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VC.  Andrew Bodes

Flowers in the Attic Petals em the Wind My Sweet Audrina Heaven Dark
Angel Garden of Shadows Fallen Hearts Gates of Paradise Wsb of Dreams
Dawn Secrets of the Morning Twilight's Child Midnight Whispers Darkest
Hour Ruby ) Peari in the Mist All That Gutters Hidden Jewer Tarnished
Gold Melody Heart Song Unfinished Symphony Music in the Night Butterfly
Crystal Broofce Raven Runaways Olivia

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Following the death of Virginia Andrews, the Andrews family worked with
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Faxworth Hall

And so it came to pass the summer when I was fifty-two and Chris was
fifty-four that our mother's promise of riches, made long ago when I
was twelve and Chris was fourteen, was at last realized.

We both stood and stared at that huge, intimidating house I'd never
expected to see again.  Even though it was not an exact duplicate of
the original Fbxworth Hall, still I quivered inside.  What a price both
Chris and I had paid to stand where we were now, temporary rulers over
this mammoth house that should have been left in charred ruins.  Once,
long ago, I'd believed he and I would live in this house like a
princess and prince, and between us we'd have the golden touch of King
Midas, only with more control..

I no longer believed in fairy tales.

As vividly as if it had happened only yesterday, 1 remembered that
chill summer night full of mystical moonlight and magical stars in a
black velvet sky when we'd first approached this place, expecting only
the best to happen.  We had found only the worst.

At that time Chris and I had been so young, innocent and trusting,
believing in our mother, loving her, believing as she led us and our
five-year-old twin brother and sister through the dark and somehow
scary night, to that huge house called Foxworth Hall, that all our
future days would be colored green for wealth and yellow for
happiness.

What blind faith we'd had when "we tagged along behind.

Locked away in that dim and dreary upstairs room, someday Fbxworth Hall
and all its fabulous riches would be ours.  However, despite all her
promises, a cruel and heartless old grandfather with a bad but
tenacious heart refused to stop beating in order to let four young and
hopeful hearts live, and so we'd waited, and waited, until more than
three long-long years passed, and Momma failed to keep her promise.

And not until the day she died--and her will was read--did Fbxworth
Hall fall under our control.  She had left the mansion to Bart, her
favorite grandson, my child by her own second husband, but until he was
twenty-five, the estate was held in trust by Chris.

Fbxworth Hall had been ordered reconstructed before she moved to
California to find us, but it wasn't until after her death that the
final touches were completed on the new Fbxworth Hall.

For fifteen years the house stood empty, overseen by caretakers,
legally supervised by a staff of attorneys who had either written or
called Chris long distance to discuss with him the problems that arose.
A waiting mansion, grieving, perhaps, waiting for the day when Bart
decided he'd go there to live, as we'd ^always presumed one day he'd
do.  Now he was offering this house to us for a short while, to be our
own until he arrived and took over.

There was always a catch in every lure offered, whispered my
ever-suspicious mind.  I felt the lure now, reaching out to ensnare us
again.  Had Chris and I traveled such a long road only to come full
circle, back to the beginning?

What would be the catch this time?

No, no, I kept telling myself, my suspicious, ever doubting nature was
getting the better of me.  We had the gold without the tarnish ... we
did!  We did have to realize our just rewards some day.  The night was
over--our day had finally come, and we were now standing in the full
sunlight of dreams come true.

To actually be here, planning to live in that restored pleasure
vanished.  I was actually realizing a nightmare that wouldn't vanish
when I opened my eyes.

I threw off the feeling, smiled at Chris, squeezed his fingers and
stared at the restored Foxworth Hall, risen from the ashes of the old,
to confront and confound us again with its majesty, its formidable
size, its sense of abiding evil, its myriad windows with their black
shutters like heavy lids over stony dark eyes.  It loomed hip and wide,
spreading over several acres in magnificent but intimidating grandeur. 
It was larger than most hotels, formed in the shape of a giant T, only
crossed on each end to give it an enormous center section, with wings
jutting off north and south, east and west.

It was constructed of rosy pink bricks.  The many black shutters
matched the roof of state.  Four impics- sive white Corinthian columns
supported a gracious front portico.  A sunburst of stained glass was
over the black double front doors.  Huge brass escutcheon ptetes
decorated the doors and made what could have been plain rather elegant
and less somber.

This might have cheered me if the sun hadn't suddenly taken a fugitive
position behind a passing dark cloud.

I glanced upward at a sky turned stormy and foreboding, heralding rain
and wind.  The trees in the surrounding forest began to sway so that
birds took alarmed flight and screeched as they flew for cover.  The P6
11 lawns so immaculately kept were quickly litteredwrt" broken twigs
and felling leaves, and the blooming flowers in geometrically laid-out
beds were lashed to the ground unmercifully.

I trembled and thought: Tell me again, ChristopW Doll, that its going
to work out fine.  Tell me again, for don't really believe now that the
sun has gone and we storm is drawing nearer.

He glanced upward, too, sensing my growing anxiety my unwillingness to
go through with this, despite my promise to Bart, my second son.  Seven
years ago"18 psychiatrists had told us their treatment was successful
^ life without needing therapy on a regular basis.  , To give me
comfort Chris's arm lifted to encircle my| shoulders.  His nps lowered
to brush my cheek.

"It's ] going to work out for all of us.  I know it will.  We're no
longer the Dresden dolls trapped in an upstairs room, dependent on our
elders to do the right thing.  Now we're the adults, in control of our
lives.  Until Bart reaches the stated age of inheritance, you and I are
the owners.  Dr.  and Mrs.  Christopher Sheffield from Marin County,
California, and no one will know us as brother and sister.  They won't
suspect that we are truly descendants of the Foxworths.  We have left
all troubles behind us.  Cathy, this is our chance.  Here, in this
house, we can undo all the harm done to us and to our children,
especially Bart.  We'll rule not with steel wills and iron fists, as
was Malcolm's way, bu[t with love, compassion and understanding."  ^
Because Chris had his arm about me, holding me tight against his side,
I gained strength enough to look at the house in a new light.  It was
beautiful.  iporBart's sake we'd stay until his twenty-fifth birthday,^
and then Chris and I would take Cindy with us and fly to Hawaii, where
we'd always wanted to live out our lives, near the sea and white
beaches.  Yes, that's the way it was supposed to be.  The way it had to
be.  Smiling, I turned to Chris.

"You're right.  I am not afraid of this house, or any house."  He
chuckled and lowered his arm to my waist, pressuring me forward.

Soon after finishing high school, my first son Jory had flown to New
York City to join his grandmother, Madame Marisha.  There, in her
ballet company, he'd soon been noticed by the critics and was given
leading roles.  His childhood sweetheart, Melodie, had flown east to
join Jory.  At the age of twenty, my Jory had married Melodie, who was
only a year younger.  The pair of them had struggled and worked to
reach the top.  They were now perfect, beautiful coordination, as if
they could reach each other's mind and signal with a flash of their
eyes.

For five years they'd been riding the crest of success.

Every performance brought rave reviews from the critics and from the
public.  Television exposure had given them a larger audience than they
could ever have gained by personal appearances alone.

Madame Marisha had died in her sleep two years ago, though we could
console ourselves by knowing she'd lived to be eighty-seven and had
worked up until the very day she passed away.

Around the age of seventeen, my second son Bart had transformed almost
magically from a backward student into the most brilliant one in his
school.  By that time Jory had flown on to New York.  I had thought at
the time that Jory's absence had brought Bart out of his shell and made
him interested in learning.  Just two days ago, he had graduated from
Harvard Law School, the valedictorian of his class.

Chris and I bad joined Melodic and Jory in Boston, and in the huge
auditorium of Harvard Law School we'd watched Bart receive his law
degree.  Only Cindy, our adopted daughter, was not there.  She was at
her best friend's house in South Carolina.  It had given me new pam to
know that Bart could not let go of his envy of a girl who'd done her
best to win tus approval-especially when he'd done nothing to win here.
It gave me additional pain to know that Cindy couldn't let go of her
dislike of Bart long enough to help him celebrate.

"Nol" she'd shouted over the telephone, "I don't > > if ka AtA find me
an invitatinnt It's just hix way of to me Explain to Jory and Melodic
why, so their feelings won't be hurt.  But you won't have to explain to
Bart.He'UkBOW.", " , .... I'd sat between Chns and Jory and stared,
amazed unwilling to communicate, could rise to the top of his| class
and be named valedictorian.  His impassioned' words created a
mesmerizing spell.  I glanced at Chris, who looked proud enough to
burst before he grinned at me.

"Wow, who would have guessed?  He's terrific, Cathy.  Aren't you proud?
I know I am."

Yes, yes, of course, I was very proud to see Bart up there.  Still, I
knew the Bart behind the podium was not the Bart we all knew at home.
Maybe he was safe now.

Completely normal--his doctors had said so.

To my way of thinking, there were many small indications that Bart had
not changed as dramatically as his doctors thought.  He'd said just
before we parted, "You must be there, Mother, when I come into my own."
Not a word about Chris being there with me.

"It's important to me that you be there."

Always he had to force himself to speak Chris's name.

"We'll invite Jory and his wife down, too, and, of course, Cindy." He'd
grimaced just to say her name.

It was beyond me how anyone could dislike a girl as pretty and sweet as
our beloved adopted daughter.  I couldn't have loved Cindy more if
she'd been flesh of my flesh, and blood of my Christopher Doll.  In a
way, since she'd come to us at the age of two, she was our child, the
only one we could claim as truly belonging to both of us.

Cindy was sixteen now, and much more voluptuous than I'd been at her
age.  But Cindy hadn't been as deprived as I. Her vitamins had come
from fresh air and sunshine, both of which had been denied four
imprisoned children.  Good food and exercise..  .

she'd had the best.  We'd had the worst.

Chris asked if we were going to stay out here all day and wait for
pelting rain to drench us both before we went inside.  He tugged me
forward, urging me on with his cheerful confidence.

crash and swiftly come closer, with the swollen, heavy sky zigzagging
with frightening electrical bolts, we approached the grand portico of
Fbxworth Hall.  I I began to notice details I'd missed before, Hie
portico floor was made of mosaic tiles in three shades of red
intricately laid to form a sunburst pattern that matched the glass
sunburst over the double front doors.

I looked at those sunburst windows and rejoiced.  They hadn't been here
before.  Perhaps it was just-as Chris had predicted.  It wouldn't be
the same, just as no two snowflakes were the same.

Then I was frowning, for to all intents and purposes, who ever saw the
differences in falling snowflakes?

"Stop looking for something to steal the pleasure from this day,
Catherine.  I see it on your face, in your eyes.  I vow on my word of
honor that we wiB leave this house as soon as Bart has his party and
fly on to Hawaii.  If a hurricane comes and blows a tidal wave over our
home once we're there, it will be because you expect that to happen."

He made me laugh.

"Don't forget the volcano," I said with a small giggle.

"It could hurl hot lava at us."

He grinned and playfully spanked my bottom.

"Quit!  Please, please.  August tenth will see us on our plane but a
hundred to one you'll worry about Jory, about Bart, and wonder what
he's doing all alone in this house."

That's when I remembered something forgotten until now.  Waiting inside
Fbxworth Hall was the surprise Bart had promised would be there.  How
strangely he'd looked when he'd said that.

"Mother, it will blow your mind when you see " He'd paused, smiled and
looked uneasy.

"I've flown down there each summer just to check things over and see
that the house wasn't being neglected and left to mold and decay.  I
gave orders to interior decorators to make it look exactly as it used
to, except for my office.  I I'n need.  But... if you want, you can do
a few things to make it cozy."

Cozy?  How could a house such as this ever be cozy?  I knew what it
fete like to be enclosed inside, swallowed, trapped forever.  I
shivered as I heard the click of my high heels beside the dull thuds of
Chris's shoes as we;

neared the black doors with their escutcheons made decorative with
heraldic shields.  I wondered if Bart had looked up the Foxworth
ancestry and found the titles of aristocracy and the coats of arms he
desperately wanted and seemed to need.  On each black door were heavy
brass knockers, and in between the doors a small, almost unnoticeable
button to ring a bell somewhere;

inside.

"I'm sure this house is full of modern gadgets that would shock genuine
historical Virginia homes," whispered Chris.

No doubt Chris was right.

Bart was in love with the past, but even more infatuated with the
future.  Not an electronic gadget came out that he didn't buy.

Chris reached into his pocket for the door key Bart had given to me
just before we flew from Boston.  Chris smiled my way before he
inserted the large brass key.

Before he could complete the turning action, the door swung silently
open.

Startled, I took a step backward.

Chris pulled me forward again, speaking politely to the old man who
invitingly gestured us inside.

"Come in," he said in a weak but raspy voice as he quickly looked us
over.

"Your son called and told me to expect you.  I'm the hired help--so to
speak."

I stared at the lean old man who was bent forward so that his head
projected unbecomingly, making him seem to be climbing hills even while
standing on a flat surface.  His hair was faded, not gray and not
blond.  His eyes were a watery pate blue, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes
hollowed out, as if he'd suffered greatly for many,

something familiar.

My leaden legs didn't want to move.  The fierce wind whipped my white,
full-skirted summer dress high enough to wow my thighs as I put one
foot inside the grand entrance foyer of the Phoenix called Fbxworth
Hall.

Chris stayed dose at my side.  He released my hand to put his arm
around my shoulders.

"Dr.  and Mis.

Christopher Sheffield," he introduced us in his kindly way, "and
you?"

The wizened old man seemed reluctant to put out his right hand and
shake Chris's strong, tanned one.  His thin old lips wore a cynical,
crooked smite that duplicated the cock of one bushy eyebrow.

"My pleasure to meet you.  Dr.  Sheffield."

I couldn't take my eyes off that bent old man with his watery blue
eyes.  Something about his smile, his thinning hair with broad streaks
of silver, those eyes with startling dark lashes.  Daddy!

He looked as our father might have looked if he'd lived to be as old as
this man before us and had suffered through every torment known to
mankind.

My daddy, my beloved handsome father who'd been the ]oy of my youth.
How I'd prayed to see him again some day.

The stringy old hand was grasped firmly by Chris, and only then did tee
old man tell us who he was.

"Your long-lost uncle who was, ostensibly, lost in the Swiss Alps
fifty-seven years ago."

Quickly Chris said all the right words to cover the shockj that
obviously showed on both our faces.

"You've startled my wife," he politely explained.

"You see, he maiden name was Fbxworth .. . and she has believed until
now that all her maternal family was dead."  I Several smalt, crooked
smiles fleeted like shadows on "Uncle Joel's" face before he pasted on
the benignj pious look of the sublimely pure in heart.

"I under^ stand," said the old man in his whispery voice that sounded
tike a faint wind rustling unpleasantly in dead, fallen leaves.  ;

Deep in Joel's watery cerulean eyes lingered shadows, dark, troubled
shadows.  I knew without speaking that Chris would tell me my
imagination was working overtime again.

No shadows, no shadows, no shadows .. . but those I created myself.

To lift myself above my suspicions of this old man who claimed to be
one of my mother's two older and dead brothers, I gazed with interest
around the foyer that had often been used as a ballroom.  I heard the
'wind pick up velocity as the thunderclaps drew ever closer and closer
together, indicating the storm was almost directly overhead.

Oh, sigh for the day when I'd been twelve and stared out at the rain,
wanting to dance in this ballroom with the man who was my mother's
second husband and would later be the father of my second son, Sigh for
all that I'd been then, so young and mil of faith, so hopeful that the
world was a beautiful and benign place.

have shrunk in comparison to all I'd seen since Chris and I had
traveled all over Europe and had been to Asia, Egypt and India.  Even
so, this foyer seemed to me twice as elegant and impressive as it had
when I was twelve.

Oh, the pity of that, to still be overwhelmed!  I gazed with reluctant
awe, a strange aching beginning in my heart, making it thud louder,
making my blood race fast and hot.  I stared at the three chandeliers
of crystal and gold that held real candles.  Each was fully fifteen
feet in diameter, with seven tiers of candles.  How many tiers had
there been before?  Five?  Three?  1 couldn't remember.  I stared at
the huge mirrors with gold frames that lined the foyer, reflecting the
elegant Louis XIV furniture where those who didn't dance could sit and
watch and converse.

It wasn't supposed to be this way!  Things remembered never lived up to
expectations' why was this second Fbxworth Hall overwhelming me even
more than the original?

Then I saw something else something i didn't expect to see.

Those dual curving staircases, one on the right, the other on the left
of the vast expanse of red and white checkered marble.  Weren't they
the same stairs?

Refurbished, but the same?  Hadn't I watched the fire that had burned
Foxworth Hall until it was only red embers and smoke?  AH eight of the
chimneys had stood; so had the marble staircases.  The intricately
designed banisters and rosewood: railing must have burned and been
replaced.  1 swallowed over the hard lump that lodged in my throat. I'd
wanted the house to be new, all new .. . nothing left of the old.. .. -
: -,... Joel was watching me, telling me my face revealed more than
Chris's.  When our eyes locked, he quickly looked away before he
gestured that we were to follow him.  Joel showed us through all the
beautiful first-floor asked all the questions, before at last we
settled dow in one of the salons and Joel began telling his owi
story.

Along the way he'd paused in the enormous latches long enough to put
together a snack for our lunch.

Refusing Chris's offer to help, he had carried in a tray with tea and
dainty sandwiches.  My appetite was smaHJ but as was to be expected,
Chris was ravenous and in i few minutes had dispatched six of the tiny
sandwicnei and was leaching for another as Joel poured him s second cup
of tea.  I ate but one of the miniature tasteless sandwiches and sipped
twice from the tea, which was steaming hot and very strong, expectantly
anticipating the tale Joel would tell.  1 His voice was frail, with
those gritty undertones that made it seem he had a cold and speaking
was difficult.

Yet soon I forgot the unpleasant sound of his voice as he began to
relate so much of what I'd always wanted to know about our grandparents
and our mother when she was a child.  In no time at all it became dear
that he'd hated his father very much, and only then could I begin to
warm up to him.  | "You called your father by his Christian name?"  My
first (Question since he'd begun his story, my voice an intimidated
whisper, as if Malcolm himself might be 'hovering somewhere within
hearing...:

His thin lips moved to twist into a grotesque mockery of a smile.

"Of course.  My brother Mel was four years older than I, and we'd
always referred to our father by his given name, but never in his
presence.  We didn't have that kind of nerve.  Galling him Daddy seemed
ridiculous.  We couldn't call him Father because he wasn't a real
father.

"Dad' would have indicated a warm relationship, which we didn't have
and didn't want.

When we had to, we called him Father.  In fact, we both tried not to be
seen or heard by him.  We'd disappear when he was due home.  He had an
office in town from which be conducted most of his business and another
massive desk that was to us a bamer.  Even when he was home, he managed
to keep himself remote, un touchable.  He was never idle, always
jumping up to take long distance calls in his office so we couldn't
overhear his business transactions.  He seldom talked to our mother.
She didn't seem to mind.  On rare occasions we'd seen him holding our
baby sister on his lap, and we'd hide and watch, with strange yearnings
in our chests.

"We'd talk about it afterward, wondering why we'd feel jealous of
Corrine, when Corrine was often just as severely punished as we were.
But always our father was sorry when he punished her.  To make up for
some humiliation, some beating, or being locked in the attic, which was
one of his favorite ways to punish us, he'd bring Corrine a costly
piece of jewelry, or an expensive doll or toy.  She had everything any
little giri could desire but if she did one wrong thing, he took from
her what she loved most and gave it to the church he patronized.  She'd
cry and try to win back his affection, but he could turn against her as
easily as he could turn toward her.

"When Mel and I tried to win gifts of consolation from him, he'd turn
his back and tell us to act like men, not children.  Mel and I used to
think your mother knew how to work our father very well to get what she
wanted.  We didn't know how to act sweet, or how to be beguiling, or
demure."

Behind my eyes 1 could see my mother as a child, running through this
beautiful but sinister home, growing accustomed to having everything
lavish and expensive, so that later on when she married Daddy, who had
earned a modest salary, she still didn't think about how much she paid
for anything.

I sat there with wide eyes as Joel went on.

"Conine and our mother didn't like each other.  As we grew up, we
recognized the fact that our mother was jealous of her own daughter's
beauty, and the many charms that Corrine was exceptionally beautiful.
Even as her brol ers we could sense the power she would be able to wi<
one day."  Joel spread his thin, pale hands on his Ie) His hands were
gnarled and knotted, but somehow th still maintained a remnant of
elegance, perhaps t cause be used them gracefully, or perhaps because
th were so pale.

"Look around at all this grandeur a beauty--and picture a household of
tormented peopi all struggling to be free of the chains Malcolm put'
us.  Even our mother, who'd inherited a fortune fix her own parents,
was kept under Stringent control.

"Mel escaped the banking business, which he hat and had been forced
into by Malcolm, by jumping oh Ins motorcycle and racing away into the
mountaii where he'd stay in a log cabin he and I had construct
together.  We would invite our girlfriends there and i did everything
we knew our father would disapprove deliberately, out of defiance for
his absolute author ii "One terrible summer day Mel went over a pro
pice; they had to dig his body but of the ravine.  He w only
twenty-one.  I was seventeen.  I felt half de myself, so empty and
alone with my brother gone.  it father came to me after Mel's funeral
and said I'd ha to take the place of my older brother and work in o of
his banks to learn about the financial world.  I might as well have
told me I'd have to cut off my ban and feet.  Iran away that very
night."

