Orphans 02 Crystal

by V. C. Andrews

  He nodded.

  "Nothing happened no matter how we planned it. I used a thermometer to take my temperature, plotted the days on my calendar, even planned some romantic evenings," she said, blushing. She shrugged. "Nothing happened. We just thought we were missing," she continued. "Take better aim, I used to tell him, didn't I, Karl?"

  "Thelma, you're embarrassing me," he said.

  "Oh, fiddledy-doo. We're a family. We can't be embarrassed," she emphasized.

  The simplicity and honesty with which she talked about the most intimate details of her life fascinated me.

  "Anyway," she continued, turning back to me, "Karl read up on it and learned that he should keep his scrotum cool. He avoided wearing anything tight, refrained from taking hot baths, and tried to keep himself cool, especially before we were going to make a baby. We even waited longer between times because periods of sexual restraint usually increase the volume and potency of sperm, right, Karl?"

  "You don't have to get into the nitty-gritty details, Thelma."

  "Oh, sure I do. I want Crystal to understand. I was reading a magazine the other day, Modern Parent or something like that, and the article said mothers and daughters especially should be honest and open about everything so they can build trust.

  "Where was I?" she asked. "Oh, volume and potency of sperm. So, when that didn't work, we went to a doctor. You know that the average male produces anywhere from 120 million to 600 million sperm in a single ejaculation?"

  "You have trouble with so many other facts and statistics, Thelma. How come you don't forget that one?" Karl asked gently.

  "I don't know. It's not easy to forget, I guess:' she said, shrugging. "Anyway, we found out that Karl was way below that and it didn't matter what he did. We still tried and tried, of course, and then we finally decided to adopt. Actually, I got the idea from Throbs of the Heart by Torch Summers, and then I discussed it with Karl and be agreed it would be a good idea.

  "However, taking care of a baby is not an easy job. You have to wake up at night, and then you're too tired to do anything the next day, even watch television. So, that's how come we went looking for an older child and found you," she concluded.

  "Our baby-making problem is not that unusual," Karl interjected during the first quiet moment. "Infertility used to be thought mainly a woman's problem, but the problem lies with the man in thirty-five percent of the cases."

  "Karl feels-sorry, but I don't blame him:' Thelma said in a voice a little above a whisper. "It's like what happens in Love's Second Chance by Amanda Fairchild. Did you ever read that one? I know you read a lot."

  "No," I said. "I've never heard of it:'

  "Oh. Well, I think it was number one on the romance chart for four months last year. Anyway, April's lover has Karl's problem, only he doesn't know it until after April gets pregnant, obviously with someone else's child. It's so sad at the end when April dies in childbirth."

  Thelma's eyes actually teared oven Then she jumped in her seat and smiled.

  "Let's not think of sad things today. Today's a big day for all of us. We're going to a restaurant for dinner tonight, right, Karl?"

  "Yes. I thought we'd go to the Sea Shell. Do you like seafood, Crystal?" he asked.

  "I haven't eaten much of it, but yes," I said.

  "Ordinarily, we don't go out to eat. It's not practical," Thelma said. "But Karl believes the Sea Shell gives you the best value for your dollar."

  "Lobster and shrimp are expensive in

  restaurants especially, but they give you a good combination plate and plenty of salad and bread. I like their combination dinners. Good value," he pointed out. "You'll like their choice of desserts, too. I bet you like chocolate cake."

  "It's my favorite," I admitted. All this talk of food was making my stomach growl.

  "We have so much to learn about each other," Thelma said. "I want to know all your favorite things, like your favorite colors, favorite movie stars, favorite everything. I hope we have a lot of the same favorites, but even if we don't, it won't matter," she assured me, nodding so firmly it looked as if she was assuring herself just as much.

  A little more than an hour later, we drove up a residential street and pulled into the driveway of a small ranch-style house with light gray aluminum siding, black aluminum window shutters, a sidewalk between two patches of lawn, hedges along the sidewalk and in front of the house, and a red maple tree off to the left. A large, plain aluminum mailbox in front was labeled MORRIS and had the address printed under it.

