By the time we reached their dock, I thought my hair was dry enough. I was cutting the time close anyway and couldn’t afford to take the chance of staying longer. There was always the possibility that my grandparents had come home earlier than they had anticipated, and my grandmother had begun wondering why I had stayed out in the forest or near the lake so long, despite what my grandfather had told her about artists losing their sense of time. She could even have told him to go out looking for me by now. He could walk through the forest calling my name, panic, or go to the lake and see me with the twins. That was always a fear.
When we rowed up to the place on the shore where I had boarded the rowboat, Mason insisted on helping me carry my things back to the house or close to it, even though I told him I could do it fine. I tried to control my fear of walking into Grandfather Prescott searching for me so Mason wouldn’t agree with Claudine and report how I lived to their father. I sensed, however, that he wanted to take the opportunity to talk to me without Claudine present, and the time we had spent in the rowboat traveling from the dock to shore wasn’t enough.
He glanced back as if he thought Claudine could hear us or had followed us. I was pretty much convinced that neither of them wanted to speak ill of the other without the other present. From the stories they had already told me and the things they had suggested, I doubted there were many secrets between them.
“I know Claudine has good intentions and wants to help you,” he began as we walked slowly along the forest path, “but she can be a little abrupt sometimes. She ought to prepare you before she tells you intimate stuff about us.”
“Are all brothers and sisters as close as you two are, or is that just because you’re twins?” I asked.
I was afraid it would sound silly to ask, but the truth was, I didn’t know anyone around my age who had a brother or sister. All I knew about their relationships was what I saw on television or read in the books I had to read for my homeschooling exams.
“No, I’m sure not,” he said. “And it’s not only because we’re twins. Of course, being twins has a lot to do with it. We shared so much from the day of our birth until now. We grew up playing with each other, sharing each other’s toys, even more than just occasionally sleeping in the same bed together. Oh,” he added when I looked at him askance. “Not because we were too poor back then to have separate bedrooms. We’ve always had that, but my parents have always been active professionals, my father the lawyer and my mother with her decorating business.
“From the first moments I can remember,” he continued as we walked, “we had a nanny most of the day and often even at night. I should say nannies. My mother found fault with most of them and was always taking someone’s recommendation and seeking a new one.
“What I’m trying to say is, Claudine and I are probably more dependent on each other than most brothers and sisters are, maybe even other sets of twins. We always seemed to be able to tell when one or the other was not feeling well before anyone else could tell, or when one or the other was sad. I think, even from the age of three or four, we were both terrified of losing each other and hated to be separated, even for a few hours. She always had to go along when my father took me for a haircut. We never seemed to go shopping for clothes and shoes without each other when we were very young. We comforted each other better than our nannies could, and we were always there for each other when one of us was frightened by a nightmare or anything.”
“I think that’s very nice,” I said.
He smiled. “It was nice. It is nice. I’m her best friend, and she still is mine. Despite how she sounds now, teasing me, challenging me, she’s always been overly protective when it comes to me. If she blamed me for anything, she kept it to herself until we were alone, and I always did the same if I blamed her. We’ve always defended each other in front of our parents and covered for each other so neither would get into trouble. Again, despite the way she sounded, we don’t have what they call sibling rivalry. At least, I don’t think we do.”
“I’ve always wished I had a brother or a sister. I’m sure my life would have been easier if I had been one of a pair of twins.”
“I bet. Had to be very lonely for you living in a house with elderly grandparents, especially yours. I’m surprised you’re as normal as you are.”
“Am I?”
“Believe me, you are. I know a lot of nutty girls.”
“I don’t feel like I’m normal.”
“You just need more experiences, more contact with people your own age, that’s all.”
The house came into view, so I stopped. I breathed relief. Grandfather hadn’t come looking for me. However, another half-dozen yards or so, and my grandparents could see us. The back door was shut, and the house looked quiet. I took my easel from him.
“I really wanted to walk you home because I wanted to tell you how sorry I feel about your first ever meeting with your mother. I could see in your face how much of a disappointment that was for you. You were probably hoping she had come by to take you off with her.”
“I guess I was,” I said. “I mean, I wasn’t positive she didn’t know about me. I had only what my grandparents told me, but even when I saw she hadn’t known I was still here, I thought, hoped, that she would look at me and want to be with me or want me with her. I don’t know about the legal rights or anything.”