All about us the huge house seemed to wait, we quiet, too quiet.  The
storm outside seemed to hold breath as well, although I could glimpse
the leaden gr sky growing more and more swollen and turgid.

moved slightly closer to Chris on the elegant soi Across from us in a
wing-back chair, Joel sat silently, if caught in melancholy memories,
and Chris and 11 longer existed for him.

"Where did you go?"  ashed Chris, putting down 1 teacup and leaning
back before he crossed his legs.  Im a boy of seventeen on his own
..."

Joel jerked back to the present, seeming startled to find himself back
in his hated childhood home.

"It wasn't easy.  I didn't know how to do anything practical, but at
music I was very talented.  I caught a freight steamer and worked as a
deckhand to pay my way over to France.  For the first time in my life I
had calluses on my hands.  Once I was in France, I found a job in a
nightclub and earned a few francs a week.  Soon I grew tired of the
long hours and moved on to Switzerland, thinking I'd see all the world
and never return home.  I found another job as a nightclub musician in
a small Swiss inn near the Italian border and soon was joining skiing
parties into the Alps.  I'd spend most of my free time skiing, and in
the summer, hiking or bicycling.

One day good friends asked me to join them on a rather risky trip, to
downhill ski from a very high peak.  I was about nineteen then, and the
four others ahead were laughing and yelling at each other and didn't
notice when I lost control and went tumbling headlong into a deep ice
crevice.  I broke my leg in the fall.  I lay down there a day and a
half, partly in shock, when two monks traveling-on donkeys heard my
weak cries for help.

They knew how to get me out--but I don't remember much about that, for
I was weak with hunger and half out of my mind from pain.  When I came
to, I was in their monastery, and smooth, bland faces were smiling at
me.  Their monastery was on the Italian side of the Alps, and I didn't
know a word of Italian.  They taught me their Latin as my broken kg
healed, and then they used my slight artistic talent to help them paint
wall murals and decorate handwritten scripts with religious
illustrations.  Sometimes I played their organ.  By the time my leg was
healed so I could walk, I found I liked their quiet life, the artwork
they gave me to do, the music I played at dawn and sunset, the silent
routine of In that monastery, high in the mountains, I fina found
peace."  | His story was over.  He sat looking at Chris, th| turned his
pale but burning eyes on me.  j Startled by his penetrating gaze, I
tried not to shriq away and show the revulsion I couldn't help feeling|
didn't like him, even though he faintly resembled q| father I'd loved
so well, and certainly I had no reasq to dislike him.  I suspected it
was my own anxiety aij fear that he'd know that Chris was really my
brothj and not my husband.  Had Bart told him our story?  Cg he see how
Chris resembled the Fbxworths?  I coukb| really tell.  He was smiling
at me, using his own kind| failing charm to win me over.  Already he
was wi| enough to know it wouldn't be Chris he had convince... "Why did
you come back?"  asked Chris.

Again Joel tried to smile.

"One day an journalist came to the monastery to write story about what
it was like to be a monk modem world.  Since I was the only one there
spoke English, they used me to represent all of them., casually asked
if he'd ever heard of the Fbxworths c Virginia.  He had, since Malcolm
had made a hull fortune and was often involved in politics, and on|
then did I team of his death, and that of my mo the Once die journalist
had gone, I couldn't stop thinkin about this house and my sister. Years
can easily bled one into the other when all days are alike, and calef
dars weren't kept in sight.  Finally came a day when resolved that I
wanted to go home again and talk to m> sister and get to know her.  The
journalist hadBr mentioned rf she had married.  It wasn't until after
came to the village, almost a year ago, and settled hm a motel that I
heard of how the original house hi burned one Christmas night and my
sister had been pd away in a mental rest home, and all that tremendou
fortune had been left to her.  It wasn't until Bart cam died, how he
inherited."

His eyes lowered modestly.

"Bart is a very remark able young man; I enjoy his company.  Before he
came, I used to spend a lot of my time up here, talking to the
caretaker.  He told me about Bart and his many visits to talk to the
builders and decorators, how he had ex pressed his desire to make this
new house look exactly like the old one.  I made it my business to be
here when Bart came^ the next time.  We met, I told him who I was, and
he seemed overjoyed .. . and that's the whole of it."

Really?  1 stared ai him hard.  Had he come back thinking he'd have his
share of the fortune Malcolm had left?  Could he break my mother's will
and take away a good portion for himself?  H he could, I wondered why
Bart wasn't very upset to know he was still alive.

I didn't put any of my thoughts into words, just sat on, as Joel fell
into a long, moody silence.  Chris stood up.

"It's been a full day for us, Joel, and my wife is very tired.  Could
you show us to the rooms we are to use so we can rest and refresh
ourselves?"

Instantly Joel was on his feet, apologizing for being a poor host, and
then he was leading the way to the stairs.

"I will be happy to see Bart again.  He was very generous to offer me a
room in this house.  However, all these rooms remind me too much of my'
parents  My room is over the garage, near the servants' quarters."

Just then the telephone rang.  Joel handed me the telephone.

"It's your older son calling from' New York," he said in that stiff,
gritty voice.

"You can use the phone in the first salon if both of you want to talk
to him."

Chris hurried to pick up another phone as I greeted Jory.  His happy
voice dispelled some of the gloom and depression I was already
feeling.

"Mom, Dad, I've managed to cancel a few commitments, and Mel and I and
need a vacation.  Besides, we'd like to gei that house we've heard so
much about.  Is it the original?"

Oh, yes, only too much so.  I was filled with Jory and Melodie were
coming to join us, an Cindy and Bart arrived, too, we'd be a comp let
again, all living under the same roof--sornei hadn't known in a long
time.

"No, of course I don't mind giving up perfonni] a while," he said
cheerfully in answer to my i "I'm tired.  Even my bones feel weak with
fat both need a good rest..  . and we have some you."

He'd say nothing more.

We hung up, and Chris and I smiled at each Joel had retreated to give
us privacy, and n reappeared, tottering uncertainly around a French
table with a huge marble um filled with.

flower arrangement, speaking of the suite of Bart had planned for my
use.  He glanced at me, Chris before he added, "And for you as we Joel
swiveled his watery eyes to study my expressioj seeming to find
something there that pleased him.  J Linking my arm with Chris's, I
bravely faced tlj stairs that would take us up, up, and back to thj
second floor where it had all begun, this wonderful sinful love that
Chris and I had found in the dusty decaying attic gloom, in a dark
place full of junk an old furniture, with paper flowers on the wall ad
broken promises at our feet.  i

Midway up the stairs I paused to look down, wanting to see something
that might have slipped my notice before.

Even as Joel had told us his story, and we'd eaten our sparse lunch,
I'd stared at everything I'd seen but twice before, and never had I
seen enough.  From the room where we'd been, I could easily took into
the foyer with its myriad minors and fine French furniture placed
stiffly in small groupings that tried unsuccessfully to be intimate.
The marble floor gleamed like glass from many polishings.  I felt the
overwhelming desire to dance, dance, and pirouette until I blindly
fell... Chris grew impatient as I lingered and tugged me upward until
at last we were in the grand rotunda and again I was staring down into
the ballroom-foyer.

"Cathy, are you lost in memories?"  whispered Chris, somewhat
crossly.

"Isn't it time we both forget the past and move on?  Come, I know you
must be very tired."

Memories..  . they came at me fast and furious.

Cory, Carrie, Bartholomew Winslow--I sensed them all around me,
whispering, whispering.  I glanced again at Joel, who'd told us he
didn't want us to call him Uncle Joel.  He was saving that
distinguished title for my children.

He must look as Malcolm did, only his eyes were softer, less piercing
than those we'd seen in that huge, life size portrait of him in the
"trophy" room.  I told myself that not all blue eyes were cruel and
heartless.

Certainly I should know that better than anyone.

Openly studying the aged face before me, I could still see the remnants
of the younger man he'd ogee been.  A man who must have had flaxen
blond hair and a face this I relaxed and forced myself to, step forward
embrace him.

"Welcome home, Joel."

His frait old body in my arms felt brittle and cold.;

cheek was dry as my lips barely managed a kiss the He shrank from me as
if contaminated by my touch, perhaps he was afraid of women.  I jerked
aw resetting now that I'd made an attempt to be we and friendly.
Touching was something no Fbxworth i supposed to do unless there was a
marriage certific first.  Nervously my eyes fled to meet Chris's, Ci
down, his eyes were saying, it's going to be all righ "My wife is very
tired," reminded Chris sot "We've had a very busy schedule what with
seeing < youngest son graduate, and all the parties, and tl this
trip..."

Joel finally broke the long, stiff silence that kept standing
uncomfortably in the dim upstairs rotunda.

mentioned that Bart would be hiring servants  Aire, he'd called an
employment agency, and, in fact, J even said we could screen people for
him.  He mumb so inaudibly that I didn't catch half of what he said
especially when my mind was so busy with speculation as I stared off
toward' the northern wing and that isolated end room where we'd been
locked up.  Would I still be the same?  Had Bart ordered two double put
in there, with all that clutter of dark, antique furniture?  I hoped
and prayed not.

Suddenly from Joel came words I wasn't, for.

"You took lifce your mother, Catherine."" I stared at him blankly,
resenting what he must have^j considered a compliment.  1 He kept
standing there, as if waiting for some silent summons, looking from me
to Chris, and then back to me before he nodded and tamed to lead the
way to our room.  The sun that had shone so brilliantly foroul1!

arrival was a forgotten memory as the rain began to pelt down with the
hard, steady drive of bullets on the slate roof.  The thunder ruUed and
crashed overhead, sending me into Chris's arms as I cringed back from
what seemed to me the wrath of God.

Rivulets of water ran on the windowpanes, sluiced down from the roof
into drains that soon would flood the gardens and erase all that was
alive and beautiful.  I sighed and felt miserable to be back here where
I felt young and terribly vulnerable again.

"Yes, yes," Joel muttered as 8 to himself, "just tike Corrine."  His
eyes scanned me critically once more, and then he was bowing his head
and reflecting so long five minutes could have passed.  Or five
seconds.

"We have to unpack," Chris said more forcefully.

"My wife is exhausted.  She needs a bath, then a nap, for traveling
always makes her feel tired and dirty."  I wondered why he bothered to
explain.

Instantly Joel pulled himself back from where he'd been.  Maybe monks
often just stood with bowed heads and prayed, and lost themselves in
silent worship, and that was all it meant.  I didn't know anything at
all about monasteries and the kind of lives monks lived.

Slow, shuffling feet were at last leading us down a long hall.  He made
another tarn, and to my distress and dismay he headed toward the
southern wing where once our mother had lived in sumptuous rooms.  I'd
longed to sleep in her glorious swan bed, sit at her long, long
dressing table, bathe in her black marble sunken tub with minors
overhead and all around.

Joel paused before the double doors above two wide, carpeted steps that
curved outward in half-moons.  He smiled in a slow, peculiar way.

"Your mother's wing," he said shortly.

I paused and shivered outside those too familiar double doors.
Helplessly I looked back at Chris.  The rain had calmed to a steady
staccato drumming.  Joel opened one side of the doors and stepped into
the bedroom, giving Chris we chance to whisper to me, "To him we are
only husband and wife, Cathy that's all he knows."

--and then I was staring bug-eyed at what I'd thougl burned in the
fire.  The bed!  The swan bed with tt fancy rosy bed curtains held back
gracefully by the tif of wing feathers made into curling fingers.  That
graa ful swan head had the same twist of its neck, the sam kind of
watchful but sleepy red ruby eye half open t guard the occupants of the
bed.

I stared disbelievingly.  Sleep in that bed?  The be where my mother
had been held in the amis ( Bartholomew Winslow--her second husband? Th
same man I'd stolen from her to father my son Bart The man who still
haunted my dreams and filled m with guilt.  No!  I couldn't steep in
that bed!  Not ever Once I'd longed to sleep in that swan bed wit
Bartholomew Winslow.  How young and foolish I' been then, thinking
material things really did brin happiness, and having him for my own
would be all I' ever want.

"Isn't that bed a marvel?"  asked Joel from behin me.

"Bart went to a great deal of trouble to fin artisans who'd hand carve
the headboard in the form c a swan.  They looked at him, so he said, as
if hewer crazy.  But he found some old men who were delighte to be
doing something they found uniquely creativf and financially
rewarding..  It seems Bart has detaile descriptions of how the swan
should have its hea turned.  One sleepy eye set with a ruby.  Fingertr
feathers to hold back filmy bed curtains.  Oh, the nun- he made when
they didn't do it right the first time.  An then the little swan bed at
the foot, he wanted that, toe For you, Catherine, for you."

Chris spoke, his voice hard.

"Joel, just what has Bai told you' He stepped beside me and encircled m
shoulders with the comfort of his arm, protecting m from Joel, from
everything.  With him I'd live in thatched hut, a teat, a cave.  He
gave me strength.

The old man's smile was faint and sardonic as he too notice of Chris's
protective attitude.

"Bartconfided a;

an older man to talk to."

He paused meaningfully, glancing at Chris, who couldn't foil to catch
the implication.  Despite his control I saw him wince.  Joel seemed
satisfied enough to continue.

"Bart told me about how his mother and her brothers and a sister were
locked away for more than three years.  He told me that his mother took
her sister, Carrie, the twin left alive, and ran off to South Carolina,
and you, Catherine, took years and years to find just the right husband
to suit your needs best--and that's why you are now married to ... Dr.
Christopher There were so many innuendoes in his words, so much he left
unsaid.  Enough to make me shiver with sudden cold.

Joel finally left the room and closed the door softly behind him.  Only
then could Chris give me the reassurance I had to have if I was to stay
here for even one night.  He kissed me, held me, stroked my back, my
hair, soothed me until I could turn around and took at everything Bart
had done to make this suite of rooms just as luxurious as they'd been
before.

"It's only a bed, a reproduction of the original," Chris said softly,
his eyes warm and understanding.

"Our mother has not lain on this bed, darling.  Bart read your scripts,
remember that.  What's here is here because you constructed the pattern
for him to follow.  You described that swan bed in such exquisite
detail that he must have believed , you wanted rooms just like our
mother used to have.

Maybe unconsciously you still do, and he knows that.

Forgive us both for misunderstanding if I'm, wrong.

Think only that he wanted to please you and went to a great deal of
trouble and expense to decorate this room as it used to be."

Numbly I shook my head, denying I'd ever wanted what she had.  He
didn't believe me.

"Your wishes, Catherine!  Your desire to have everything she did!  I
for being able to interpret your desires even when cover them with
clever subterfuges."

I wanted to hate him for knowing me so well.  Yet arms went around him.
My face pressed against shirtfront as I trembled and tried to hide the
tr even from myself.

"Chris, don't be harsh with me sobbed.

"It came as such a surprise to see these roe almost as they used to be
when we came here to s from her ... and her husband ..."

He held me hard against him.

"What do you're feel about Joel?"  I asked.

Considering thoughtfully before he answered, C spoke.

"I like him, Cathy.  He seems sincere overjoyed that we're willing to
let him stay on her "You told him he could stay?"  I whispered.

"Sure, why not?  We'll be leaving soon after Bart that twenty-fifth
birthday when he 'comes into own."  And just think of the wonderful
opportu we'll have to learn more about the Fbxworths.  Joel tell us
more about our mother when she was young, what life was like for all of
them, and perhaps when know the details, we will be able to understand
how could betray us, and why the grandfather wantec dead.  There has to
be an awful truth hidden back in past to warp Malcolm's brain so he
could override mother's natural instincts to keep her own chilc
alive."

In my opinion Joel had said enough down stair didn't want to know more.
Malcolm Foxworth been one of those strange humans born without (
science, unable to feel remorse for any wrong thinj did.  There was no
explaining him, and no wa) understand.

Appeanngly Chris gazed into nay eyes, making heart and soul vulnerable
for my scorn to injure."

like to hear about our mother's youth, Cathy, so I understand what made
her the way she turned ou be.  She wounded us so deeply I feel neither
one o forgiven her, but I can't forget.  I want to understand so *I can
help you to forgive her ..."

'. "Will that help?"  I asked sarcastically.

"It's too late for understanding or forgiving our mother, and, to be
honest, I don't want to find understanding--for if I do, I might have
to forgive her."

His arms dropped stiffly to his sides.  Turning, he I strode away from
me.

"I'm going out for our' k now.  Take a bath, and by the time you're ""
I..have everything unpacked."  At the d t "paused, not turning to look
my way.

"Try, really try, to j use this as an opportunity to make peace with
Bart.

r He's not beyond restoration, Cathy.  You heard mm behind the podium.
That young man has a remarkable ability for oratory.  His words make
good sense.  He's a leader now, Cathy, when he used to be so shy and |
introverted.  We can count it a blessing that at last Bart has come out
of his shell."

Humbly I bowed my head.

"Yes, m do what I can.

Forgive me, Chris, for being unreasonably strongwilled--again."

He smiled and left.

In "her" bath that joined a magnificent dressing room, I slowly
disrobed while the black marble sunken tub filled.  All about me were
gold-framed mirrors to reflect back my nudity.  I was proud of my
figure, still slim and firm, and my breasts that didn't sag.  Stripped
of everything, 1 lifted ray arms to take out the few hairpins still
left.  D6j& vu-like, I pictured my mother as she must have stood, doing
this same thing while she thought of her second and younger husband.
Had she wondered where he was on die nights he spent with me?  Had she
known just who Bart's mistress was before my revelations at the
Christmas party?  Oh, I hoped she had!

An unremarkable dinner came and went, Two hows later I was m the swan
bed that had given his word, he'd unpacked everything, hung my clotq as
well as his own and stowed our underwear in || bureau.  Now he looked
tired, slightly unhappy.

"Jl| told me there will be servants coming for interviij tomorrow.  I
hope you feel up to that."  1 Startled, I sat up.

"But I thought Bart would do5 own hiring."

"No, he's leaving that up toyou."

"Oh."

Chris hung his suit on the brass valet, again maldj me think of how
much that valet seemed the same <| Bart's father bad used when he lived
here--or in Us other Fbxworth Hall.  Haunted, that's what I was.  Sq
naked, Chris headed for the "his" bath.

"I'll tak| quick shower and join you shortly.  Don't fall aslo| until
I'm through."  | I lay in the semidarkness and stared around fl|
feeling strangely out of myself.  In and out of my motlJ I flitted,
sensing four children in a locked room ow| head in the attic.  Feeling
the panic and guilt that sur| must have been hers while that mean old
father belq lived on and on, threatening even when he was out | sight.
Born bad, wicked, evil.  It seemed I heard| whispery voice saying this
over and over again.  I doaj my eyes and tried to stop this craziness.
I didn't he any voices.  I didn't hear ballet music playing, I didn'C
couldn't smell the dry, musty scent of the attics couldn't.  I was
fifty-two years old, not twelve, thirteei fourteen or fifteen.  ^ All
the old odors were gone.  I smelled only ne paint, new wood, freshly
applied wallpaper and fabri New carpets, new scatter rugs, new
furniture.  Everi thing new but for the fancy antiques on the first
flod Not the real Foxworth Hall, only an imitation.  Yet, w( bad Joel
come back if he liked being a monk so mud Certainly he couldn't want
all that money when he' grown accustomed to BaenaStery austerity. 
There mu be some good reason *e was here other than ju villagers must
have told him our mother was dead, still he'd stayed.  Waiting his
chance to meet Bart?  What had be found in Bart that kept him staying
on?  Even allowing Bart to put him to use as a butler until we had a
real one. Then I sighed.  Why was I making such a mystery of this when
a fortune was involved.  Always it seemed money was the reason for
doing anything and everything.

Fatigue closed my eyes.  I fought off sleep.  I needed this time to
dunk of tomorrow, of this uncle come from nowhere.  Had we finally
gained all that Momma had promised, only to lose it to Joel?  M he
didn'ttry to break Momma's will, and we managed to keep what we had,
would it carry a price?  , ."

In the morning Cons and I descended the right side of the dual
staircase, feeling we had at long last come into "our own" and we were
finally in control of our lives.  He caught my hand and squeezed it,
sensing from my expression that this house no longer intimidated me. ;.
-',..:..- 1, '.."  .. :.," -: " -; --^ ^ We found Joel in the khchen
busily preparing breakfast.

He wore a long white apron and cocked on his head was a tall chefs cap.
Somehow it looked ludicrous on such a frail, tall, old man.  Only fat
men should be chefs, I thought, even as I felt grateful to have him
take on a chore Tdnever really nked.

"I hope you like Eggs Benedict,"said Joel without glancing our way.  To
my surprise, his Eggs Benedict were wonderful.  "Chris had two
servings.  Then Joel was showing us rooms not yet decorated.  He smiled
at me crookedly.

"Bart told me you like informal rooms with comfortable furniture, and
he wants you to make these empty rooms cozy, in your own inimitable
style."

Was he mockiagme?  He knew Chris and I were here only for a visit. Then
I realized perhaps Bart might want me to help with the decorating and
was reluctant to say so himself.  ^ " When I asked- Chris if Joel could
break our mother's for his self-esteem, Chris shook his head, admittuij
really didn't know all the ins and outs of legal ram ii tions when a
"dead" heir came back to life.

"Bart could give Joel enough money to see through the few years he has
left," I said, wracking brain to remember every word of my mother's
last and testament.  No mention of her older broth whom she'd believed
dead.