  "Home sweet home," Thelma said as the garage door went up.

  We pulled into the garage, a garage that looked neater than some of the rooms in the orphanage. It had shelves on the rear wall, and everything on them was labeled and organized. The floor of the garage even had a carpet over it.

  Karl helped with my luggage and my box of books. I followed them through a door that led right into the kitchen.

  "Karl designed our house," Thelma explained. "He thought it was practical to come directly from the garage into the kitchen, so we could get our groceries easily out of the car and into their proper cabinets."

  It was a small but very neat and clean-looking kitchen. That was a breakfast nook on the right with a bay window that looked out on a fenced-in backyard. There wasn't much more lawn in the rear of the house than there was in the front.

  Above the table was a cork board with notes pinned to it and a calendar with dates circled. The front of the refrigerator had a magnetic board with a list of foods that had to be replaced.

  "Right this way," Karl said.

  We left the kitchen and walked through a small corridor that led first to the living room and front door. There was a short entryway with a closet for coats just inside it. There was a den off the entryway that had walls of bookcases, sofas, and chairs, all facing the large television set. Just past that was the dining room. The furniture was all colonial.

  My room wasn't much larger than my room at the orphanage, but it had bright, flowery wallpaper, filmy white cotton curtains, a desk with a large cupboard above it, and a twin-size bed with pink and white pillows and comforter. There was a closet on the left and a smaller one on the right.

  "You can use this smaller closet for storing things other than clothes," Karl explained.

  I paused at the desk and opened the cupboard to see a computer all set up inside.

  "Surprise!" Thelma cried, clapping "We got that just for you only two days ago. Karl priced them and found the best deal."

  "It's very updated," Karl said. "I have you connected to the Internet also, so you can get your research done right in your room when you start school in a few weeks."

  "Thank you," I said, overwhelmed. No one had ever bought me anything expensive. For a moment, it took my breath away, and I just ran the tips of my fingers over the keys to check that it was real.

  "Now, don't you get like some of those other children we hear about," Thelma warned, "and spend all your time alone staring at the computer screen. We want to be a family and spend time together at dinner and watching television."

  "Me, too," I said, nodding. I was really too excited to listen to anything she said. "Thank you." "It's our pleasure," Karl said.

  "I'll help you unpack your clothes, and we'll see what new things you'll need right away. We'll make a list, and Karl will tell us where it's best to go, right, Karl?"

  "Absolutely," he said.

  "Oh, dear. Oh, dear, no!" Thelma said, suddenly putting her hand to her heart.

  Mine skipped a beat. Had I done something wrong already?

  "What's the matter?" Karl asked her.

  "Look at the time," she said, nodding at the small clock on my computer desk. "It's a little past three. I'm missing Hearts and Flowers, and today Ariel learns if Todd is the father of her child. Do you watch that one?" she asked me. I looked at Karl for help. I had no idea what she was talking about.

  "She means her soap opera. How can she follow that one, Thelma? She would proba
bly be coming home from school or still be in school when that one is on."

  "Oh, I forgot that. Well, you know what I do when I have to miss a show. I videotape it. Only, with all the excitement, I forgot to set up the videotape machine. Do you mind waiting a little, dear? I'll help you unpack as soon as the show's over."

  "That's all right," I said, putting my first suitcase on the bed and snapping it open. "There isn't much for me to do."

  "No, no, no, Crystal, sweetheart." She reached for my hand. "You come with me. We'll watch the show together," she said, "and then we'll take care of your room."

  I glanced at Karl, hoping he would rescue me as Thelma pulled me toward the door.

  " Thelma, remember we have to get ready precisely at five to go to the restaurant," he said.

  " Okay, Karl," she said. She was really tugging me. I practically flew out of the room.

  "Welcome to our happy home," Karl called after me.

