Twisted Roots Read online

  Of course. I believed that was because I was still too young and still not smart enough to see. I had to accept an faith that she was right-- one should never fall in love with a man like my father. A girl had to be careful, smarter, more aware, and know when her own body was lusting and blinding her.

  But how do you ever trust your heart? I wondered. When do you know it's right? When do you know that it's not just lust? If someone as brilliant as my mother could have been fooled, what hope did I have?

  Maybe that was why she and Miguel were so concerned about my seeing someone. Suddenly, and maybe far the first time ever, I realized how hard it was to be a parent. It was like holding on to the string of a kite that was caught up in the wind. If you pulled too hard and too fast, it would snap and be gone forever, and if you let out more string and gave it more room, the wind might still have its way with it so that when it returned to earth, it was not what it had been.

  I started out to see Claude. and Mommy seized my arm. She smiled.

  "Don't blame me for wanting you to be my little girl forever. Hannah. I know it's wrong and it can't be, but don't hate me for it."

  "I can't hate you. Mommy," I said.

  She let go of my hand.

  I felt like the kite in the wind and continued on.

  .

  It was like pulling a curtain of fury away from my eyes, a sheer curtain of red. The more I gazed through the window at little Claude, the more the curtain moved to the sideline. Today he looked more like a little person, his mouth and chin showing resemblances to Miguel. His tiny body twitched. Do infants dream yet? I wondered. How could they? Maybe he was hearing the cries of the other infants and he hated it. Now I wanted him to come home and came home immediately. He needed protection. He should have his own place. I could see myself hurrying home to be with him, to give him his bottle when he was finally on formula, to change his diaper, and to hold him and keep him from crying and being afraid. He made me recall my best childhood dolls. Here he was, a living, breathing toy. Wouldn't it be fun to see him recognize me, to see him looking forward to me?

  "Amazing how much he has grown in twentyfour hours, isn't it?" Miguel said, coming up beside me after I had been there a while.

  "Yes."

  "I think he's going to look more like your mother, despite my inky hair."

  "I don't."

  "Check these out." he said, drawing some pictures from the inside packet of his jacket.

  They were pictures taken in Mommy's room, pictures of her holding little Claude. of Miguel holding him, and then the two of them standing side by side with little Claude in Mommy's arms.

  "Do we look like doting parents already?"

  "Yes," I said, and he laughed.

  "I'll get a picture of you holding him before we take him home, too," he promised. "Ready to go home?"

  "Yes."

  "I told your mother I'd follow you. You know her-- Nervous Nellie. Despite her brilliance, she still harbors this silly superstition about family curses and such. It's probably why she comes off sounding a little too protective." he added.

  "Why is that. Miguel? What family curse?"

  In our home it was always a forbidden topic, but somehow, I felt the lid had been opened on our personal Pandora's box, and like it or not, the past with all its dark days and troubled moments was let loose.

  "Well, you know how difficult it was for her to be brought up in a home with a stepmother who despised her and a father who felt he had to restrain his love.

  "And then, after they were gone and she learned the truth about her birth, she confronted your grandmother Grace and met your uncle Linden for the first time. He was already quite an emotionally wounded young man. To add insult to injury, he tried to commit suicide, and your mother blamed herself."

  "I knew all that. but I never understood why Mommy blamed herself."

  "She kept their relationship secret when she first arrived. She was afraid of the truth. To her it was like a big, blinding light in everyone's eyes. It had to be done slowly, carefully, and Linden wasn't stoma enough emotionally for all that.

  "Then there was the trouble with your father and the Eatons and everything just piled up an her fragile shoulders. When your uncle Linden got hurt, your grandmother Grace was convinced there was some sort of perennial dark cloud over their heads and nothing could sweep it completely away."

  "Do you think it could be true?"

  "Of course not." he replied quickly. "And your mother doesn't really believe it in her heart, either, but it's like anything else that haunts a family's past. It takes time to see just how untrue and foolish it is.

