Eye of the Storm

by V. C. Andrews

  I suppose it's unfair to ask you anything and put you on the spot. I want you to know I'm not in any way expecting you to do anything for me. It's just nice to have someone I can trust to write to and listen to now.

  I hope everyone is well. I'll let you know what I finally do decide andwhen I will be returning.

  Love, Rain

  I considered signing it your daughter, Rain, but thought it was best to just write my name. I addressed it and got it ready to send.

  Just before noon I heard the doorbell. Of course. Corbette hadn't even bothered to call me back to let me know about the restaurant and our dinner date. but I hadn't expected he would. Now, I wondered if he had decided to return in person, maybe thinking I was still worth seducing again.

  My mouth opened with surprise when I discovered it was Aunt Victoria. Since when had she decided she would ring the doorbell instead of just burst right in?

  "I'd like to speak with you," she said.

  It was partly cloudy and cooler, so she wore a dark blue woolen knee-length coat over her gray business suit. She was wearing a pair of black leather gloves as well. Her hair, which normally was simply brushed back with a slight wave that looked like a last-minute thought, was neater, more styled. I noticed that she was wearing some makeup, including a brighter pink lipstick. It actually softened her face and when it did that. I did see more resemblances to Jake.

  "I thought we had said everything yesterday," I replied.

  "No. May I come in or are you just going to keep me out here?"

  "Come in." I said with a slight shrug.

  She entered and pulled off her gloves. "Do you have any coffee on?"

  "Coffee? Yes," I said, even more surprised. "Good."

  I just stood there for a moment and she raised her eyebrows. "You want to have it in the breakfast nook?" I asked,

  "Fine," she said and walked down the corridor quickly, her heavy, square-heeled shoes clicking like the taps of a tiny hammer. She was so long-legged that when she walked, her feet seemed to have a slight snap each time she took a step.

  I hurried to the kitchen and got out a cup and saucer.

  "What was it like working for my aunt and uncle in London?" she asked, taking off her coat and placing it on a chair.

  "It wasn't very pleasant," I said. "They have this slave master. Mr. Boggs, who runs the house like a military operation. He actually has a drill with white gloves, checking on the dusting and polishing."

  "It doesn't surprise me,' she said. "The one time I was there. I couldn't wait to leave. Do they still have that silly little cottage in the back kept like some sort of a mausoleum filled with Heather's toys?"

  I froze for a moment.

  "You know all about that?" "Of course." she said. "When I was there. I was almost burned at the stake for daring to enter it."

  "Yes, it's still there," I said. I poured her a cup of coffee. "Milk?"

  "Thank you," she said.

  Was it my imagination or was dreadful Aunt Victoria behaving like a human being toward me?

  I poured myself a cup and sat across from her.

  "I know." she began. "that I look like the bad one here. It was always that way. Whenever a problem arose and a hard, but important, decision had to be made, your mother would go sailing off someplace and leave it all to me. So naturally, I was the one people resented. Even my own mother resented me," she complained, her voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.

  It occurred to me that I hadn't seen her cry at Grandmother Hudson's funeral, not even a single tear. She was the one supervising the arrangements, making sure it was all perfectly coordinated down to where cars would be parked at the cemetery. My mother sobbed and with reddened eyes greeted people, hugged people and let people hug her. Victoria seemed aloof and in charge riot only of the details of the funeral, but her own emotions as well.

  "I loved her in my own way, when I was permitted to love her. As you know from the short time you were here, my mother was a very strong, domineering woman. She hated compromise and was intolerant of failure and stupidity. I thought she would love me more for being more like her than Megan was, but do you know what. Rain? I've come to the conclusion my mother didn't like herself very much. That's right," she said when I widened my eyes. "at the end of her life, she had decided she didn't and that's why she favored you so quickly and with such uncharacteristic charity.

  "Maybe she saw you as a third daughter, someone not as weak as Megan, but someone not as strong as me. Maybe you were more like the daughter she wished she had. I thought about this all night last night, trying to understand why she had left you so much of our family's fortune and that's what I have concluded."

  She sipped her coffee and gazed out the window for a long moment. Had I misjudged her? Was I as unfair and unsympathetic as I accused her of being?

  "As you witnessed for yourself yesterday, my sister isn't going to be any great help to you or to this unpleasant situation we all find ourselves in," she continued. "Frankly. I'm tired of doing all the dirty work in this family. I have my own ambitions and interests. too.

  "Therefore. I've decided to declare a trace between us, if you are amenable."

  "A truce?"

  "Grant's right. We don't need to fill the pockets of lawyers, who in the end, will benefit the most from any family dispute." she explained. "For good or for worse, my mother decided that you and I would become partners of sorts. I will continue to make money for the family business and you will benefit from it. How does all this sound so far?'

  "All right," I said cautiously. I felt like someone waiting for the second shoe to drop. "What do I have to do?"

  "Do? There's nothing for you to do. You can return to the life you want. I imagine you want to go back to England, isn't that so?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Well then, what we'll do is simply put up the house and property for sale and invest the profits."

  "I don't know," I said.

  "You don't know?"

  "This house. I keep thinking how important it was to Grandmother Hudson."

