, especially Jordan, has fallen on my shoulders. Parents today don't have the same sense of obligation and concern that people of my generation had and have." she continued.

  "Are we excused?" Ian asked her, making her feel as though everything she had just said had gone in one ear and out the other.

  "Not just vet," she said.

  She folded her hands and sat there a moment as if she had to gather her thoughts and say everything perfectly.

  "Tomorrow, someone is coming to this house. Her name is Miss Harper. She will serve as your nanny until your parents are capable of taking charge of you again."

  "Nanny? We're too old for a nanny," Ian said, curling his lips in at the corners.

  "Perhaps that is not the right term in this particular case. In my time such a person was also known as a minder. Whatever, her name is Miss Harper and you two are to afford her the same respect and obedience you would to me or your own parents.

  "You are not to leave the property without her. You are not to go anywhere together on the property without her. There are times I will not be here for meals. She will take them all with you, tell you when to appear. Jordan, she will assist you in what to wear. She will assist you when you bathe and dress. If you have any problems of any kind, you are to bring them to her attention. She has vast experience with young people of all ages and it is apparent to me that you two need someone of her caliber and background to address your problems."

  She paused and turned her eyes slowly toward Ian as though she were resetting a cannon. "Especially your problems, Ian."

  "How did you find her so quickly?" he asked, without skipping a beat.

  "When you've reached my age and have had my experience. Ian, you will. I hope, be someone of some resource, too, and you will understand how things can be done efficiently and correctly."

  Despite what she had suggested about him. Ian looked like he appreciated her answer because she had included him.

  "How old is she?" I asked.

  Grandmother Emma's whole face tightened as she raised her eyes toward the ceiling. "I'm not accustomed to being cross- examined by children, Jordan. You will be told what you need to be told about Miss Harper and you shouldn't ask people personal questions. It's not polite."

  "Knowing her age isn't all that personal," Ian muttered.

  "You're both excused," Grandmother Emma said sharply. She could have just as easily brought down a gavel to end the discussion.

  Ian and I rose from the table, pushed our chairs in proper
ly, and started out of the dining room. She followed us into the hallway and watched us walk up the stairs. When we reached the top. Ian turned to go left. I stood there, feeling frightened and alone. I had the urge to just run after him and go into my old bedroom and refuse to come out.

  "Jordan," I heard Grandmother Emma say. "Go on to your new room and prepare for bed. I'll stop by in a while," she added.

  She sounded friendly and caring. When I looked at her, she nodded. I started toward her side of the mansion and then paused to look down the hallway at Ian. He was standing there watching me. Then, acting sillier than I had ever seen him act, he put his thumbs in his ears, turned toward the stairway, and waved his fingers while he stuck out his tongue. Of course, she couldn't see him from below.

  I smiled and he waved and went into his room. I waited a moment and then walked slowly into my new bedroom. Having my things there gave me some comfort, but it still felt cold and lonely. I sniffled back my tears and went to the bathroom to prepare for bed. Afterward. I put on my pajamas and crawled into what had been Daddy's bed. Of course, I had never slept in it. I had never really had a chance to look at it. The larger room made me feel so much smaller, too.

  I glanced at the clock and saw I had at least an hour before I had to turn off the television so I started to watch something. I flipped the channels until I found a channel that was showing a documentary about, of all things, butterflies. Even though it was fascinating, it reminded me of Flora and what she had done to me. My mind started to spin around all the questions that had sprouted from the experience. I wanted to think more about them, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I actually fell asleep with the television on and vaguely woke up when I saw Grandmother Emma clicking off the set, fixing my blanket, and then turning off the night lamp.

  She stood in the doorway a moment.

  Silhouetted by the hallway light, with her hand on her hips and her elbows out, she looked like a giant moth.

  Seconds later, she closed the door and left me in darkness with only the vague light of a quarter moon threading its way through gauzelike evening clouds.

  I thought about Mama and wondered if she felt the box of candy in her hand, woke up, and smiled to herself knowing that I had been there.

  And that I would be back. That gave me a sense of relief and I closed my eyes, but suddenly. I heard a great deal of noise in the hallway. I listened hard. Grandmother Emma was telling Nancy and Felix, her driver, to move quieter. Why?

  I slipped out of bed and peered out my slightly opened door. I saw Nancy carrying what looked like an armful of clothing. Whose clothing was it? Where was she taking it? Grandmother Emma was standing and watching her o down the stairway with Felix, carrying clothing, too, right behind her. I watched until Grandmother Emma started to turn and then I closed the door quickly and hurried back into the bed.

  It all seemed like a dream. Maybe I was already asleep. I thought. Maybe I didn't even get up and look out that door. I closed my eyes. I was so tired, so tired. That thought opened the doorway to sleep and sent my tears for Mama back to the well of sadness from which they had been drawn.

  The sunlight hadn't even begun to open the curtain of darkness when Grandmother Emma was back in my room, switching on the lights and telling me it was time to take my medication. She watched as I did it and then put it back in the medicine cabinet. She went directly to my closet, studied my clothing for a moment, and chose a dress for me to wear.

  "I'd like you to look very nice this morning," she said. "Miss Harper will be arriving shortly and will take breakfast with us, in fact."

  "When am I going to see Mama?" I asked.

  "I told you, Jordan. After she is settled in at the new hospital, we'll see when it's appropriate to visit her. It's not polite to ask adults the same question repeatedly. The answer won't change because you do that either.

