Heartsong

by V. C. Andrews

  "Did you hear what I said, Kenneth? Grandma Olivia wants me to live with her. She says it would be better for Uncle Jacob's recovery if I was living there right now, too, and it would only fan the flames of scandal if I came to live with you."

  "She's right about that," Kenneth said. "Olivia's always been the sensible one, the one with solutions in that family."

  "You think my moving in with her and Grandpa Samuel is the right solution?" I asked and held my breath.

  "Might be," he said and turned again to his sculpture.

  I stood there, fighting down a throat lump and swallowing back my tears. I had hoped he would tell me not to go to live at Grandma Olivia's. I had hoped he would insist I move in with him, that there was no other real solution, no other place I belonged but at his side. Why should he care about scandals?

  "One thing's for sure," he said as he approached the marble, "you'll get the best of everything living there."

  "Except love," I muttered sharply. At first I thought he hadn't heard. He just stared at his work. Then he turned and looked at me with his eyes finally focusing on me.

  "Don't put too much stock in that, Melody. Love is fragile at best and often a burden or something that blinds us. It's fodder for poets and song writers and they build it into something beyond human capacity. Falling in love means enrolling yourself in the school of disappointment. Being human means failing each other often, and no two people fail each other more than two people who pledge to do things for each other that they'll never do because they're just incapable of it."

  He gestured toward his sculpture.

  "That's why art is enduring. The look of love or hope, or the look of compassion, bravery, whatever, is captured forever. We spend our lives trying to get someone to be as enduring as a painting or a sculpture and we can't because feelings crumble as quickly as the flesh."

  "That's not true, Kenneth," I insisted.

  He turned back to me and sighed. Then he shook his head and smiled.

  "You know what I miss the most about my youth? My gullibility. It's nice believing in everything and everyone. It makes you feel secure, but be strong and depend more on yourself and you'll be ready for disappointments. That's the best advice I can offer you.

  "Go live with Olivia. She's the real guru, not Holly with her stars and moon. Olivia can read the future better than anyone. She's the true captain of her soul and the master of her fate. She's endured and she's stronger than anyone. Disappointment withers in front of her. She can stare down disaster. My father cries in his beer, mourns his lost youth and his mistakes, while Olivia will rage on until the day she dies. And even death gets little satisfaction when it takes someone like her. For death, Olivia is a reminder that it, too, is a slave to something bigger. It's just an errand boy for Nature.

  "So live with her and learn from her," Kenneth concluded. Then he took up his tools and returned to his marble creation, not seeing the tears brim in my eyes.

  I sucked in my breath and left the studio. He didn't need me there, I thought. The vision is all in his head now anyway, just as he always claimed.

  Holly was sitting in front of the house on a stone bench, Ulysses at her feet as she worked on a chart and thumbed through her books. When I appeared, she looked up with surprise.

  "Why aren't you working?"

  "There's nothing for me to do in there. You were right about him," I said.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  "Oh? Ignored you, too, huh?"

  "Something like that."

  "Were you crying?" she asked after she gazed at me closer.

  "No." I turned away quickly and took a deep breath.

  "Oh honey, don't let him get to you. Artists are so moody and--"

  "It's okay," I said and smiled at her. "Could you take me home? I'd do more good helping Aunt Sara today."

  "Sure. Oh," she said, "about your chart, the planets . . ."

  "Yes?"

  "It's a favorable time, a time for change," she said. She didn't have to tell me. I already knew.

  Grandma Olivia's Rolls Royce was just leaving the house as Holly and I made the turn. The sight of the luxury limousine made my heart do flip-flops for I was afraid of how Aunt Sara would react to what Grandma Olivia was proposing. I was sure Uncle Jacob was ecstatic.

  "I've made up my mind," Holly said as we pulled into the driveway. "I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow."

  "Oh, no! I'll miss you," I said. She smiled and leaned forward to squeeze my hand and give me a kiss on the cheek.

  "And I'll miss you too, sweetheart. You're a very nice girl, Melody, full of good energy, compassion, and love. Someday, you'll make a lucky man a wonderful companion."

