Forbidden Sister

by V. C. Andrews

  She did look beautiful. She wore a black coat with a white collar and a black dress beneath. Her hair had been done in an updo so her diamond teardrop earrings were easily seen. I saw she had a diamond bracelet, too.

  “Don’t you look nice,” she said. But then she added, “I’ll have to give you some tips about makeup. I think you can do more flattering things with your hair, too.”

  “I’m not exactly trying to look beautiful tonight, Roxy,” I said, even though I had tried.

  “We always try to look beautiful, M. Don’t let any woman tell you otherwise.”

  She took me to one of her favorite small restaurants on the Lower East Side. She explained that it was one of the few places she went to alone. The staff knew her and even knew what wine she liked and where she liked to sit.

  “You should return to school tomorrow,” she told me after we had ordered.

  “It will be a waste of time. I won’t be worth anything there,” I said.

  “You won’t be worth anything just sulking in waiting rooms or hovering around her, either. You’ll only make her nervous and upset. She has to believe that you can handle this.”

  “I can,” I insisted.

  “So prove it to her. Return to school. At least put on a good show. Spend time with your friends again . . .”

  “I don’t have any friends.”

  “How can you not have friends?” With a skeptical smile, she asked, “You don’t have a boyfriend?”

  “Not really. I’m spending some time with someone, but I haven’t—”

  “Haven’t what?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Haven’t even gone out on a date with him,” I said sharply. “I didn’t mean anything else.”

  “So you’re a virgin?”

  “Yes,” I said, maybe sounding a little too defensive. She laughed. “What?”

  “I was just thinking of something funny Mrs. Brittany said. ‘Are you now or have you ever been a virgin?’ ”

  “Who’s Mrs. Brittany?”

  She stopped smiling. “Never mind. I thought your generation was even less hung up on all these sexual inhibitions than mine was.” She smiled, tilting her head a little as she remembered something. “That was always an interesting contradiction to me with them.”

  “Who?”

  “Papa and Mama. Mama had, what should I say, a more liberal attitude about it all, and Papa . . . well, Papa was Papa, I guess. Wasn’t he on your back, checking on everything you did, sniffing around like a bloodhound looking for something not so much sinful as irregular, breaking some code of behavior or something?”

  “Yes, thanks to you,” I told her.

  She wiped away her disdainful smile. “Yeah, I bet. In his mind, I was the poster child for all that was bad. Let’s get back to you. She’s going to be in the hospital a while, and then she’s going to start treatments, and she’s going to be in and out often.”

  “I told you I can take care of myself. I can even pay our bills and balance our checkbook. Mama showed me how to do all that. Besides, the city is full of girls my age running homes, looking after younger brothers and sisters and even parents.”

  She nodded. “However, there will be a time . . .”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said. “But go back to school. I promise I’ll stop in to see her every day.”

  “What if you get an assignment?”

  “Don’t be a wise-ass. Here, taste this wine. It’s my favorite French white burgundy.”

  “I know it,” I said. “It’s Mama’s favorite, too.”

  “Yes,” she said, suddenly remembering. “I think that was how I got to know it.”

  She looked down for a moment like someone who might start to cry. Was I seeing a crack in that armor she had welded around her heart? As if she realized it herself, she looked up quickly and snapped an order at the waitress. Then she looked at me sternly.

  “Look, if you go to school tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at the end of the day, and we’ll visit her together, okay? Will you do it?”

  “Yes,” I said reluctantly.

  “Good. I guess I’ll call France,” she said.

  “You will?”

  “Do you want to do it? Maybe it is better that you do it.”

  “No, it’s all right if you do it,” I said. “Whom should we call first?”

  “The only one I really cared about was Uncle Alain.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “Mama would like it more if you called him,” I added.

  She thought for a moment and then nodded. “Okay. I can handle it.”

  They served our food.

  “Let’s eat,” she said. “You need to get a good night’s sleep.” She looked up with the follow-up question on her lips.

  “Stop worrying about it. I’ll be fine alone,” I said with the same tone she used on me. “I was alone last night, wasn’t I?”

  She nodded, and we attacked our dinner, stabbing and cutting our food as if it were the enemy. Anyone who didn’t know why would think we were starving. We were starving for something, all right, but it wasn’t food. We were starving for some hope, some respite from misery and sadness, some detour that would take us off the road of nightmares. I was sure now that Roxy had had her share of them even before all of this sadness about Mama had begun.

  Afterward, before she dropped me off, she plucked a light blue card out of her purse and handed it to me. “This is my direct telephone number. It doesn’t go through the service or the hotel. Call me if you need anything or if anything . . . just call me,” she said, thrusting it at me.

  I took it and looked at it. It didn’t have her name or anything on it. It was just a number. I nodded and stepped out of the limousine.

  “I’ll see you at the end of your school day. She’ll be happy you went.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll call and leave word for her in the morning so she won’t worry.”

  “Very good.”

  “Tell Uncle Alain love from me.”