When I came back from my thoughts, Joel was in kitchen again, having
found what he wanted in pantry stocked with enough to feed a hotel He
spin reply to a question Chris had asked and I ha heard.  His voice was
somber.

"Of course, the he isn't exactly the same, for no one uses wooden pegs
nails anymore.  I put all the old furniture in my qi ters.  I don't
really belong, so I'm going to stay in servants' quarters ever the
garage."

"I've already said you shouldn't do that," said C with a frown.

"It just wouldn't be right to let a fai member live in such frugal
style."  Already we'd s the huge garage, and the servants' quarters ab
could hardly be called frugal, just small.  :

Let him!  I wanted to shout, but I said nothing.

Before 1 knew what was happening, Chris had .

established on the second floor in the western win sighed, somehow
regretful that Joel would be under same roof with us.  But it would be
all right; as sooi our curiosity was satisfied and Bart celebrated
birthday, we'd leave with Cindy for Hawaii.

In the library around two in the afternoon, Chris I settled down to
interview the man and woman i came with excellent references.  There
wasn't any fai could find, except something furtive in both pain eyes.
Uneasily I fidgeted from the way they toofcu knowingty at both of us.

"Sorry," said Chris, catd the slight negative gesture I made, "but
we've aire decided on another couple."

Husband and wife stood up to go.  The woman tur jg the doorway to give
me a long, meaningful look.

"I

live in the village, Mrs.  Sheffield," she said coldly.

"Been there only five years, but we've heard a great deal about the
Poxworths who live on the hill."

What she said made me turn my head away.

"Yes, I'm sure you have," said Chris dryly.

The woman snorted before she slammed the door behind them.

Next came a tall, aristocratic man with upright military bearing,
immaculately dressed down to the slightest detail.  He strode in and
politely waited until Chris asked him to sit down.

"My name is Trevor Mainstream Majors," he said in his brisk British
style.

"I was born in Liverpool fifty nine years ago.  I was married in London
when I was twenty-six, and my wife passed away three years ago, and my
two sons live in North Carolina ... so I am here hoping I can work in
Virginia and visit my sons on my days off."

"Where did you work after you left the Johnstons?"

asked Chris, looking down at the man's resume.

"You seem to have excellent references until one year ago."

By this time Chris had invited the Englishman to seat himself.  Trevor
Majors shifted his long legs and adjusted his tie before he replied
politely, "I worked for the Millersons, who moved away from the Hill
about six months ago."

Silence.  I'd heard my mother mention the Millersons many times.  My
heart began to beat more rapidly.

"How long did you work for the Millersons?"  asked Chris in a friendly
way, as if he had no fears, even after having caught my look of
anxiety.

"Not long, sir.  They had five of their own children there, and nephews
and nieces were always showing up, plus friends who stayed over for
visits.  I was their only servant.  I did the cooking, the housework,
the laundry, the chauffeuring, and it's an Englishman's pride and joy
to do the gardening.  What with chauffeuring the five children back
and forth to school, dancing classes, sporting events, flicks and
such, so much time on the road I seldom had the i' prepare a decent
meal.  One day Mister complained I'd failed to mow the lawn ai weeded
the garden, and he hadn't eaten a good i home in two weeks  He snapped
at me harshly t _ his dinner was late.  Sir, that was rather much, win
wife had ordered me out on the road, kept me while she shopped, sent me
to pick up the childrea the movies ... and then I was supposed to have
c on time.  I told Mi.  Millerson Iwasn't a robot able everything, and
all at once--and I quit.  He < angry he threatened he'd never give me a
good ence.  But if you wait a few days, he may cool enough to realize I
did the best I could under dr circumstances."

I sighed, looked at Chris and made a furtive s This man was perfect.
Chris didn't even took my "I think you will work out fine.  Mister
Majors.

hire you for a trial period of one month, and if a time we find you
unsatisfactory, we will terminal employment agreement."

Chris looked at me.

"That is, if my wife agrees Silently I stood and nodded.  We did need
serva didn't intend to spend my vacation dusting and cle a huge
house.

"Sir, my lady, if you will, just call me Trevor.  ] be my honor and
pleasure to serve in this j house."  He'd jumped to his feet the moment
I s and then, as Chris rose, he and Chris shook hands.

pleasure indeed," be said as he smiled at us approvingly.

In three dAte hired three servants.  It was enough wheB'BaNaiffiB
highly overpaying them.

The eveningiof oar fifth full day here, I stood b Chris on the Nkson^
staring at the mountaii around us, gaziog.rtnat that same old moon that
us look down Qa^iiC^we'lay on the roof of thi Boxworth Ha^ ^itt^lBsgle
great eye of Go

-HA^."^'

^AM^As telieved when 1 was fifteen.  Other places had given me
gfliantic moons, beautiful moonlight to take away my tars and guilts.
Here I felt the moon was a harsh gvestigator, ready to condemn us
again, and then gain and again.

'"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"  asked Chris with his ym about my
waist.

"I like this balcony that Bart rided to our suite of rooms.  It doesn't
distract from the mt side appearance since it's on the side, and just
look at the view it gives us of the mountains."

I The blue-misted mountains had always represented |to me a jagged
fence to keep us forever trapped as Eprisoners of hope.  Even now I saw
their soft rounded I tops as a barrier between me and freedom.  God, if
I you're up there, help me through the next few weeks.

1 Near noon the next day, Chris and I, with Joel, stood i on the front
portico, watching the low-slung red Jaguar , speeding up the steeply
spiraling road that led to pox worth Hall.

Bart drove with reckless, daredevil speed, as if challenging death to
take him.  I grew weak just watching the way he whipped around the
dangerous curves.

"God knows he should have better sense," Chris grumbled.

"He's always been accident prone--and look at the way he drives, as if
he's got a hold on immortality."

"There are some who do," said Joel enigmatically.

I threw him a wondering glance, then looked again at that small red car
that had cost a small fortune.  Every year Bart bought a new car, never
any color but red;

he'd tried all the luxury cars to find which he liked best.

This one was his favorite so far, he'd informed us in a brief letter.

Squealing to a stop, he burned rubber and spoiled the perfection of the
curving drive with long black streaks.  Waving first, Bart threw off
his sunglasses, shook his head to bring his dark tumbled locks back
into order, ignored the door and jumped from his convertible, pulling
off driving gloves and carelessly onto the seat.  Racing up the steps,
I me up in his strong arms and planted several my cheeks.  I was
stunned with the warmth greeting.  Eageriy I responded.  The moment a
touched his cheek he put me down and shoved o as if he tired of me very
rapidly, a He stood in fall sunlight, six feet three, h intelligence
and strength in his dark brown eyal shoulders broad, his well-muscled
body taperingi to slim hips and long legs.  He was so handsome I casual
white sports outfit.

"You're looking great, Ii er, just great.  His dark eyes swept over me
from | to hair.

"Thanks for wearing that red dress ... it" favorite color."

I reached for Chris's hand.

"Thank you, Bart, I' this dress just for you."  Now he could say some)
nice to Chris, I hoped.  I waited for that.  Instead,!

ignored Chris and turned to Joel.

"Hi, Uncle Joel.  Isn't my mother just as beaut said?"

Chris's hand clenched mine so hard it hurt.

Bart found a way to insult the only father he remember.

"Yes, Bart, your mother is very beautiful," said <_ in that whispery,
raspy voice.

"In fact, she's exactly!

way I would imagine my sister Corrine looked at 1 age."  ^ "Bart, say
hello toyour--" and here I faltered| wanted to say Father but I knew
Bart would deny tfi rudely.  So I said C/irw.  Turning his dark and
some tim savage eyes briefly to stare at Chris, Bart bit out a hat
hello.  "you don't ever age either, do you?"  be said an accusatory
tone.  , "I'm sorry about that, Bart," answered Chris eveni "But time
will do its job eventually."

"Let's hope so."

I could have slapped Bart.

Turning around, Bart ignored both Chris and meal

8t

the lawns, the house, the luxurious flower ^ 'the lush shrubbery, the
garden paths, the bird is and other statuary, and smiled with an
owner's ^ "It's grand, really grand.  Just as I hoped h would "I've
looked the world over and no mansion can ip are with Foxworth Hall."

Us dark eyes moved to clash with mine.

"I know it you're thinking.  Mother, I know this isn't truly best house
yet, but one day it will be.  I intend to 1, and add new wings, and one
day this house will hine every palace in Europe.  I'm going to concen;
my energies on making Foxworth HaB truly anjric landmark."

^Who will you impress when you accomplish that?"

Bd Chris.

"The world no longer tolerates great uses and great wealth, or respects
those who gain it inheritance."

"Oh, damn it!  Chris so seldom said anything tactless rude.  Why had he
said what he did?  Bart's face ed beneath his deep bronze tan.

"I intend to ;ase my fortune with my own efforts!"  Bart flared, ping
closer to Chris.  Because he was so lean, and s had put on weight,
especially in the chest, he sared to tower over Chris.  I watched the
man I night of as my husband stare challengingly into my Eton's eyes.

e "I've been doing that for you," said Chris.

To my surprise, Bart seemed pleased.

"You mean as trustee you have increased my share of the inheritance?"

"Yes, it was easy enough," Said Chris laconically.

"Money makes money, and the investments I made for you have paid off
handsomely."

"Ten to one I could have done better."

Chris smiled ironically.

"I could have predicted you'd thank me like that."

From one to the other I looked, feeling sorry for both of them.  Chris
was a mature man who knew who and what he was, and he could ride along
on that confidence with ease, while Bart was still struggling to find
I and his place in the world.

My son, my son, when will you learn hi gratitude?  Many a night I'd
seen Chris working < figures, trying to decide on the best investments,
he knew that sooner or later Bart would accuse nil poor financial
judgment.

"You'll have your chance to prove yourself s enough," Chris responded.
He turned to me.

"I

take a walk, Cathy, down to the lake."

"Wait a minute," called Bart, appearing furious i we'd leave when he'd
just come home.  I was 1 between wanting to escape with Chris and the
desire 1 please my son.

"Where's Cindy?"  j "She'll be coming soon," I called back.

"Right o Cindy is visiting a girlfriend's home.  You might interested
to learn that Jbry is going to bring Mek> here for a vacation."

Bart just stood there staring at me, perhaps appall with the idea, and
then came that strange excitement replace all other emotions on his
handsome, tan ne face.

"Bart," I said, resisting Chris's desire to hurry a away from a known
source of trouble, "the house truly beautiful.  All that you've done to
change it * been a wonderful improvement."

Again he appeared surprised.

"Mother, you it's not exactly the same?  I thought it was..."

"Oh, no, Bart.  The balcony outside our suite rooms wasn't there
before."

Bart whirled on his great-uncle.

"You told me was!"  he shouted, j Smiling sardonically, Joel stepped
forward.

"Bart,1 my son, I didn't lie.  I never lie.  the original Hall did have
that balcony.  My father's mother ordered it put there.  And by using
that balcony, she was able to sneak in her lover without the servants
seeing.  Later she rans off with that lover without waking her husband,
who kept their bedroom door locked and the key hidden.

Malcolm ordered the balcony torn down when he was

. owner ... but it does add a certain kind of charm Jthat side of the
house."

^Satisfied, Bart turned again to Chris and me.

"See, other, you don't know anything at all about this e..  Uncle Joel
is the expert.  He's described to me in t detail all the furniture, the
paintings, and, in the I'll have not only the same, but better than the
nnal."

Bart hadn't changed.  He was still obsessed, still wanting to be a
carbon copy of Malcolm Fbxworth, if t in looks, in personality and in
determination to be ; richest man in the world, no matter what he did
to it hat title,

My Second Son

Not long after Bart arrived home, he began making elaborate plans for
his upcoming birthday party.  Apparently, to my surprise and delight,
he'd made many friends in Virginia during the summer vacations he'd
spent here.  It used to hurt that he spent such a few of his vacation
days with us in California, where I had considered he belonged.  But
now it seemed he knew people we'd never heard of, and had met young men
and women m college that he intended to invite down to help him
celebrate.

I'd only spent a few days at Fbxworth Hall and already the monotony of
days with nothing to do but eat, sleep, read, look at TV, and roam the
gardens and woods had me on edge and eager to escape as soon as
possible.  The deep silence of die mountainside gripped me in its spell
of isolation and despair.  The silence wore on my nerves.  I wanted to
hear voices, many voices, hear the telephone ring, have people drop in
and say hello, and nobody did.  There was a group of local society
members that had known the Poxworths < and this was the very group
Chris and I had to w There were old friends in New York and California
I wanted to call and invite to Bart's party, but I di dare without
Bart's approval.  Restlessly I prowled grand rooms alone, and sometimes
with Chris.  He I walked the gardens, strolled through the woods, q
sometimes, garrulous others.

He had his old hobby of water coloring to b again, and that kept him
busy, but I wasn't suppose dance anymore.  Nevertheless I did my,
ballet exen every day of my LIFE just to keep myself slim and sup and
willingly enough I'd pose when he asked me to that.  Joel came upon me
once as I held on to a cha our sitting room, exercising in red
leotards.  I he arc gasp from the open doorway and turned to find
staring at me as if I were naked.

"What's wrong' asked worriedly.

"Has something terrible happene He threw his thin, long, pale hands
wide, his expressive as he scanned over my body with con lei "Aren't
you a little old to try to be seductive?"

"Have you ever heard of exercise, Joel?"  I as impatiently.

"You don't have to enter this wing.

stay away from our rooms and your eyes won't b scandalized."

"You are disrespectful to someone older and was he said sharply.

"If I am, I apologize.  But your words and 5 expression offend me.  If
there is to be peace in house during our visit, stay away from me,
Joel, wham in my own wing.  This huge house has more t enough space to
give us all privacy without closing doors."

He stiffly turned away, but not before I'd seen indignation in his
eyes.  I hurried to stare after I wondering if I could be mistaken, and
he was on harmless old man who couldn't mind his own busin But I didn't
call out to apologize.  Instead I took off leotards, put on shorts and
a top, and with thought

jory and his wife coming soon comforting me, I went to Odd Chris.  I
hesitated outside Bart's office door and | listened to him talking to
the caterer, planning for a | minimum of two hundred guests.  Just
listening to him made me feel numb inside.  Oh, Bart, you don't realize
some won't come, and if they do.  Lord help us all.

As I continued to stand there, I heard him name several of us invited
guests, and they were not all from this country.  Many were notables
from Europe that he'd met on his tours.  Throughout his college days
he'd been tireless in his efforts to see the world and to meet
important people, people who ruled and dominated either with political
power, brains, or financial wizardry  I thought his restlessness was
due to his inability to be happy in one place, and he was always
longing for the next greener, farther field.

"They'll all come," he said to the party on the other end of the
line.

"When they read my invitation, they won't be able to decline."

He hung up, then swung his chair about to face me.

"Mother!  Ate you eavesdropping?"

"It's a habit Icaught from you, my darling."

He scowled.  ' "Bart, why don't you just make your party a family
affair?  Or invite just your best friends.  The villagers around here
won't want to come.  According to the tales my mother used to tell us,
they have always disliked the Fbxworths, who had too much when they had
too little.

The Fbxworths came and went while the villagers had to stay.  And
please don't include the local society, even if Joel has told you they
are his friends, and therefore yours and ours.

"Afraid that your sins will be found out.  Mother?"

he asked without mercy.  1 was accustomed to this, but nevertheless I
recoiled inwardly.  Was it so terrible tint Chris and I lived together
as man and wife?  Weren't the newspapers full of much worse crimes than
ours?

"Oh, come.  Mother, don't look like that.  Let's be happy for a
change."  His bronzed face took on a cheerful, excited look, as if
nothing I said would di his excitement.

"Mother, be excited for me, please.1 ordering the best of everything.
When the spreads around, and it will because my caterer is best in
Virginia, and he loves to boast, no one wil able to resist coming to my
party.  They'll hear sending to New York and to Hollywood for en tert
ers, and what's more, I'm sure everyone will wan see Jory and Melodic
dance."

Surprise and happiness filled me.

"Have you as them?"

"No, but how can my own brother and sister-iw refuse?  You see. Mother,
I'm planning to hold party outdoors in the garden, in the moonlight.  '
lawn& will be all lit up with golden globes.  I'm had fountains put
everywhere, and colored lights will j upon the sprinkling water. 
There'll be imported eh pagne by the crates, and every other liquor you
name.  The food will be the best.  I'm having a the, constructed in the
midst of a wonder world of fad where tables will be covered with
beautiful cloth;

every color.  Color upon color.  Flowers will be ban all over.  I'll
show the world just what a Fbxworth do."

On and on he enthused.

When I left his office and found Chris talking to of the gardeners, I
felt happy, reassured.  Perhaps was going to'be the summer when Bart
found him;

attest.

It would be as Chris had always predicted: I would not only inherit a
fortune, he would inherit sense of pride and worth and find himself ..
. and God he found the right self.

Two days later I was in his office again, seated in of his luxurious,
deep, leather chairs, amazed to how much he'd accomplished in his short
time ho;

Apparently all this special extra office equipment been ready and
waiting to be installed the moment was here to direct the placement.
The small bedrc

beyond the library he used for his office, where our detested
grandfather had lived until he died, had been converted into a room of
filing cabinets.  The room where our grandfather's nurses had stayed
became an office for Bart's secretary when or if he ever found one who
met his stiff requirements.  A computer dominated one long, curving
desk, with its two printers that typed out different letters even as
Bart and I conversed.  It had surprised me to see him typing faster
than I could.

The drumming of the printers was muffled by heavy plexiglass covers.

Proudly he showed me how he could keep in touch with the world white
staying at home, just by pushing buttons and joining up with a program
called "The Source."  Only then did I learn that one summer he'd taken
two months of computer programming.

"And, Mother, 1 can execute my buy and sell orders and avail myself of
expert technical and fundamental data just by using this computer. I'll
occupy my time that way until I open my own law firm."  B>r a moment he
looked reflective, even doubtful.  I still believed that he'd gone to
Harvard just because his father had.  Law held no real interest for him
at all; he was only interested in making money, and then more money.

"Don't you have sufficient money already, Bart?

What is it you can't buy?"

Something boyishly wistful and sweet visited his dark eyes.

"Respect, Mother.  I don't have any talent, like you, like Jory.  I
can't dance.  I can't draw a decent representation of a flower, much
less draw the human form."  He was referring indirectly to Chris and
his painting hobby.

"When I visit an art museum, Pm baffled by everyone's awe.  I don't see
anything wonderful about the "Mona Lisa."  I see only a bland-faced,
rather plain-looking woman who couldn't have been exciting.  I don't
appreciate classical music, any kind of music .. . and I've been told I
have a rather good singing voice.  I used to try and sing when I was a
kid.

Goofy kind of kid, wasn't I?  Must have given you a million laughs."
He grinned appealingly, then spr his arms supplicatingly.

"I have no artistic talents,.

so I fall back upon the kind of figures I can reai understand, those
representing dollars and cents.  I li around in museums, and the only
things I see to adn are jewels."

Sparkle came to his dark eyes.

"The glitter and gk of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls .. . all that
I appreciate.  Gold, mountains of gold--that I can unc stand.  I see
the beauty in gold, silver, copper and Do you know I visited Washington
just to watch g minted into coins?  I felt a certain kind of elation, s
one day all that gold would be mine."

Admiration faded and pity for him flooded i "What about women, Bart?
What about love?

family?  Good friends?  Children?  Don't you hope to in love and
marry?"

He stared at me blankly for a moment or drumming his strong,
square-nailed fingertips on desktop before he got up to stand before a
wide wal windows, staring out at the gardens and beyond tli the
blue-misted mountains.

"I've experienced s Mother.  I didn't expect to enjoy it, but I did.  I
felt body betrayed my will.  But I've never been in lovi can't imagine
how it would be to devote myself to < woman when so many are beautiful
and only willing.  -I see a beautiful girl walk by, I turn and sti only
to find her turning and staring back at me.  It's easy to get them into
my bed.  No challenge at all."

paused and turned his head to look at me.

"I

women.  Mother, and sometimes I'm ashamed of i self.  I take them,
discard them, and even pre ten don't know them when I meet them again.
They all < up hating me."

He met my wide eyes with watchful challen "Aren't you shocked?"  he
asked pleasantly.

"Or ai just the churlish type you always expected?"

I swallowed, hoping this time I could say the ri thing.  In the past it
seemed I'd never said anything

4&

right.  I doubted anyone could say words that would change Bart from
what he was, and what he wanted to be ... if he even knew.

"I suspect you are a product of your times," I began in a soft voice,
without recriminations.

"I almost pity your generation for missing out on the most beautiful
aspect of falling in love.  Where is the romance in your kind of
taking, Bart?  What do you give to the women you go to bed with?  Don't
you know it takes time to build a loving, lasting relationship?  It
doesn't happen overnight One-night stands don't form commitments.  You
can look at a beautiful body and desire that body, buf that's w>t
love."

His burning eyes showed such intensity and interest I was encouraged to
go on, especially when he, asked, "How do you explain love?"

It was a trap he baited, knowing the loves of my life had all been
ill-fated.  Still I answered, hoping, to save him from all die mistakes
he was sure to make.

"I don't explain love, Bart.  I don't think anyone can.  It growl from
day to day from having contact with that other person who understands
your needs, and you under stand theirs.  It starts with a faltering
flutter that touches your heart and makes you vulnerable to everything
beautiful.  You see beauty where before you'dseen ugliness.  You feel
glowing inside, so happy without knowing why.  You appreciate what
before you'd ignored.  Your eyes meet with the eyes of the one you
love, and you see reflected in them your own feelings, your own hopes
and desires, and you're happy lust to be with that person.  Even when
you don't touch, you still feel the warmth of being with that one
person who fills all your thoughts.  Then one day you do touch.