  I hurried into the house, worrying more about Aunt Sara than myself at the moment. May was in the kitchen washing out the pot in which Aunt Sara had made some hot oatmeal for Uncle Jacob. She was surprised to see me and obviously did not yet know what Grandma Olivia had wanted. She told me Aunt Sara was upstairs with Uncle Jacob. I waited for her to come down, but when nearly a half hour passed and she still hadn't, I went upstairs. The door to Uncle Jacob and Aunt Sara's room was closed. I hesitated and then knocked softly. They must have thought it was May and wondered why she was knocking.

  Aunt Sara opened the door and looked out at me with bloodshot eyes. Uncle Jacob was dressed in a cotton flannel shirt and pants. Aunt Sara was helping him dress.

  "Melody. You're home already?"

  "Yes, I thought--" I looked past her at Uncle Jacob, who struggled to pull on one of his socks. He did look stronger, with more color in his face. I was sure the news Grandma Olivia had brought had cheered him. "I thought you might need me here more."

  "She doesn't need you," Uncle Jacob snapped. "Everything's fine here."

  "He insists on getting up and going

  downstairs," she said mournfully.

  "Did you ask the doctor, Uncle Jacob?"

  "I don't need the doctor to tell me what I can do and what I can't," he said and pulled on the other sock. Aunt Sara hurried to kneel at his feet and help him put on his shoes. He turned to me as she did so.

  "Good you came home early though. You can start packing," he said. "Your grandmother can send the car over for you earlier than she thought," he added, and Aunt Sara uttered a cry and then pressed her hand against her mouth as he glared down at her. "Now Sara, you heard it all and you know that it's best for everyone all around. We're just lucky to have my mother and father alive and strong enough to handle the problem."

  "Is that how everyone sees me now?" I asked. "The problem?"

  "She's never been a problem for me," Aunt Sara said. "And the children--"

  "Everyone will be better off," Uncle Jacob insisted. "Especially the children."

  "I'm not full of contamination, Uncle Jacob." "You're Haille's daughter," he said as if that explained everything. "We can't help what's been passed through the blood. It takes someone as strong as my mother to keep things right," he said.

  "Yes, she's got a wonderful track record," I snapped.

  "Now don't you be insolent and disrespectful. You ought to be grateful someone wants to take you into her home. You're the result of lust and sin and--"

  "Jacob!" Aunt Sara exclaimed. She stood up and he turned his head away.

  "I've got to get some exercise," he muttered, "so I can build myself up and get back to work."

  He started to stand, wobbled, and sat down hard on the bed.

  "Jacob!"

  "I'm fine. Just a little bed weary," he said. When he started to stand again, Aunt Sara put her arm around his waist and he reluctantly leaned on her shoulder. "There," he said, standing. "That's a start."

  Aunt Sara looked at me with eyes so full of sadness, I had to turn away.

  "I'll go pack," I said.

  "Good," Uncle Jacob muttered.

  My throat tightened and my tongue felt glued to the bottom of my mouth, so all my words were swallowed back. There was nothing more to say to him anyway, I th
ought. After his confession in the hospital, I was a constant embarrassment to him. He couldn't look at me and not feel guilty. It brought him much needed relief to see me go. Grandma Olivia didn't know how right she was when she suggested my moving out would improve Uncle Jacob's chances for recuperation.

  May was waiting for me in the hallway, her eyes full of questions and confusion. She wanted to know if we could go for a walk to town. I smiled at her and took her hand. I brought her into my room and sat her on the chair by the desk.

  I began by reminding her why I had come, why I had been left there, and why I had been forced to stay.

  She was sad about my mother, but she quickly told me she was happy I was there. I thanked her and then told her about Grandma Olivia's offer and why it would be good for everyone. I didn't tell her about my grandfather or his sinful history. I tried to make it seem as if I would be gone only for a short while. I would always be nearby, I told her, and she would come to visit me as much as she wanted, that Cary had promised to bring her often, but she was still confused.

  How could it be good for everyone? Didn't I help her mother?

