Music in the Night

by V. C. Andrews

  "I'm a little tired today. How is your family?" she asked.

  "Everyone's fine, Aunt Belinda."

  "You're Jacob's daughter?"

  "Yes," I said, smiling. Just as before, she had trouble remembering the details.

  "Jacob has how many children?"

  "Three, Aunt Belinda. I have a twin brother, Cary, and a younger sister, May, remember? Don't you remember me coming to see you before?"

  "Oh, yes," she said. She stared a moment and then leaned forward. "Have you seen Haille, then?" she asked in a whisper, her eyes on the doorway.

  "No, Aunt Belinda. I have never met Haille."

  "Oh. Well . . isn't it a nice day?" she said, gazing out the window.

  "I came to see you, Aunt Belinda, because last time you were telling me about the first time you fell in love, really in love. Remember?"

  "Oh? Oh, yes," she said with a smile. "I remember." Her face grew darker. "It was a forbidden love, a love to be kept in the shadows, full of whispers and stolen kisses. When we saw each other in public, we couldn't show our feelings. Then I lost him," she added sadly. "I lost him forever and ever."

  "But how did you know it was love, Aunt Belinda?"

  "Oh, it was love all right. Why? Did Olivia say something again? She's always telling on me, running to Daddy and whining that Belinda did this and Belinda did that. Well, she's not so lily-pure."

  She pouted.

  "No, Grandma Olivia didn't say anything, Aunt Belinda. I just wanted to hear about love. Somehow, for some reason, I think you know more about it than anyone else in my family," I added, more to myself than to her, but she perked up.

  "I do." She leaned forward and took my hand. "I've been in love many times."

  "Many times? But I thought there was only one great love of your life. That's what you told me the last time," I said, not hiding my disappointment.

  "There was, but I lost him and then forever after I was always looking for him," she explained.

  "Always looking for him? I don't understand, Aunt Belinda. Where did you look?"

  She laughed.

  "Wouldn't you like to know?" Her eyes grew small, suspicious. "Did Olivia send you here to find out?"

  "Oh no, Aunt Belinda. She has no idea I'm here." She stared, skeptical, and then nodded softly.

  "Every time I fall in love with someone, Olivia falls in love with him, too. She always says she was first, that he liked her first and I stole him away by being promiscuous. Well, no one likes her because she's a cold fish. She won't even hold hands in public! You can run back and tell her I said that, if you want."

  "I won't tell her anything you say to me, Aunt Belinda," I assured her.

  "If you love someone," she continued, "you're not afraid to touch him or have him touch you. Olivia says that's ridiculous. She says it's not necessary to touch all the time and she hates kissing. Oh, she'll deny that; she'll say she kisses in private, but she doesn't. I know. Young men have told me. She turns away all the time." She laughed and then leaned forward again. "You know what I heard Samuel told someone? He told them she won't make love with the lights on and never with the covers off. Like she has something someone is dying to see."

  She paused and looked at me closely again.

  "What did you say your name was, dear?"

  "I'm Laura, Aunt Belinda. Sara and Jacob's daughter Laura. How can you be in love so many times, Aunt Belinda? Isn't love something special?"

  "It always was, every time," she replied. She pulled in the corners of her mouth and nodded. "You just make sure they respect you and treat you like a lady. Don't let him know you love him right away. Let him twist and torment himself and then," she said with a wide smile, "when you finally say yes, he will think you have given him the world.

  "I was in love once," she added wistfully. "A long time ago, a sweet boy, handsome. He thought the sun rose and set on my moods. 'When you're sad,' he said, 'you bring the rain clouds. But when you smile, the sun is bright and strong.'

  "Wasn't that sweet? It's poetry. He wrote poetry. Olivia found the poems and tore them up. She said if I complained, she would show them to Daddy and he would see what I was up to.

  "I wasn't up to anything. I just . . . wanted someone to love me and I wanted to love him."

  She paused, took a deep breath, and then looked at me again.