  "You are your own person. You will make the choices that determine your fate, and not some skeleton in some closet," Miguel assured me.

  I glanced at little Claude.

  I hoped Miguel was right, of course, now for little Claude as well as me.

  After we returned home. I went to my room and found a message on my answering machine. It was from Heyden.

  "Just want you to know I haven't murdered my sister. I have her shut up in a trunk and I'm burying it in the backyard, but other than that, things are fine. Thanks for being here with me. I know I wouldn't be as calm and collected if you hadn't been. I'm looking forward to our official date." he concluded. I could almost hear the laughter behind his voice as he pronounced the word official.

  There was a second message. It was from Daddy. I had completely forgotten what he had said when I called him with my cell phone after I had visited Uncle Linden. Our conversation had been so short and he had been so flippant. I hadn't paid much attention to it.

  "Hannah. I will be home for Friday night dinner. I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

  Oh, no, I thought. It was not that often that Daddy invited me to dinner at his home. Most of the time, he picked me up with Adrian and Cade in the car and we all went to a restaurant, sometimes with Danielle coming along as well, but not always.

  Daddy's home wasn't as big as Aunt Whitney and Uncle Hans's estate, an estate I had seen only in pictures and had passed by and gazed at from our car. but Daddy's home was one of the prime North Lake Way estate properties.

  Adrian and Cade never stopped reminding me that they lived in a more desirable location and an even bigger house than I did. It had a very wide and long entry hall with Italian marble flooring, a dining room about one and a half times larger than ours, also with marble floors. Daddy's house had a more elaborate library, too, with black granite floors and a floor-to-ceiling bay window that provided a magnificent view of his wonderful gardens and tennis court. The pool had been recently redone with an expansive travertine terrace, and he had renovated his cabana, creating a living room with a travertine flooring and sliding doors that opened to the pool. There was a new steam sauna installed as well. The cabana had a guest bedroom. Adrian and Cade had practically taken to living there, considering it their private club. I knew they had friends over frequently, and from what they told me, their parties weren't the sort Mommy would like to see me attending.

  Daddy was always into boating and now had his own yacht at his own dock. Adrian and Cade had been given Jet Skis for their birthdays last year. They bragged to me how popular they had become at their school, claiming an invitation to their house on the weekend was a "prize."

  I felt terribly pulled in two directions. Should I call Heyden and tell him I had to go to my father's for dinner and try to get him to consider the following night? On top of what I had seen happen at his house, he might not believe me. I hadn't known him very long, but I hated the idea of disappointing him or giving him the impression that I was trying to find an excuse to get out of the date. Actually. I would rather be with Heyden. I thought.

  On the other hand, it was so rare that Daddy wanted me at his home. I knew that it was usually when he was sure his parents weren't going to be there, or his sister. I didn't see him all that much these days.

  I really didn't know what I was going to do when I called. To my sur
prise his butler didn't answer. Adrian did. It was difficult to decide who enjoyed tormenting me more. Adrian or Cade.

  "The Eaton residence." he said, parodying their butler. whom I knew they tormented as well. Adrian was somewhat more nasal than Cade. so I could tell who it was immediately.

  "Adrian, it's Hannah." I said.

  "Hannah? Hannah who, please?" he replied. He loved to tease me about my last name.

  "You know who I am. Adrian. Stop it,"

  "Is this a prank call? Are you going to whisper obscenities into the phone? If you are, please begin. I have my tape recorder ready."

  "Adrian. I have to speak to Daddy."

  "Daddy? There is no one here by that name. We have a caddy, but he is at the golf course.""

  "Stop it!" I shouted. "Stop what?"

  "All right. Adrian. You've had your fun. Please let me speak to my father,"

  "Your father? Isn't he that Cuban person?"

  I didn't answer.

  "Hello? Is there anyone there?"

  "I'm waiting," I said.