  How could I explain it all to her? I wondered and then I did the one thing I had tried never to do: I told a lie to make things easier. I told her Grandma Olivia needed me.

  The idea of Grandma Olivia needing anyone surprised but interested her. May was so forgiving and compassionate she couldn't deny anyone anything, even someone like Grandma Olivia, who seemed to have everything she could want.

  In the end she accepted it. It brought tears to her eyes, but she didn't cry. She offered to help me pack. I explained I had very little to bring with me. Grandma Olivia was going to buy me many new things. When I heard Uncle Jacob and Aunt Sara in the hallway, I told her she had better see what she could do to help her mother and she left.

  Uncle Jacob and Aunt Sara made a lot of commotion going down the stairs. Uncle Jacob got dizzy once, but when I came out to help, he made a miraculous recovery and completed the journey. Aunt Sara brought him outside to sit on the porch.

  As I sifted through the things I would take with me, I recalled when I had first come to stay in this room. I looked at Laura's picture and thought about her again. Cary insisted Laura and I were alike in so many ways. Holly would call it a kindred spirit. There were nights when I had lain here and felt another presence, felt encouragement and comfort, as if someone warm and loving had touched my cheek or stroked my hair or taken my hand during the night. It turned my nightmares into sweet dreams.

  I had no idea what sort of a room Grandma Olivia would provide for me. Chances were it would be bigger, of course. I hadn't done very much to change this room. So much of what was in it still had significance and great importance for Aunt Sara. Laura's love letters were where they had always been. Her clothes remained in the closet and bureau. Her dolls and music box were undisturbed.

  Aunt Sara was sure to return the room to its shrine status after I moved away, I thought. Now, she would mourn her daughter's death a second time. I had tried to be a daughter to her, but the truth was no one could replace Laura, and the hole in her heart Aunt Sara had hoped I would fill would always be there. Maybe it was more painful, even deceitful, for me to wear Laura's clothes and sleep in Laura's bed. Maybe as Kenneth had said, Grandma Olivia was the real guru for this family. She knew best.

  I was tired of fighting anyway, tired of pursuing the elusive truth, tired of uncovering lies, tired of expecting love to simply blossom like a flower and beam under the sunlight of my smiles. People like Grandma Olivia always get what they want in the end, I thought, and those of us who think we can fight them find we are just living in a fantasy world.

  I wished there was a way I could say goodbye to Laura's memory, a way that made sense or made me feel better about what I had done and what I would now do. But everything I looked at had seemed unmoved and unaffected by my arrival and stay here and it was unmoved now at my leaving. I had changed nothing.

  I picked up my two small suitcases and the box that contained Cary's sailboat and started out of the room and down the stairs just as May was rushing back into the house. At first I thought something had happened to Uncle Jacob, but she was waving a big envelope at me. She signed it had come special delivery.

  I put my suitcases down at the top of the stairs when she reached me, and with great curiosity I took the envelope from her. It was from Alice Morgan.

  What is it? May signed. I shook my head and sat on the top step as I ripped the envelope open. How silly, I thought. She's sent me the latest En Vogue catalogue, a mail-order fashion company whose clothing was very expensive. I knew her mother subscribed to it and had ordered from it, but why send it to me? The top right corner of one page was folded in.

  First, I read the letter she had sent with the catalogue.

  Dear Melody,

  I was sitting in the kitchen and eating a sandwich for lunch, when I decided to thumb through Mom's latest En Vogue. Usually, the fashions bore me and nothing ever looks as good as it does in the catalogue. At least, that's what I always tell my mother.

  But, when I got to page 42, I noticed something I think might interest you, too. The model on the page looks so much like your mother, I couldn't resist mailing this to you as quickly as possible. Her hair is a different color, of course, but, well, look for yourself Amazing, isn't it?

  I still want to come visit, and I am waiting for you to tell me when is a good time. Let's not stop being friends just because we live far apart from each other.

  What's new in your life? Boyfriends? Girlfriends? Are you doing anything fun?

  Please write back as soon as you can or call. Call collect if you want.