  2 Another World

  One of the biggest fears any of us orphans has is that when we do become part of a family, we won't be able to adjust to their style of life. We won't know how to behave at their dinner table, how to behave in front of the other relatives, how to keep our rooms and spend our time. In short, we won't know how to please our new parents. For us it would always be like an audition. We'd feel their eyes following us

  everywhere we went, hear their whispers, wonder what they really thought. Were they happy they had taken us into their lives, or were they sorry and looking for a graceful way to give us back?

  It was easy to adapt to life with my new parents, to know what they expected, liked, and disliked. There was nothing unpredictable about Karl. He was the most organized person I had ever met. He rose at precisely the same time every day, weekend or not.

  "People make a mistake sleeping later on the weekends," he told me. "It confuses their body clock."

  He also ate the same thing for breakfast every weekday, a combination of cold cereals, mixing the correct formula of fibers and grains with fruit. On weekends, he made himself an omelet with egg whites, or he had oatmeal and raisins. Although he was chubby, he paid attention to nutrition and wanted me to do the same.

  What he didn't do was exercise. He admitted that this was a fault, but he made little effort to correct it, the closest thing being his purchase of a treadmill, after what he described as months and months of comparison shopping. I commented that it looked brandnew, and he confessed that he still had to develop a regular schedule for its use.

  "Maybe now that you're here to remind me," he said, "I'll pay more attention to those things."

  I didn't think he needed my reminders for anything. All of his things were organized and inventoried. He knew exactly how many socks he had, how many white shirts, how many pairs of pants and jackets, how many ties. He could even tell me how much each item had cost. What was even more impressive was he knew just how many times he had worn what and knew when something had to be cleaned and pressed. He serviced his clothes the way people service their cars, and when something had been worn, cleaned, or washed a certain number of times, he retired it to a bag marked "To be donated."

  Karl continued his organized, regimented existence throughout his day, always eating at the same hour in the evening, watching his news program, reading his newspapers and his magazines, and going to sleep at exactly ten P.M. every night, even on weekends, unless they had plans for an evening out.

  If Thelma indicated she wanted to see a movie, Karl would research the reviews and report to her first, deciding whether or not it was a waste of money. If there was any doubt, he would suggest the matinee show because it was discounted and wasn't as great a risk.

  "Balance, Crystal?' he explained. "That's what makes life truly comfortable, maintaining balance. Assets on one side, liabilities on the other. Everything you do, everyone you meet has assets and liabilities. Learn what they are, and you'll know how to proceed?'

  He often lectured to me like that, and I listened respectfully, even though many times I thought he was being obsessive about it. Not everything in life could be measured on a profit-and-loss statement, I thought.

  In a way, Thelma's life was almost as regimented and organized as Karl's, only hers was determined by the television scheduling of her soap operas and other programs. If she left the house for any reason during the day, she scheduled her appointments and errands around what was on TV that day. Although she could videotape shows, she said it wasn't the same as being there when they were actually on.

  "It's like watching history being made rather than watching it later on the news?' she told me.

  She had reading time reserved, as well, and sat on her rocker with a lace shawl around her shoulders, reading whatever had come in that month from her romance novels club. Pots could boil over, phones could ring, someone might come to the door. It didn't matter once she was engrossed in her story; she didn't care. She truly left one world for another.

  Nevertheless, she was as devoted to Karl and his needs as any wife could be. On Sundays, Karl would plan the week's menu, carefully selecting foods that could be utilized in different ways so as to justify buying them in larger quantities or make use of leftovers. Thelma would then develop that menu, following it to a T. If something wasn't just the way Karl had planned it, she treated it like a major crisis. One morning, I had to go with her to another supermarket nearly twenty miles away because the one she shopped at didn't have the brand of canned peaches Karl wanted.

  Whereas Karl was a quiet, careful driver, Thelma talked so much from the moment she sat behind the wheel that my ears were ringing. Her attention was often distracted, and twice I jumped so high I nearly bumped my head on the roof when she crossed lanes abruptly and drivers honked their horns.

