Casteel 05 Web of Dreams Page 10

  "I submerged myself even deeper in my work just so I wouldn't dwell on matters at home all the time. In a way it has been something of a blessing to have all these financial and business crises occurring. It's kept my mind of my marital problems." He pressed a smile back on his face, but it was such a sad, soft, and weak smile, the kind that can't last more than a moment or two. For his sake I closed off my own emotions, clamped down hard on them just so I could speak.

  "Is Momma still in Mexico?"

  "No, she's back in Boston, at home. She sent me the telegram from Boston. But," he said after a deep breath, "I did promise her that I would go along with whatever she had decided. There's no point in trying to force someone to stay with you, if she doesn't want to anymore."

  "But why doesn't she?" I demanded. "How can she want to leave you after all these years?"

  What I really wanted to know was how could a love that had begun so magnificently, so romantically, die? How could two people be so sure of each other at one point and then so unsure of one another? Was this what Daddy really meant when he told me love blinds you?

  But then, how can anyone know he or she is really, truly in love? If feelings betrayed you and words were like thin bubbles that burst in the memory and disappeared, what could anyone do to be sure? You promise someone you will be with him and he promises he will be with you until death do you part, and then . . . something else parts you. What is the value of a promise, even a promise that comes with a kiss?

  "Your mother is still a very young woman. She thinks she still has a chance for a happier life, and I won't stand in her way of achieving that. Ironically, I love her too much to do that," he said. "I know that doesn't make sense to you right now, none of this does; but later in your life, you might think about what I said and you might understand why I say I love her too much to stop her from leaving me."

  "But Daddy, what will become of us?" I was frantic now, and I was surprised that my voice hadn't come out in a shriek. What I really meant was "What will become of me?" He understood.

  "You will stay with your mother. The two of you will live in our house for as long as your mother wants to." He paused, sighed, then went on, "I have much to occupy myself with these days. In fact, after a very short shore leave, I'm taking another cruise, an exploratory one to a place called the Canary Islands. I've got to search for new and exotic places to attract my clientele and keep myself competitive.

  "I guess your mother is right about one thing, Leigh--I am devoted to my business. I can't sit by and just let it die," he confessed.

  "I want to go with you, Daddy," I choked out through my sobs.

  "Now, now, sweetheart. That would be impossible and wrong. You have your school and your friends and you should be with your mother in your own home where you will be comfortable. There's nothing to worry about financially, although the way your mother spends money, there's never enough. he added dryly.

  There were no tears in Daddy's eyes. If he had cried over this, he had done it privately and he had put it aside. Even now he was so in control over his emotions, when I never was. I could see that his love affair with Momma was already dead and gone, buried in a cemetery filled with once happy moments, happy things. He was already thinking of other things. The funeral was over.

  His tired face was so filled with resignation that one look at him snuffed out the small candle of hope I tried to keep bright and alive in my heart. It shocked me to learn that the love between Momma and Daddy had been dying in small, slow ways for a long time. But now that he told me this, I thought back and remembered things Momma had said about him and the way she had said them. When I recalled her words now, I recalled them in their true color, and I heard the unhappiness and the warnings I had refused to listen to before.

  But I could ignore them no longer.

  "Daddy, won't I ever see you again?" pleaded. I had to wet my lips which had gone dry. My hands betrayed me and began to shake so I had to clasp them together and press them down in my lap.

  "Oh sure you will. Sure, sure. This trip will only be about a month and then I'll come by."

  "Come by"? The words sounded so silly corning from my father. He would "come by"? To his own home? Like a visitor, a stranger, he would ring the doorbell and be greeted by a butler and then be announced?

  "And call you and write you whenever I can," he added. He reached out to take my hand. "You're growing very quickly now, Leigh. You are a young woman and have a young woman's concerns. You need your mother more than ever, need her advice and companionship. You'll be growing more interested in boys and they'll be growing more interested in you.