Perhaps his hand, or her hand, and it feels good.  it doesn't even have
to be an intimate touch.  An excitement begins to grow, so you want to
be with that person, not to have sex ... just to be with them and
gradually grow toward one another.  You share your life in words before
you share your' body  Only then-do you start seriously thinking about
having sex with that person.  You begin to dream about it.  Still you
put waiting, waiting for the right moment.  You wai love to stay, to
never end.  So you go slowly, < toward the ultimate experience of your
life.  D day, minute by minute, second by second, and moment to moment
you anticipate that one pi knowing you won't be disappointed, knowing
person will be faithful, dependable ... even she's out of sight,
oryou'reoutofsight.  There's?

contentment, peace, happiness when you have ge love.  To be in love is
like turning on a light in t room.  All of a sudden everything becomes
brigt visible.  You're never alone because she loves yen youloveher." 4
1 paused for breath, saw his continued interes gave me the courage to
go on.

"I want that for Bait.  More than all the billions of tons of gold
world, more than all the jewels in vaults, I want 3 find a woadteriul
girl to love.  Fbrget money.  You enough.  Look around, open your eyes
and discov joys of living, and forget your pursuit of money.

Musingly, he said, "So that's the way worn about love and sex.  I
always wondered.  It's not a kind of feeling, I do know that... still,
what yo is interesting."

He turned away before he went on.

"Truthfi don't know just what I want out of life but money.  They tell
me I'll make an excellent att because I know how to debate.  Yet I
can't decide branch of law I want.  I don't want to be a cri lawyer
like my father was, for I'd often have to d tfa< e I know we^ guilty. I
couldn't do that.  I corporate faw would be a bore.  I've thought
pOBtics,aad this is the area I find most exciting, bigot my damned
psychological background to m;

wsot^..  'Asst^ew-caa I go into politics?"

Rising from behind his desk, he stepped enough tONcateh my hand m
his.

"I like what) telling me.  TeB file more about your loves, about' Ln
you loved best.  Was it Julian, your first husband?

^was it that wonderful doctor named Paul?  I think I ^^uld have loved
him if I could remember him.  He Kgrned you to give me his name.  I
wish I could see him Kmy memory, like Jory can, but I can't.  Jory
rememkrs him well.  He even remembers seeing my father."

rs manner turned very intense as he leaned to lock his mies with
mine.

"Tell me that you loved my father best.

win he was the one and only man who really seized your fart.  Don't
tell me you only used him-for your irenge against your mother!  Don't
tell me that you ^ed his love to escape from the love of your own p
couldn't speak.

liHis brooding, morose, dark: eyes studied me.

"Don't i|b realize yet that you and your brother have always |anaged
with your incestuous relationship to ruin and Kntaminate my life?  I
used to hope and pray someday pffla'd leave him, but it never happens.
I've adjusted to Bbc fact that the two of you are obsessed with one pa
other and perhaps enjoy your relationship more pecause it is against
the will of God."

t Snared again!  I rose to my feet, knowing he'd used JUs sweet voice
to beguile me into his trap.

pYes, I loved your father, Bart, don't you ever doubt pat.  I admit I
wanted revenge for all that our mother pad done to us, so I went after
ray stepfather.  Then, pben I had him, and I knew!  loved him, and he
loved ||ac, I felt I'd trapped myself as well as him.  He couldn't
parry me.  He loved me in one way--and my mother hi | Bother way.  He
was torn between us.  I decided to end g|s indecision by becoming
pregnant.  Even then he was ffldecided.  Only on the night when he
believed my Pory of being imprisoned by his own wifedid^ he turn |
against her and say he'd marry me.  I thought her | oney would bind ban
tee her forever, but he would 'have married me."  1 rose to leave.  Not
a word did Bartsay to give me a hint as to his thoughts.  At the door 1
turned to-took back at him.  He was seated again in his desk chair,
elbows on the blotter, his hands cradling his bow head.

"Do you think anyone will ever love me 1 myself and not for my money.
Mother?"

My heart skipped a beat.  , Yes/ Bart  But you won't find a girl around
hi who doesn't know you're very wealthy.  Why don'tji go away? Settle
in the Northeast or in the West.  it when you find a girl she won't
know you are m especially if you work as an ordinary lawyer ..." I He
looked up then.

"I've already had my suma changed legally.  Mother."  | Dread filled
me, and I didn't really need to a "What is your last name now?"  I
"Fbxworth," he said, confirming my suspick "After all, I can't be a win
stow when my father was i your husband.  And to keep Sheffield is
deceitful.  B wasn't my father, nor was your brother, thank God I
shivered and turned icy with apprehension.  1 was the first step...
turning himself into anod Malcolm, what I'd feared most.

"I wish you'd chos Winslow for your surname, Bart.  That would hi
pleased your dead father."  < "Yes, I'm sure," he said dryly.

"And I did consi< that seriously.  But in choosing Winstow, I would
for!

my legitimate right to the Fbxworth name.  It's a go name.  Mother, a
name respected by everyone exo those villagers, who don't count anyway.
I feel R worth Hall truly belongs to me without contaminatk without
guilt."  His eyes took on a brilliant, happy gto "You see, and Uncfe
Joel agrees, not everyone la me and thinks I am less man Jory."  He
paused to wa) my reaction.  I tried to show nothing.  He seem
disappointed.

"Leave, Mother.  I've got a long day work ahead of me."  ."-t I risked
his anger by lingering long enough to si "White you're shut away in
this office, Bart, I wanty to keep remembering your family loves you
very mm and au of us want what's best for you.  If more moi

will make you feel better about yourself, then make tour self the
richest man in the world.  Just find happless, that's all we want for
you.  Find your niche, just where you fit, that's the most important
thing."

Closing his office door behind me; I was headed for fjse stairs when I
almost bumped into Joel.  A guilty look flashed momentarily through the
blue of his watery eyes.  I guessed he'd been listening to Bart and me.
But hadn't I done the same thing inadvertently?

"I'm sorry I didn't see you in the shadows, Joel."

g "I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he said with a peculiar !|pok.

"Those who expect to hear evil will not be disappointed," and away he
scurried like an old church '(House, lean from lack of enough fuel to
feed his ppetite for making trouble.  He made me feel guilty, ashamed.
Suspicious, always so damned suspicious of anyone named Poxworth.

(Not that I didn't have just cause.

My first Son

Sx days before the party, Jory and Melodic flew into a local airport.
Chris and I were there to meet them with tike kind of enthusiasm you
saved for those you hadn't teen for years, and we'd parted less than
ten days ago.

fory was immediately chagrined because Bart hadn't oome along to
welcome them to his fabulous new ;ltome.

% "He's busy in the gardens, Jory, Melodic, and asked s to give you his
apologies" (although he hadn't).  Both looked at me as if they knew
differently.  Quickly I went We details of how Bart was supervising
hordes of Wrkmen come to change our lawns into paradise, or ^something
as near that as possible.

fory smiled to hear of such an ostentatious party; he preferred small,
intimate parties where everyone 1 each other.  He said pleasantly
enough, "Nothing under the sun.  Bart's always too busy when it corn me
and my wife."

I stared up into his face so like that of my ado la first husband,
Julian, who had also been my dai partner.  The husband whose memory
still hurt filled me with that same old tormenting guilt.  Guill I
tried to erase by loving his son best.

"Every tkn<S you you look more like your father."

We were seated side by side, as Melodic sat b Chris, and occasionally
said a few words to him.

laughed and put his arms about me, inclining his 4 handsome head to
brush my cheek with his warm "Mom ... you say that each and every time
yo me.  When am I going to reach the zenith of beitt father?"  i
Laughing, too, I released him and settled ba< cross my legs and stare
out at the beautiful country The rolling hills, the misty mountains
with thei hidden in the clouds.  Near Heaven, I kept thinki had to
force my attention back to Jory, who hi many virtues Julian had never
possessed, could i have possessed.  Jory was more like Chris in person
than like Julian, although that, too, filled me with i with shame, for
it could have been different bed Julian and I--but for Chris.  ^ At the
age of twenty-nine, Jory was a wondei handsome man, with long, strong,
beautiful legs firm, round buttocks that made all the women i when he
danced onto stage wearing tights.  Hist hair was blue-black and curly,
but not frizzy; bH exceptionally red and sensuously shaped, his mi
perfect slope with nostrils that could flare wide anger or passion.  He
had a hot temper he'd learn control a long taae ago, mostly because of
al control it took tor him to tolerate Bart.  Jory'sa beauty radiated
from him with an electric force, I de vnw.  His beauty was more than
mere handft

ss; he had the added strength of a certain spiritual ality and was
like Chris in his cheerful optimism, his th that all that happened in
his life had to be for the st..  ..

Jory wore his success with grace, with touching mility and dignity,
displaying none of the arrogance at had been Julian's even when he had
performed orly.

So far Melodic had said very little, as if she contained ilumes of
secrets she was dying to spill out, but for me reason was holding back,
awaiting her opportunito be center stage.  Customarily my
daughter-in-law id I were very good friends.  Countless times she is
ted around in the front seat to smile back at me ppily.

"Stop teasing," I admonished.

"What's this lod news you have to tell us?"

Again came that taut look on her face as she flicked ;r eyes to Jory,
making her appear a locked gold purse iout to burst if she didn't tell
us soon.

"Is Qndy there t?"  she asked.

When I said no.  Melodic turned again to face the nd shield  Jory
winked.

"We're going to keep you in spense a while longer, so everyone can
enjoy our rprise to its full extent.  Besides, right now Dad's so tent
on seeing we reach that house safely that he luldn't give our secret
the appreciation it needs."

After an hour's ride we were turning onto our private ad, which
spiraled up the mountain, with deep vines or precipices always on one
side, forcing Chris drive even more carefully.

Once we were in the house and Td shown them ound downstairs, and they
had exclaimed and oh'ed d ah'ed.  Melodic came flying into my arms,
ducking sr head shyly down on my shoulder, for she was inches Her than
I. "Go on, darling," encouraged Jory softly.

Quickly she released me and threw a proud smile at wy, who smiled back
at her reassuringly.  Then she as spilling out the contents of that
bulging gold purse.

"Cathy, I wanted to wait for Qndy and tell you all at once, but I'm so
happy I'm bursting.  I'm pregnantfj just don't know how thrilled I am
when I've 'll wanting this baby ever since the first year Jory Hi
married.  I'm a little over two months along.  Our I is due in early
January."  ^ Stunned, I could only stare at her before I glanct Jory,
who had told me many times he didn't wail begin a family until he'd had
ten years at the top.  | he stood there smiling and looking as proud as
any would at this instant, as if he were accepting!

unexpected and unplanned child very well.  ' That was enough to make me
overjoyed.  ** Melodic, Jory, I'm so thrilled for you both.  A babyl
going to be a grandmother."  Then I sobered.  H want to be a
grandmother?  Chris was slapping Jor;

the back as if he were the first man ever to impreg his wife; then he
was embracing Melodie and aa questions about how she felt and if she
was expert ing morning sickness just like the doctor he was;

Because he was seeing something I wasn't, I fax;

at her more closely.  She had shadows beneath hollo eyes, and was much
too thin to be pregnant.  Howe there was nothing that could steal from
Melodic classical type of cool blond beauty.  She moved ' grace,
appearing regal even when she just picked!

magazine and flipped through it as she was cfi now.  I was baffled.

"What's wrong.  Melodic?"

"Nothing," she said, gone stiff for no appal reason, telling me instead
that everything was wre My eyes met briefly with Jory's.  He nodded,
anding he'd tell me later what was bothering Melodic All the way back
to FoxwortbHaU I'd been drea the meeting between Bart and his older
brother, i ing there would be an ugly scene to start everythmj wrong. I
strode to a window overlooking a side I and saw that Bart was on the
racket ball court, pla by himself with the same kind of intensity to
win though he had a partner to batter down to deli" I called, opening
a French door, "your brother is wife are here."

; there in a sec," he called back, and continued to rhere are all the
workers?"  asked Jory, looking id at the spacious gardens empty now of
anyone (art.  I explained most left about four, wanting to home before
they were caught in the late evening lally Bart threw down his racket
and sauntered our a broad, welcoming smile on his face.  We all ed onto
a side terrace covered with multicolored tones and decorated with many
live plants and y patio furniture with colorful umbrellas to shield
from the sun.  Melodic seemed to puB In her breath straighten her spine
as she moved closer to Jory.

didn't need his protection this time.  Bart's steps ed up until
eventually he was running, and Jory was ding to greet him.  My heart
could have burst ..

hers, at last!  Like they had been when both were r young.  They
pounded each other on the back, led each other's hair, and then Bart
was pumping r's hand up and down, slapping him on the shoulder in, the
way men often do.  He turned to look odie over.

Jl his enthusiasm died.

"Hi, Melodic," he said sfly, then went on to congratulate Jory for
their sesses on stage and the adulation they received.

oud of you both," he said with a strange smite.

We've got news for you, brother," said Jory.

"You now looking at the happiest husband and wife h) the rid, for we're
going to be parents come January."

iart gazed at Melodic, who avoided meeting his s. She half turned
toward Jory, with the sun behind turning her honey-blond hair fiery red
near her Ip, making a golden haze of the outer strands, so it lost
seemed she was sporting a golden halo.  Madon- pure she stood in
profile as if poised for flight.  The grace of her long neck, the
gentle slope of her sfl| nose, the fullness of her pouting rosy lips
gave heri kind of ethereal beauty that had helped to make 1 one of the
most beautiful and admired ballerinas America.  !

"Pregnancy becomes you, Melodic," Bart said sly ignoring what Jory was
telling him about cancel!

one year of bookings so he could be with Melo throughout her pregnancy
and help after the baby i born in all kinds of husbandly ways.  ;

Bart stared toward the French door where Joel stc silently watching our
family reunion.  I resented being there; then, ashamed, I gestured him
forwi even as Bart called out, "Come, let me introduce $ to my brother
and his wife."

Advancing slowly, Joel shuffled along the flags ton making each step
whisper.  Gravely he greeted Jory i Melodic after Bart's introduction,
not extending hand to be shaken.

"I hear that you are a dancer," said to Jory.

"Yes .. . I've worked all my life to be called that Joel turned and
left without another word to anyoi "Just who is that weird old man?" 
asked Jo "Mom, I thought you told us that both your mater uncles died
in accidents when they were very you nj I shrugged and let Bart
explain.

In no time at all, we had Jory and his wife establish in a very
rich-looking suite with heavy red vel draperies, red carpet and dark
paneled walls that mi the suite exceedingly masculine.  Melodic took a
k around, wrinkling her nose a bit in distaste.

"Rich .

nice .. . really," she said with heavy effort.

Jory laughed.

"Honey, we can't always expect wl walk with blue carpet, can we?  I
like this room, Bart looks like your kind of bedroom--classy."

Bart wasn't listening to Jory.  He still had his e glued on Melodic,
who glided from one piece furniture to another, running her long,
graceful ting

lover the slick, polished tops before she glanced into the adjacent
sitting room and then went on into the magnificent bath with an
old-fashioned walnut tub lined with tnewter.  She laughed to see the
tub.

"Oh, I'm going to ' "ijoy that.  Look at the depth--water right up to
your cnin if you want it that way."

"Fair women look so dramatic in dark settings," said part almost
without realizing he'd spoken.  No one said g word, not even Jory, who
gave him a hard look.

In that bath was also a walk-in shower and a lovely dressing table of
the same walnut with a three-winged gold-framed mirror, so the occupant
seated on the velvet-covered stool could see herself from every
angle.

We dined early and sat outside on a terrace in the twilight hours. Joel
didn't join us, and for that I was grateful.  Bart had little to say,
but he couldn't keep his eyes off Melodic in her frail blue dress that
molded to every delicate curve of thigh, hip, waist and bust.  I felt a
sinking sensation to see him studying her so closely, with desire
written clearly in those dark, blistering eyes.

At the breakfast table on the terrace outside the dining room, the
daisies were yellow.  We had hope now.  We could look at yellow and not
fear we'd never see sunlight again.

Chris was laughing at something funny Jory had just reported, while
Bart only smiled, still keeping his eyes on Melodic, who picked at her
breakfast without appetite.

"Everything I eat comes up sooner or later," she explained with a small
took of embarrassment.

"It's not the food, it's me.  I'm supposed to eat slowly and not think
about losing the meal ... but that's all I'm thinking of."  Just beyond
her shoulder, in the shadows of a giant live palm planted in a huge
clay pot, Joel had his gaze riveted also on Melodic, studying her
profile.

Then he was looking at Jory, narrowing his eyes again.

"Joel," I called, "step forward and join us for breakfast."

He advanced reluctantly, cautiously, whisperinj soft-soled shoes over
the flagstones, holding his 't crosswise over his chest, as if he Wore
an in vis coarse, brown, homespun monk's habit, and his hi were tucked
neatly out of sight up the wide sleeves seemed a judge sent to weigh us
in for Heaven's pc gates.  His voice was slight and polite as he
greeted:

and Metodie, nodding in answer to their questions^ plied him for
information on what it was like to live monk.

"I couldn't bear life without women," said ) "without music and lots of
different types of peopi around.  I get a little from this person,
something from another.  It takes hundreds of friends to keep happy.
Already I'm missing those in our ballet con ny."

"It takes all kinds to make the world go round,":

Joel, "and the Lord giveth before he take th aw;

Then he ambled off, his head bowed low, as ^ whispered prayers and.
fingered a rosary.

"The I must have known what he was doing when he n each of us so
different," I heard him murmur.

Jory swivele4 about in his chair to stare after J "So that's our great
uncle, who we presumed died skiing accident.  Mom, wouldn't it be odd
if the o brother turned up as well?"

Jumping to his feet, Bart's face flamed furi "Don't be ridiculous!
Malcolm's eldest son died w his motorcycle went over a precipice, and
they fo his body and buried it.  It's in the family cemetery I've
visited often.  According to Uncle Joel, his fa sent detectives looking
for his lost second son, that's one reason my uncle had to stay hidden
in monastery, until eventually he grew used to it began to fear life on
the outside."  Be flicked his ey< me, as if to recognize the fact that
we, too, as child had grown accustomed to our imprisoned life, tea the
outside.

"He says when you are isolated for long periods,

jbegin to see people as they really are--as if distance Ipves you
better perspective."

^ Chris and I met eyes.  Yes, we knew about isolation.

Standing, Chris gestured to Jory and offered to show Iriin around.

"Bart's planning horse stables, so he can have fox hunts like Malcolm
used to have.  Perhaps one |jay we may even want to join in that kind
of sport."

""Sport?"  queried Melodie, rising gracefully and hurrying to catch up
with Jory.

"I don't call a pack of hungry hounds chasing a cute little harmless
fox a true talon--it's barbaric, that's what!"

I "That's the trouble with those in the ballet--too sensitive for the
real world," Bart retorted before he stalked off in a different
direction.

| Later on in the afternoon, I found Chris in the foyer watching Jory
work out before the mirrors, using a chair for a bare.  The two men
shared the kind of relationship I hoped would develop one day between
Chris and Bart.  Father and son, both admiring and respecting the
other.  My arms crossed over my breasts to hug myself.  I was so happy
to have all my family together, or at least it would be when Cindy
arrived.

And the expected baby would be more cement to bind us together..  .

Jory had warmed up enough and began to dance to The Firebird music.
Whirling so fast he was a dazzling Uur, whipping his legs, leaping into
the air, bounding to land as light as a feather so you didn't hear his
feet hit the floor.  His muscles rippled as he jetted again wad again,
spreading his legs so he outstretched arms allowed his fingertips to
touch his toes.  I filled with excitement, watching him perform,
knowing he was showing off for our benefit.

"Would you look at those fetes?"  said Chris when he caught sight of
me.

"Why, he clears the floor by twelve feet or more.  I don't believe what
I'm seeing!"

"Ten feet, not twelve," corrected Jory as he whirled ^" spinning,
covering the immense spad in mere seconds.  Then he fell breathle 1
quilted floor mat put there so he'd hsn sst without his body sweat
fading the deli chair coverings.

"Damned hard floor S-be gasped as he lay back and rested on the spread
of his legs when he leaps, >ble he can be so supple at his age."

"I'm only twenty-nine, not thirty-nine!"  ( y, who had a thing about
growing older: spotlight to a younger danseur.

"I've go in good years ahead before I begin to slid exactly what he was
thinking as he spraw on the mat, looking so much like Julian.  It wa
sip.  twenty or so again.  The muscles of all n pS.  approaching forty
began to harden and becc so that their once magnificent bodies weren'
^^Ja|?  to the audience any longer.  Off with the < Al^ti tjhe new .. .
the fear of all performers, nigh ballerinas with their layer of fat
under their < uMhold on longer.  Falling on the mat beside Jor
fCTQSS-legged in my pink slacks.

"Jfciry, you are going to last longer than most a s^urs, so stop
worrying.  It's a long and glamorous n you have to travel to reach
forty, and who kno maybe you'll be fifty before you retire."

"Yeah, sure," he said, tucking his hands behind curly head and staring
up at the distant ceiling.

"Fe teen th in a long line of dancers has to be (he lu nUmber, doesn't
it?"