  "Let me give you a bit of wisdom," she said, approaching the bed. "It's difficult enough as it is to hold the attention of other people meaningfully. Don't waste it on nonsense or whining or repetitious questions. When I was your age. I wasn't permitted to speak at dinner unless I had been spoken to first, for example. Parents today permit their children to quack after them with 'why this?' and 'why that?' like ducks.

  "Besides," she said, "you will soon learn that it's more to your advantage to listen. It will help you make wiser decisions. Do you understand?"

  I shook my head. I didn't feel that I did understand. Why wasn't she permitted to talk at dinner?

  'You will,' she insisted. "Eventually. Now, get yourself up, washed, and dressed. Fix your hair so you look your best. First impressions are more often final than not and I'd like Miss Harper to have a good impression of you." She flashed a smile.

  "I have cramps," I blurted. They had started just minutes before she had arrived and were now a bit more intense.

  "Pardon me?"

  "My stomach. I have cramps and I might need that"--I had forgotten the name--"thing that looks like a white cigar."

  It was the first time I had ever seen my gmndmother blush. Her left hand seemed to flutter up to the base of her throat.

  "Did your mother show you how to use it?" I nodded.

  "This is extraordinary," she said. "Go into the bathroom and do what must be done. And don't mention this or talk about it in your brother's presence."

  'He knows about it," I said before thinking.

  "Knows? You mean you told him?" I hesitated. "Well?"

  "Yes."

  "Did your mother know this?"

  "I don't know."

  "Did he...did he watch you insert it or in any way participate?" I shook my head. How could he participate?

  She looked relieved.

  "We will be going to see Dr. Dell'Acqua today," she said firmly. 'From today on, however, Miss Harper will be the only one besides me with whom you will ever discuss any of this. Never, never talk about yourself with Ian again. Jordan. Do you understand me?"

  I nodded. but she didn't look satisfied.

  "This won't do," she said as though there were someone else in the room besides us. "Where is that book he gave you?"

  "I left it at the cabin," I said.

  "Good. Miss Harper will answer your questions from now on."

  "Is she a doctor, too?" I asked.

  "Never mind what she is or isn't," she snapped. "Direct all questions to her and never to your brother or anyone else, for that matter."

  "I can tell Mama," I said.

  "Yes. You can tell her, but will she ever hear you? That's the bigger question," she muttered. and started out of the bedroom. "Don't mess the bed," she added when she turned back. "Go do what you have to do. Extraordinary," she repeated. and left as though she was afraid to stay much longer.

  I hurried to the bathroom and found what I needed in the lower cabinet. Mama had given me a whole box before we had gone to the cabin and Nancy had placed it there. After that, I washed and dressed and brushed my hair. I took longer than I thought and Grandmother Emma sent Nancy up to tell me to come down immediately.

  "Is Ian downstairs?" I asked her.

  She didn't answer. I checked myself in the mirror and hurried after her.

  Ian was already there, sitting quietly and waiting Across the table from him was a tall, pretty woman with reddish blond hair neatly styled about her ears. Her lips were so orange, she didn't need lipstick. There were ribbons of faint freckles over the crests of her cheeks, just touching the bridge of her small nose. I liked the way she brought her lips back gently when she smiled, but her turquoise eyes were almost independent from the rest of her face because they were cold and penetrating like a doctor's eyes, full of questions as she turned her gaze fully on me.

  Even though it was summer, she wore a highbuttoned gray blouse closed at the base of her neck and a darker gray ankle- length skirt. She wore no earrings, no necklace, and no rings, just a watch with a big square face, more like a man's watch. I thought. When she stood up. I saw she was quite tall, but part o
f the reason for that was that she wore four-inch square-heeled black shoes. She would surely tower beside Grandmother Emma, I thought.

  One interesting thing I noticed about Grandmother Emma was when people were that much taller than she was, she didn't tilt her head back when she spoke to them or they spoke to her. She looked forward and usually they had to tilt their heads or even slouch.

  "Jordan, this is Miss Harper," Grandmother Emma said. "She is here to help me with you and Ian," she added, as if we were the invalids and not Daddy and Mama.

  "Hello," I said, so softly I wasn't sure I had actually uttered it and not just thought it.

  Her smile widened, but her eyes remained as they had been. "Hello, Jordan. I'm very pleased to meet you. I have heard so much about you that I feel we've known each other for some time," she said.

  I looked at Grandmother Emma. What would she have told her already? Ian still had his head lowered, his eyes down. From the way his lips were tucked in. I knew something was bothering him a lot. Had Grandmother Emma told Miss Harper something nasty about him before I had arrived or even before she had met him?

  "Take your seat, please, Jordan," Grandmother Emma told me.

  She watched me closely until I set my napkin correctly on my lap and pulled my chair closer to the table. Miss Harper watched as well and smiled and nodded at her.

  Nancy began to serve our breakfast, which I knew was to be special because she brought out the assorted Danish Grandmother Emma usually reserved for Sundays. Miss Harper asked Grandmother Emma about the dining room chandelier and while she explained it and its history. I looked at Ian. He raised his eyes and leaned toward me to whisper.

  "She put her in Mother and Father's room," he said. "She had all the things removed last night."

  And I realized what I had seen in the hallway was no dream.

  19 A Mouth Full of Soap