Casteel - Gates Of Paradise Part 39

"And so will I, Luke." Neither of us spoke for a moment. My throat closed up so tightly anyway, I wasn't sure I would be able to get any more words out. Finally, after a deep sigh, I looked at the painting of him I had done and regained my strength. "Oh, Luke, I painted a picture of you standing in the gazebo."

"Really? Can I have it to hang in my dormitory room?"

I wanted it for myself, but I thought that was too selfish a thing to say.

"Of course."

"I'll see it when I come to pick you up. Don't worry about anything. I'll handle all the travel arrangements."

"Thank you, Luke."

"Annie, it's so hard to deny what I feel for you." "I know. It's been the same for me."

"I'll see you soon." Both of us had to end the conversation for the same reason. Each word was like a sharp, heavy sword, stinging as it struck us, right through to our hearts.

Later in the afternoon Drake called. He was surprised I already knew about Tony's death, and even more surprised when I told him I would be at the funeral. He didn't even ask me how I had found out, so I didn't mention Troy at all. He put me off with his cold businessman's tone of voice.

"Well, if you thought you wanted to come, you should have called me. But it's not too late. I'll make arrangements for you."

"It's all being done. Luke's coming along, too." "I should have known."

"Please, Drake. For Tony's sake, for his memory, let's keep peace," I pleaded.

"You're right. Of course, I'll act dignified. Everyone who's anyone in the business world will be there, I a.s.sure you."

"I didn't mean--"

"Anyway, you can't imagine what's left to do now. I haven't got the time to waste on Luke. It's fortunate I began here before all this happened. I might as well have been Tony's son, the way people are turning to me. I was going to surprise you with the news, but I might as well tell you now. Before he died, Tony gave me a large percentage of the stock in his corporation." He paused, and then dryly added when I didn't congratulate him quickly enough, "I thought you would be happy to know."

"I know it's what you want, Drake. I know you're happy."

He was disappointed with my thoughtful and controlled reaction.

"Yes. Well, I'll see you at the funeral."

"Yes, Drake." He seemed more and more a stranger to me.

Luke was at the house very early the morning of Tony's funeral to take me to the airport. I was dressed and ready when he came to my room. I stood without the cane. For a long moment we stared at each other. Finally, he shifted his eyes to the painting I had done of him.

"Wow, that is really good."

"I was hoping you would like it."

"Like it? I love it. You're a wonderful artist, Annie. People will pay thousands for your paintings, I'm sure. I know I will."

We stared at each other again. It seemed that whenever one of us finished a sentence, there was sure to be a long pause during which our eyes did the talking. Right now mine were telling him how much I loved and needed him and how much I felt cheated by destiny. His said the same.

I thought Aunt f.a.n.n.y would relent and join us, but she had as much of that Casteel stubbornness in her as she said Drake and Luke had. She broke our tormenting silences by coming to the doorway of my bedroom, her hands on her hips, her head thrown back in her characteristic manner.

"Can't believe ya traveled down here ta take her ta that place, Luke. Ya shouldn't have encouraged it."

"I would have gone with or without him, Aunt f.a.n.n.y."

"Yer motha ran away from that place and that man, Annie."

"I know." I gazed at one of the pictures of her on my vanity table. It was one of my favorites because in it she was gazing off toward the w.i.l.l.i.e.s, one of her few good memories of that life brightening her cornflower-blue eyes. "But she had a way of seeing the rainbows after the rain. I think she would have gone to Tony's funeral, too, Aunt f.a.n.n.y." I turned back to her, my gaze as sharp and as determined as Mommy's could be. Aunt f.a.n.n.y saw that.

"I've got to go for both of us."

TWENTY-FOUR.

My Prince, at Last.

As we started for the airport, I couldn't help imagining what it would have been like for us to be going to a plane that would take us on our honeymoon. What if we defied Fate and defied everyone and ran off to get married? This would have been our most romantic and loving journey. Airline attendants and other pa.s.sengers would have looked at us snuggled beside each other and smiled to themselves, thinking how wonderful young love could be, how it opened the world and made life dazzling, exciting, hopeful, and warm.