How many times had I heard him say he couldn't without dancing?  Since
hewasa small boy of two, put his feet on the road to where he was
now.

Down the stairs Melodic glided, looking beaut and fresh from a recent
bath and shampoo, seemin fragile spring flower in her blue leotards.

"Jory, doctor said I could keep on with light practice, an want to
dance as long as possible to keep my musi

>le and long .. . so dance with me, lover.  Dance_ dance, and then
let's dance some more."

Instantly Jory bounded to his feet and whirled to the foot of the
stairs, where he fell upon one knee in the toinantic position of a
prince seeing the princess of his creams.

"My pleasure, my lady .. ."  and swinging her off her feet, he whirled
with her in his arms before he put her down with the skilled practice
and grace that made her seem to have the weight of a feather.  They
whirled around, always dancing for the other, as once Julian and I had
danced for the pure delight of being I young, alive and able.  Tears
came to ray eyes as 1 stood I beside Chris and watched them.

' Sensing my thoughts, Chris put his arm about my I shoulder and drew
me closer.

"They're beautiful to" I get her aren't they?  Made for each other, I
would say.

I If I squint my eyes and see them hazily, I see you I dancing with
Julian ... only you were far prettier, | Catherine, far prettier ..
."

; Behind us Bart snorted.

Whipping around, I saw Joel had trailed behind Bart like a well-trained
puppy and at his heel he stopped, his head low, his hands still tucked
up those invisible brown homespun sleeves.

"The Lord giveth, and the Lord take th away," mumbled.  Joel again.

Why the devil did he keep saying that?

Uneasily I looked from Joel to Bart and found his admiring gaze again
riveted on Melodic, who was in arabesque position, waiting for Jory to
sweep her up in his arms.  I didn't like what I saw in Bart's dark,
envious look, the desire that burned hotter by the how.  The world was
full of unmarried women he didn't need Melodic, his brother's wife!

Wildly Bart applauded as their dance ended and both were gazing
transfixed at each other, forgetting we were there.

"You've got to dance like that at my birthday party!  Jory, say that
you and Melodic will."

Reluctantly Jory turned his head to smile at Bart.

"Why, if you want me, of course, but act Mel.  Her doctor will allow a
little mild dancing and practk like we just did, but not that strenuous
kind needef a professional performance, and I know you'll 1 omy the
best."

"But I want Melodic, too," protested Bart.

smiled charmingly at his brother's wife.

"Please, for birthday.  Melodic, just this one time .. . and yo not so
far along anyone will notice your condition Appearing uncertain.
Melodic stared at Bart don't think I should," she said lamely.

"I want our t to be healthy.  I can't risk losing it."

Bart tried to persuade her, and might have, but put a brisk end to the
debate.

"Now, listen, Bart, I our agent Mel's doctor didn't want her to
perform, if she does, he might get wind of it and we coul sued.
Besides, she's very fatigued.  The kind of easy dancing you just
witnessed is not the kind we do w we're serious.  A professional
performance denn hours and hours of warm-ups and practice and reht al.
Don't plead, it's embarrassing.  When Cindy co she can dance with
me."

"No!"  Bart snarled, frowning now and losing al charm, "She can't dance
like Metodie."

No, she couldn't.  Cindy wasn't a professional, she did well enough
when she wanted to.  Jory and I trained her since she was two.

Several feet behind Bart, like a skinny dark shac Joel's hands came out
of wide sleeves and tern;

beneath his bowed head.  He had his eyes closed, again in prayer.  How
irritating to have him aroure the time.

Deliberately I turned my thoughts from bin Cindy.  I couldn't wait to
see her again.  Couldn't wa hear her breathless girlish chatter that
told of pr and dates and the boys she knew.  All the things brought
back to me my own youth, and my own do to have what Cindy was
experiencing.

In the rosy glow of die evening sunset, I si unobserved in the Shadows
of a great arch overt

Ijgnd watched Jory again dancing with Melodic in the huge foyer. Again
in leotards, this time violet ones, with the filmy tunic to nutter
enticingly.  Melodic had Itound violet satin ribbons under her small,
firm Hweasts.  She appeared a princess dancing with her I lover. Oh,
the passion Jory and Melodic had between them stirred a wistful longing
in my own loins.  To be young again like them ... to have the chance to
do it ^iover ... do it right the second time around.., Suddenly I was
aware that Bart was in another cove, as if he'd waited to spy ,..  or,
more generous, watch as I watched.  And he was the one who didn't
pounds ballet and didn't care for beautiful music.  He leaned casually
against a door frame, his arms folded over his chest. But the burning
dark eyes that followed llelodie weren't casual.  They were full of the
desire I'd | feen before.  My heart, skipped.

| When had Bart ever not wanted what belonged to rjbry?  1 " : , .  : ,
The music soared.  Jory and Melodic had forgotten they might be
observed and became so involved in what they were doing that they
danced on and on, wildly passionate, entranced with each other, until
Melodic ran to leap into his outstretched arms.  Even as she did I her
lips pressed down on his.  Parting lips that met again and again. Hands
that roamed to seek out all the secret places.  I was as much caught up
in their tovemaking as Bart, unable to back away.

"Then' kisses seemed to devour one another.  In the heat of kindled
desire, they fell to the floor and rolled onto the mat.  Even as I
strode toward Bart, I heard their heavy breathing, growing louder.  "
"Come, Bart, it's not right to stand and watch when the dancing is
ower.  "He jumped as if my touch on us arm burned.  The yearning in his
eyes both hurt and frightened me.

"They should learn to control themselves when they're guests in my
home," he said in a gruff voice, not taking his eyes off the forgetful
pair rolling about on die mat, arms and legs entwined, sweaty hair
clinging as they kissed.

I yanked Bart into the music room and softi] the door behind us.  This
was not a room I favi had been decorated to please Bart's very m;

taste.  There was a grand piano that no one ever although I'd seen Joel
finger it once or twks snatch his hands away as if the ivory keys sin
with sin.  But the piano lured him so often he jvc staring at it, his
fingers flexing and un flexing

Bart strode toward a cabinet that opened to i lighted bar.  He reached
for a crystal decanter himself a stiff scotch.  No water or ice.  In
one downed it.  Then he was looking at me in i fashion.

"Nine years of marriage.  Still they arei of one another.  What is it
that you and Chris hi Jbry has captured and I haven't?"

I flushed before my head bowed low.

"I didn you drank alone."

"There's a lot you don't know about mi Mother."  He poured a second
scotch, I heard t gurgle of the fluid without looking up.

"Even & had a drink once in a while."

Curiosity filled me.

"Do you still think aboi colm?"

He fell into a chair, crossed his legs by plac ankle on the opposite
knee.  I looked away, t that once my second son had the most irritating
putting his feet on anything available, ruining good chair with his
muddy boots, and bed;

suffered early deaths.  Then my eyes went bad shoes.  How did he keep
the soles so clean,;

appeared never to have walked on anything but Bit by bit Bart had lost
all his messy ways on) toward manhood.

"Why do you stare at my Mother?"

"tok^w very handsome."

<s0fyyw?aay think so?"  He gazed down 2 differently.

"They cost ax hundred bucks, and I paid lOtber hundred to have the
soles treated so they'll ever show scuff marks or dirt.  It's the 'in'
thing to do, au know.  Wear shoes with clean soles."

I frowned.  What psychological message did that [mart?

"The tops will wear out before the soles do."

^"Sowhat?"

I had to agree.  What did money mean to any of us yf/f We had more than
we could possibly spend.

j^ben the tops wear, I'll throw them out and buy a vw pair."

"Then why bother to have the soles treated?"

t""Mother, really," he said crossly.

"I like everything (keep its new appearance until I'm ready to discard
--I'm going to hate looking at Melodie when she's ilging in the middle
like some breeding cow .. ."

"I'll be happy the day she shows, then perhaps you o move your eyes
away from her."

He lit a cigarette, met my eyes calmly.

"I bet I could isily take her away from Jory."

"How dare you say such a thing?"  I cried angrily.

"She never looks at me, have you noticed?  I don't ink she wants to see
that I'm better looking than Jory w, and taller, and smarter, and a
hundred times cher."

!;0ur eye contact held.  I swallowed nervously, jucked invisible lint
from my clothes.

"Cindy's coming |morrow."

He shut his eyes briefly, gripped the arms of his chair rder, but
otherwise showed no expression.

"I disap>ve of that girl," he finally managed.

"I hope you won't be unkind to her while she's here.

a't you remember the way she used to tag around, wing you?  She loved
you before you turned her linst you.  She'dstill adore you if you'd
stopped sing her so unmercifully.  Bart .. . aren't you sorry (or all
the ugly things you said and did toyour sister?"

v- "She's not my sister."

"She is, Bart, she is!"

"Oh, God, Mother, I'll never think of Cindy a sister.  She's adopted,
not truly one of us, I've n few of those letters she writes toyou.
Can't yo what she is?  Or do you only read what she says, aro what she
means?  How can any girl be that populai not be giving out?"

I jumped to my feet.

"What's wrong with Bart?"  I yelled.

"You deny Chris as your father, C as your sister, fory as your brother.
Don't you ne have anyone but yourself--and that hateful old who trails
you about?"

"I've got a little of you, don't I, Mother?"  he narrowing his eyes to
sinister slots.

"And I've go Uncle Joel, who is a very interesting man, who i this
moment, praying for all our souls."

A red flag waved in my face.  I flamed with in anger.

"You're an idiot if you prefer that creepy man to the only father
you've ever had!"  I tried to my emotions under control but failed, as
I'd al failed when it came to Bart and control.

"Have forgotten all the many kind deeds Chris has don you?  Is still
doing for you?"

Bart leaned forward, piercing me with his diam hard glare.

"But for Chris I would have had a h life.  With you married to my real
father, I could been the perfect son!  far more perfect than .

Maybe I'm like you.  Mother.  Maybe I need my rev more than I need
anything else."

"Why do you need revenge?"  Surprise was ii voice, a certain kind of
hopelessness.

"No one has i toyou what was done to me."

He leaned forward, very intense as he bit out, * think because you gave
me all the necessary thing the clothes I needed, all the food I could
eat, a house to shelter me, you made yourself believe that enough, but
it wasn't.  I knew you saved the best of love for Jory.  Then, after
Cindy came, you gave second best to her.  You had nothing left to give
me but pity and I hate you for pitying me!"

Sudden nausea almost made me gag.  I was glad I had the chair beneath
me.

"Bart," I began, struggling not to cry and show the very kind of
weakness he'd despise, "perhaps once I did pity you for being clumsy,
for being un confident  Most of all, I was sorry you hurt yourself so
often.  But how can I pity you now?  You're very handsome, intelligent,
and when you want to be, extremely charming as well.  What reason do I
have now for pitying you?"

I "That's what bothers me," he said in a low voice.

| "You make me took at myself in the mirror, wondering | what it is you
see.  I've come to the conclusion that you pist don't like me.  You
don't trust me, don't believe in me.  I see in your eyes right now that
you don't believe I'm completely sane."  Suddenly his eyes, which had
half-closed, opened wide.  He stared penetratingly into my eyes, which
had always been easy to read.  He laughed short and hard.

"It's there, dear Mother, that suspicion, that same fear.  I can read
your mind, don't think I can't.  You think someday I'll do something to
betray you and your brother, when I've had chances enough to do exactly
that and I've done nothing.  I've kept your sins to myself.

"Why not be honest and say now you didn't love your mother's second
husband.  Say truthfully you only used him as the instrument of your
revenge.  You went after him, got him, conceived me, then he was
dead.

True to the kind of woman you areA you then headed straight back to
that poor doctor in South Carolina, who no doubt believed in you and
loved you beyond reason.  Did he realize you married him just as a
means to give your bastard child a name?  Did he know you used him to
escape Chris?  See how much thought I've given toyour motivations? And
now I've come to another conclusion: you see a lot of (3ms in Jory and
that's what you love!  You look at me and see Malcolm, and although my
face and physique may resemb of my true father, you ignore that and see
wh, want to in my eyes.  In my eyes you think you s soul of Malcolm. 
Now tell me that I've pro wrongly!  Go on, tell me I'm not speaking the
te My lips parted to deny every word, but nothinf out.

I panicked inside, wanting to run to him and c head against my breast,
as I so often comforted but I couldn't make my feet move in Bart's
direC truthfully did fear him.  As he was now, fiercely i and cold and
hard, I was afraid of him, and teal my love turn to dislike.

He waited for me to speak, to deny his charge in the end, I did the
worst thing possible--1 rai the room.

On my bed I threw myself down and cried.

word he'd said was true!  I hadn't known Bart read me like an open
book.  Now I was terrified 6 he might do someday to destroy not only
Chris ac but Cittdy, Jory and Melodie.

Qndy

Around eleven the next day, Cindy arrived in s running into the house
like a fresh, invigorating, breeze.  She buried herself into my arms,
reek some exotic perfume I thought too sophisticates girl of sixteen,
an Opinion I knew I'd better la myself.

"Oh, Momma," she cried, kissing and huggil repeatedly, "it's so good to
see you again!"

lavishings of affection left me quite breathless eagerly responded. All
the while, even as Wi

Iged, she managed to stare around at the grand tois with all their
elegant furnishings.  Holding to my bd she pulled me from one room to
another, gasping t exclaiming at the beauty of everything so fine and

Where's Dad?"  she asked.  I explained that Chris j driven into
Chartottesville to turn in his rented car t a more luxurious model.

iDarling, he hoped to be back before you reached e. Something must have
slowed him down.  Be ient, and in a second or two he'll Stroll in the
door 1 welcome you."

totisfied, she again exclaimed, "Momma, wow!

at a house!  You didn't tell me it would be like this.

i made me think the new R>xworth Hall would be ; as ugly and scary as
the first."

b me, Foxworth Hall would always be ugly and ',y, yet it was thrilling
to watch Cindy's excitement rover.  She was taller than I, her young
breasts ripe > full, her waist very slender so it emphasized the atle
swell of her beautifully formed hips with the flat By, while her
buttocks filled out the back of her jeans aightfully.  Looking at her
figure sideways, I had to npare her to a burgeoning flower, so tender,
so frail waring, and yet she had exceptional endurance.

ier full and heavy long golden hair was casually led.  It blew wild in
the wind as we went out to watch y and Bart fighting it ouf on the new
tennis courts.

h, gosh.  Momma, you do have two beautiful sons," i whispered as she
stared at their bronzed, strong lies.

"I never thought Bart would grow up to be just ^handsome as Jory, not
when he was such an ugly tue brute."

^Amazed, I stared at her.  Bart had been too thin, ways with scabs and
scars on his legs, and his dark tir had never been tidy, but he'd been
a good-looking tie boy, certainly not ugty looking--only ugly acting.

|And once upon a time, Cindy had worshipped Bart.  A bufe twisted in
my heart as 1 realized so much of Ban had said last night was true.  I
had put Cindy a of him.  I had thought she was perfect and inca pat
doing wrong, and still did.

"Do try to be kind and thoughtful to Bar whispered, seeing Joel coming
our way.

"Who's that funny-looking old man?"  ashed C turning to stare at Joel
as he bent stiffly to pull up!

weeds.

"Don't tell me Bart has hired somebod] him for a gardener--why, he can
hardly straightc once he's crooked."

Before I could answer, Joel was upon us, smffi broadly as his fake
teeth would allow.

"Why, you be Cindy, the one Bart talks about all the time," hi with
some faint leftover charm, taking Cindy's i tantly offered hand and
putting it to his thin, ere BpsI could tell she wanted to yank her hand
awa;

she tolerated the touch of his lips.  The sun thi Joel's almost white
hair still streaked with Voaa gold made it seem terribly thin. Suddenly
I reali hadn't told Cindy about Joel and hastened to intr them.  She
seemed fascinated once she knew wl was.

"You really mean you knew that hatefu Grandfather Malcolm?  You are
really his son?

you must be really ancient..."

"Cindy, that's not tactful..."

"I'm sorry.  Uncle Joel.  It's just when I hear my and dad talk of
their youth, it seems a million ago," She laughed charmingly, smiling
apologetic Joel.

"You know something, you look a lot like m in some ways.  When he's
really old, no doubt he'll to look tike you."

Joel turned tes eyes toward Chris, who'd just 6 up and was even now
stepping out of a beautifu blue Cadillac with his arms foil of
packages.

picked up gifts I'd had engraved for Bart's bin Por his birthday, I'd
gone all out and given him on

best, as he would expect: an attache case of the finest | leather,
with combination locks, for Chris to give him.

I gighteen-karat gold cufflinks with his initials india mon ds and a
matching gold cigarette case, also monoerammed in diamonds the gem Bart
respected most, I from me.  His father had carried such a cigarette
case, I given to him by my mother.

I Dropping the packages onto a lawn chair, Chris held } ys arms open.
Cindy buried herself into his welcoming embrace.  She covered his face
with a rain of small kisses, leaving her lip marks all over his face.
Staring up into his face.  She pleaded.

"This is going to be the best k summer of my life.  Daddy, can't we
stay here until | school starts in the fall, so I can know what it's
like to live in a real mansion, with all those beautiful rooms and
fancy bathrooms?  I already know which one I want, the one with all
those pink and white and gold ^girlish things.  He knows I just adore
pink, realty tove I pink, and already I adore and love this house! Just
love it, love it!"

A shadow nickered through Chris's eyes as he re leased her and turned
to look at me.

"Well have to talk 1; that over, Cindy.  As you know, your mother and I
are here just to help Bart celebrate his twenty-fifth birth day."

I looked over toward where Bart smashed the tennis ball with such force
it's a wonder it didn't burst.

Running like a streak of white light, Jory slammed the yellow ball back
to Bart, who ran just as fast to swoop and cleverly whack it back with
just as much force.

Both were hot and sweaty, their faces reddening from the exercise and
the hot sun.

"Jory, Bart," I called, "Cindy's here.  Come to say hello."

Instantly Jory turned his head to smile, causing him to miss the next
yellow ball that came hurtling his way.

He failed to return it, and Bart whooped for joy.  He jumped up and
down, hurled down his expensive racket, shouting, "Iwin!"

"You win by default," said Jory, throwing dowi racket as well.  He ran
our way, his face all smiles threw back at Bart, "Default winning
doesn't cou "It does so count!"  bellowed Bart.

"What the he we care whether or not Cindy's here?  You just i that to
quit before my score topped yours."

"Have it your way," answered Jory.  In a momer was swinging Cindy off
her feet, whirling her arc and around, making her blue skirt fly and re
skimpy bikini panties.  It amused me to see that C still dressed from
the skin out in one color.

Melodic rose from a marble garden seat where s been watching the tennis
game, until now half hk by high shrubbery.  I saw her lips tighten as
observed Cindy's too affectionate greeting.

"like mother like daughter," mumbled Bart 1 behind me.

Cindy approached Bart warily, with so much d rum she didn't seem like
the same girl who had ki Jory.

"Hello, brother Bart.  You're looking very fi Bart stared at her as if
he'd never seen her be for had been two years, and at fourteen, Cindy
had worn her hair in pigtails, or pony taus and she braces on her
teeth.  Now her gleaming white t were perfectly spaced.  Her hair was a
loose-flo^ mass of molten gold.  There wasn't a girl in the magazines
that had a better figure or more pei complexion, and only too unhappily
1 realized Cindy knew she looked sensational in her tight blue white
tennis dress.

Bart's dark eyes lingered on her ripe, unfett breasts that jiggled when
she walked, their p jutting out clearly.  His eyes measured her
hand-!

waist before he stared at her pelvic area; thei lowered his eyes to
take in very pretty long legs ended in white sandals.  Her toenails
were paii bright red to match her fingernails and lipstick.

She was breathtakingly lovely in a sweet, fresh mo cent way that
strove unsuccessfully to appear sohisticated.  I didn't believe for a
moment that that )dg, intense look she gave Bart meant what apparently
ie took it to mean.

"You're not my type," he said scornfully, turning [way.  When he did,
he stared long and meaningfully at Melodic.  Then again he turned to
Cindy.

"You have a ;ertain cheap quality, despite all your expensive clothes
^.you don't possess nobility."

; It hurt to hear him deliberately try and squelch Cindy's youthful
pride.  Her radiant expression faded.

Like a tender flower without the admiration of rain to nourish her
faith in herself, she wilted before me as she turned into Chris's
waiting arms.

, "Apologize, Bart," ordered Chris.  I cringed, knowing Bart would
never apologize.

; Bart curled his lips, his scorn so apparent, even as he cted
indignant and angry.  His lips parted to insult Chris as he'd done so
many times, but then he glanced lit Melodic, who'd turned to look at
him in a detached, I curious way.  A deep flush heated Bart's face,
"III I apologize when she learns how to dress and act like a lady."

"Apologize now, Bart," ordered Chris.

"Don't make demands, Christopher," said Bart, ^looking Chris
meaningfully in the eyes.

"You're in a Jrery vulnerable position.  You and my mother.  You're not
a Sheffield, not a Foxworth or at least you can't let it be known
you're a Poxworth.  So just what are you that counts?  The world is
full of doctors, too many doctors and younger and more knowledgeable
ones than you are."

Chris stood taller.

"My ignorance about medicine has saved your life more than once, Bart.
And the lives of many others.  Perhaps one day you'll recognize that
fact.  You've never said thank you for anything I've done for you.  I'm
waiting for that day."

Bart paled, I suspected not so much from what Chris had just said.  I
thought he was embarrassed t Melodic was watching and listening.