  "You remind me of someone," she said and blinked rapidly for a moment. Her expression changed. It was as if she had just set eyes on me. "Do you know my sister Olivia Logan? Her maiden name was Gordon, same as mine," she said with a light, thin laugh.

  "I'm your niece, Aunt Belinda. I'm Jacob's daughter, Grandma Olivia's Jacob."

  "Yes," she said. She smiled. "How pretty you are. Are you a schoolgirl?"

  "Yes, I'm in high school."

  "And you have a boyfriend, or do you have many boyfriends?"

  "Just one," I said.

  She looked out the window.

  "I'm waiting for him. I sit here by the window every day and I wait. He promised he would return, you know. And he would bring me flowers and candy. They don't want me to have any candy," she whispered, gazing at the door. "But he hides it in the flowers."

  She brought her hand to her mouth and giggled like a little girl.

  Then, she suddenly started to hum.

  "Aunt Belinda?"

  She continued to hum and stare out the window.

  "I'm going, Aunt Belinda," I said, rising. She paused and looked at me.

  "You tell Olivia I'm not sorry. She's the one who should be sorry. If it weren't for her, he'd still be my boyfriend. We would be out there," she said, gazing at the garden, "walking hand in hand and he would be telling me sweet things."

  She returned to her humming and staring.

  I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, but she didn't seem to feel it. I paused in the doorway and gazed back at her. She looked so small and alone, left only with her memories and haunted by her regrets and losses.

  That would never be me, I pledged. No one will keep me from my love.

  "Well?" Cary said after I got into the truck and we started away. "Did you get what you wanted from her?"

  "Yes," I said. "What was that?"

  "An answer to a question."

  "What question?" he asked, glancing at me. "Laura?"

  "Something only a woman would understand," I said.

  "Oh brother. That stuff again."

  "Yes, Cary, that stuff again," I said and pressed my forehead against the window as we bounced over the road and onto the main highway. Cary accelerated, blowing air out of his tight lips and shaking his head.

  "It's all because of him," he muttered.

  "What?"

  "Nothing," he growled and tightened his shoulders as he turned himself away and drove faster.

  When we got home, I thanked him and hurried toward the house, Cary right behind me.

  "Robert called," Mommy said as we entered. Cary looked at me and then ran up the stairs, pounding the steps so hard, the entire staircase shook.

  "Thank you, Mommy. I'll be right in to help with dinner," I said and went to the phone.

  "Where were you today?" I asked as soon as Robert said hello.

  "I had such a headache this morning, Mom thought I was coming down with the flu or something. She said I had a little fever and gave me some aspirin and told me to take the day off. Normally, I'd have to be chained to the bed, but things haven't been too normal. Did you miss me?"

  "Of course. I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't."

  "How are you doing? You looked so distracted after school yesterday. I hardly had a chance to say a word and I don't think you heard anything I said anyway."

  "It's all right, Robert. I've just had so much on my mind with finals and stuff."

  "Stuff means me, right?"

  "Yes."

  "I still love you, Laura. You can refuse to answer my letters, grunt after everything I say in school, but I won't stop loving you."

  "I know. I don
't want you to," I said,

  "Really?"

  Of course. How do you feel now?"

  "I'm getting better fast," he said. "I'll be in school tomorrow. Laura, can't we see each other soon?"

  "Yes."

  "This weekend?" he asked hopefully.

  "Yes, I would like that."

  "Great," he said with relief. "I'll--we'll plan tomorrow, okay?"

  "Okay, Robert. I've got to go help Mommy with dinner."

  "I'll be at your locker tomorrow morning, probably before you," he said with a laugh. "I love you, Laura."

  As soon as I cradled the receiver, Daddy entered. He took one look at me and then tilted his head with curiosity.

  "What's going on, Laura?"

  "Nothing, Daddy. I'm just going to help Mommy with dinner. Did you have a good day?"

  "Fair to middling. Where's Cary?"

  "Upstairs."

  "In the attic again, I suppose. That boy should have been born a bat so he could live in a belfry," Daddy muttered and went to wash up for dinner.