  "Yes, it was, but she's gone and there's the upkeep to think about now. How can a girl like you think about staying here indefinitely?"

  "A girl like me?'

  "Young with your whole life ahead of you." she replied. "You can't want all this worry, especially if you plan on being in England."

  "I suppose that's true," I said.

  'Of course, it's true. Everyone has his or her destiny to fulfill. Mine, for better or for worse, was to walk in my father's footsteps for a while and then fill those footsteps when he was gone. I've done well for the family. Mother never wanted to admit it and give me credit. She was old school and had this old fashioned idea that women don't belong in the world of business. In her day strong women were content subtly manipulating their husbands like puppets, remaining hidden in the background. behind the curtain of what was considered proper and what was not.

  "I recall how she thought it was so unfeminine of me to be interested in stocks and bonds. Mother died not really knowing the difference between a junk bond and a municipal."

  "I don't know the difference,," I confessed.

  "Just my point. And why it is so important we get along. I'm not asking you to learn the difference or change the direction of your life, but there's a considerable estate to protect and maintain. You can appreciate that. I'm sure."

  "Yes." I said.

  "Good. Well, I'm happy we had this little chat," she said. "There is some paperwork I'll bring over in the next day or so, some matters we have to resolve with the investments. Don't worry. I'll explain it all to you clearly. I have a feeling,'" she said standing and reaching for her coat. "that it will be easier talking to you about some of this than it would be talking with Megan.

  "By the way," she added as she put on her coat, "I'm not surprised she hadn't told Brody and Alison the whole truth about you. Tomorrow. remember? Everything's put off until tomorrow. Tomorrow, she'll worry about it," she
said, laughed and started out.

  I followed her to the door. She turned back to me after she opened it.

  "I'm so glad I decided to have this conversation with you. Who wants to be wrapped up in all this unpleasantness with all we have yet to do with our lives? And don't worry about Grant. I'll speak with him and make sure he understands it all," she added.

  As she walked out, I wondered if that wasn't the real reason she was being so nice and so reasonable: showing Grant she could handle things, handle me better than Megan could, and showing him how she was the one in the end who helped him protect his precious image.

  Did she really hope to steal her sister's husband?

  Knowing what I knew of them all now, I wasn't willing to bet a nickel on what any of them might do to each other, much less to me.

  I closed the door, my head spinning.

  What had just happened? What did it all mean? Was she sincere? Had she really thought about it all night?

  I felt like running upstairs, packing and getting myself on the first plane to London.

  Jake squinted suspiciously when I told him all that had happened. including Victoria's surprise visit and flag of truce. He had brought the Rolls-Royce back after having its scheduled service at the garage completed and I went out to talk to him.

  "She just left," I concluded. "She says she's coming back with paperwork. Do you think I ought to have Mr. Sanger read it all first?"

  "Of course." he replied quickly. "Don't ever relax and close your eyes around Victoria." he warned.

  I smiled.

  "I didn't need you to warn me about that. Jake. but I've got to say you don't exactly sound like a proud father."

  He laughed and then grew serious,

  "I didn't have anything to do with her upbringing. Everett was the biggest influence on her, a far bigger influence than Frances, despite what Victoria might have told you. Everett taught her how to be indifferent, analytical and cold when involved with business. I remember her telling Frances once that Everett had warned her she would be dealing mostly with men in the business world and that men in that world had little respect for women. They would always be looking to take advantage of her, cheat her, outsmart her. Everett's advice to Victoria was to pretend to be naive, innocent and weak, and when she got enough information to go for the jugular.

  She got so she enjoyed it. He taught her how to be a corporate hit woman, a hunter whose prey was good business opportunities and weak opponents. 'If Daddy were alive, he would be proud of what I've done.' she would say.

  "She's a lot like my grandfather. Jake added. "The little I remember about him. that is.

  "But don't misunderstand me. Rain. I give Victoria credit for being so successful in business. Everett wasn't wrong. Men would have eaten her for breakfast if she wasn't as firm and smart as she is. There's little compassion for your competitor when it comes to making money. The bigger the stakes, the less compassion. There are some good things to learn from Victoria.

  "However," he said. "she views you as one of those competitors, so here's my advice: watch your back.'

  "Okay, Jake."

  He nodded and looked around. The sky was cloudless. It was turning out to be one of the most beautiful days since my arrival. The breeze was warmer and the air was clear. Everything glittered.

  "You know what you should do today," he said. "you should take my pony. Rain, for your first ride. She's ready and waiting. What' dya say?"

  "I don't know."

  "C'mon. You'll enjoy it. She's been asking for you," he said.

  I laughed. I had enjoyed my riding classes at Dogwood and was looking forward to getting in the saddle again.

  "Okay, Jake," I said and went in to change into my riding pants and boots, an outfit Grandmother Hudson had bought me for Dogwood.

  "Very professional looking," Jake said when I returned. "Rain will be impressed."

  "We'll see." I said and we drove off to the farm where Jake boarded his horse.

  At the stable. I marveled at how beautiful Rain had become. She was a chestnut brown horse with an almost blond mane. She looked at me with curiosity when I drew closer and then lifted her left front leg and stomped the wooden floor.