“A mother should have the most right to her child, but she did desert you. I’m sure she would have a difficult time gaining custody after all that, even though she’s married now.”
“Yes. She never threatened it. The truth is, she is still deserting me.”
“I understand.” He smiled. “For now, you can’t think about it. You have a great time tonight,” he said. “Try not to worry about entering public school and the stuff Claudine was describing. You’re going to be fine. You’re a natural.” He kissed me softly. “I hope that ribbon will be out tomorrow. Weather report still looks good. Maybe we’ll do something ourselves. Not with Claudine along.”
“Won’t she feel bad?”
He shrugged. “She might, but she’d understand. I’m not saying we’ll ignore her the whole time or anything. Don’t you want to spend some time with just me?”
I didn’t hesitate because I had doubt. I hesitated because I didn’t, and I was afraid to say it. He raised his eyebrows.
“Yes,” I said quickly.
He stepped closer to me. For a moment, I thought that was all he would do. He was looking at me so intently, but then he kissed me again.
“I can’t stand being this close to you without kissing you,” he whispered. He had his hands on my shoulders. I wondered if he could feel the surge of heat that had risen from my stomach and into my breasts. His lips grazed my neck. I closed my eyes, and he kissed me again, harder, longer.
“Elle,” he whispered. “Elle.”
Never did my name sound so soft and lovely to me. I used to hate it, thinking I was given it for one purpose only, to defeat the darkness inside me, to urge God to welcome me and forgive me for sins I had yet to commit.
Was this the beginning of one of them?
I stepped back quickly. He took his hands off my shoulders but held them in the air.
“I really like you, Elle,” he said. “A lot. Is that okay?”
I nodded, and the worry that had washed over his face quickly disappeared. He smiled.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “and tomorrow and tomorrow.” He laughed and then started back.
I just stood there watching him disappear into the woods until I heard some branches cracking, and my heart stopped and started. Had my grandfather come looking for me after all but gone in another direction first? Had he witnessed our good-bye? I looked slowly to my right.
Standing there so still that it was difficult at first to see her was the doe I had seen and drawn. I wondered if she was looking at me with the same sort of curiosity and admiration. Wasn’t she at a disadvantage, not being full of fear at how close we were to each other? When big-game hunting season began here in Lake Hurley, deer that didn’t have enough of an instinctive fear of humans were probably easy targets. They most certainly died with a look of surprise in their eyes.
I set my easel down and opened my pad to the drawing I had first made.
“Look, this is you,” I said. She flicked her ears and then slowly walked deeper into the forest. I laughed. “I hope that wasn’t criticism,” I called after her. I smiled to myself and continued on to the house.
The moment I opened the back door and stepped in, my grandmother pounced. “I was just about to send your grandfather out looking for you.”
“Why? I’m not late,” I said, holding up my new watch.
“You’re almost late. You should give yourself more time in case something delays you. I’ve told you that promptness is a very good indication of seriousness and dedication. I won’t tolerate your being late for school once you begin. Your mother would get distracted easily by almost anything to avoid her responsibilities. Tardiness was her middle name.”
“I’m not going to be like her, Grandmother. Not in any way,” I said, with such determination that I even surprised myself.
I saw her eyes widen. “Well, I hope that’s true.”
“It’s true,” I said. “You can stop worrying about it.” It was the first time I had ever told her to do anything, especially with that tone of voice.
Her eyes widened even more. “I’ll be the best judge of what I should and shouldn’t worry about,” she replied. “Don’t think you’re in charge of yourself just yet, missy.”
“Now what?” Grandfather Prescott asked, coming up behind her.
“We were just talking about her mother.”
“I thought we agreed that Elle had the right attitude concerning Deborah. What did you say now, Elle?”
“All I said was that I wouldn’t be like her,” I told him.
“Well, that sounds good, Myra.”
She nodded, still looking at me with those penetrating eyes. “Maybe she won’t be like her, but that doesn’t mean that she won’t be like him.”
I felt a cold chill at the back of my neck. Was it impossible for her ever to see any good in me, no matter what I did or said?
“Myra,” my grandfather said softly. “She’s given you no reason to—”
“Go get washed up and dressed to go out to this . . . this dinner,” she said, turning away.