When I looked into Luke's face now as he helped me into the car taking us to the airport, I couldn't help but think we did belong together. How tragic and quick life could be, I thought. Look at what had happened to my parents; look at the agony Tony had lived through. Why shouldn't we choose happiness?

During the ride to the airport in Virginia and the Plight itself, I debated whether or not I should tell Luke about the letter I had found in the toy cottage.

Luke had been very polite, almost formal during the journey so far. I knew he was acting this way in order to build a wall between his feelings and me, but it was a torment for both of us. We quickly ran out of small talk, and every time his eyes met mine, our hearts thumped so hard both our faces became crimson. The pa.s.sion within us wouldn't be denied. It would be easier to harness the ocean tide or smother the lightning that streaked across the summer sky.

Because what happened between Troy and Mommy seemed so similar to what was happening between Luke and me, I thought he had a right to know and to understand what they had suffered. Surely it would help him appreciate why Mommy was so fearful about our relationship.

I began by reminding him of the toy cottage, and then I described my discovery. When I recited some of Troy's words, tears appeared in the corners of his dark sapphire eyes.

"I can under-Stand his loneliness and why he wanted to drop out of the world and live by himself on the other side of the maze," Luke said. "I feel the same way."

"No, Luke. You can't deny your life the way he has denied his. You must go on to become a doctor like you dreamed you would and find someone you can love cleanly, wholely, without guilt of any kind. You deserve it."

"And you?"

"I'll do the same. . . ."

"You're not a good liar, Annie. Your blue eyes betray you."

"Well, I'm going to try," I insisted.

He smiled that smile of Casteel arrogance, Drake's smile, too.

"Luke Toby Casteel, you don't know everything."

After my reprimand, his face became soft, sad, like a little boy's face.

"I know what I feel in my heart and what you feel in yours, and I know what that means." "I'm going to try anyway, and so should you," I repeated in a smaller voice. I turned away from him so he wouldn't see my tears. Luke dozed on and off for the remainder of the trip and I stared out the window at the tiny houses and highways below, once again wishing we lived in a Tatterton toy world where fantasies could come true.

At the airport in Boston we rented a car and began the drive to Farthy. I couldn't help but remember Tony's excitement during my first journey to Farthy after I had been released from the hospital. He was so happy and eager to help me. How could I have ever antic.i.p.ated what was soon to pa.s.s? Perhaps if Mommy had had a chance to tell me more about her past, I would have avoided the hardship and turmoil. By the time we arrived at Farthy, the throng of mourners were gathered at the front of the house.

Besides Miles and Curtis and Rye Whiskey, there were dozens of Tony's business a.s.sociates, as well as many people who worked for Tatterton Toys. Most were fol nially dressed in black and gathered in small cliques, greeting one another, shaking hands, kissing cheeks and talking softly.

It was a warm, but overcast fall .day, a perfect funeral day, I thought. Everything looked grayer than ever, and the bleakness emphasized how rundown Farthinggale Manor was. I couldn't help but remember the proud way Tony had described it when we had first driven out here . . his ancestral home, improved and expanded by every succeeding Tatterton heir.

How ironic it was that he had an heir who would truly follow in his footsteps but who had no relationship to him at all, for Drake was Luke Casteel's son, the man from whom Tony had bought his own daughter. And now, in every sense of the word, he had bought Drake, bought himself an heir.

And Drake had indeed taken charge. He stood up front by the hea.r.s.e, dressed in an ebony-black tuxedo. His face was as somber and dark as an undertaker's. The people he hired to conduct the funeral were quietly checking with him for instructions. There were people directing cars and handing out small prayer and hymn cards.

Luke pulled his car into line and I gazed up at the main house again, the mystery and excitement of the big, old gray-stone building gone, replaced with unpleasant memories. The window of what had been my room was dark. All the curtains had been drawn, the panes becoming mirrors reflecting the dismal, cloudy sky.