  "That's how she says hello," Jake told me. "She doesn't say hello to just anyone, so you're off to a great start."

  I laughed and scratched her snout. Jake gave me some sugar cubes to feed her while he went for her saddle and bridle. I knew how to feed a horse, how to keep my palm flat and let her pluck the cubes out. She nodded.

  "That's her thank you," Jake said as Rain backed up. Jake threw the saddle over her and fastened the girth. "You should be able to do this yourself. right?"

  "It was one of the first things they taught us in class," I said.

  "You do the bridle," he told me and I did. Rain put up no resistence.

  I watched Jake clean her hooves with his hoof pick. He tightened the saddle and told me to get up so he could adjust the stirrups. That done, he led us out of the stable.

  "Take her west. You'll see the beaten track. It will bring you to the crest of that hill," he said pointing. "From there, by the way, you can look down on your proper:, house and all. Continue following the track and it will bring you back here. It should take you about an hour and a half.

  "Just squeeze her gently with your legs and lean a bit forward and she'll bust into a lope. She likes it, but she likes to test you and will resist when you pull back. Don't let her have her way once, not even a little bit. She's like a spoiled teenager. Once you establish you're in control, she'll be as gentle as a lamb. Okay?"

  "All right. Jake," I said.

  "Have a good ride. I'll be waiting for you," he said. "I've got to go see the guy who owns these stables."

  He started away. My heart raced. I could feel the horse's .great strength beneath me. She twisted her neck with impatience at my hesitation. but I held the reins tight for a moment to do just what Jake had prescribed.

  "We'll go when I'm ready." I said and then I loosened my grip and squeezed her ever so gently. She started forward, her head up, prancing proudly toward the path. I looked back and saw Jake watching.

  "That's it." he said. "You're sittin' up straight and perfect. I knew it." he called.

  He was right. Minutes after I had begun, all I had learned and all my past riding experience returned. After I had conquered my initial fears at Dogwood. I grew to love being on horseback. The irony of a poor girl growing up in the streets of the inner city finding herself dressed in an expensive riding outfit being trained along with some of the wealthiest young women in the area never left me. Even now, it brought a smile to my face. I used to sit on the horse and think how Mama Arnold would just roar with laughter and tears of happiness.

  I could feel Rain's desire to break into a lope. She pulled on the reins, tossed her head from side to side, snorted, whinnied, did everything but rear up and toss me off. I pulled her to a halt and made her stand still. She lowered her head and tossed it again and then lifted her head and stamped her right front foot. Finally, she settled down and I let her go forward, slowly. After five minutes or so. I gave her more head and she broke into that lope. It was beautiful, like riding on the wind. Then I was afraid I was giving her too much and pulled her back as we drew closer to the hill.

  We went up slowly and at the top. I stopped and gazed out just as Jake had instructed. There was Grandmother Hudson's beautiful big house, mostly mine now, nestled in the valley. The lake looked painted silver. High above two crows circled. Seeing the property from this prospective filled my heart with joy.

  How could we just sell it off as an investment, treat the land and the house like some stock or bond on the market? It had too much personality, history. It wasn't a piece of property; it was a home.

  Victoria was going to have to battle with me about this. I concluded. Seeing it from this height, I was convinced it was Grandmother Hudson's purpose to give me the controlling interest. that I would know the meaning of hom
e and want to protect and cherish it.

  Rain looked out as if she, too, appreciated the view. She wasn't impatient. I stroked her neck.

  "Someday soon, we'll ride over there. Rain. You can come visit me," I told her and then we continued over the path, through some woods, past a sparkling stream of water where the afternoon sunlight turned the river's stones into jewels and crystals as the light filtered through the surrounding trees.

  I gave my four-footed namesake another chance to lope and then we slowed down, making our way back toward the stables where Jake waited. Sitting on a chair, reading a paper, he watched us approaching and then he stood up.

  "Well?"

  "It was wonderful. Jake. Thank you."

  "She looks like she got a good workout. Princess. You did good."

  After we walked her and cooled her down. I brushed her for about a half hour. At Dogwood, they always made us brush our horses. It was the best way for them to get used to you. By the time Jake and I left it was late in the afternoon.

  "I'll see you soon. Rain," I told her. She twisted her neck and then nodded as if she understood.

  "That you will." Jake said. "When you return to England, maybe you should do some riding," he suggested after we got into his car.

  "Maybe." I said. I looked back at the horse ranch as we drove off. "It's really beautiful here. Jake. I made a decision up there. I'm not going to sell," I said. "For as long as I can. I'm going to keep the house."

  He laughed. "Good." he said.

  "When I return to England, you should move in and take care of it," I added.

  "I don't know about that. Princess.'

  "I do. Think about it. Jake. Someday. I'd like to come back here and think of it as my home. too. I know you'll see that it's well maintained. Okay?"

  "I don't know. Princess," he repeated. "It has a lot of memories for me. We'll see." he promised.

  I sat back in deep thought. Was I just dreaming, creating my own world of fantasy to ignore the hard reality? How could I ever return here? What would I be returning to?