  "Perhaps your mother's right about one thing--I shouldn't be filling your head with business things and mechanical things at this point."

  "Oh no, Daddy, 1 never minded that. I enjoyed it," protested fervently.

  "I know." He patted my hand. I yearned to have him hold me so tight I couldn't breathe, to warm my lips with his kisses and to make me feel that

  everything would be okay.

  "Oh Daddy, I don't want you to go. I don't want you to just come by," I choked. The tears were streaming freely down my face now. No matter how I tried, I couldn't hold back the sobs. My shoulders shook. Finally Daddy embraced me and held me tighter than he had ever held me and he kissed my hair and stroked me.

  "There, there, my darling princess. It will be all right. You'll see. Once we're over the hump, it will be all right." He held me and wiped away my tears. "You're the owner's daughter. You want to put on a good face and go upstairs to say goodbye to people alongside me. Will you do that for me?"

  "Of course I will, Daddy." I swallowed my cries, but I started to hiccup. Daddy laughed.

  "I hold my breath," I said. "That usually works."

  "That's the spirit." He stood up. "Take your time and then come up and join me for breakfast. After that, we'll go to the bridge and watch Captain Willshaw bring the ship into the harbor. Okay? And no matter what, Princess, always remember I love you. Promise?"

  "I promise, Daddy, and I'll always love you."

  "That's the spirit, the spirit of the sea. I'll wait for you upstairs." After he closed the door, I sat there staring at it.

  My heart was an aching ruin, but I was too emotionally exhausted to cry anymore, even though a part of me wanted to bawl and bawl until my body was dried out. Then I felt angry, furious at Momma for doing this. How selfish she was. Now I saw how selfish she'd always been. How could she care only about herself like this? How could she do this to Daddy and to me? Who cares how young she was or how young she looked? She wouldn't be young forever and she would never find anyone who loved her as much as Daddy had, and still did!

  Oh, it was so ungrateful of her to turn her back on him now that the years had passed. He had rescued her from a horrible life. She'd told me all that herself, and now, she was casting him aside, just because she wanted to have more fun. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe I could talk Momma into changing her mind, I thought. No one even has to know she went to Mexico to get that horrible divorce. She could go back and change it again. Once she saw she had ruined my life,. .

  My heart sunk like a rock in a pond because I knew Momma obviously had to have considered all this before and it hadn't made her stop. She had left me in Jamaica, hadn't she? This was too important to her. She wouldn't listen to anything I had to say, I thought, and no amount of crying, not even gallons and gallons of tears, would convince her she was wrong.

  Daddy had accepted it; there was no hope left in him, I concluded. I got up slowly and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked horrible, my face streaked, my eyes bloodshot. I still had the hiccups, too. It kept happening so fast and so hard, it actually began to hurt. I drank a glass of water and then held my breath, but it didn't go away until I had washed my face again and was ready to go up to the dining room to join Daddy. I had no appetite, but I would do what he asked of me.

  After breakfast Daddy and I went to the bridge just as he had promised and we st
ood beside Captain Willshaw watching him and the officers oversee the docking of The Jillian. How sad it must be for Daddy, I thought, to think of the ship's name now. I remembered the day he had taken Momma and me for a ride without telling us the reason. He had turned down to the dock pretending he had a short errand to run, and suddenly there it was before us . . . the new ocean liner being readied for christening. Both Momma and I were excited, but it wasn't until Daddy pulled right alongside the ship that we understood why he was so insistent we take this ride. There were the words brightly painted over the sides of the new liner: The Jillian.

  How Momma had squealed with delight and covered Daddy's face with kisses. But that seemed so long ago, ages ago.

  Now as we drew closer and closer to the dock, I could see the crowd of people that had gathered to greet the returning voyagers. There were taxi cabs lined up alongside limousines and private vehicles. Down below on the decks, passengers were waving and shouting at people who were waving hats and handkerchiefs, taking pictures and calling to them. I looked for Momma, but I didn't see her anywhere. Finally, I saw one of our cars, but there was just Paul Roberts, a driver we used frequently, standing beside the car, waiting.

