Gates of Paradise (Casteel Series #4)
Page 6
"I just couldn't stand it anymore out there, Annie. I decided the best thing to do was come in here and wait for it all to end. She's throwing herself on all of them, and the way they kiss her and the way she kisses them back . . ." He shook his head. "What is she trying to prove?"
"That she can be young and beautiful forever, maybe; that forever and ever young men will desire her."
"Why doesn't she just act her age? Why can't she have class, like Heaven?"
"She's making a scene with Daddy now, and Mother's getting angry," I said, not masking my anger.
He looked up quickly. "Is she? I had a nightmare about that. What is your father doing?"
"I think he's just trying to be polite and not have her escalate into any more embarrassing scenes, but I don't know how long Mother will put up with it. I feel so sorry for her, Luke."
"I guess I had better get back out there. Maybe I can do something. I'm sorry," he said.
"You can't spend your life apologizing for your mother, Luke."
"Seems that's all I've been doing since I can remember." He straightened up. He looked very handsome, dressed in a light blue sports jacket and tie.
His rich black hair was soft and wavy. He looked like a man, I thought, not a boy anymore, a man who could handle a situation like this. I followed him out.
The band had changed the music. Suddenly
they were playing a Willies hoedown, and the men from the shacks had formed a circle around Aunt Fanny and Daddy, who looked like he was holding on for dear life now as she swung him around, his once neatly brushed hair now flying about wildly.
I spotted Mother off to the side, standing under a pine tree. She had a plate of food in her hands, but she wasn't eating any of it.
"Your father's making a fool of himself," she muttered when Luke and I stepped up beside her. "I'm just waiting for him to come to his senses, but by my count he's had four drinks already."
"I'll cut in on them," Luke volunteered. He lunged forward before my mother could respond. He pulled two men apart and entered the circle, seizing Aunt Fanny's loose right hand and pulling her toward him and away from Daddy, who spun around in confusion for a moment. He got his footing, saw Fanny was dancing with Luke, and backed out of the center of the circle. Mother stepped forward.
"You'd better put something in your stomach, Logan, and soak up some of that alcohol," she said, her voice as hard as nails.
"Huh?"
He looked at me and then at the circle of men and women clapping and now joining Luke and Fanny in their dance. Then he wiped his face with his handkerchief and nodded.
"Your sister's crazy," he said. Mother just glared at him. "I am starved," he added quickly, and headed for the tables of food. I watched him stumble along, and when I lifted my eyes toward the sky, I saw Roland Star's sneaky clouds begin to crawl over the dark purple mountains, heading directly for Winnerrow.
Daddy filled a plate with food and flopped into a seat by one of the tables Fanny had set up on the lawn. Mother and I joined him, and we ate as we watched the crowd of revelers working themselves into a wilder and wilder frenzy. I recognized many people from town. Fanny had obviously invited everyone she came across, I thought, determined to make her party a memorable occasion for Winnerrow.
Most of the people were laborers and service folk. None of my parents' high-class friends had attended, not even out of respect for them; but I knew that was something Mother would forgive them for. I couldn't remember ever seeing my Mother look as uncomfortable as she did now.
Suddenly Aunt Fanny stopped the dance and
went to the leader of the band. He nodded, and the band played a short introduction followed by a drum roll. Aunt Fanny turned over a small garbage can and had two of her young male admirers help her up onto it.
"I got a few words to say," she began.
"Only a few?" someone shouted, and there was a hubbub of laughter.
"Well, maybe a dozen or so more," Aunt Fanny countered, and there was more laughter. "I'd like ta thank ya all fer comin' ta my fortieth birthday party.
That's right, I said forty, an' I'm darn proud of it, proud ta be forty but look like twenty." She spun around on the turned-over garbage can to show off her figure, thrusting her breasts out. The men around her whistled and stomped their feet.
I looked at Luke. He had retreated to the
sidelines and lowered his head. I felt terrible for him and wished I could take his hand and lead him away, far away.