"Than Uncle Chris," he said sarcastically.

How mocking and insincere his words and his voice.  I watched the two
men in silent challenge, Chris wince from the way Bart put stress on "I
Then, for no reason at all, I glanced at Joel.

He'd moved closer to pause just behind Melori on his face was the
kindest, most benign smile.

his eyes lurked something darker.  I moved U beside Chris, just as Jory
lined up with him on th side.

My lips parted to add a long list of things Bart thank Chris for, when
suddenly Bart was s toward Melodic, ignoring Cindy.

"Have I told 5 theme of my party?  The dance I've chosen for y Jory?
It's going to cause a sensation."

Melodic stood up.  She stared Bart straight in 1 with open contempt.

"I'm not going to dance f< birthday guests.  I think Jory has explained
toyo than once that I'm doing everything I can to see a healthy
baby--and that doesn't include dane your amusement and that of people I
don' know."

Her voice was cold.  Dislike for Bart glared fn dark blue eyes.

She left, taking Jory with her, leaving the rest ( follow.  Joel tagged
along at the very end Kke a ti didn't know how to wag.

Quick to recover from all wounds, as always rebounded from Bart's
rebuffs, Cindy gushed 1 about the expected baby that would make her ai
"How wonderful!  I can hardly wait.  It's going to beautiful baby, I
know, when it has parents lit and Melodic, and grandparents like you
and D;

Cindy's delightful presence made up for so m Bart's hatefulness.  I
hugged her close and she sn down on the love seat in my private sitting
roo began to spill out all the details of her life.  I li

eagerly, fascinated by a daughter who was making up for all the
excitement Carrie and I had missed out on.

Each morning Chris and I were up early to enjoy the beauty of the cool
mountain mornings, with the perfume of roses and other flowers drifting
to delight our nostrils.  Cardinals scarlet as flames flew everywhere
while blue jays shrieked and purple martins searched (he grass for
insects.  It surprised me to see dozens of birdhouses to accommodate
wrens, martins and other species, and fabulous birdbaths and rock
garden pools where the birds had a merry time taking quick, fluttery
"baths.  We ate on one terrace or another to enjoy different views,
talking often of all this that had been itemed us when we were young
and would have been 'appreciated even more than it was now.  Sad, so ad
to think of our little twins and how they had cried to go ' ut side
outside, and the only playground they had was lie attic garden we made
for them out of paper and ardboard.  And this had been there then,
unused, lunenjoyed, when two little five-year-olds would have been in
seventh heaven to have had just a little of what il e could enjoy daily
now.

" Cindy liked to sleep late, as did Jory and especially Melodie, who
complained a great deal about nausea And fatigue.  As early as
seven-thirty Chris and I patched workmen and party decorators drive up.
Caterers came to prepare for the party, and interior designers arrived
to complete the appointments in some of the unfinished rooms, but vat
one neighbor dropped in to welcome us.  Bart's private phone rang
often, but the telephones on other lines hardly rang at ll.  We sat at
the top of the world, or so it seemed, all fcy ourselves, and in some
ways it was nice, in other ways it was a little frightening.

' In the distance, faint and hazy, we could faintly see two church
steeples.  When the nights were still and without wind, we could
faintly hear them chime away fte hours.  I knew one had been patronized
by Malcolm when He lived, and about a mile away was the cer where he
and our grandmother were buried si side, with elaborate headstones and
guardian put there by our mother.

I filled my days with playing tennis with Chris Jbry, sometimes with
Bart, and that's when he seemed to like me most.

"You surprise me, Mo he yeued over the net, slamming that yellow I hard
it almost went through my racket.  Some managed to race to hit it back,
and then my tr some knee started hurting and I had to quit, complained
I was using that knee as an exa abandon play with him.

"You find any reason to stay away from m< yelled as if Chris's words
meant nothing.

"Yom doesn't hurt,..  or you'd be limping."

I did limp as I Climbed the stairs, but Bart' around to notice this.  I
soaked in a tub of hot wai an hour to take away the pain.  Chris came
in to tel was doing it wrong again.

"Ice, Catherine, ice only inflame your knee more when you sit in hot 3
Now get out while I fill a bag with crushed ice, aw it on your knee for
twenty minutes."  He kissed take the sting from his words.

"See you later," h< hurrying back to the tennis courts to take on while
Bart left with Joel in tow.  All this I coin from our bedroom balcony
while I sat with that i< held to my knee, and soon enough the cold w(
chasing away the throbbing hot pain.

I was beginning a layette for Jory's expected This demanded many
shopping sprees for yarns dies, crochet hooks, for visiting adorable
baby i Often we drove into ChariottesviUe with Cind Chris to shop, and
twice we made the longer dr Richmond and shopped there, went to the
movu stayed overnight.  Sometimes Jory and Melodic with us, but not as
often as I would have liked.  A] Foxworth Hall's charm was palling.

, But if it palled for me, for -fory and Melodic, it worked its charm
on Cindy, who adored her room, her fancy French furniture, her ultra
feminine bath with its pink decor enhanced with gold and mossy pale
green.

Hugging herself, she danced around.

"So he doesn't like me," she laughed, spinning around before the many
minors, and yet he decorates a room exactly the way Fd want.  Oh,
Momma, how can either of us understand Bart?"

, Who could answer that?

Preparations

As Bart's twenty-fifth birthday approached, a kind of feverish insanity
descended on the Hall.  Differentkinds of decorators came to measure
our lawns, our Italics, our terraces.  In groups they whispered, made
lists, sketches, tried different colors for the tablecloths, talked in
huddles to Bart, discussed the theme of the dance and made their secret
plans.  Bart still refused to reveal the theme--at least to the members
of his Etamily.  Secrets didn't sit well with anyone but Bart.  The
rest of us became a close-knit family that Bart didn't ^want to join.

'; Workmen with wood and paint and other construction materials began
to build what appeared to be a Stage and platforms for the orchestra. 1
heard Bart brag to one of his entourage that he was hiring opera stars,
l#cry famous ones..

Whenever I was outdoors, and I stayed outside as much as possible, I
stared at the blue-misted mountains all around us and wondered if they
remembered two of Ac attic mice shut upstairs for almost four years.  I
wondered if ever again they'd transform an ordinary little giri into
someone foil of fanciful dreams she 1 mate come true.  And I had made a
few come even if I'd failed more than once to keep husl alive.  I wiped
away two tears and met Chris's loving gaze and felt that old familiar
sadness wast me.  How sane Bart could have been if only hadn't loved
me--and I hadn't loved him.

Blame the wind or stars of fate--but I still blann mother.

Despite our dire anticipations of what lay ahf couldn't help but feet
happier than I'd felt in time, just watching all the excitement in the
ga that gradually turned into something straight it movie set.  I
gasped to see what Bart wanted doi It was a biblical scene!

"Samson and Delilah," Bart said fl atty when I a all his enthusiasm
squelched because Melodic refusing to dance the rote he wanted.

"Often I've I Jory say he loved the chance to produce his productions,
and he does love that role most of i Pivoting about.  Melodic headed
for the house out answering, her face pale with anger.

Again, I should have known.  What other t would capture Bait's fancy as
much?

Cindy ran to throw her arms about Jory.

"Jor me dance the role of Delilah, I can!  I just know 11 "I don't want
your amateurish attempts!"  sh< Bart.

Ignoring him, Cindy tugged pleadingly on go Jory's hands.

"Please, please, Jory.  I'd love to < I've kept up my ballet classes,
so I won't be stif awkward and make you look unskilled, and bet now and
then you can help me gain better timin) rehearse morning, night and
noon!"

"There's not enough time to rehearse whei performance is two days
away," complained throwing Bart a hard, angry look.

"Good lord,;

why didn't you tell me before?  Do you think

because I choreographed that particular ballet that I can remember all
the difficult routines?  A role like that needs weeks of rehearsing,
and you wait until the last moment!  Why?"

"Cindy's lying," said Bart, looking longingly at the door through which
Melodic had disappeared.

"She was too lazy to keep up her classes before, so why should she when
Mother's not there to force her?"

"I have!  I have!"  cried Cindy with great excitement and pride, when I
knew she hated violent exercises.

Before the age of six, she'd loved the pretty tutus, the cute little
satin slippers, the little sparkling tiaras of fake jewels, and the
fantasy of the fanciful productions had put her in a spell of beauty
I'd once believed she'd never abandon.  But Bart had ridiculed her
performances just one too many times, and she'd let him convince her
she was hopelessly inadequate.  She'd been about twelve when he stole
her pleasure in the ballet.  From then on she'd never gone to classes.
Therefore I was doubly amazed to hear she'd never really given up on
the dance, only on allowing Bart see her perform.

She turned to me, as: if pleading for her life.

"Really, I am telling the truth!  Once I was in the private giri's
school, and Bart wasn't around to ridicule me, I started again and ever
since have kept up my ballet classes, and I tap dance as well."

"Well," said Jory, apparently impressed, giving Bart another hard look,
"we can devote what time we have left to practicing, but you were
extremely unthinking to believe we wouldn't need to practice for weeks,
Bart.  I don't expect to have much difficulty myself since it's a
familiar role but Cindy, you've not even seen that particular baH et

Rudely interrupting, Bart asked with great excitement, "Do you.  have
the lenses, the white lenses?  Can you really see through them?  I saw
you and Melodic in New York about a year ago, and from the orchestra
you really did look blind."

:i!  jjErowning at his unexpected question, Jory st Bartseriously.

"Yes ... I have the contacts with he said slowly.

"Everywhere I go someone asks dance the role of Samson, so I take the
lenses.  I < know you appreciated ballet so much."

Laughing, Bart slapped Jory on the back as if 1 never had a
disagreement.  Jory staggered froi strength of that blow.

"Most ballets are stupid 1 but this particular one catches my fancy.
Samson great hero and 1 admire him.  And you, my br< perform
extraordinarily well as Samson.  Why even took just as powerful.  I
guess that's the only that has ever thrilled me."

I wasn't listening to Bart.  I was staring at Joel leaned forward.
Muscles near his thin lips w almost spasmodically, hovering near a
smirk or a 1 I couldn't tell which.  All of a sudden 1 didn't wan and
Cindy to dance in that particular ballet, included very brutal scenes.
And it had been 1 idea years and years ago ... hadn't he been the c
suggest that the opera would- provide the mus what he considered would
make the most se nsa baBetofatt?

All through the night I thought and I thought o to stop Bart from
wanting that particular produc He'd never been easy to stop as a boy.

As a man ... I didn't know if I had a chance.

was going to give it a try.

The very next morning I was up eariy and ru out into the yard to catch
Bart before he drove of listened to me with impatience, refusing to
chanf theme of his party.

"I can't now, even if I want I've had the costumes designed and they
are a finished, as are the sets and flats.  If I cancel anything will
be too late to plan another ballet.  Besides, doesn't mind, why should
you?"

How could I tell him that some small, intuitive was warning me not to
let this particular baft

performed near the place of our confinement--with Malcolm and his wife
in the ground not so far away the music wouldn't fill their dead
ears.

Jory and Cindy practiced and rehearsed night and day, both catching a
certain excitement as they worked together and Jory found out that
Cindy was good;

certainly she wouldn't perform as well as Melodic would have, but she'd
dance more than adequately, and she was so lovely with her hair bound
up in classical ballerina style.

The morning of Bart's birthday dawned bright and clear, heralding a
perfect summer day without rain or (douds.

:".  I was up early with Chris, strolling in the gardens.

;-before breakfast, enjoying the perfume of roses that | seemed to
herald a beautiful, perfect birthday for Bart.

| He'd always wanted birthday parties, like the ones we | 'threw for
Jory and Cindy, yet when they came around, | he somehow managed to
antagonize every guest so that many left early, and usually m a huff.
He was a man now, I kept telling myself, and this time it would be
different.  Chris was saying that to me, J ff& if we had some sort of
telepathy, both with the same lithoughts.

I "He's coming into his own," I said.

"Isn't it odd how he's hung onto that childish expression, Chris?  Will
the Shattorneys read the will again after the party?"

[, Smiling and happy looking, Chris shook his head.

l?"No, darling, we'll all be too tired.  The reading is set for the
next day."  A shadow came to darken his expression.

"I can't remember anything in that will that would spoil Bart's
birthday, can you?"

No, I couldn't, but at the time of our mother's win leading, I'd been
too upset, crying, half hearing, not really caring if none of us
inherited the Foxworth fortune that seemed to come with its own
curse.

"There's something Bart's attorneys aren't telling Something they say
indicates 11 ^terstood at the time when our r I shortly after her
death.  Now thi k of it because Bart has demande _Jtt te any legal
discussions.  They ^ Wares or intimidates them.  It surp He'ftged men
with years of experien " _ _ I^HBrt, as if they want to keep his g( and
ftfinebe damned.  It annoys me, and the tayi^s^hAttilfcAell do I care?
Soon we'll be and making a new home for ourselves, and I take his
fortune and rule with it ..."  My ara^wem about trim, angry because 1
fused to gwe famthe credit he deserved for 1 that vast fortune for so
many years, and doinj good yob o( it?  AS qdespite his medical pr act
stole so much of his time.

"How many million swill he inherit?"  I "Twenty, fifty, morer as
billion, two, threes- Chris laughed.

"Oh, Catherine, you never g You always exaggerate; Th be honest, it's
dif calculate the net worth of all those holdings wl are scattered into
so many areas of investment ever, he should be pleased when his
attorney rough estimate .. . it's more than enough greedy young men."

In the foyer we paused to watch Jory rehears Cindy, both hot and sweaty
from all their effort) dancers who'd be in the ballet were with them, i
around idly, either watching Jory and Cindy 01 around at what they
could see of the fabulous Cindy was doing exceptionally well, and th
surprised me; imagine keeping up her ballet da:

not telling me.  She must have used some allowance meant for clothes
and cosmetics an trivial (hingsshewas always needing.

One of the older dancers strolled over to me, as she spoke of seeing me
dance a few times

grk.

"Your son is very much like his father," she went i, glancing back at
Jory, who was whipping himself up to such a passion 1 wondered if he'd
have any energy it for tonight's performance.

"Maybe 1 shouldn't say is, but he's ten times better.  I was only about
twelve hen you and Julian Marquet danced in The Sleeping eauty, but it
was the inspiration that gave me the sire to become a dancer myself.
Thank you for giving ; another wonderful dancer like Jory Marquet."

What she said filled me with happiness.  My marriage i Julian hadn't
been a total failure when it had oduced Jory.  Now I had to believe
Bartholomew in slow son would eventually fill me with just as uch pride
as I felt right now.

The rehearsal over, Cindy came to me, quite out of eath.

"Mom, how did I do, okay?"  Her eager face ai ted for my approval.

"You did beautifully, Cindy, really you did.  Now, if m just remember
to feel the music ... keep the ning, you will turn in a remarkable
performance for a vice" She grinned at me.

"Always the instructor, hub, [om?  I suspect I'm not nearly as good as
you want me > believe, but I'm going to give the performance my
'erything, and if I fail, it won't be because I didn't y."

Jory was surrounded by admirers, while Melodic sat uetly on a love seat
beside Bart.  They didn't appear I be conversing, nor did they seem
friendly.  Yet, eing them on that lovely small seat for two, 1 felt
imehow uneasy.  Tugging Chris forward, we moved oser to the pair on the
love seat.

"Happy birthday, art," I said cheerfully.  He looked up and smiled with
snuine charm.

"I told you it was going to be a great day, with sun td no rain."

"Yes, you told us."

"Can we all eat now?"  he asked, standing and teaching for Metodie's
hand.  She ignored h ifiMi^Wtthoat assistance.

"I'm starving!"  Bart v teotemg only a little crestfallen from another
EeNU .  "Those Bttte Continental morning sna aA't satisfy me."

WBflM(de?a happy assembly at the luncheon ti but Joel, who sat at his
own small, round table let tace apart from the rest of us.  It was his
ck we were too rowdy and ate too much, insul monkish tastes, which
dictated a serious at tit ward food and long prayers before and after
Even Bart grew annoyed with Joel when he bees pious, and especially on
this day his im showed.

"Uncle Joel, do you have to sit then yourself?  Come, join the family
group and wii happy birthday."

Joel shook his head.

"The Lord scorns ostei displays of wealth and vanity.  I disapprove
party.  You could show your gratitude to be al better way, by
contributing to charities."

"What have charities done for me?  This is my shine.  Uncle, and even
if dear old dead Maico over in his grave, I'm having the time of
tonight!"

I was flooded with delight.  Quickly I leaned him.

"I love to see you like this, Bart.  This day..  . and (he gifts we
have for you are going your eyes wide."

"Hope so he said, alt smiles.

"I see they're^ up on the gift table.  We'll open them soon a guests
are here, so we can get on to the en menf."  " : ^'!: ^: ' Across from
where I sat, Jbry was start Melodie's eyes with concern.

"Honey, are yori all Tight  ;

"Yes," she whispered, "except I'd like to be i the role of Delilah.  It
feels strange watching ya with someone else."

k "After the baby conics, we'll dance together again," |e said before
he kissed her.  Her eyes clung worshipfulJito him as he got up to
practice again with Cindy.

1"That's when Bart lost his happy expression.

^Delivery men were constantly at the door bringing rt more gifts.  Many
of his fraternity brothers from arvard were coming with their
girlfriends or wives.

tose who couldn't make it were sending presents.

irt came and went, almost on the run, checking on rery aspect of the
party.  Bouquets of flowers arrived r the dozens.  The caterers filled
the kitchen, so I fett i intruder when I wanted to prepare my own kind
of id day snack.  Then Bart had me by the arm and was il ling me
through all the rooms that were overflowing ?  flowers.

"Do you think my friends will be imessed?"  he asked worriedly.

"You know, I think I light have done a bit too much bragging when I was
in fchool.  They'll expect a mansion beyond compare."

k I took another look around.  There was something fe out a house ready
for a party that made it especially fcautiful, and Poxworth Hall was
not only festive but sctacular with all its fresh flowers to give it
warmth d grace, as well as beauty.  All the crystal sparkled, ; silver
gleamed, the copper glowed ... oh, yes, this use could rival the very
best.

| "Darling, stop fretting.

"You can't out-best everyone | the world.  This is a truly beautiful
house, and your fecorators have done a marvelous job.  Your friends
loll be impressed, don't you doubt that for one second.

The caretakers did keep it weH over the years, and gave 01 the gardens
a chance to become well established."

fe He wasn't listening, just staring beyond me, frowning ftghtly.

"You know.  Mother," he said in a low voice, -I'm going to rattle
around here after you and your Brother go, and Melodic and Jory leave.
It's a good Sung I've got my Uncle Joel, who will stay on until he
Bes."

I heard this with a sinking heart.

Cindy's name wasn't mentioned, for obviou never miss her.

"Do you really like Joel that Bart?  This morning he seemed to irk you
^ monkish ways."

Clouds shadowed his already dark eyes, mad his handsome face.

"My uncle is helping i myself, Mother, and if sometimes he annoys
because I'm still so uncertain about my future.  1 help his habits
formed over all those years fivi monks who weren't allowed to speak,
only p loud and sing at services.  He's told me a bit atx it was, and
it must have been very grim and loo yet he says he found peace there,
and belief in C everlasting life."

My arm dropped from his waist.  He could turned to Chris and found
everything he n peace, security, and the faith that had sustaine
throughout life.  Bart had blind eyes when it < seeing the goodness in
a man who'd tried so make a son out of Bart.

But my relationship with my brother com him, blinded Bart to anything
but that.

Sadly I left Bart and climbed the stairs to fin on the balcony staring
down at the workers in tt I joined him there, feeling the sun hot on m'
Silently we watched all that bustle of activity, prayed this house was
finally going to give us soi other than misery.

We napped for two hours, then ate a small before all of us hurried back
up to dress for the went again out onto the balcony that gave Chris so
much pleasure.  Below me spread the c fairyland.  The colors of the
fading day fill heavens with deep rose and violet, streaked magenta and
orange, and sleepy birds flew lil tears toward their nests.  Cardinals
were makil little beeping sounds, not chirps or cheeps bu

like electronic, metallic bleeps.  When Chrisstepped up beside me,
damp and fresh from his shower, we didn't speak or feel the need to; we
Just embraced, looking downward, before we finally turned away and went
inside.

Bart, the child of my revenge, was coming into his own.  I held fast to
my hopes wanting a party that turned out well and gave him the
assurance he needed that he had friends and was well liked.  I held off
my fears and told myself over and over again that it was Bart's just
due, and ours, too.

Maybe Bart would be satisfied tomorrow when the will was reread. Maybe,
just maybe ... I wanted the best for him, wanted fate to make up for so
many things.

Behind me Chris moved in our dressing room, step ping into his tux
trousers, stuffing in his shirttails, tying his own bow tie, then
asking me to do it all over again.

"Make the ends even."  Gladly I relied it for him.  He brushed his
beautiful blond hair that was just a bit darker in back than it had
been when he was forty.

Each decade both darkened the blond and brought a touch more of silver
in both our heads of hair.  Easily I could keep mine colored, but Chris
refused to do that.

Fair hair had a lot to do with the way 1 thought about myself.  My face
was still pretty.  I was both mature and young looking.

Chris's reflection moved closer to my dressing table, hovering over my
shoulders; His hands, so familiar to me now, moved to slip inside my
bodice and cup my breasts before his lips pressed on my neck.

"I love you.

God knows what I would do if I didn't have you."

Why was he always saying that?