  "Isn't Momma coming for me, paddy?"

  "I had an idea she might just send Paul with the car. She's not anxious to set eyes on me."

  "But what about me! She should be here like everyone else's relatives."

  "She's just avoiding a scene," Daddy said He was defending her even now, I thought. If she only knew how much he really loved her. I was determined to tell her.

  "You're not coming home at all now, Daddy?" I asked quietly. I knew he was depending on me not to cry and not to give away our personal problems in front of the passengers and crew members.

  "No. I have some work to do yet. You just go on ahead. I'll come by later."

  There was that expression again: "come by."

  I nodded quickly. When the ship was finally docked and people were permitted to disembark, I turned to Daddy. He just closed his eyes and opened them and then nodded.

  "Go on," he said softly. "I'll be all right."

  "Daddy." My throat closed up. He nodded again toward the door. I saw that he was doing all he could to keep himself together, too. He kissed me quickly on the cheek. I started to reach for him, but he pulled back and then I charged out the door and down to the deck.

  It was a partly cloudy morning, but to me it was dismal and gray. The sea breeze felt like a snowman's breath against my cheeks, making the warm tears cold instantly. I closed my coat around-Myself and started for the gangplank when I felt someone pull my arm.

  It was Clara Spenser and her sister Melanie. Their parents were right behind them and they were all so close to each other, their mother resting her hand on Clara's shoulder and their father resting his hand on Melanie's. It was like a family portrait with a caption underneath that read, THE HAPPY FAMILY.

  "Goodbye, Leigh," Clara said. "We'll write to you."

  "Bye. I'll write back," I called ad started away. I wanted to run away from them.

  "Leigh!" Clara yelled. "It was fun, but isn't it wonderful to be home again?"

  I just waved and hurried on to the car as fast as I could. My bags had already been loaded.

  "Is my mother all right?" I asked. Perhaps she was so upset over what she had done, she was sick in bed at home, I thought, hopefully.

  "Oh, yes. She called me this morning and sounded fine. You were lucky to be away; it's been so cold here this past week. Did you have a nice time?" he asked when I didn't reply.

  "Yes," I said and turned to look back as we drove off. I could see Daddy on the bridge talking with Captain Willshaw, but he stopped in the middle of his conversation and looked my way. I waved from the window. He lifted his hand slowly and held it up like a flag of surrender and defeat.

  Clarence came out to greet me and fetch my luggage as soon as we drove up, but Momma was nowhere to be seen. I rushed into the house and called for her, demanded her.

  "MOMMA! MOMMA! WHERE ARE YOU?"

  Clarence came up behind me with my bags.

  "Mrs. VanVoreen went for a ride to the seashore this morning," he said. "She has not yet returned."

  "What? The seashore? But . . . didn't she know I would be back this morning?" I shot out. Clarence looked overwhelmed by the ferocity with which I demanded answers to my questions.

  "I'll just bring your luggage to your room, Miss Leigh." He started up the staircase. Confused, I just stood there for a few moments. My gaze fell on the doorway to Daddy's office. He won't be using it anymore, I thought, my throat aching. What would Momma do now--just close it up? I knew how much she hated that room the way it was.

  But for me it suddenly became as precious as a church. I stepped into it and gazed at Daddy's things. I inhaled the scents--the aroma of his tobacco still lingered, as did the smell of the driftwood and the old furniture and carpet. Even though much of it was worn and faded, it was beautiful to me because it was Daddy.

  In my mind I could see him crouched over his desk, the thin column of smoke rising from the bowl of his carved pipe, the first pipe his father had given him. On the front right corner of his desk was a model of The Jillian. He had been so proud of it, so proud of naming it after Momma. The rest of his desk looked as cluttered and as disorganized as ever, but now the sight of it heartened me, because it meant he would have to come back soon to get his important papers.