My grandfather watched her go and then flashed a smile at me before returning to the living room. I hurried to my room to put away the art supplies and then picked out one of the dresses they had bought me for school. I began to undress before realizing I was still wearing Claudine’s bathing suit. Panic brought blood to my face. If she had been looking in at me and saw this on top of what I had just said, the roof would come down on my head.
Quickly, I went into the bathroom, carrying my clothing with me. As with all doors in this house, there was no lock on the bathroom door, so as fast as I could, I got out of the bikini and rolled it into a ball. I put it in the small trash can and covered it with some crumpled tissues just in case she walked in on me while I took a shower. It was then that I went into my biggest panic, however.
I had forgotten to consider what the sun could do. I was red everywhere except where the skimpy bathing suit had covered my body. If she walked in and looked at me, which was something she often did, I would have no way to explain it. I couldn’t tell her I had taken off my clothes to lie in the sun in my bra and panties. Besides, she knew how big my panties were. They were gigantic compared with the bottoms of Claudine’s bikini.
I had never showered and dried myself so quickly, my heart pounding the whole time. As soon as I could, I dressed. Luckily, Grandmother Myra had gone upstairs to fix her hair and put on a different dress. By the time she came down, I was out, and the bathing suit was hidden under my other undergarments in my dresser drawer. I actually felt exhausted, not only from the effort but also from the tension.
She came in to look at me. “You’ve had more sun than you should on your face, neck, and arms, young lady. You should have the sense to locate yourself in a shady area out there.”
“I know, Grandmother. I forgot because I was so into my drawing and painting. I will be much more careful tomorrow.”
“Um,” she said. “I’m not sure it’s good for you to spend so much time alone in the forest and by the lake. We couldn’t help you if you needed help, if someone nasty suddenly appeared.”
“Oh, there’s no one in this area yet. It’s just me and the deer and the birds and rabbits,” I said. “I saw a fox, I think. It’s truly awe-inspiring out there. You can feel more spiritual. I read that in one of the Bible stories you gave me.”
“Hmm. Let me see what you’ve done,” she said, nodding at my pad.
I opened it quickly to the lake scene. “I have much more to do before it’s a finished picture, Grandmother.”
She studied it. “That cloud you drew and painted . . .”
“Yes?”
“It looks almost like the face of Jesus,” she said in a softer tone of voice, surprise in her face. “Did you do that deliberately?”
“No,” I said.
She seemed to like that answer. She called for my grandfather.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Look at that picture she’s painting. Tell me what you see,” she said.
He drew closer to the picture. “It’s a beautiful scene at the lake. I like the colors you’re choosing, Elle. You going to put some birds in it?”
“Yes. I saw a wonderful flock of ducks today,” I said.
“Well, it’s a very good initial attempt at capturing nature,” he said.
“That’s not it,” Grandmother Myra said impatiently. “Look at those clouds. One especially should remind you of something, Prescott Edwards.”
He looked, glanced at me, and shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, you should be sure. She’s drawn the face of Jesus. Can’t you see it?”
“Oh . . . yes, yes, I see what you mean. That’s very clever of you, Elle.”
“She said she didn’t do it deliberately. It just came out of her.”
“Really?” He studied the picture. “That’s amazing.”
“It’s more than amazing. Don’t you know what that means?”
“Oh, right,” he said, and then asked, “What do you think it means, Myra?”
“Prescott Edwards, sometimes I think you’re as dim as a dying lightbulb. Obviously, it means we’ve done a good job. There is grace in her now. I hope it continues.”
Grandfather Prescott looked at me, truly surprised and full of admiration. “Well, yes, I see what you mean, Myra. And don’t forget,” he added, “she’s done this after she met her mother.”
“I won’t forget that,” Grandmother Myra said. “I won’t forget any of it. Well, let’s get started. I don’t like eating late in these places. The food is probably warmed over too much.”
My grandfather winked at me, and the three of us started out. I glanced back at my picture. If there was any resemblance to the pictures of Jesus we had on the walls, I couldn’t see it, not even vaguely. I didn’t think Grandfather Prescott really saw it, either. I guess we all see what we want to see, I thought, but I was grateful that was what she had seen.