  After dinner Mommy insisted I go up and study and not waste time helping her with the cleanup.

  "Besides," she said, signing to May, "May's big enough to help out by herself now."

  Up in my room, I began to worry that I had lost my ability to concentrate and would do poorer than I expected on my finals. If I continued to do as well as I had, I would be my class's valedictorian next year. I knew how important that was to Mommy and especially to Grandma Olivia.

  I hadn't been at my desk long before I heard the phone ring. I listened, wondering if Robert was calling again. No one called me to the phone, so I went back to my notes. Then I heard Daddy's heavy steps on the stairway. I looked up because I sensed he had stopped at my door. He knocked.

  "Yes?"

  He opened it and stood there, his hands on his hips.

  Daddy always seemed to feel out of place in my room. My things were too dainty, too sparkling for him to touch. Even though he gave money to Mommy and approved of the gifts, the stuffed animals, the dolls, and ceramics, he looked uncomfortable around them. When I was just a little girl, not much older than May, Daddy rarely came into my room. He always said his goodnight from the doorway. Once or twice he came to my bedside when I had a fever and when I had the measles.

  "Laura, where did you go today?" he demanded. "You mean after school?" I replied.

  "You know what I mean, Laura," he said, his voice dripping with disappointment. I never lied to Daddy face-to-face and I wasn't about to now.

  "I went to see Aunt Belinda," I admitted.

  "Who took you there, Cary or Robert Royce?" "Daddy--"

  "Who took you there, Laura?"

  "I took her," Cary confessed from his attic doorway. Daddy spun around and glared up at him.

  "You know I told you distinctly never to go there, Cary." I never knew Daddy had strictly forbidden him. It made me feel worse for asking him to do it.

  "He didn't go in, Daddy. I went in to see her myself. Cary waited in the truck and he didn't want to take me. I made him."

  "You can't make a young man Cary's age do anything he doesn't want to do," Daddy said.

  "She didn't make me," Cary said.

  "You turn those truck keys over to me, Cary. I don't want you using it until I say again, hear?"

  "Okay," Cary said. "Here." He tossed them down and Daddy caught them in his right hand, which only turned up the fury in his eyes another notch. Then he looked at me.

  "I thought we were clear on this matter, Laura. I thought you understood I didn't want you going up there, that it disturbed your grandmother."

  "But why, Daddy? I don't understand how it disturbs anyone for me to go see a lonely old lady."

  "It's family business," he said.

  "So? I'm part of the family. Why can't I visit her?" "Belinda is the black sheep of the family. It's a matter of reputation, family honor," he said.

  "Why is she the black sheep?"

  "I don't have to go into details, Laura. She was not a good girl, a decent girl. She gave Grandma Olivia's father and mother a lot of grief and that behavior continued tong after they were gone, only then it fell on Grandma Olivia's shoulders. She's done right by her and that's that. It's embarrassing to me to have to learn my children disobeyed me. It says in the Bible, honor thy father and thy mother, Laura. It's a sin not to. Remember that," he warned.

  "But--"

  "There are no buts. I absolutely forbid you to go up there again, understand? Do you?" Daddy demanded.

  The tears that came to my eyes blurred my vision. Daddy looked out of focus, but his anger was so great, his face so red, I couldn't look away.

  "Yes, Daddy."

  "I hope this is the end of it and I never get another phone call from your grandmother about it. She's very upset."

  I shook my head.

  "It also says 'For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you .'"

  "Don't quote Scripture to me, Laura. I know Scripture and I know you should obey your father," Daddy said, his face so crimson now I thought his blood pressure must be sky-high.

  "Okay, Daddy."

  "Let it be," he said.

  I nodded and looked down. I heard Cary slam his attic door shut. It sounded like a gunshot in the house. Daddy turned and descended the stairs, each of his steps sounding like a judge's gavel, pronouncing harder and harder sentences on all of us.

  It was difficult to get back to my studying. It took all the concentration I could muster, but I was finally able to run through a few chapters and go over some quizzes before I got too tired to focus any longer. After I crawled into bed and put out the lights, I heard Cary come down the ladder. I got up quickly and went to the doorway. He was just turning to go to his room.