  “I will.”

  The driver closed the door. I started up the stairs and then paused to watch her limousine quietly move down the street, turn, and disappear. The darkness seemed to see that as an opportunity to close in on me. I hurried into the house and finally checked the answering machine. There were two messages. One was from Aunt Lucy. She sounded very angry and didn’t ask for me to call her back; she demanded it. The other message was from Chastity. Someone had found out about Mama, and according to her, the story was bouncing off the walls in the school.

  “How is she? I hope she’s all right,” Chastity continued on the answering machine. “All anyone knows is that she had surgery. What was the surgery? Everyone’s worried about you. You know I’m here for you. Call me. I’ll come stay with you, if you like. Whatever. Call me.”

  Reluctantly, I called Aunt Lucy first. She barked a hello and began bawling me out before I could tell her anything. How could I not call her immediately? Didn’t I realize she would be waiting by the phone? Didn’t I realize she would be worrying about me? My uncle was beside himself with irritation. I recalled that Uncle Orman was never angry. He was always just irritated. I imagined him breaking out in rashes whenever something bothered him.

  I let her finish her tirade, and then I began to describe what the doctor had told Roxy and me, but I didn’t mention Roxy.

  “That man told you all that without an adult present?” she asked.

  “I’m an adult, Aunt Lucy. In some parts of the world, I would be married and have my own children by now.”

  “Don’t be facetious. I’ll have a word with him tomorrow. I’m coming to New York. You can come home with me.”

  “I’m going to school tomorrow, Aunt Lucy. I’ve missed enough work.”

  “What?” She was speechless a moment. “Oh. Well, I still think . . . that doctor had no right . . .”

  “My sister was with me,” I decided to reveal.

  “Sister? What sister?
Roxy was there?”

  “She’s the only sister I have,” I said.

  “Well . . . your uncle will want to hear about this. Now she decides to come out of the woodwork? I’m surprised she had the decency to do it. Is she staying with you now?”

  “No.”

  “That’s probably good.”

  “Look, I’m tired, Aunt Lucy. If you’re still at the hospital when I go there after school, I’ll see you. Roxy will be with me, too.”

  “She will? I . . . don’t think I’ll be there that long. I have to get back to prepare for a Pentagon charity ball.”

  “Have a good trip, coming and going,” I said, and hung up.

  There was still a good possibility that she could run into Roxy at the hospital. I smiled to myself, imagining the look on her face if she did. It was practically the only amusing thing that I had thought of in days. I debated returning Chastity’s call. I even considered her offer to come over to stay with me but decided against it. I didn’t have the emotional strength to put up with her right now, I thought, and went up to bed.

  Amazingly, I fell asleep quickly, and I almost overslept. When I saw the time, I rushed about to dress and get some breakfast. I called the hospital and was connected with the nurses’ station in ICU. The nurse told me that Mama was resting comfortably and promised to give her the message that I was going to school and would see her afterward. I wasn’t very eager to go, but Roxy was right. I couldn’t just sit around the hospital waiting room all day, and it would upset Mama.

  I didn’t doubt the truthfulness of what Chastity had told me on the answering machine. Because our private school was so small, serious news about anyone or anyone’s family was common knowledge in a matter of hours, a day at most. That was the way it had been when Papa died, so I didn’t expect anything less. My teachers were as sympathetic and forgiving as they had been then, and no one was catty or nasty to me. Although he didn’t come over to speak to me, I saw a look of compassion on Evan’s face. Chastity, as I had expected, pounced. She was all over me the moment I approached my locker.

  “How is she? Didn’t you get my message?”

  “I was home too late to call you,” I said, and hung up my coat in the locker.

  “So how is she? Is it serious?”

  “Any surgery is serious,” I said. I started away, but she followed as closely as a conjoined twin.

  “But what was it for? There are all sorts of rumors flying about.”

  “I don’t feel like talking about it right now, Chastity. I’d like to keep my mind off it for a while, okay?”

  “Okay, sure. I understand. Is anyone staying with you? Because I could really do that,” she added quickly.

  Fortunately, Richard hurried to my side as soon as he saw me heading for my homeroom.

  “Excuse me,” I told Chastity, and joined him.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “How is your mother?”

  “She’s recuperating,” I said. “She’ll be there a while. Thanks.”

  “Um, is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Keep the busybodies off me.”

  He smiled and was there to escort me whenever he could. He offered to do anything I needed done, but I told him I was fine. He was a sweet and innocent boy who had seemed to fill a gap in my life when I needed it filled, but deep inside, I knew I wouldn’t jump into any romance with him, certainly not as quickly and as eagerly as I had with Evan. Why was it that someone as self-centered as Evan was more attractive? Why was evil more interesting than good? Maybe that was because there was more of it inside ourselves than we cared to admit.

  The schoolwork did keep me from dwelling on Mama’s condition and prognosis. I really didn’t want anyone to know how serious the situation was, and by seeming to be interested in my subjects, answering questions, reading my assignments, and spending time with Richard whenever I could, I knew I gave the impression that everything was going to be all right.