As if he expected one day I'd leave or die before he did.

"Dariing, you'd live, that's what.  You're important to society, I'm
not."

"You're the one who keeps me going," he whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Without you I wouldn't know how to continue on--but without me, you'd
go.

probably marry again."

I saw his eyes, his blue eyes wistfully wait iii "I've had three
husbands and one lover, ai enough for any one woman.  If I am so unluc
lose you first, I'll sit day by day before a ^ staring out and
remembering how it used to you

His eyes turned softer, meeting and locki mine as I went on.

"You look so beautiful, Chri make your sons envious."

"Beautiful?  Isn't that an adjective used to ?

females?"

"No.  There's a difference between hand sc beautiful.  Some men can
look handsome, radiate inner beauty--like you do.  You, my 1
beautiful--inside and out."

Again his blue eyes lit up.

"Thank you ver And may I say that I find you ten times as bea you find
me."

"My sons will be jealous when they bet beauty of my Christopher
Doll."

"Yes, of course," he answered with a wry grii sons see much to envy in
me."

"Chris, you know Jory loves you.  Someda going to find out he loves
you, too."

"Someday my ship will come .. ."  he sang "It's his ship, too, Chris.
Bart is at last corn his own.  And with that fortune in his control
than yours, he'll relax, find himself and turn to the best father he
could have had."

Reflectively he smiled, a small smile of sadrn be honest, darling, I'll
be happy when Bart money and I'm out of the picture.  It's no eas
handling all that money, though I could have money manager to do it for
me.  As trustee, 1 wanted to prove myself to Bart, that I'm more t a
doctor, since' that never seemed enough for

hat could I say?  Nothing Chris did seemed to ge the way Bart felt
about him.  Because of that thing he couldn't change---he was my
brother-would never accept him as his father.

What are you thinking, my love, that's ugly, anding you frown?"

fothing much," I answered, then I stood.  The silky e of my clinging
Grecian-styled dress felt whispery sensuous against my bare skin.  My
hair had a single curl to drape over my shoulder, the rest of it piled
on the crown of my head.  Holding it in place was a iond hair dip, the
only jewelry I wore but for my ding rings.

i the middle of the bedroom we shared, Chris and I he'd for each?
other.  There we stood, wrapped in i otiier's arms, holding fast to the
only security we had that lasted: each other.  All about us the house
so quiet.  We could have been lost and alone in nity.

Ml right, spill it out," said Chris after long minutes ed.

"I can always ten when you're worried."

I wish things could be different between you and t, that's an," 1
replied in an offhand way, not ting to spoil this evening.

I feel my relationship with Jory and Cindy more i makes up for Bart's
antagonism.  And, more ortantly, I genuinely sense Bart does not hate
me.

re are times when I feel he wants to reach out to but there's that
shame, that knowledge of our true tionship that holds him as if bound
by chains of 1. He wants guidance but is ashamed to ask for it.

wants a father, a real father.  His psychiatrists have iys told us
that.  He looks at me, finds me sadly ing so he looks elsewhere. First
it was Mal(i, his great-grandfather, already dead in his grave.

n it was John Amos, and John failed him, too.  Now urns to Joel,
fearfully suspecting that he, too, may e his flaws.  Yes, I can tell at
times he doesn't really trust his great-uncle.  And because he can tl
this, Bart is not beyond saving, Cathy.  We s time to reach him--for
we're alive and he's al "Yes, yes I know, I know.  White there's Of
always hope.  Say it again, and then again.  Ai say it often enough,
maybe the day will con Bart says to you "Yes, I love you.  Yes, you'
your best.  Yes, you are the father I've been kx an my life--and
wouldn't that be wonderful?

His head bowed into my hair.

"Don't sound;

That day will come, Cathy.  As surely as you ai each other--and our
three children--that come."

I knewTd do anything that was necessary to one day Bart would speak
genuine words of lo father!  I'd live forever to see the day when ]
only accepted Chris and said he loved him and him and thanked him, I'd
also live to see hii brother to Jory again ... and a brother to Ci
Minutes later we were at the head of th starting to descend and join
Jory and Melodu we could see near the newel post at the Melodic wore a
simple black gown that drap black shoestring straps.  Her only jewelry
was a gleaming pearls.

Upon hearing the clatter of my high-heelt slippers on the marble, Bart
stepped into view his custom-tailored tux.  My breath caught.  I- have
been his father when I'd seen him the it His mustache--that small
amount of fuzz f seven days ago--had grown thicker.  He looke< and that
was enough to make him look ev< handsome.  His dark eyes were full of
admirati saw my dress, my hair, smelled my perfume.

er!"  he cried, "you look stunning!  You bou lovely white dress
especially for my party, didn Laughing, I said yes, of course, I
couldn't w thing old to a party such as this' We all had compliments
for each other, exo

ta't say anything at all to Chris, although I saw him neptitiously
glancing at him, as if Chris's steadfast yd looks kept taking him by
surprise.  Melodic and ry, Chris and I, with Bart and Joei, formed a
circle at bottom of the stairs, all of us but Joel trying to talk the
same time.  Then ... Momma, Daddy!"  called Cindy, running down the His
toward us and holding up her long flame-red dress she wouldn't trip.  I
turned to stare at her disbeliev I didn't know where Cindy had found
the shocking d dress she wore.  It seemed the kind a hooker would gar
to display her charms.  I filled with such sickening lead of Bart's
reaction that all my former happiness wed like stale wine down into my
slippers and appeared through the floor.  The thing she wore wag like a
coat of scarlet paint, the neckline plunged |nost to her waist, and
obviously she wore nothing Iderneath.  The peaks of her jutting breasts
were too gvious; and when she moved she jiggled embarrass- gly.  The
clinging satin sheath was cut on the bias, and tag ... oh, it did ding.
There wasn't a bulge or a ppie to betray an ounce of fat, only a superb
young |dy she wanted to display.

^Cindy, go back to your room," I whispered, "and | on that blue dress
you promised to wear.  You're teen, not thirty."

"Oh, Momma, don't be so stodgy.  Times have anged.  Nudity is in.
Momma, IN.  And compared to me I could have chosen, this dress is
modest, abso|tely prudish."

kJust one glance at Bart told me he didn't think SSndy's gown was
modest.  He stood as if dumbstruck ntil this very moment, with his face
flame red, his dark yes bulging as he stared at her mincing around,
ccause the skirt was so tight she could hardly move priegs.

s Bart stared at us, looked again at Cindy.  Bart's rage fas so furious
he couldn't speak.  In those few seconds I had to think quickly of how
to appease him.

"C

please, run back and change into something dee Cindy had her eyes fixed
on Bart.  Obviously sh challenging him to do something to stop her
seemed to be enjoying his reaction, his bulging ev< gaping lips that
showed his indignation and shoci made more of a show of herself by
sashaying ai like a prancing pony in heat, swishing those hips
undulating, provocative way.  Joel moved next to his watery blue eyes
cold and scornful as he k Cindy up and down, and then his eyes lifted
to mine.  See, see what you have raised, he said mut "Cindy, do you
hear your mother?"  Chris bell "Do as she says!  Immediately!"

Appearing shocked, Cindy froze, staring at him defiance as she flushed
and stood her ground.

"Please, Cindy," I added, "do as your father The other dress is very
pretty and appropriate.

you have on is vulgar."

"I am old enough to choose what I want to w she said in a quivery
voice, refusing to move.  ' likes red, so I wear red!"

Melodic stared at Cindy, glanced helplessly up;

and tried to smile.  Jory appeared amused, as i were all a joke.

Cindy had by this time finished her burlesque formance.  She looked
somewhat crestfallen a paused before Jory, staring up at him expecti
"You look absolutely divine, Jory--and you, too, odie."

Obviously Jory didn't know what to say or wh( look, so he looked away,
then looked back.  A blush rose from the neckline of his tucked formal
"And you look like ... Marilyn Monroe .. ."

Bart's dark head snapped around.  His fiery raked over Cindy again. His
face flamed even recR it seemed he might go up in smoke.  He explode
control vanished.

"You go straight back to your and put on something decent! 
INSTANTLY!

M

sfore you get what you deserve!  I won't have anyone my home dressing
like a whore!"

"Get lost, you creep!"  she snapped back.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"  he yelled.

"I said, GET LOST, CREEP!  I will wear exactly hat I have on!"  I saw
her tremble.  But for once Bart as right.

"Cindy, why?  You know that dress is wrong, and eryone is right to be
shocked.  Now, do what's pected, go upstairs and change.  Don't create
more stress than you already have for you do look like a reel
prostitute, and certainly you must know that.

sually you have very good taste.  Why did you select at thing?"  .

"Momma!"  she wailed, "you're making me feel id!"

Dart stepped toward her, his expression very threatung.  Instantly
Melodic moved between them, spreadg her slender white arms before she
turned pleadingly Bart.

"Can't you see she's only doing this to annoy >u?  Stay calm, or else
you will give Cindy exactly the tis faction she wants."

Turning, she said to Cindy in a cool but authoritative ice, "Cindy, you
have achieved the shock effects you anted.  So why don't you go back
upstairs and put on at pretty blue dress you started to wear in the
first ace?"

Bart ignored both Chris and me as he strode to seize indy, but she
pranced away out of his reach, turning ' teasingly mock him for being
slow and not as agile as ie was, even hobbled as she was in that slim,
straight, Ait skirt.  I could have slapped Cindy when I heard her y
silkily, "Bart, darting, I was so sure you'd love this arlet gown ...
since you think I'm a cheap, trashy ing, anyway, I'm just living up to
your expectations id playing the role you wrote for me."

In one flashing bound he reached her.  His open palm immed against her
cheek.

The pain in his hard slap rocked Cindy backward so Struggling to
maintain dignity.

"You are a creeper Bart.  A weird pervert who doesn't know w real world
is about.  I bet you're a virgin, or els The rage on Bart's face sent
her scurrying stairs in a hurry.  I moved to prevent Bart from ing
Cindy, but he was too quick.

Ruthlessly he shoved me aside, so I, too, alm< Crying like a chastised
child, Cindy disappean Bart close at her heels.

In a distant hall, I faintly heard Bart shout, dare you try to
embarrass me?  You're the tras I've had to protect from all the dirty
stories about you.  I used to think they Bed.  Now proved yourself
exactly what they said you we soon as this party is over, I don't ever
want to s again!"

"AS IF I WANT TO SEE YOU'."  she screan HATE YOU, BABt'.  HATE YOU!"

I heard her scream, the wailing cries .. . I sta head up the stairs
while Chris tried to restra Tugging free, I had climbed five steps who
appeared with a satisfied smirk on his hand sol momentarily evil face.
He whispered as he pas;

just gave her what you never did--a thorough ing.  If she can sit for a
week comfortably, she's ass made of iron."

" I glanced backward in time to see Joel scowl use of that word.

Ignoring Joel for a change, smiling like the | host, Bart arranged us
into a receiving line, an guests began to arrive.  Bart introduced all
oi people 1 hadn't known he knew.  I was amazed!

style he showed, the poise, the ease with wb

tpdied everyone and made them welcome.  His col- ye chums came
flocking in, as if to see all that he'd Id them about.  If Ciody hadn't
put on that horrible ess, I could have really felt proud of Bart.  As
it was, 1 is baffled, believing Bart could be anything that ited his
purpose.

Bight now he was set on charming everyone.  And he cceeded, even more
than fory, who obviously and sely intended to take a back seat and
allow Bart to inc.  Melodic stayed close at her husband's side, mging
to his hand, his arm, looking pale, unhappy.  I is so absorbed in
watching Bart perform that 1 was rtled when someone tugged on my arm.
It was indy, wearing the modest little blue silk sheath I'd lo sen for
her.  She looked sweet-sixteen and-neverien-kissed.

I scolded, "Really, Cindy, you can'tame Bart.  This time you deserved a
spanking."

She choked out, "Damn him to hell!  I'll show him1 1 dance ten times
better than Metodie has ever meed!  I'll make every man at this party
want me night, despite this deadly mousey gown you chose."

"You don't mean that, Cindy."

Softening, she fell into my arms.

"No, Momma, I m't mean that."

Bart saw Cindy with me, raked his eyes over her rlish gown, smiled
sarcastically and then came our

^ : ^ , .  I , " I .

Cindy stood taller.  , "Now, listen, Cindy.  You'll put oh your costume
tien the time comes and forget anything happened '.tween us.  You'll
perform your part to perfection-lay?"  '. '."  ." .. , : .  " ', '."
.

Playfully he pinched her cheek.  So playfully his pinch it a deep red
indentation on her face.  She squealed id kicked out.  Her high heel
dug into his shin.  He Iped and slapped her.

"Bart!"  I hissed, "stop!  Don't you hurt her again!

u've done enough for one night!"

Chris yanked Bart away from Cindy.

"Now enough of this idiocy," he said angrily, a seldom angered.

"You've invited to this parts the most important people in Virginia--n
them you know how to behave."

Puffing roughly away from Chris, Bart glare then strode away, very
fast, without a coi smiled at Chris, and with him beside me, we b the
gardens.  Jory and Melodie took Cindy a introducing her to some of the
young peop come with their parents.  There were many t Bart had met
through fory and Melodie, hordes of friends and fans.

I could only hope for the best.

Samson and Delilah

Golden globes everywhere lit up the night, moon rode high in a
cloudless, starry sky.  0 lawn were dozens of buffet tables butted to,
form a huge U. On these tables food was place silver dishes.  A
fountain sprayed imported eh into the air, then trickled it into
layered pool;

intotiny spigots.  On the middle table was a sculpture of Foxworth
Hall.

Besides the main tables laden with all thi could buy were dozens of
small round an individual tables covered with brilliant cloth over
rose, turquoise over violet, yellow owe and other striking
combinations.  The tableck kept from blowing by heavy garlands of flo
tooned around them.

Although Chris and I had been introduce

ring line, it seemed to me most of Bart's guests it a point not to
talk to us.  I looked at Chns just looked at me.

"What's going on?"  he asked in a rhisper.

ie older guests are not talking to Bart, either," I red.

"Look, Chris, they've come just to drink, id enjoy themselves, and they
don't give a damn Bart, or any of us.  They are just here so he can ad
wine them."

wouldn't say that," Chris replied.

"Everyone it a point to speak to Jory and Melodic.  Some yen talking to
Joel.  Doesn't he look a fine and it gentleman tonight?"

/er would it cease to amaze me the way Chris find something to admire
in everyone.

I looked like a funeral director as he moved juy from one group to
another.  He didn't carry a like everyone else.  He didn't partake of
the hments that piled the buffet tables in such a itaking array.  I
nibbled daintily on a cracker 1 with goose liver pate and looked around
for '. She was in the center of five young men, very the belle of the
ball.  Even her demure blue dress keep her from looking very
seductive--now that shoved the shoulder ruffle down to bare the top f
her bosom.

ie looks like you used to," said Chris, also watchndy.

"Except you had a more ethereal quality, as r two feet were never
firmly on the ground, and would you stop believing miracles could hap-
He paused and looked at me in that special way Kpt my love for him
always alive and thriving.

love," he whispered, "miracles can happen, even

'-ry wife or husband Seemed to be trying to score any member of the
opposite sex besides their ss.  Only Chris and I stuck together.  Jory
had wa red and now Melodic was standing with Bart.

as saying something to her that had her eyes

blazing hot.  She turned to hurry away, but I hold of her arm and
yanked her back.  She snat arm away, only to have him seize it again,
and ly he pulled her into his embrace.  They began 1 with Melodic
determinedly keeping him from her against him.

I started to go to them, but Chris caught m restrain me.

"Let Melodie handle him.  Yo make him furious."

Sighing, I watched the small conflict betw< and his brother's wife and
saw to my amazen he won, for she relaxed and finally seemed to t dance
that soon ended.  Then he was leading I group to group, as if she were
his wife and n( I'd tasted only a little of this and that whe beautiful
woman stepped forward, smiling Chris, then at me.

"Aren't you Corrine fq daughter, the one who came to that Christnc
party and--" Abruptly I cut her short.

"If you'll excuse m a few duties to perform," I said, hurrying a
keeping fast hold of Christopher.  The woi behind us.

"But Mrs.  Sheffield ...."

I was spared the need to answer by the blast trumpets.  The
entertainment began as tort' seated themselves with plates of food and
drir and Melodie came to join us, while Cindy and to warm up in
practice outfits before they chao elaborate costumes.

Soon the professional entertainers had me along with everyone else.

What a wonderful party!  I glanced often at 1 Bart and Melodie, who sat
near us.  The sumn was perfect.  The mountains all around enclose
friendly romantic ring, and I was again amaz< could see them as
anything but formidable ba keep freedom forever out of reach.  I was
hapi Melodie laughing and, most of all, happy to;

ir having a good time.  He shifted his chair closer to |l "Would you
say my party is a success.  Mother?"

" oh, indeed, yes, Bart, you've outdone anything er attended.  It's a
marvelous party.  The evening thtakingly beautiful, with the stars and
moon ad, and an your colored lights.  When does the t begin?"

J smiled and put his arm lovingly about my shoul, His voice was tender
with understanding when he d, "Nothing for you equals the ballet, does
it?  And won't be disappointed.  You just wait to see if New i or
London can equal my production of Samson JMoA."

|ry had danced the role only three times before, but h time his
performances had brought such acclaim it t no wonder Bart was
fascinated with the role.  The icians in black sat down, reached for
new musk;

ts and started tuning their instruments.

few yards away, Joel stood stiffly, a hateful, ip roving look on his
face, as if he reflected all that at her ghost might be feeling to see
this extra va waste of good money.

"Bart, you're twenty-five today, happy birthday!  I nember clearly when
a nurse laid you in my arras the (t time.  I had a terrible time giving
birth to you and t doctors kept coming to say I had to make a choice,
ir life or mine.  I chose yours.  But I made it, and was ssed with a
second son ... the very image of his ler.  You were crying, your small
hands balled into > as you flailed the air.  Your feet kicked free of
the nket, but the minute you fete my body heat against its, held close
to my heart, you stopped crying.  Your s, closed until then, parted
into slits.  You seemed to s me before yon fell asleep."  i "I'm sure
you thought Jory was a prettier baby," he aid with sarcasm, but his
eyes were tender, as if he 'liked hearing of himself as a baby.

Melodic was regarding me with the strangest expresa^sdAete't--^.^
^^s^^^^ %%?  yould ^psyou up "In other words I , r " "IneverthouAtth^,?
^at ^nuisance.

I conceived you" I lo?"^-I loved you from youk was such a faE^ T more
^V011 face."

""lenng first smile, as if it hu

It seemed for a mi.  i,j 1- j i-.  vi reached for aune, aA"I Id
t^Ad?lmnH moment theTertu^r11^011^^^-^ and this moment oiS10 samson and
Delllah and me wasjost S ^tness between my sea Bart's euests l<wlmH ue
e^te11 murmur of sw} S at ule P'T31" T1 ^ role and his wtpr^01^ to
dance ols m0^

^'o?^^^01^^' ^ul?  t curiositv wondprirl y P 0?10 looked at Melo( ^Sa^
whe^S ^y she wastft dancing E world'Sn^At bega,.  I was lost to
miKAitwaspSnful^0"2610^^ fe another woridL ^of^.  and I was transp The
curtain lifted * u .- -^ t silken tent set agaSi^ the lnslde ^ a nieht
in the de^rt a backdrop representrng were^pA^^J."^^^^^ Cindv
dressedl^^8 swayed gently.  On sti sno^"K^frbanouS costume that wig,
cleverly bound^ "^ ^^ WOK bands the be^B a aK)ulld nelr ^ad with infi
Samson wh^ i.^uctiw.  undulating dano cle^&e^?  thhS?ered ^stos^ wh
resouBding ovation- ay guests stoxl aDd gaw He stood waitino ... > "i
began tris dance Tt1"1111 Ac applause ende loincloth helTup ?; wore "^
but ?

^ "y a strap that crossed &

muscled broad chest.  His skin, well tanned, appeared oiled.  His hair
was long and black and perfectly straight; muscles rippled as he
whirled, jetted, duplicating Delilah's steps only more violently, as if
he mocked her womanly weakness and delighted in his own agile,
masculine strength.  The power it took to portray Samson made my'spirie
shiver.  He looked so right for the role, danced so well, I shivered
again, not from cold but from the pure beauty of seeing coy son up
there, dancing as if God had gifted him with superhuman style and
grace.

Then, as it inevitably had to be, Delilah's beguiling dance of
seduction wore down his resistance, and Samson succumbed to the
loveliness of Delilah, who let down her dark tresses and slowly began
to undress ... veil by veil she let fall before Samson fell upon her
and bore her back onto the pile of animal skins ... and the stage
darkened just before the curtain dropped.

Applause thundered as the curtain came down, I noticed a certain look
on Melodie's pale face--was that envy?  Was she wishing now he'd danced
Delilah?

"You would have made the best Delilah," whispered Bart softly, his lips
brushing the wisp of hair that curled above her pea ri-studded ear.

"Qndy can'tcompare ..."

"You do her an injustice, Bart," answered Melodic, "When you consider
her lack of rehearsal time, she's jperformed beautifully.  Jory told me
he was surprised how good she is."  Melodie leaned forward to address
me.

"Catby'I'm sure Cindy has put in hours and hours of general practice,
or else she wouldn't dance as well ^assheis."

t Since the first ad of the ballet had gone so well, I leaned back
against Chris, who had his arm about me, sand relaxed.

