Casteel - Gates Of Paradise Part 34

"No, I wasn't thinking about that, Aunt f.a.n.n.y. I was thinking about Mommy and how hard it must have been for her to discover all this, too. She never let anyone know, though, did she? And neither did you."

"No. I neva told n.o.body 'cept that no account lawya I had during the custody hearin'. It didn't come out 'cause me and yer ma made a deal. We bought and sold Drake betwixt us jist like we was bought and sold." She looked down, ashamed.

"Whatever you did in the past is over and finished, Aunt f.a.n.n.y. You've more than made up for it now."

"Why, do ya mean that, Annie darlin'?" I nodded. "Even havin' Luke Junior with ya pa?"

"We'll all make the best of what we are and what we have."

"Well, ain't ya a wonderful young lady." Her face turned sad. "But now ya know I ain't really ya aunt."

"Oh no, Aunt f.a.n.n.y. You will always be my aunt. I don't care what the blood relationships are."

"Well, I love ya jist as much as I could even if ya was blood related, Annie. I love ya more; I love ya like a daughter, an' Luke and ya are still half brotha, half sista."

"Yes," I said, and looked of through my window at the roof of the gazebo below. I couldn't help thinking about how much had changed since the accident. My mother hadn't really been a Casteel, even though she had been brought up as one, had lived in that shack and had thought Toby and Annie Casteel were her true grandparents. Even though these revelations were painful and disturbing for me now, I couldn't even begin to imagine what the effect must have been on my mother when she finally learned the truth. It was like losing her whole family in an instant and suddenly being adopted by strangers.

And then suddenly to be cast as a Tatterton and have to live in that mansion filled with memories that had made her true father jealous and disturbed. No wonder she fled from it with little Drake in her arms. Drake! He was not really my uncle, but surely he didn't know, and wouldn't unless Tony babbled the truth to him one day in a fit of madness. I was not eager to tell him. The pain of this revelation must remain enclosed within my heart, I thought.

I realized I had lost not only my parents, I had also lost my heritage, one of the important things that had linked me with Luke. We no longer shared a past filled with rich stories about life in the w.i.l.l.i.e.s, stories about our great-grandfather Toby. I had no past now because mine was linked to Tony Tatterton and I didn't want that link; I didn't want to remember anything he had told me about his father and grandfather.

I was truly about to start a new life and be someone different. Who would I be? How would it change the way Luke and I were with each other? The future was so unclear, and more frightening than ever. I had been dropped into a different sort of maze, and I had no idea how long I would wander about trying to find my way through it. I longed for someone like Troy, someone to take my hand and to guide me. Aunt f.a.n.n.y was more wonderful than I had ever imagined she could be, but even she was overwhelmed by all that had happened.

I couldn't call for Daddy or go to Mommy. And Drake was so infatuated with Tony Tatterton and his position in Tony's enterprises, he was no longer as dependable as he used to be. I had lost the uncle who had been more of a big brother to me, lost him to the glitter of wealth and power. At this moment Tony seemed like the Devil and Drake like one of his victims.

My only bright and hopeful thoughts came when I thought about Luke. I would tell him how I felt and what my fears were. But would I be too much for him? Would he be overwhelmed by the responsibility of being a comfort and support to someone who was so desperate and alone? I had become much more than he had bargained for; that was certain.

Aunt f.a.n.n.y helped me change into a nightgown and get into my bed . . . my own downy-soft bed with lilac-scented sheets. Mrs. Avery returned to put away my things and then fluttered about straightening this and dusting that until Aunt f.a.n.n.y told her to let me get some rest.

"Luke and I will pick up some of the things ya'll need, like one of them fancy bed tables."

"And a walker. I want to start tomorrow morning."

"Right. Okay, darlin', welcome home where ya belong." She kissed me on the forehead and turned to leave.

"Aunt f.a.n.n.y."

"Yes."

"Thank you, Aunt f.a.n.n.y, for bringing me home." She shook her head, her eyes gleaming with tears, and quickly left my room.

I stared at my bedroom doorway half in expectation, half in vain hope. If only Mommy would come through that door once more. If only she and I could have one of our talks again. How I needed her, needed her wisdom and her comfort. Perhaps, if I closed my eyes and wished real hard, I would hear her footsteps in the hall, her soft, warm laugh and then see her come bursting through my doorway.

She would throw open my windows and raise the shades. "Rise and shine, be happy to be alive and well. Don't waste a moment, for every moment is precious, . Annie. Every moment is a gift, and you don't want to appear ungrateful, do you?"

"Oh, Mother, I'm still crippled. My legs are like old, water-soaked logs."