"Other women, especially the high and mighty ones in Winnerrow who couldn't bring themselves ta come ta ma party, lie about their age. They gotta.
When they were twenty, they looked forty."
There was more laughter. Then one of her
young men shouted, "I'm twenty, Fanny. How many times does twenty go into forty?"
The laughter grew louder. Fanny beamed, put her hands on her hips and turned to him.
"Not once," she exclaimed, and her audience howled. "Anyway, you dummies, I gotta lot ta be happy about tonight. Ya see my son Luke standin'
over there, lookin' as though he would like to crawl under a rock. Weil, he's done me proud. He's been accepted ta Harvard, and they want 'im so bad they goin' ta pay-the whole darn bill. How's that fer a Casteel, eh?"
Luke looked up, his face so red I thought he would just burst into flame. Everyone had turned to stare at him.
"Well, ya want ta make a speech about it, Luke honey, or don'cha think these hillbillies could understand ya?"
Luke didn't respond.
"That don't matter none, honey. I kin speak enough fer the two of us, and when I git to Harvard, show those professirs a thin' or two."
"You sure will, Fanny," someone shouted.
Then the band struck up "Happy Birthday" and the audience started to sing. Fanny, posed on the turned-over can, smiled widely at Mother and me.
When the song ended everyone applauded while a half-dozen young men rushed forward to help Fanny down.
Moments later our attention was drawn to two men who began pushing each other. One accused the other of cutting into the beer line ahead of him. Their friends, instead of separating them, egged them on until one swung at the other. People rushed to break them up. The whole thing struck Daddy as funny.
"I'm ready to leave, Logan," Mother announced firmly. "This party is only going to get worse and worse."
"In a minute," Daddy said, and rose to get closer to the fight. The two men were hurling curses at one another. I could hear Aunt Fanny's laughter over the din. The wind had intensified and the bulbs strung over the lawn began swinging back and forth. Aunt Fanny's banner snapped as it was driven up and back, so that it now waved loosely in the night like a flag of war.
Aunt Fanny came charging forward to the scene of the brawl.
"What's this 'bout fightin' on ma birthday?" she demanded, her hands on her hips. Three of her young boyfriends gathered around her and began describing the fracas. She was wobbling on her feet as she listened. Luke came up behind her, looked my way and shook his head. Mother suddenly surged forward and seized Daddy's arm.
"Logan, I want to go home. Now!" she insisted.
He stared at her a moment and then nodded. She led him over to where I stood.
"Let's go, Annie." The rage in her face looked like it was about to explode.
I got up and followed her, my father trailing behind, but before we made it to our car, Fanny spotted us and screamed.
"Where ya goin', Heavenly? Ma party's fist gettin' started!"
I looked back, but Mother told me just to keep walking to the car. Fanny's laughter followed us like a tail on a kite. Daddy stumbled behind us and caught up after I got into the back seat.
"Can you drive?" Mother asked him.
"Of course I can drive. I don't see what you're getting so excited about. Two guys had a little dis-agreement. Nothing to it. They're best of friends again already."
He got in and fumbled through his pockets for his keys.
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"You drank too much, Logan. I know you had something before we left for the party, too."
"Well? That's what a party's for, isn't it?" he said with surprising curtness.
"No," she said forcefully.
He found his key and concentrated on getting it into the ignition. I couldn't remember ever seeing him so confused. Suddenly a drop of rain struck the windshield with a splat. It was followed by another and then another.
"It looks like it's going to rain on the party, anyway," he said sullenly. "Roland was right."
"That's the best thing that could happen," my mother said. "It will cool everyone down, and everyone," she added, looking at him pointedly, "could use a little cooling down."
Daddy started the car and we lunged forward.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He turned to Mommy and looked at her belligerently.
"You shouldn't have let her kiss and maul you like that, Logan. Everyone saw it."
"Well, what was I supposed to do—beat her off?"
"No, but you don't have to be so cooperative."