The servants came to greet me first. Curtis looked shattered, his blue lips trembling; Miles looked stunned, his cheeks cold, his eyes distant. Even Rye looked very old to me. Bereavement had aged him quickly; he and Tony Tatterton had been together for so many years.

Drake approached us soon after, ignoring Luke and coming directly to my side of the car.

"How are you, Annie?"

"I'm fine, Drake." I was determined to be my mother's daughter and keep my dignity and strength. "It will all begin soon." He leaned closer to me.

"Do you know who is here? Who is alive after all?" "Yes."

He recoiled with surprise.

"You do?"

"If you would have let me talk to you calmly instead of accusing me of being ungrateful and accusing Luke of terrible things, I would have been able to tell you I had met him here and he was the one who called Aunt f.a.n.n.y and told her to come to get me."

"But . . why?"

"Because he saw what was happening, Drake.

He knew some of the things you refused to see," I said, not attempting to hide my anger.

Drake glanced at Luke and then turned to me again.

"Well . . I . . . did what I thought was best for you, Annie. I'm sorry," he said remorsefully. "Let's put it behind us, Drake, and do what we've come here to do," I said firmly.

"Yes. Of course." One of the undertakers signaled him. "I'll talk to you later."

He went back to the hea.r.s.e. I looked everywhere for Troy but I didn't see him. Where was he?

My question was answered after the line of cars pulled away from the house and wound its way to the family cemetery. He was already there, saying his private good-bye. He came directly to our car as soon as we arrived. His dark, melancholy eyes brightened when he saw me.

Now that he was dressed in a black suit and tie, was able to see the resemblances between him and Tony more clearly. However, where Tony's eyes had been bright and excited by his confusion and sadness, Troy's were calm.

"h.e.l.lo, Annie. Was the trip all right?" "Yes, Troy. Troy, this is Luke."

"Oh yes." They shook hands. I saw from the way they looked into each other's eyes that they liked each other instantly, and that warmed my heart. When opened my door, they both rushed to help me, but Luke got there first. Troy stepped back and watched him help me out of the car.

"Just a cane now. That's good," Troy said when Luke handed it to me. "How much of a difference tender loving care can make."

Luke, Troy, and I moved to the front of the crowd. I saw how Troy's eyes followed Luke's hand as it grasped mine. Troy watched us in a most peculiar way, his eyes growing smaller, his face darkening. He nodded gently to himself and then turned to hear the clergyman's words.

Drake delivered a short eulogy afterward, describing Tony as a pioneer businessman whose imagination tapped new markets and created an entirely new industry. I was impressed with how experienced and knowledgeable he appeared. He looked years and years older, and I thought Tony had been right about him--he was executive material. The clergyman then asked everyone to sing the hymn written on the cards we were all given. During the hymn my eyes shifted from Tony's monument to my parents' monument. Graveyards have a way of making all life's struggles seem simple and meaningless, I thought. All family squabbles die and are buried here, too: Jillian's madness, Tony's l.u.s.ts and confused pa.s.sions, my grandmother Leigh's flight from who she was, my mother's frustrated and lost love . . . all of it was put to rest. Only those of us who remained had to struggle still.

For a long moment Troy and I looked at each other, and I think he knew I understood why he would want to ride into the ocean that fateful day. He looked from me to Luke and back to me. As soon as the hymn ended and the clergyman said his final words, Troy turned to us.

"Won't the two of you come to my cottage for a little something to eat and drink before you start back?"

"I'd like that," Luke replied. I simply nodded. I looked for Drake, but he was busy greeting business ssociates, shaking hands and discussing actions to be taken in the near future. I didn't think he even noticed we had left.

I had the strangest feeling when we drove up to the cottage, approaching it on a road off the rear of the cemetery. It was as if we had all become miniaturized and we were about to enter the toy cottage, become citizens of a toy world, a world of magic and makebelieve, the world Luke and I had lived in for so much of our lives. Troy, the master creator of the Tatterton Toy world was our magician. He would touch us with his magic wand and make the ugly and the sad world go away.