Her vision of the cloud not only made her calmer, but it also made her surprisingly joyful. Her whole mood seemed to have undergone a facelift. When Grandfather Prescott talked about how often they used to go out to eat, she laughed. Whenever she laughed, it helped me feel more hopeful. Maybe with all the time that had passed and all that we’d been through, she was the one moving into the light and out of the darkness, not me.
“Your grandfather wasn’t so keen on my cooking back in those days.”
“Now, Myra . . .”
“Don’t try to sugar-coat it, Prescott Edwards. You were too nice to be critical, or maybe too afraid.”
“‘Afraid’ sounds more truthful,” he said. She surprised me again by laughing.
“He knew I’d take a frying pan to him if he said something nasty after I had worked so hard.”
“No question she would have, and nearly did a few times.”
“Your taste was spoiled with all that eating out before we were married,” she said. “A bachelor is another human species, missy. Don’t you forget that.”
“If she remembers all the things you’ve told her she has to remember, her head will explode.”
“Never you mind. What I’m telling you is important to get along in this world,” she said, turning to me. “Wisdom is different from book knowledge, and the only way to get wisdom is to listen to those who are older.”
I nodded, and she stared at me so hard I thought maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe she thought I was just agreeing with her to get along with her. She always used to suspect me of that. She surprised me again, however.
“I’m glad you had enough sense to keep your hair pinned up, Elle. As I told you, you have to be careful out in the sun, but I admit you have just enough now to look prettier. Maybe too pretty.”
“Oh, you can’t be too pretty,” my grandfather told her.
“Don’t tell me what you can and can’t be. Lucifer was the prettiest angel in heaven.”
“God made him that way.”
“Yes, but for a reason,” she replied. “Men don’t sin so easily with ugly women, and women don’t sin easily with ugly men. You keep that in mind, Elle.”
“Another thing to store. There’ll be no room for her schoolwork,” Grandfather Prescott kidded.
“There’ll be room,” she said. “There’ll be room.”
We rode on. Maybe I was wrong to feel it so strongly, but it seemed that something was really changing, for the better. For the first time, I had the feeling that I was really and truly their granddaughter and not some child of the darkness who was born in their house and made to be the biggest burden of their lives, another test God had created. Very rarely during my growing up did I feel I was part of a family. Could that happen? Could my grandmother soften enough to express any love for me? If this mood she was in continued, that might happen, I thought.
It carried over into the restaurant. Grandmother Myra didn’t complain about the prices and the food as much, and when some old friends stopped by our table, friends they knew from when they had their mattress business, she was friendlier, even when someone referred to me with admiration.
Of course, by now, everyone in the community who knew us and knew I was their granddaughter knew at least vaguely what had happened to my mother. Through the years, I understood that some of their acquaintances admired them for the responsibility they undertook, but some did not. I often heard about them. According to my grandmother, there were many who said they could never do it, no matter what they were told about an obligation or a responsibility. The child of a rape had the mark of Cain on his or her face. Every good deed, every show of respect for prayer or God, was connived, a manipulation.
Whenever we did meet someone in the community, I searched his or her face to see which group he or she belonged to, the admirers or the condemners, those who saw me as a pretty young girl or those who saw me as the evil child, so evil they’d sleep with their bedroom doors locked.
“How big she’s grown,” Mrs. Frampton said. “Are you in college yet, dear?”
“No, ma’am. I’m going into eleventh grade,” I said.
“They look so much older these days, don’t they, Myra?”
“Yes. Don’t know whether that’s good or bad,” she said. I expected her to state clearly that it wasn’t an advantage to look older, as she always did, but she just smiled.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s good for you to have a pretty young granddaughter.”
“And why do you say that?” Grandmother Myra asked her.
Mrs. Frampton looked shocked at the questions. “Well . . . it’s better than having a goose,” she replied, and laughed. “Good to see you, Myra,” she added, and left us.
“Town gossip,” Grandmother Myra muttered. “Just looking to see how we were getting along.”
“We’re getting along just fine,” Grandfather Prescott said.
Grandmother Myra watched Mrs. Frampton talking to some other women. They all looked our way.
“Busybodies,” she said.
Later, when we were home and Grandmother Myra went up to her bathroom, Grandfather Prescott told me he was just as surprised as I was at my grandmother’s approving our going out to dinner.