"Cooperative? Oh, come on, Heaven. That's not fair. I was stuck, I—"
"Slow down, the rain is getting harder, and you know how these roads can get," Mommy admonished.
"I didn't want to dance like that with her, but I figured if I pulled away, who knows what she might say. She's as drunk as a Saturday-night Indian and -"
"Slow down!" she yelled, more vehemently this time.
Sheets of water were pouring over the
windshield now, and the wipers were unable to clear it away.
I hated to see them like this. I realized that the only time they had these fights was when Aunt Fanny was involved. Somehow, she always managed to cause trouble between them, scratching at old wounds or pouring salt over new ones. Too bad she didn't run off with one of her young men arid leave Luke to live with us, I thought. Then we could truly be a happy family and never have to worry about angry situations like this one.
"I can't see anything!" Mommy exclaimed, but Daddy wasn't listening.
"Can you imagine what's going on back there?"
he said, and laughed. He looked at Mommy. "I'm sorry if I caused you any pain, Heaven. Honest, I was just trying to—"
"Logan, keep your eyes on the road. These turns . . ."
The road down to Winnerrow was steep and
sharply curved. The rain, coming in from the east, was pounding the mountainside now. Daddy's erratic driving had me swinging from side to side in the rear.
I reached up and took hold of the handle above the window.
"You know I didn't mean to do anything—" he began again, but Mommy cut him off.
"All right, Logan," she stated emphatically.
"We'll talk about it when we get home." Suddenly, as we approached a sharp turn, a vehicle coming up the hill was too far on our side.
I heard Mother scream and felt the car swerve to the right. Then I felt the brakes lock.
The last thing I remember was Mommy's shrill scream and my daddy's now instantly sobered voice call out my name.
'Annie . . . Annie . . . Annie . . ."
FIVE
The Greatest Less
.
I opened my eyes, but it seemed to take an enormous effort, my lids felt as if they had been sewn shut I blinked and. blinked, each time ray eyelids opening and closing with less effort.
Where was I? The room was so white. An ugly, plastic light fixture was at the center of the ceiling.
And this bedding . it smelled starchy and felt so rough. And there was a tiny ringing in my ears.
"Annie! Nurse, she's opening her eyes. Nurse .
nurse!"
I turned slowly, my head feeling as if it had been turned to stone, like the bust of Jefferson Davis in the front yard of the Winnerrow School. A woman in white—a nurse—took my right wrist into her fingers to check my pulse, and I saw the i.v. tube attached to my arm.
I looked to my left. There sat a gray-haired elderly gentleman with the brightest light blue eyes I had ever seen. I turned back to the nurse. She was busying herself writing on a chart and only glanced quickly at the man, who took my left hand into his hands and leaned closer to me, close enough for me to get a whiff of his sweet after-shave.
"Who are you?" I asked. "What am I doing here?"
"Annie, I'm afraid that it has fallen to me to deliver the most terrible news you will ever hear. I hope you won't hate me for being the bearer of this great sorrow" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if it had taken the air out of him to say just those few words.
"What sorrow?" I tried to raise myself up, but below my waist my body felt numb. I was able only to lift my shoulders a few inches from the mattress.
"You were in a terrible car accident, and in a coma."
"Accident?" I blinked. Then it all came rushing back to me: the rain, my mother's scream, my father calling "Annie!" The wails of my heart quivered. "Oh, my God! Where are my parents? Where is my
mother? Mommy!" I -screamed, suddenly feeling frantic. I looked at the nurse. "Where's Daddy?" A cold, wet panic claimed me.
The strange man closed his eyes and then
opened them slowly, tightening his grip on my hand.
"Annie, I'm very sorry."
I felt as if I were living in a slow motion nightmare. I looked at the man and saw the pain in his eyes melt into tears. He lowered his head and then raised it to look at roe. "I'm so sorry, Annie."
"No!" I wanted to deny his words before he spoke them.
"They were both killed," he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. "You have been in a coma for two days."
"No!" I pulled my hand from his strong fingers and turned my face into the pillow. "No, I don't believe "I felt numb all over now, frozen, dead myself.