  Before the school day ended, Chastity tried again to get more involved with me and what was happening. Richard was at basketball practice, so I couldn’t use him as a shield. She leaped at the opportunity when I was getting my coat out of my locker.

  “I could come over tonight, if you like,” she said. “Or we could go to dinner. I’ll take you out. My mother suggested it,” she added. “We don’t want you to be alone, Emmie. Even if it’s just for a short time. You’d be there for me, I’m sure. So don’t feel like you’re putting any burden on me or anything. I want to be your friend. I want . . .”

  I thought for a moment before saying it, but I decided that it would provide me with the excuses I would otherwise have to invent.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m not alone, Chastity.”

  “Oh. Who’s with you, your aunt from Washington? Relatives from France?”

  She followed me to the door. Roxy’s limousine was waiting. I didn’t have to say any more.

  I walked out, and when the driver opened my door, I slipped in as if I had been riding in a limousine all my life.

  Glancing back through the tinted windows, I saw Chastity standing there, gaping after me, looking like a guppy in a fishbowl, its mouth open in anticipation of food particles floating through the water.

  17

  “How is she?” I asked Roxy quickly.

  “Much more alert. She was happy about your going to school. How was it?”

  “Tolerable.”

  “That’s the way I always felt about it, tolerable. So,” she said as we started away, “guess who I met today.”

  “Aunt Lucy,” I said.

  “You knew she would be there?”

  “She said she would, but I didn’t know when. I told her you and I would be there about now, and she said she would be on the way home by then.”

  Roxy nodded. “She looked very surprised to see me, so I thought you hadn’t told her anything.”

  “Surprised? Was she nasty to you?”

  “Not exactly nasty. Formal. She insisted on calling me Roxanne. She always did, and I would never respond. Naturally, Papa thought I was being disrespectful. Anyway, she pleaded with me to have you go live with them. According to her, they’re very concerned about us—about you, I mean. She said if you agreed, they would arrange for Mama to have around-the-clock nursing at home. They would get you enrolled in the school the military’s children attend. She told me that if I wanted to do anything for Mama, it would be to persuade you to go.”

  “Why is this so important to them all of a sudden? Before this, we hardly ever heard from them or saw them. You know they didn’t come to Papa’s funeral.”

  She shrugged. “The military takes care of its own. Something like that, I guess. She’s simply carrying out orders.”

  “But Papa wasn’t in the military.”

  “Uncle Orman and our grandfather never accepted that.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her whether you go or not is up to you, not me.”

  “Good.”

  She looked down. I could feel that there was something more.

  “What, Roxy?”

  “We met with the doctor afterward for a few minutes,” she said.

  “And?”

  “When he first spoke to us, he didn’t tell us he had taken a biopsy when they operated. She had another tumor. It’s not good news, M.”

  I digested her words, and then, despite my determination to appear strong, I started to cry. She put her arm around me and held me close.

  “Does Mama know?”

  “Not yet, but he will tell her,” she said.

  “So Aunt Lucy heard that, too?”

  “Yes. That’s why she was so adamant about you not being alone, and she certainly doesn’t want you anywhere near me.”

  “I don’t care what she wants. Did you call Uncle Alain?”

  “Yes. He was very upset it. Shocked to hear from me but very concerned about you. I called him again before I went to get you at scho
ol and told him the additional news. I told him we would call frequently. He sounded as if he was crying. I didn’t realize that despite time and distance, he and Mama held on to a relationship that must have been close.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “He said he would call his sisters, so you can expect they’ll call you, I imagine.”

  “I barely remember them.”

  “Look,” she said as we continued to the hospital, “maybe you should give some serious consideration to accepting Aunt Lucy and Uncle Orman’s invitation.”

  I started to shake my head.

  “I can’t be here for you every day, M. In fact, I’m trying to put something off, but it’s proving very difficult, if not impossible. I’ll probably have to leave tomorrow for five days or so.”

  “That trip to St. Thomas on a private jet?”

  “Yes.”

  “So go. I can get to the hospital myself,” I said sullenly.

  “I know you can get to the hospital, and I’m not apologizing. I have a life I’ve chosen—or, maybe more accurately, a life that was chosen for me—and I just can’t put it on hold like some people can with their lives,” she snapped back.

  I didn’t want to get into all that. Right now, all I could think about was Mama. “Do what you want to do, Roxy,” I said. “You always did.”

  She didn’t reply. She turned away and looked out the window. We rode in silence the rest of the way.

  “Maybe you should go in to see her by yourself this time,” she said when the driver opened the door for me.

  “Fine,” I said, and got out.

  “You haven’t spent time alone with her, and you should,” she shouted after me.

  I didn’t look back. I forbade a single tear to leave my eyes and pressed my lips together. I paused when I entered the hospital and worked on getting myself calm. The last thing I wanted to do was show Mama I was upset about anything.