Luke loved the cottage and was fascinated with all of Troy's new creations, especially the medieval vil- lage. Troy prepared sandwiches and drinks for us, and he and Luke talked about college, Boston, and some of the things he was creating I sat back and listened, happy the two of them were getting along so well Finally, Troy sat back, a gentle smile on his face as he looked from me to Luke.

"Tell me what your plans are now."

"Plans? Luke's back in college. He'll go on to be a doctor. I supposeIll travel through Europe as my parents originally planned for me to do, so I can study the Great Masters, and then attend college myself to develop my art talent. We'll go our separate ways and do what we can to make our lives meaning ful." "I see." He looked away, the smile lifting off his face and disappearing like smoke. When he looked back at us, his face was full of sorrow and pain again.

"I must confess that I have brought you here with ulterior motives in mind. Believe me when I tell you I have agonized for days over these things. The greater temptation is to bury the past alongside Tony and Heaven and Logan, and live out my days as I am now. . . ghostlike, apart from the real world, involved only in my make-believe, my toys. "How safe and secure the make-believe world is. But I have the feeling that is something you two already know, for you have found it to be a safe haven for your true feelings." He looked at us knowingly, and I wondered how someone who had seen and spoken with me only a short time could understand me so well and perceive my secret anguish so quickly. He turned to his tiny creations.

"I can imagine a whole life for myself, populate it with the kinds of people I like and design events to fit what I want to happen. It's my particular madness, suppose; not as debilitating as Tony's madness was, but nevertheless, a form of escape.

"But after seeing you two, I realize I can't do it; I can't forgetaand bury myself here. Even though it uncovers terrible emotional wounds and forces me to face sad reality, I must; for I must not let what happened to Heaven and me happen to you and Luke."

"Troy, you don't have to do this to yourself." I looked at Luke. "We ready know."

"Know?"

"I was looking closely at the toy cottage you sent my mother shortly after my birth. It was you who sent it, wasn't it?" He nodded. "And I happened to peer closely into the door at the rear of the kitchen . the same door that you have in there," I added, pointing.

"And I found the letter you wrote to my mother the day Jillian died and you decided to leave." Instead of the surprise and perhaps the embarra.s.sment I expected, Troy merely nodded, a strange, small smile forming at the corners of his mouth, his eyes suddenly taking on a faraway look. "She kept that, did she? How like her to do that, and how like her to hide it away in the cottage by the stairway. Oh, Heaven . . my darling Heaven." He turned back to me, his gaze sharply focused on me now. "So you found out that your mother and I were lovers, secret lovers."

He stood up, went to one of the front windows, and gazed out so long, I thought he was not going to say another word. Luke reached for my hand and we waited patiently. Suddenly all the clocks struck the hour and a light blue music-box clock that was shaped like the cottage opened its front door and the tiny family within emerged and then retreated to the sweet, haunting melody I had come to know so well. "Troy . . ."

"I'm all right," he said, and returned to his seat.

"Some of what I am about to tell you, your mother might have told you herself.

"Years ago, when she lived the hard life in the w.i.l.l.i.e.s, she met your father and they became young lovers, pledging their hearts to one another. If your mother had remained in the w.i.l.l.i.e.s, she might very well have married your father and lived a quiet, happy life in Winnerrow, but Fate would not have it so. "After Luke Casteel broke up his family by selling off his children, your mother lived with a very selfish, jealous woman, Kitty Dennison, and her husband Cal. It was a hard life for her because Kitty became jealous of your mother, and Cal . . .

eventually took advantage of her. It's not hard to understand how such a thing could happen. Your mother was young and desperately searching for someone to love and cherish her. Cal, an older man, a father figure, sensed that.

"For a while that soured Logan, and even after Kitty's death, when your mother came to Farthy to live while he was going to college in Boston, he rejected her. She led a lonely life here. I was in the inidst of a very bad time myself, convinced I would not live long. I was bitter and withdrawn. Your mother and I met, and for a time she filled my life with hope and happiness. We talked about marriage and made wonderful plans.