  "One moment, please." he said. He put me on hold and I know deliberately took his time. It was nearly two fall minutes before Daddy picked up. I was ready to give up and call again,

  "Hannah?"

  "Oh, Daddy. Adrian is so mean." "What did he do now?"

  "He teased me and teased me and then left me holding the phone for so long."

  "I'll speak to him." he said. "What's

  happening?"

  In the second or two it took for me to reply. I envisioned Heyden's dark eyes seizing on mine, and I saw the look of interest and wonder in his face.

  "I can't come to dinner tomorrow night." 'Oh?

  "Why not?"

  "Well, you didn't sound absolutely definite about it. and I forgot and agreed to go on a date with a boy at my school. We're going to dinner and a movie."

  "Really? Well, I don't blame you for choosing that over dinner with your old man." he said. "We'll get together next week some time. maybe."

  "Really?"

  "Sure. No problem," he said.

  I was waiting for him to ask me about Heyden, but he didn't ask a thing.

  How different he was from Mommy when it came to me and my life, I thought. Did I like this better? I hated the way Mommy had begun to ask her questions, and yet I resented Daddy not taking an iota of interest or concern. For all he knew. I was going out with a serial killer.

  "I'm sorry about it," I repeated.

  "Nothing to be sorry about. Hannah. I'll call you. Have a good time." he added,

  "Thank you," I said.

  He hung up and the line went dead. I held the receiver as if it hadn't and imagined another conversation.

  "Who's the boy? What's he like? Does your mother approve?Don't stay out too late. Be careful, Hannah. Don't give your heart away easily or cheaply. Let me tell you aboutmen. I know. I'm an expert when it comes to being a cad. Matter of fact, I'd like to see you tomorrow before you go out. We should talk. I'll take you for coffee and we'll sit on the patio. I'm sorry I haven't done this before. You've grown up so fast and right before my eyes. How beautiful you have become. I have a responsibility to fulfill. After all, I am your father,"

  Where were these words? Were they lying dormant in his mind? Had he ever thought of saying them to me?

  I hung up my phone and for a while just stood by my window, staring out at the sea and wondering if my grandmother Grace's fears weren't well founded.

  Maybe there was a curse, a dark cloud just waiting to rain its misery down upon me. too.

  Maybe it already had and I just didn't know it yet.

  4

  A Kiss of Love and Hope

  .

  I was disappointed Heyden didn't seek me out

  first thing in the morning at school the next day. We didn't share a class until third period, but I had hoped-- even expected-- that he would be there to greet me. I looked for him in the usual places. but I didn't see him anywhere, and I was so distracted because of it, I didn't hear my English teacher. Mr. Mullens, call my name to answer a question about the play we were reading. I wasn't even aware that the whole class had turned to look at me.

  "Well," Mr. Mullens said, moving down the row to my desk. "I've hypnotized another student, it seems."

  The class laughter brought me back to earth. "Are you all right. Miss Eaton?"

  "What? Yes." I said. "Why?"

  "Oh, nothing. I was just wondering since I asked you a question twenty minutes ago and you continued to stare out the window as if neither I nor the rest of these students existed. In love, are you?" he continued,

  "No!" I said sharply, tears piling under my lids. I blinked them back.

  "Pity. I was hoping that was it rather than me or the material," he added, scowled at me, and turned away.

  Massy Hewlett was practically bursting apart with glee.

  "Now that you are back with the living, can you tell us why you think I ago is doing what he is doing to Othello?" Mr. Mullens asked me.

  I threw my own eyeballs of tire at Massy and then reread my homework,

  "I know there are a few possible reasons," I began. "He says Othello might have slept with his wife, but I don't think he really believes that. It's just an excuse."

  "An excuse? For what?"

  "For liking what he's doing. I think Shakespeare is telling us same people are just driven by pure evil and enjoy hurting other people. They don't need a whole lot of reason. They take pleasure in someone else's pain," I continued and then glanced at Massy again.