"Nonsense," I heard her say. "Life is what you make it. Now you tell those legs of yours they've had a long enough vacation. It's time to go back to work, understand." *

Was that the sound of my laughter? I felt her hands on my legs, moving over them, magically restoring their strength.

"All right," she said, rising from the bed. Then she was drifting away, becoming a shadow.

"Mommy? Mom . Mommy!" She was gone, and the sun was blocked by a large, dark cloud. My room was gray and dismal; there were shadows everywhere. "Mommy!"

"Annie?"

"What . . . who . . . Luke?"

He was standing at the side of my bed. "Are you all right? I heard you scream." "Oh Luke . . . please, hold me, hold me," I cried.

Quickly he sat on my bed and embraced me. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed while he stroked my hair gently and whispered, "It's all right. I'm here. It's all right."

Then I felt his lips on my forehead. His kisses of comfort brought a tingling to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s as I felt his warm breath on my cheeks. His heartbeat thumped against mine.

"I guess I had a bad dream," I said, a little embarra.s.sed now. "And when I woke up, I thought Mrs. Broadfield was standing there. She was so mean to me, Luke. She would force me into baths of scalding water. My skin would turn as red as a rose in full bloom and take hours to cool down."

He touched my neck and nodded.

"My poor Annie. How you suffered, and I wasn't there to help you. I hate myself for being so stupid."

"It wasn't your fault, Luke. You didn't know."

We were still holding onto one another, neither wanting to let go. Finally he lowered me back to my pillow. He sat there, looking down at me.

"Annie, I--"

I touched his lips and he kissed my fingers. It made my body sing and come to life.

"I'd better get back to bed," he said.

"Wait. Stay with me a little longer. Stay with me until I fall asleep again. Please."

"I will. Close your eyes."

I did. He brought my blanket back over my bosom and smoothed it out under my neck. I felt his fingers travel over my face and down the sides of my hair. "Luke--"

"Just sleep, Annie. I'm here."

Sleep finally came again, this time soothing and restful. And when I awoke with the sunlight peeping through my window, I found Luke asleep at my feet, curled up like a little boy. For a moment I forgot what had brought him to my bedside. As soon as I moved, his eyelids trembled and he opened the t and gazed up at me. The realization that he was in my bed struck him like a pail of ice water. He sat up quickly.

"Annie!" He looked about.

"Those are very cute pajamas, Luke." "What? Oh . must have fallen asleep. I'm sorry." He got up quickly.

"It's all right, Luke." I couldn't help smiling at him. The pants of his pajamas were a little baggy.

"I . . I'll be back after I get dressed," he said, and quickly left the room.

Shortly after I awoke in the morning, old Doc Willia, is arrived. He had been our family doctor for as long as I could remember. He was a short, stocky man with curly peach-colored hair that was mostly gray now. When he walked into my room, he greeted me with a wide smile that made me feel relaxed. I didn't feel I was being prodded and poked like some laboratory specimen, and most importantly, there was no nurse hovering over his shoulder and scowling at my every question.

"Your pressure's good and your heart sounds fine, Annie. Of course, I gotta get hold of the X rays and reports from Boston. I'll do that right away, but I don't see any reason for you not to be walking."

"I started to stand on my own and even took a step or two, Dr. Williams," I volunteered. "But they didn't want me to continue trying to walk."

"They didn't?" His eyes grew small and he pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he stared at me. "I can see your reflexes are sharp. You have feelings in your limbs. Most of your problem is emotional now. They had no reason to confine you to a wheelchair and prolong your invalid state."

"So there's no reason not to continue trying to walk?"

"Not that I can tell. Just don't try to do too much and get yourself exhausted. Your body will be the best judge of that. I'll return soon as I get the information from Boston. Welcome home, Annie. I'm sure you'll be better soon."

"Thank you, Doctor." He saw the tears in my eyes and his face became fatherly, soft, his smile widening and his eyes brightening with love and concern.

"You know how I felt about your parents and how I feel about you. You've got to get strong now; you're going to have many new responsibilities." He pinched my cheek gently, the way he always did, and left.

Soon after, Luke swept into the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, turning about to leave again. "I thought they had gotten you up and about for breakfast."

"Now, Luke Casteel, you come right back here, pull up a chair and tell me everything you've done since I've been at Farthy. I want to hear all about your college experiences . . . especially about girlfriends." I remembered what he had told me on the plane, how he had been worrying about me so much he had kept to himself most of the time, but I also remembered Drake's stories and I had to hear it from Luke.

"Girlfriends?" He stepped back in and came closer to my bed. "When you mentioned girlfriends before, I didn't understand."