  A week after I arrived, we took a ride to visit Karl's father. He lived alone in a small Cape Cod-- style house, the same house he had lived in for nearly forty years. It was in a very quiet, old residential neighborhood of single-family homes, most as old as Karl's father's.

  Karl's father was taller and considerably thinner than his son, with a face that reminded me of Abraham Lincoln, long and chiseled. From the pictures I saw on the table in the living room, I concluded Karl took after his mother more. His brothers, on the other hand, resembled their father, both being taller and leaner than Karl.

  Papa Morris, as he was introduced to me, was a feisty old man who had worked for the city water department. He was content to live on his pension and social security, socialize with his retired friends, play cards, visit the local bar, and read his newspapers. Karl had arranged for a woman to come and clean twice a week, but Karl's father wouldn't permit anyone to cook for him.

  "When I can't take care of myself, know it," he muttered after Karl had made the suggestion again.

  However, the kitchen wasn't very clean. Pots were caked with beans and rice, and some dishes were piled up, waiting for the cleaning lady. Thelma went right to work when we arrived. I helped her, and we got the kitchen into some order while Karl and his father talked. Then we all sat in the living room and had fresh lemonade.

  Papa Morris stared at me with interest while Thelma described what a wonderful beginning we had all had together since I had come to live with her and Karl. Papa Morris's large, glassy brown eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  "You like livin' with these two?" he asked me skeptically.

  "Yes, sir," I answered quickly.

  "Yes, sir?" he muttered, and looked at Karl, who sat with his hands in his lap.

  "She's a very polite young lady," Thelma said. "A lot like Whelma Matthews on Days in the Sun," she added, looking at me proudly.

  "You don't have to call me sir, Missy. No one's ever called me sir. I don't wear no airs. I'm just a pensioner?'

  "She's very smart, Pa. All A's in school," Thelma continued.

  "That's good?' He nodded at me, his face softening some. "My Lily always wanted

  grandchildren, but none of my boys gave her any. Grandchi
ldren are sort of a return on your

  investment," he muttered.

  "Speaking of investments," he continued, turning to Karl, "what's been happening with that mutual fund you had me put my CD into, Karl?"

  "You're up twenty-two percent, Dad."

  "Good. Smart boy, Karl," he said and reached into his top pocket for some chewing tobacco.

  "You should give that up, Dad. It's been known to cause mouth cancer," Karl said. "I was just reading an article about that yesterday."

  "I've been doing it for fifty years. No point in stopping something I enjoy now, right, Thelma?"

  She looked at Karl apprehensively. "Well, I .

  "Of course you should, and of course there's a point to stopping, Dad. Why cause yourself unnecessary suffering?" Karl insisted.

  "I'm not suffering. I'm enjoying. I don't know who's a worse nag, you or that woman you send around here. All she does is complain about the work I make for her. How much you paying her?"

  "Ten dollars an hour," Karl said.

  "Ten dollars! You know," he said, looking at me, "once that was enough to feed the family for a week."

  "There have been many reasons for inflation since then," I said.

  "That so? You an economic genius like Karl?" he asked me.

  "No, sir. I just read a little."

  "Oh, she reads a lot, Pa. She reads more than I do," Thelma said.

  "Lily liked to read," he said, and thought a moment. Then he slapped his hand down hard on the arm of his chair. Thelma and I jumped in our seats.

  "Well now, you bring this polite young lady around more often," he said, rising.

  "We can stay a little longer, Pa," Thelma said.

  "Well, I can't," he said. "I've got to meet Charlie, Richard, and Marty at Gordon's for our regular game of pinochle," he told her sternly.

  Thelma looked to Karl.

  "Well, we just came by to introduce you to Crystal and see how you were doing, Dad," Karl said, standing.

  "I'm doing as good as I can with what I got," he said, looking toward me.