I didn't want to be here, and I wanted this man to go away. All I wanted was to be home again, to be with my parents. Oh God, I prayed, please make this happen and please make this terrible nightmare disappear. Please, please . .
"Annie, poor Annie." I felt him stroking my hair the way my mother often had. "I came as soon as they called me, and I've been at your bedside ever since."
I turned around slowly and peered over my
fingers. The man's face was full of sympathy and sorrow. He was mourning and hurting sincerely.
Suddenly it dawned on me who he was. This
was the mysterious Tony Tatterton, the prince of Farthinggale Manor, and he was here at my bedside.
"I hired round-the-clock nurses and flew in my own physicians for you, but the facilities here are far from adequate. I must get you to Boston and then to Farthinggale," he continued. Everything he said rushed by me like words mumbled in a dream. I shook my head.
"Mommy. I want to see her. Daddy . . ."
"They are dead and await burial back at Farthinggale Manor. I'm sure it's what your father would have wanted," he said softly.
"Farthinggale Manor?"
"The Stonewalls, your paternal grandparents, are both dead, or I would consult with them, but I'm sure they would want the same things—a proper interment for your parents and my using every available dollar toward getting you healthy and well again."
I stared at him a moment, and then the tears that had pressed themselves up against the floodgates behind my eyes broke free and I sobbed and sobbed, my entire upper body shaking. Tony Tatterton leaned forward to embrace me and hold me as best he could.
"I'm so sorry, my poor, poor Annie. Heaven's beautiful daughter, Leigh's granddaughter," he muttered as he kissed my forehead and gently pushed back strands of my hair. "But you won't be alone; you'll never be alone. I'm here now, and always be here for you as long as I live."
"What's wrong with me?" I asked through my tears. "I can't seem to move my legs. I don't even feel them!"
"You received a bad blow to your spine and your head. The doctors believes the trauma about your spine has affected your motor coordination, but you don't worry about what
's happened to you, Annie. As I said, make you well again." He kissed my tear-soaked cheek and smiled, his blue eyes soothing.
"Drake," I said. "Where's Drake? And Luke Junior. Where's Luke? Aunt Fanny," I muttered. I needed my family around me now, not this stranger.
Oh God, what was going to happen to me? I felt lost, bereft, empty, floating off like some kite in the wind whose string had torn. What would I do now?
"Drake's in the lobby, waiting. Luke and Fanny have been by a few times, and let them know you've come out of the coma," Tony said. "But first send my physicians in here."
"No. I want to see Drake first, and please call Luke and Fanny and tell them to come right away."
"All right, I will. Whatever you want." He kissed my cheek again and stood up. He smiled down at me in a warm but strange way and then left.
Moments later Drake entered the room, his face glum, his eyes bloodshot. Without speaking, he embraced me and held me so tightly to his chest, my tears burst out again. My sobbing brought pain into my back and heart. He kissed me and held me and rocked me like a baby, pressing his face to mine, his own tears mixing with mine.
"You know they were more like my parents,"
he said. "My real mother couldn't have loved me any more than Heaven did, and Logan always treated me the same as he would have treated his own son. Once, when I went for a ride alone with him, I remember him telling me that he always thought of me as his son. 'What's mine is yours,' he said 'and always will bed"
"Oh, Drake, can it really be true? Are they truly dead and gone?"
"Yes, and it's a miracle you're alive. I saw the car. It's a total wreck."
"I can't move my legs. They don't even feel like they're there."
"I know. Tony told me what the doctors think.
He's going to do everything for you, Heaven. He's an amazing and wonderful man. As soon as he heard the news, he turned the full power and wealth of his Tatterton empire to work. Doctors have been flown in and will be at your side continually. He's moved in one of his managers so that Logan's factory in Winnerrow can continue, because, as he says, it was so important to Logan and Heaven that the people here have something significant. He swears it will never go out of business and will even expand. He's already asked me if I would consider running it someday, after I graduate from college.