“I thought after Deborah, we’d have a hard time with her, but you made her feel very good about it, Elle. She and I talked about how well you handled it all. You said and did the right things. We’re both proud of you. Truth is, this was a little bit of a celebration tonight.”
I didn’t think of it that way but didn’t say so. I smiled. I didn’t want to think of my disappointment with my mother as a reason to celebrate, but I knew what I had to do. Was I becoming as much of a conniver as my mother, the conniver those who rejected me suspected I would become? When do you know you’re not doing the right thing for the right reasons? Couldn’t you lie to make someone happier and make life easier for everyone, or was it always a sin?
In any case, this was one of the happiest times we had had together. When my grandmother came down, she told us that unlike last time, she didn’t get a stomachache from the food.
“We just caught them at the right time,” she decided. “I’m sure the food isn’t always as fresh. You behaved very well, Elle.”
“See why it’s important now that she get out more?” Grandfather Prescott said. “She’s ready.”
“I hope she’s ready. I’m hoping you’ll carry the good things we’ve taught you into school when you begin.”
“I will, Grandmother. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I was wondering if maybe I shouldn’t walk there one day just so I can get a good idea of how long it takes. I’d walk there and walk right back.”
“That is a good idea, Myra.”
“Um,” she muttered. “Maybe we should all do that.”
“I think she should go herself. The girl’s got to know how to deal with traffic and such on her own. You can’t hold her hand all the time.”
She thought. “Maybe.”
“I could drive her back and forth tomorrow morning to show her the best route, and then either in the afternoon or the next day, she can try it.”
“I’d like that,” I said. “I admit I’m nervous about it.”
“Nonsense. There’s nothing to be nervous about as long as you keep your mind on what you’re doing. Okay,” she said. “You show her the route in the morning. I’m going to go to bed. I’m feeling more tired than usual,” she added, rising and suddenly looking her age.
“Are you all right, Grandmother?” I asked.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Just need a good night’s rest. We all need that.”
“I need to do some reading first,” I said, rising, too.
“Okay, you two can desert me. I’m going to watch a little television. Elle, we’ll go after breakfast.”
“After cleanup,” Grandmother Myra reminded him.
“After cleanup.”
I left quickly, pleased with what I had gotten and afraid that if more was said, it would be retracted.
Before I went to sleep, I went out to get a glass of milk. Grandfather Prescott had already gone upstairs. Except for the kitchen, the house was dark and quiet. Just after I poured my glass of milk and turned off the lights, I gazed out the back window. The moon was not quite full, but it was so bright it lit up the forest. I wondered where the doe was and when she slept. Just as I was about to turn away, something caught my eye. It looked like a shadow had come to life just down to my left. When it moved into more moonlight, I realized it was Mason. What was he doing out there now? He paused, looked back at our house, and then disappeared into the woods.
He had been looking into our windows, I thought. Why?
I waited to see if he would reappear, but he was gone. Seeing him like that troubled me. What if Grandfather Prescott or my grandmother had caught him peering into our windows? I lay in bed thinking about it for a long time before finally falling asleep. For the first time in a long time, I overslept. I woke when I realized that Grandmother Myra was standing beside the bed looking down at me.
“You must have stayed up too late reading,” she said. “I don’t want you reading so much at night.”
“Okay.”
“Your grandfather is anxious to take you for that ride. I don’t know why it’s so important that it be done now. There’s still more than six weeks before school begins.”
I nodded but didn’t move. I hoped she wouldn’t remain in the room while I dressed. She’d see my sunburn for sure.
“Well, get your morning started,” she said. “I want you to do some shopping for me, too, after your grandfather shows you the route to school. I have some of my old aches and pains this morning and need to rest.”
“Okay, Grandmother.”
“I’ll make up a list.”
I nodded. It probably was the dumbest thing for a girl my age to get excited about, but this was the first time I was ever going to do it.
“Your grandfather never pays attention to where things are in the supermarket, but I’m sure you’ll find it all. You mind that you don’t talk to any strangers,” she added, and turned to leave.
Before she could turn around again, I scurried out of bed and quickly began to change into my clothes. Then I hurried into the bathroom to wash my face and hands and went to the kitchen to help her prepare breakfast. Grandfather Prescott was already sitting at the table. She was right. He was looking forward to taking me on the ride. It would be another first, the first time we were in the car without my grandmother. I never expected what that would mean, what I would learn.