  "Interesting," Mr, Mullens said. "Maybe you should continue daydreaming." he added.

  There was some more tittering, but somehow I had deflected the brunt of his reprimand and escaped any more embarrassment. Afterward. I apologized to him.

  "It's all right. I know you've had a great deal of new excitement in your life. Just hang in there," he advised and smiled at me. I was running an A in his class and I did enjoy it.

  When period three began. I took my seat and watched the classroom door with anticipation. I thought Heyden might have just come late to school this morning. The students filed in, a few rushing to beat the bell, but Heyden did not enter, and his seat remained empty when the class began. Trying not to appear too interested. I asked Michael Scranton, the only boy I had seen speak with Heyden much, if he had seen him today. I tried to be as casual as I could,

  'He didn't come to school," he said. "Probably just didn't feel like it." he added with a smirk. "Why? He awe you money or something?"

  "No," I said.

  "You're lucky," he replied and turned away as the teacher began.

  Where was Heyden? Why didn't he come to school? He hadn't mentioned any other problem when we had spoken the night before. It troubled me all day. My girlfriends, urged an by Massy Hewlett. I'm sure, caught up with me at lunch and started to ask questions about him.

  "I don't know any more about Heyden Reynolds than any of you do." I told Tina Olsen. "Why are you all asking me these questions?"

  "You looked very cozy with him yesterday at lunch.' Brigitte said.

  "So?"

  "So we were just wondering, that's all. Why are you so defensive?" she asked.

  "I'm not. I just... just don't know anything that would interest you."

  "Bet you'd like to know more about him," Massy said, looking for a way to satisfy her thirst for revenge.

  I shrugged. "Maybe. Now that you're making me think about him. maybe I would," I said.

  "You're kidding," Natalie Alexander said. "You know where he lives and what he is."

  "Where he lives isn't important, and last I looked, he was a human being."

  "Yeah, right," she said. "Miss Liberal America." she added, and they all laughed.

  I wondered if they could see the smoke flowing out of my ears. I was that hot and angry. but I smiled back at them.

  "Be careful. girls. Your snob-quotient is rising. You'll all start looking like you have flies in your noses."
I said. It was an expression our old

  housekeeper Betty Davis used to use.

  "If you hang out with Heyden, you'll be the one swatting flies," Massy quipped.

  They all laughed. I decided not to talk about Heyden anymore, and they quickly went on to other topics. After school, still concerned about him. I made an impulsive decision to drive to his house instead of returning to Joya Del Mar. I knew Mommy would be home from the hospital by now, but I thought another half hour or so wouldn't matter that much. When I pulled up in front of his home. I hesitated, wondering if I should have tried to call him first. I sat there, my heart thumping. Was I being too forward?

  Finally I told myself I had come this far. It would be stupid to just drive off and go home without speaking to him and seeing if he was all right. I stepped out and walked to the front door. There was a buzzer button, but after I pressed it. I heard nothing and thought it might not work. I knocked and waited. A few moments later the door was pulled open so abruptly, the suction nearly pulled me inside. Elisha stood there glaring out at me.

  "What do you want?" she demanded. She had her hair down and wore a thin, V-neck brown blouse and a short brown skirt. I also noticed she had a small nose ring, something I had not seen. She was barefoot and looked like she had been crying.

  "I would like to see Heyden," I said.

  "He locked himself in his room," she replied. "He hasn't even come out to eat. Maybe he's dead in there," she added.

  "Why did he do that?"

  "I don't know. He does lots of stupid things," she said. 'Where's your mother?"

  "At work. Where's yours?" she fired back at me.

  "Didn't you go to school today. either?" I asked her, ignoring her sarcasm.

  "What do you care?"

  "I work for the truancy department," I said, marching in and past her.

  "Huh?"

  "If you're not in school on Monday, we'll send a padded wagon for you." I told her,