  I miss you.

  Love, Alice

  I folded the letter and then opened the catalogue slowly. May watched with interest as I stared at the model on the page. It triggered a chill that started up my spine and then circled my body and froze my heart. My breath caught. I didn't realize how long I was holding it until I felt my chest constrict and May shook my hand, demanding to know what was wrong.

  This woman, I explained, stuttering through my thoughts, looks so much like my mother it's scary.

  May's eyes widened with interest and she peered over my shoulder.

  "I've got to show this to Kenneth," I muttered. I stood up and gazed at my suitcases. "Before I go to Grandma Olivia's."

  I put the suitcases back in the room and hurried down the stairs. I went to the kitchen and called the taxi company, asking for a car immediately. Then I went outside, hardly able to take my eyes from the face of the model in the latest En Vogue catalogue. She even had that little turn in her upper lip.

  Uncle Jacob and Aunt Sara were sitting on the front porch. Both looked up with surprise and interest as I burst out of the house, the catalogue in my hand.

  "What did you get, dear?" Aunt Sara asked. Uncle Jacob didn't want to show any interest, but couldn't help himself.

  "My friend--Alice Morgan. Remember? From Sewell?"

  "Oh yes."

  "She sent me this catalogue because there is a model in it who looks so much like my mother," I explained. Uncle Jacob's eyes widened with more interest.

  "Oh. Really?" Aunt Sara said, leaning toward me as I opened the catalogue to the page Alice had marked. "Yes, there is some resemblance. Isn't there, Jacob?" she asked showing him the catalogue. He stared and then grunted.

  "Some. What of it?" he muttered.

  "There's more than some," I said taking the catalogue back.

  "What about it?" he asked.

  "I want to know more about her," I said.

  "What for? When someone dies, we should let her rest in peace," he said, directing his gaze more at Aunt Sara than at me. The reference to Laura was clear. She pressed her lips together and looked away.

  I saw my cab coming down our street. "That's for me," I said as it drew closer.

  "For you? What for? My mother's sending her car. No need to waste money," Uncle Jacob said
, "just because you're going to be living with people that have some."

  "I'm going to show this to Kenneth," I said. "I'm going back to his house."

  "Now?" Uncle Jacob demanded.

  "No one knows my mother's face better than Kenneth," I explained. "I'll feel better showing it to him."

  "You're just wasting good time, your own and everyone else's," he said. "There's enough to do and-- "

  "I'm all packed. There wasn't that much to do. My bags are upstairs, ready to be brought down," I added to please him.

  "Good," he said.

  The cab pulled up front and I started for it. "Melody," Aunt Sara called. I turned back. She stared like someone who had forgotten why she had called me.

  "Yes?"

  "Don't you want any lunch, dear?"

  "No, but thank you, Aunt Sara. I'll be back as soon as I can," I said.

  "Just have Kenneth or the cab take you to Grandma Olivia's house," Uncle Jacob said. "I'll call for Raymond and he'll take your bags there while you're wasting everyone's time."

  "Thank you, Uncle Jacob," I said. "I hope you get better soon and get back to the sea you love so much."

  He looked surprised. I smiled as his thoughts stumbled over my words of kindness. Then I hurried into the cab, the magazine clutched tightly in my hand.

  17

  Out of the Ashes

  .

  Holly was just coming off the beach when the

  cab, the driver complaining about the beach road, pulled up in front of Kenneth's house. I paid him and he drove off swearing that if he had known where I wanted him to take me, he would never have accepted the assignment. Holly waved and hurried along, breaking into a fast walk, Ulysses barking and rushing past her to greet me.

  "What's up? Why are you back?" "I have to show Kenneth something that came special delivery to me," I replied.

  "What is it?"

  She followed as I walked toward the studio, explaining what it was. She looked at the pictures, even though she had never known Mommy nor seen any photographs of her.

  "They say everyone has a twin someplace," Holly offered, handing the catalogue back.

  Kenneth was seated on his small sofa staring at the sculpture when we entered the studio. He looked up so casually I realized he hadn't even known I had left earlier.