  "Cary . ."

  "What?" he snapped.

  "I'm sorry about what happened with Daddy."

  "I told you it would. I don't know why you had to go up there, why it was so important right now," he said. "Girl stuff," he added and started toward his room.

  "Cary!" I called, but he continued walking away from me. He closed the door hard.

  I never felt more like crawling under my blanket and disappearing.

  I apologized again to Cary in the morning when we walked to school.

  "Forget about it, Laura," he said. "You know Dad. He'll calm down and it will be all right again."

  "I just don't understand it, Cary. If you met Aunt Belinda once, you would see what a sweet little old lady she is. She can't be a threat to anyone and I'm sure she doesn't even remember half the things she was accused of doing."

  "It's not our business," Cary said.

  "But why isn't it, Cary? We're members of this family. Why can't we ask questions and express our opinions, too? We're old enough now," I insisted.

  "It's the way it is," he replied. Then he stopped walking and spun on me. "Somehow all this is because of you and Robert, isn't it? It has to do with your great love affair, right?"

  I blushed before I could utter a reply.

  "You don't have to answer. I know the answer," he said, walking ahead. We had just dropped off May when he quickened his steps and kept in front of me the rest of the way to school. As soon as Cary saw Robert waiting at my locker, he glared at me and then hurried away to join his own friends.

  "Something wrong?" Robert asked

  immediately. He looked after Cary, who was plowing through other students, knocking shoulders, and clearing a path.

  "I'll tell you about it later," I said and organized my books and notebooks for another day of school.

  Cary remained distant, barely looking at me in classes or in the hallways. He sat with his friends in the cafeteria and I sat with Robert. It was then that I told him about Cary and me getting into trouble for visiting my forbidden aunt.

  "How weird," Robert said. "No one will tell you exactly why she's off limits?"

  "No one thinks we're old enough yet," I muttered.


  "I've got relatives I haven't seen, but it's only because they're wrapped up in their own lives. My mother calls them the funeral family." He laughed at my look of puzzlement.

  "Funeral family?"

  "We see them only at the funerals of other family members. She says as far as she knows, these people have only black clothing."

  He laughed and I smiled.

  "That's better," he said. "That's more like my Laura. Do you want to go to the movies this weekend? I can splurge. My father paid me back wages. I can take you to dinner, too. I can even afford the Captain's Table!"

  "I'll see," I said and then quickly added, "what my father says. I want to go."

  "Good," Robert said, slipping his hand under the table to take hold of mine. He squeezed it gently. "Good."

  I wanted to wait until a little more time passed before I asked Daddy's permission to go to dinner and a movie with Robert. Fortunately, over the next few days, Daddy's mood improved because he was enjoying a good lobster catch and there was talk that the prices for the cranberries would go up in time for our harvest this year. One night after dinner and after I helped Mommy clean up, I stopped in the living room and asked him if it would be all right for Robert to take me to a movie.

  "And dinner first," I added.

  "Dinner?" Daddy's eyebrows rose. "The tourist season hasn't even started yet really, and he's got money to waste?" I smiled.

  "He doesn't think it's a waste to take me to dinner, Daddy," I said.

  Daddy shook his head.

  "When I was your age, going to a restaurant was something I did only with my parents."

  "It's different now, Daddy."

  "Aye, that it is, and not all for the better."

  "It's just a date, Daddy. I'm old enough to go on dates," I said softly, giving him my best smile.

  "Ask your mother about it," he said finally. This was the same as him saying it was all right. Of course, I knew Mommy would approve.

  I told Robert the next day at school, which made him very happy. We were both back to our old selves, holding hands, laughing, enjoying our time together. I felt a whole new energy, and I was eager now to face my exams and end the year on a high note.

  When Cary, Robert, and I left the building at the end of the day, however, we were surprised to see Grandma Olivia's Rolls-Royce in front of the school and Raymond waiting beside it. He waved as soon as he spotted us.