"Didn't you meet anyone special right away?" I questioned.

"Hardly. Between orientation, gathering books and materials, organizing my dorm room . . . and trying to get to see you, I didn't have time for much socializing."

"But I thought . . Drake came to see you once, didn't he?" My heart was pounding now. Was Luke lying so I wouldn't feel bad? Should I force him to tell me the truth?"

"He came, for about ten minutes. I was in the dorm lounge reading," he said nonchalantly.

"By yourself?" I pursued. I was like a glutton for punishment, demanding to hear what I knew would break my heart.

"There were other students there, but we had hardly gotten to know one another. I told you, I was so concerned about you, I--"

"Drake thought you knew someone very well," I blurted out.

Luke looked t confused. "Really? I didn't think he thought anything. He babbled about your condition, the need for you to be kept quiet and undisturbed, and then rushed off on some business errand, promising to keep in touch. I called him a number of times, and each time, his secretary told me he was out or involved in a meeting. I called Tony's office and usually met with the same response. Finally I called Farthy itself and spoke with Mrs. Broadfield. And as you now know, she wasn't encouraging.

"But I was so happy when my roommate gave me your phone message. Then . . . when Tony turned me away, I nearly knocked him over and rushed in anyway. All that kept me from doing it was fear of causing more trouble for you. Thank G.o.d my mother got that call and was on her way. Now tell me, what was all that about between you and Tony when we left Farthy, that confusion he spoke about?"

"Oh, Luke, it was painful, horrible and disgusting. I felt so helpless, so victimized, and what has added pain to it now is the knowledge that most of it didn't have to happen, that what I thought was being done as therapy or as good medical treatment was part of the madness I was surrounded by. have nightmares forever!" I cried.

"No you won't, because when those bad memories return, be here to drive them away," he promised, his eyes small and determined. "But tell me some of it. It might help to talk about it."

"Oh, Luke, it was so embarra.s.sing, and now that I know some of the sick reasons for some of it, I feel dirtied and defiled." I shook myself to shake off the feelings and thoughts.

Luke took my hand into his. "Oh, Annie, what sort of things did he do?"

"He made me undress in front of him, and he insisted he help me with my bath."

Luke's face froze in astonishment.

"I couldn't resist him. There was no one to call to, no one to help me, and he seemed so . . . fatherly at the time. I let him wash my back, I let him . . . Oh, Luke, it's disgusting to think about it now." I covered my face with my hands. He slipped beside me on the bed and embraced me, holding me close to him and stroking my hair. Then he kissed my forehead and I lifted my face toward his.

"I'm so angry at myself for not coming to rescue you sooner."

"There was no way for you to know," I said. "But you were with me, helping me. During the darkest, most painful and lonely moments, I thought about you. Oh, Luke, I feel so secure with you, so safe again." Our faces were so close. We gazed deeply into each other's eyes. "I know it's not fair. I shouldn't make these demands on you and keep you from having a real girlfriend, but--"

He put his finger on my lips.

"Don't say anything else, Annie. I'm happy being . . . being with you."

He kissed my cheek. I closed my eyes, waiting, hoping, expecting his lips would press against mine, but he didn't do it. My body tingled in antic.i.p.ation. I felt the blush come into my neck. My breast was pressed against his arm.

"Oh, Luke, I can't help feeling this way about you," I whispered.

"Nor can I help the way I feel, Annie." He pressed me to him again and we embraced for a long moment. "Anyway," he said, pulling back, "the horror is over. Who was it who called my mother? One of the handymen?"

I hesitated, wondering if I could share Troy's secret life with Luke. We had shared so many secrets before. I knew he was-dependable and wouldn't do anything to hurt me.

"If I tell you, will you keep it a treasured secret and promise never to reveal it?"

"Of course. There are so many things between us kept under lock and key in my heart, one more won't matter."

"It was Troy Tatterton."

"Troy Tatterton? But I thought--"

"Troy Tatterton is not dead, Luke, but he wants people to think he is."

"Why?"

"He wants the anonymous life. He's had a very troubled, sad existence and he simply wants to be left alone."

"So he was the one who called my mother? Very lucky he did."

"I think it was more than luck. I think he decided he would look after me. He took me to see his cottage, and guess what, Luke? The replica," I said, pointing, "it's his cottage."

"Really?"

"While I was in his cottage he helped me stand and got me to take a few steps. I felt like a baby just learning how to walk, but that convinced me I should be trying harder right now, getting my legs to come back, to get used to holding my weight."

"Of course, We'll get your walker this morning and I'll help you as soon as you want."

"Help me into the wheelchair, please."

He looked about, helpless for a moment.