  I walked out slowly and slowly went up the stairs. Clarence was coming down. He seemed very anxious to get away from me.

  "Everything's in your room, Miss Leigh."

  "Thank you, Clarence. Oh Clarence," I called after he had gone past me.

  "Yes?"

  "Didn't my mother leave any word as to when she would return?"

  "Thank you, Clarence." I continued upstairs and went into my room.

  How different my world looked to roe now. I had been so anxious to hurry home, to get back to my own, precious room and sleep in my own bed, cuddling the stuffed animals given to me over the years. I had looked forward to calling my friends and finding out all the news I had missed while I was on the cruise. I had wanted to tell them about Fulton and Raymond; and the shows and the dances and being kissed by one boy and exchanging addresses with both. but none of that mattered now; none of that was important anymore.

  I felt like someone who had been hypnotized. Mechanically, I unpacked, sifting through my clothing and separating those things that had to be cleaned and washed from those that didn't. Then I sat on ray bed like one in a daze. Finally, out of curiosity and boredom, I got up and went into Momma's suite.

  She had still not returned. There was nothing different about her bedroom. Her long vanity table was still cluttered with her creams and makeup, her brushes and combs.

  And she hadn't put away her and Daddy's wedding picture! The two of them were still there, encased in that solid gold frame, both looking young and happy, Momma so beautiful, Daddy so handsome and distinguished.

  The word "divorce" had such a mystical ring to it for me.

  I had half imagined that now that Momma had gotten a divorce from Daddy, the house itself had undergone some enchantment as if divorce put us all in the grip of some sorceress. The house would be different; the servants would be different; Momma and Daddy would certainly be different; and I . . . I was still afraid of how I would change.

  I started out of Momma's suite, but stopped in the sitting room when something on Momma's desk caught my eye. It looked like a pile of books containing samples from a printing company. We had nothing to celebrate soon, no birthdays, and certainly, no anniversaries now. What was Momma doing: planning to announce her divorce? I approached the desk and opened the first book of samples.

  At first it made no sense at all, but my heart understood faster than my mind, for it began to thump so hard, it took my breath away. The pounding sounded like thunder in my mind. I choked back my tears, tears that had been threatening to burst fort
h from the moment I entered my house, and I continued to thumb through the books. They were all the same.

  They were all samples of wedding invitations!

  six A NEW BEST FRIEND

  . Momma didn't come home for hours. I went up to my room and waited and waited until I heard her entering the house. Her laughter preceded her footsteps on the stairway. I couldn't imagine how or why she would be in such a jolly mood. The world was crumpling around us and her voice rang out with a musical cadence as if it were Christmas morning or the morning of her birthday. I stepped out of my room just as she reached the top of the stairway.

  She looked just as beautiful as ever, if anything her beauty had flourished since she had left Daddy and me. She seemed invigorated, full of life and energy, her eyes sparkling, her soft, golden hair glistening under the white fur cap. She was wearing her white mink coat, the one Daddy had imported from Russia. Her cheeks were rosy, having been caressed by the crisp November air. I didn't realize until I saw her how much I had wanted to see her sickly and pale, ravaged by the decision she had made.

  Her burst of exuberance and her brightness overwhelmed me. I could just stand and stare. But Momma's face wasn't drawn, her eyes weren't bloodshot, she instead looked like someone who had been liberated from a dark and dismal castle dungeon, unchained and free to be young and lovely and alive once more. She misunderstood my look of surprise and sadness.

  "Oh Leigh, I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you arrived, but you'd never believe the traffic." She smiled as if she expected me to forget everything horrible instantly.

  "Why didn't you come down to the dock? Where were you?"

  "Where was I? I was at Farthy," she sang and

  started for her suite. "You know how undependable

  those dockings can be . . . half hour late, an hour late.

  Something's always going wrong. I could just

  envision myself stuck in that stuffy automobile,

  waiting, waiting, waiting." She turned back to flash a