"I feel so proud, Chris.  Bart is behaving teautifulty.  Jory is the
most accomplished danseuri've rtver seen.  I'm amazed how well Cindy is
doing."

? "Jory was born to dance," said Chris.

"If he'd been raised by monks, still he would have danced.  Bi
remember a rebellious little girl who hated to her muscles and make
them hurt."

We laughed in the way long-married coupl intimate laughter, expressing
more than what w The curtain rose again.

While Samson slept on the colorful couch 1 Delilah had shared, she
cautiously eased off, dre lovely garment of frail silk, then stole
quietly, opening of the tent and beckoned inside a grom warriors
previously hidden.  All bore shield swords.  Already Delilah had shorn
Samson's I his long dark hair.  She held it up triumphantly, die timid
soldiers confidence.

Startled awake, Samson jumped from the bed high into the air and trie3
to lift his weapon.  Wlj left of his long hair was short and stubby.
His, seemed too heavy.  He screamed silently on fin!

his strength gone.  His despair was made visual whirled in frustration,
beating his brow with, fists for believing in love and Delilah; then
n<| writhe on the ground^ twisting aboutr glaring I lah, who tormented
him with her wild laugh| rushed for her, but the six soldiers sprang
Samson and brought him down.  They bou| with chains and ropes as he
struggled mightily!

himself.  | And all the time, off stage, the most fameq from die
Metropolitan sang his pleading song of!

Delilah, asking why she had betrayed him.  Teara| down my face to see
my son lashed and whipped he was hauled to his feet and the soldiers
beg| dance of torture white Delilah watched..;|| Even knowing all this
horror was feigned, II against Chris when the branding iron, heated wA
was moved ever closer to Samson's bulging eiJ set darkened.  Only the
white-hot iron lit up t6j^ and the ghostly shine on Samson's near nude
bj^ last sound was Samson's scream of agony.  ," |f The second act
curtain lowered.  Again, there was wild applause, and cheers of "Bravo!
Bravo!"

; Between acts people chatted, got up for more drinks, to nil their
plates again, but I sat beside Chris almost frozen with dread that I
couldn't explain.

Beside Bart, Melodie sat as tense as I, her eyes dosed and waiting.

i' Third act time.

; Bart shifted his chair Closer to Melodic.

"I hate this ttellet," she murmured.

"It always frightens me, the Brutality of it.  The Mood seems so real,
too real.  The wounds make me feel sick.  Fairy tales suit me
better."

| "Everything will be fine," Soothed Bart, putting his arm over her
shoulders.  Immediately Melodie jumped to her feet, and from then on
she refused to sit;

?" The crimson curtain rose.  Now we were staring at the |epresentation
of a heathen temple.  Huge thick colfanns made of papier-mache towered
toward heaven.

BTie vulgar squatting heathen god crouched overhead, Iross-legged and
center stage, with his cruel eyes gazing evilly downward.  He was
supported by two main fcolumns reached by a short flight of steps, B
The musical cue for the third and final act started.

"Dancers represented the crowd that would watch am son tortured before
the priests of the temple anced onto stage, each doing his or her own
special ito performance before settling into seats.  Then warfs tugged
on chains that dragged Samson onto the age.  Worn and weary looking,
blood streaking from [any simulated wounds, Samson stumbled blindly in
rcles as the dwarfs meanly confused him, tripped him he fell, only to
struggle upward and be tripped again.

(leaned toward anxiously.  Chris's hand stayed on my thoulder, trying
to calm me.

lf Could Jory really see through those neatly opaque es that made him
took truly sightless?  Why couldn't t have been satisfied with only a
blindfold?  But fbry claimed Bart was right.  The lenses were much more
effective.

High expectancy was in the air.

Bart turned his eyes on Melodie, as inch by in was making his way
closer, as if he wanted to p himself so he could watch our faces.

Samson had difficulty walking with the chaii manacled his powerful
ankles together, drag gi hind him a great ball of fake iron.  Runmr
jumping beside him were the dozen dwarfs who at his strong legs with
small swords, tiny lances dwarfs were really children, costumed to loo
tesque.) Jory hefted his fake chains, making ther very heavy, making
himself seem weary enoi drop.  His wrists also wore what seemed to h
manacles.  As he stumbled around the arena, turning ix circles, trying
to feel his way along, the lilting, rending music played.  Stage right,
in her own blue spotlight, the opera star began to sing that famous
aria of all from Samson and Delilah:

"My heart at thy sweet voice ..."

Blind and tormented from whip lashings w blood, Jory began a slow,
mesmerizing dance ment and toss of faith in love, his renewed cred God
restored, using the fake iron chains as part action.  I'd never seen
such a heartbreaking pc ance.

Blindly, agonizingly, Samson's ordeal of see for Delilah while she
dodged just out of his rca at my heart, as if this entire thing was
real and no performance, so real every person in the au forgot to eat,
to drink, to whisper to a partner.

Delilah wore an even more revealing costu green.  The jewels sparkled
as if they were re mon ds and emeralds, and when I peered through
glasses, I saw to my dismay that they were part Foxworth legacy,
glittering and shining enough 1 Delilah the appearance of wearing more
tlu

actually did.  And just a few hours ago Bart had blasted Cindy with
his anger for wearing more than she did now.

Flitting around the temple, Delilah hid herself beliind a fake marble
column.  Samson's outstretched hands pleaded for her help, even as the
tenor screamed out his agony of betrayal.  I quickly glanced at Bart.
He was leaning forward, watching with such intensity it seemed nothing
in the world interested him more than this play of agony he'd wanted
between brother and sister.

Again I was filled with apprehension.  The air seemed fraught with
danger.

Higher and higher rose the pitch of the soprano.

Samson began to shamble blindly toward his goal the twin columns he
meant to shove apart and bring down the heathen temple.

: Overhead the giant obscene god grinned maliciously.

& And that song of love made it a thousand times more painful.

; As Samson was making his way up the shallow steps, On the temple
floor Delilah writhed in apparent regret and agony to see her lover so
cruelly treated.  Several guards headed to capture her, and no doubt
they would treat her as they had Samson.  Even so, she began to crawl
toward Samson, keeping her body low to the floor and just beneath the
chains he lashed about so furiously.  Now she grabbed his ankle,
looking up at trim pleadingly.  It seemed he would beat her with his
chains, but he hesitated, staring blindly downward ^before his manacled
hand reached tenderly to stroke j her long dark hair, to listen to
words she mouthed but |we couldn't hear.  With calculated thought for
drama, with renewed Nth in his love and his God, Jory lifted his arms,
bulging his biceps, and broke his chains!

The audience gasped at the passion Jory put into the act.

He spun around wildly, lashing the separated chains that dangled from
his Wrist manacles, trying b strike, apparently, anyone.  Delilah
jumpe< dodge the brutal chains that felled two guards dwarf.  She made
her attempts to get away a i such excitement everyone at the party was
thrall, totally quiet as bit by bit, beKlah cleveri;

blind lover to the exact position he needed, the two huge columns that
supported the temp Dodging, provoking Samson more and me taunting,
silent gestures even as the song decl undying love for him.  All meant
to deceive th and the blood-thirsty crowd that wanted to see dead.

All around the arena people were leaning 1 straining to see the grace
and beauty of from world's most famous premier dan sews

Jory was performing astonishing/e(&, lashing up into a terrible frenzy
before he finally puto on a fake marble pillar; and then with more (
import, he had the other braced, too, On the floor, Delilah kissed his
feet bel mocked him, tormented him with words she speak.  Trickingthe
heathen crowd, while he k truly loved him and had betrayed him out oi
spite and greed.  With heaving, impressive Samson began to labor to
bring down the en ting by pushing against the columns!  The tenor
called upon God to help him shove down the I mous god.

Again the soprano sang, tenderly seducing into believing he couldn't do
the impossible.

The last beseeching note died as with^a might perspiration streaming
down his face, dripping oiled body already streaked with red, he gliste
ghastly way.  His blind white eyes shone.

Delilah screamed.

The cue.

With a mighty and terrifying effort, Jory ri

hands again and began with greater effort to shove against the "stone"
columns.  My heart was in way throat as I watched those papier mach6
columns begin to bulge.  As God restored Samson's strength, down would
crash the temple, killing everyone!

Stage hands had cleverly arranged a large amount of cardboard backed by
clanging junk to clatter down and make frightful noises.  They faked
thunder by rippling long rectangles of thin metal, as if God would
wreak his vengeance in a personal way.  Strangely enough, as the lights
turned red, and the records of people screaming began to sound, Cindy
was to tell me later, she thought she felt something hard brush her
shoulder.

Just before the curtain lowered, I saw Jory fall from a huge false
boulder that struck him on his back and head.

He sprawled face down on the floor, blood spurting from his cuts!
Horrified to realize that sand didn't pour harmlessly out of the broken
and tumbled columns, I jumped to my feet and began to scream. Instantly
Chris was up and running toward the stage.

My knees buckled beneath me.  I sank to the grass, still seeing the
terrible vision of Jory flat on his face with the column smashed down
on his lower back.

A second column crashed down on his legs.

The curtain was down now.

Applause thundered.  I tried to rise and reach Jory, but my leg
wouldn't hold me.  Someone caught my elbow and half lifted me.  I
glanced and saw that it was Bart.  Soon I was on the stage, staring
down at the broken body of my first son.

I couldn't believe what I saw.  Not my Jory, my dancing Jory.  Not die
little boy who'd asked when he was three, "Am / dancing.  Momma?"

"Yes, Jory, you are dancing."

"Am I good.  Momma?"  "No, Jory ... you are wonderful!"

I Not my Jory, who'd excelled at everything physical, beautiful and
heartfelt.  Not my Jory ... my son.

"Jory, Jory," I cried, falling upon my knee side, seeing Cindy through
my tears, crying, should be rising by this time.  He lay sprawled
bloody.  The "fake" blood I felt was sticky, smelled like real blood.

"Jory .. . you're w.

hurt ... Jory ...?"

Nothing.  Not a sound, not a movement.

In my peripheral vision I saw Melodic as thr< wrong end of a telescope,
hurrying our way, he pale she and her black gown seemed darker i
night.

"He's hurt.  Really hurt."  Somebody ss Me?

"No!  Don't move him.  Call for an ambulan "Someone already has--his
father, I think."

"Jory, Jory .. . you can't be hurt."  Melodic she ran forward.  Bart
tried to hold her back.  St.  to scream when she saw the blood.

"Jory, d( please don't die!"  she sobbed over and over a I knew how she
felt.  As soon as the curt down.  every dancer after "dying" on stage
jur immediately .. . and Jory wasn't doing that.

Cries came from everywhere.  The scent of bl all around us.  And I was
staring at Bart, v wanted this particular opera to be made into;

Why this role for Jory?  Why, Bart, why?

planned for the accident weeks ago?

How had Bart staged it?  I picked up a has sand and found it wet.  I
glared at Bart, wh< down at Jory's sprawled body, wet from swea from
blood, gritty from sand.  Bart had eyes i Jory as two attendants from
the ambulance Ml carefully upon a stretcher and placed him in the the
white ambulance.

Running forward, I shoved my way to where look inside the ambulance.

"Will he live?"  1 a:

young doctor who was feeling lory's pulse.  Q nowhere in sight.

The doctor smiled.

"Yes, he'll live.  He's young and he's strong, but it's my calculated
guess it will be a long time before he dances again."

And Jory had said ten million times that he couldn't live without
dancing.

When the Party Is Over 1 crowded into the ambulance beside Jory, and
soon Chris was at my side, both of us crouching over Jory's still form
strapped to the stretcher.  He was unconscious, one side of his face
very badly bruised and battered and blood ran from many small wounds. I
couldn't bear to look at his injuries, which overwhelmed me, much less
concentrate on those horrible marks I'd seen on his back ... , Closing
my eyes, I turned my head to see toe bright jights of Foxworth Hall
like fireflies on the mountain.

Later I was to hear from Cindy that at first all the guests | had been
appalled, not knowing what to do or how to Wt, but Bart had rushed in
to tell them Jory was only slightly injured and would be fully
recovered in a few 4ays.

Up front, seated with the driver and an attendant, was Melodic in her
black formal, glancing back from : time totime and asking if Jory had
come around yet f Chris, will he live?"  she asked in a voice thin with
5anxiety.

"Of course he'll live," said Chris, feverishly working over Jory,
ruining his new tux with the blood.

"He's not bleeding now, I've stopped that."  He turned to the intern
and asked for more dressings.

< The screaming of the siren rattled my nerves, made me afraid soon
all of us would be dead.  How cou have deceived myself into believing
Foxworth I would ever offer us anything but grief71 began to p closing
my eyes and saying the same words over ;

over again.  Don't let Jory die, God, please don't t him.  He's too
young, he hasn't lived long enough.

unborn child needs him.  Only after I'd kept this up several miles did
I remember that I'd said almost same prayers for Julian--and Julian had
died.

By this time Melodie was hysterical.  The hit started to inject her
with some drug, but quick] stopped him.

"No!  She's pregnant and that would hi her child."  I leaned forward
and hissed at Mekx "Stop screaming!  You're not helping Jory, or y
baby," She screamed louder, turning to beat at me 1 small but strong
fists.  1 "I wish we'd never come ... I told him it w| mistake, coming
to that house, the worst mistake ofi lives, and now he's paying,
paying, paying ."| and on saying that until finally her voice went,
andl| was opening his eyes and grinning at us.  | "Hi," he said
weakly.

"Seems Samson didn*t| after au."  |j I sobbed in relief.  Chris smiled
and bathed N head cuts with some solution.

"You're going to be| son, just fine.  Just hold on to that."  '"Jj,
Jory closed his eyes before he murmured in a '^ way, "Was the
performance good?"  Nj|| "Cathy, you tell him what you think," Chris
sujj ed in the calmest voice.  l| "You were incredible, darling," I
said, leaning 6^| his pate face smeared with makeup.  '.|| "TeB Mel not
to worry," he whispered as if he||| her crying; then he drifted into
sleep from the se(|| Chris injected into his arm.  "iA

We paced the hospital waiting room outside ||H operating theater.
Melodic was by this time a linf sagging from fear, her eyes wide and
staring.  '*s--his father .. . same as his father," repeating the same
words over so much I thought she was drilling that notion into her
head--and into mine.  I, too, could have screamed from the agony of
believing Jory might die.

More to keep her quiet than anything else, I took her into my arms ana
smothered her face against my breasts, soothing her with motherly words
of assurance when I didn't feel confident about anything.  We were,
again, caught in the merciless clutches of Fbxworths.

How could I have been so happy earlier in the day?

Where had my intuition fled?  Bart had come into his own, and in so
doing he had taken from Jory what belonged to him, the most valuable
possession he had--his good health and his strong, agile body.

Hours later, five surgeons wearing green brought out my firstborn son
from the operating theater.  Jory was covered to his chin with
blankets.  All his summer tan had disappeared, leaving him as pale as
his father had liked to keep his complexion.  His dark curly hair
seemed wet.  Bruises were under his closed eyes.

"He'll be all right now, won't he?"  asked Melodic, jumping up to hurry
after the stretcher rolling fast toward an elevator.

"He will recover and be as good as new, won't he?"

Desperation made her voice high and shrill.

No one said a word.

They lifted Jory off the stretcher by using, the sheet, carefully
deposited him on his bed, then chased all of us out but Chris, In the
hall outside I held Melodic and waited, waited.

Melodic and I went back to Boxworth Hall toward dawn, when Jory's
condition seemed stable enough for me to relax a little.  Chris stayed
on, sleeping in some little room used by the interns on duty.

I had wanted to stay as well, but Melodic grew ever more hysterical,
hating the way Jory slept, hating the medicinal smell of the hospital
corridors; hating the nurses who scurried in and out of his room with
trays of instruments and bottles; hating the doctor:

wouldn't give her, or me, a straight answer.

A taxi drove us both back to the Hall, where had been left burning near
the front doors.  The si just peeking over the horizon, flushing the
sky wi pink.  Little birds woke up and fluttered tei fledgling wings,
while their parents sang or c their territorial rights before they flew
away 1 food.  I supported Melodic up the stairs and in house.  She was
by this time so deeply de tache reality that she staggered and seemed
drunk.

Up one side of the dual staircase carefully, s with my arm about her
waist, thinking every sec the baby she was carrying and the effect this
might have on him or her.  In the bedroom she :

with Jbry she couldn't manage to undress, her trembled so badly.  I
helped, then slipped a nigh over her head, tucked her into the bed and
turn the light.

"I'll stay if you want," I said, as she la] bleak and hopeless looking.
She wanted me to wanted to talk about Jory and the doctors who w< give
us any encouragement.

"Why do they do she cried.

How could I tell her how doctors protected selves with silence until
they were sure of their f covered for all Jory's doctors, telling
Melodic thi had to be all right or they would have wanted stay on

Finally she drifted into restless sleep, frettir tossing, calling
Jory's name, waking up often t back to awareness and cry all over
again.  Her ai was painful to see and hear, and I was left fee!

wrung out as she was.

An hour later, much to my relief, she sank int< sleep, as if even she
knew she had to escape that I had a few minutes of sleep myself before
barged into my room and perched anxiously on a waiting for me to wake
up.  The very sinking mattress when she sat opened my eyes.  I saw
lies

opened my arms and held her while she cried.

"He is going to be all right.  Momma?"  / "Darling, your father is
there with him.  Jory had to have immediate surgery.  He's in a private
room now, asleep and resting comfortably.  Chris will be there when he
wakes up.  I'm going to eat a quick breakfast and then drive to the
city to be there, too.  I want you to stay here with Melodic " Already
I'd decided that Melodic was much too hysterical to go to the hospital
with me.

Instantly Cindy protested, saying she wanted to go and see Jory
herself.  I shook my head, insisting she stay.

"Melodic is his wife, darling, and she is taking this very hard, and in
her condition she shouldn't go back to the hospital until we know the
truth about Jory.  I've never seen a woman carry on so much about being
in a hospital.  She seems to think they are as bad as funeral homes.
Now stay, and say anything to keep her calm, wait on her, see that she
eats and drinks.  Give her the peace she is seeking desperately now ..
. and I'll tele phone when I know something."

Melodic, when I peeked in a few minutes later, was so deeply asleep I
knew I'd made the right decision.

"Explain to her why I didn't wait for her to wake up^ Cindy, lest she
think I'm taking her place ..."

I drove very fast toward the hospital.

Because Chris was a doctor, I'd spent a great deal of my life going to
and from hospitals, letting him off, picking him up, visiting friends,
meeting a few patients he particularly favored.  We'd taken Jory to the
best hospital in our area.  The corridors were broad to allow the
passing and turning of stretchers, the windows were wide, with plants
hanging.  Every modern diagnostic aid was there, despite the expense.
But the room where Jory slept on and on was tiny, so tiny, as were all
the rooms.  The single window was so recessed it was difficult to look
outside, and when I did, I saw nothing but the entranceway to the
hospital and, farther away, another wing.

Chris was still sleeping, though a nurse told been in to check on Jory
five times during t!

"He's really a devoted father, Mrs.  Sheffield.

I turned to stare down at Jory, who now heavy cast on his body with a
window through' incision could be viewed and treated, if nee kept
staring at his legs, wondering why th twitch, bend, move--they weren't
enclosed in Suddenly an arm slipped around my waist a lips brushed the
nape of my neck.

"Didn't I order you not to come back until I Relief immediately flooded
me.  Chris w "Chris, how can I stay away?  I've got to kno wrong, or I
can't sleep.  Tell me the truth, i Melodie isn't here to scream and
faint."

He sighed and bowed his head.  Only then how exhausted he looked, still
wearing his rum soiled tux.

"It's not good news, Cathy.  I'd rath into details until I've talked
again with his p and surgeon."

"Don't you pull that old trick on me!  I want I'm not one of your
patients who thinks do gods on pedestals and I can't ask questions.

back broken?  Was his spinal cord injured?  Wil again?  Why doesn't he
move his legs?"

First he pulled me out into the hall, in case awake but had his eyes
closed.  Softly he closed behind him and then led me into a tiny cubic
only doctors were allowed.  He sat me down, to tower above me, and made
me realize I was hear very serious news.  Only then did he speak spine
was broken, Cathy.  You guessed coned lower lumbar fracture, so we can
be grateful t wasn't higher.  He will have full use of his ana!

eventually gain control over his bladder and i functions, but right now
they are in shock, so 1 and tubes and bags will function until he rq
feeling of when he has to go."

He paused, but I wasn't letting him off that easily.

"The spinal cord?  Tell me that it wasn't crushed."

"No, not crushed, but damaged," he said reluctantly.

"It is bruised severely enough to keep his legs paralyzed."

I froze.  Oh, no!  Not Jory!  I cried out, with no more control than
Melodic.

"He'll never walk again?"  I whispered, feeling myself go pale and weak
and slightly light-headed.  When next I opened my eyes, Chris was on
his knees by my side, gripping both my hands hard.

"Hold on ... he's alive, and that's what counts.  He won't die---but
he'll never walk again."

Sinking, I was drowning, drowning, going under again in that same old
familiar pool of hopeless despair.

The same little sparkling swan head fish rushed to nibble on my brain,
taking bits out of my soul.

"And that means he'll never dance again ... never walk:, never dance
... Chris, what will this do to him?"

He drew me into his embrace and bowed his head into my hair, his breath
stirring it as he spoke in a choked way.

"He'U survive, darling.  Isn't that what all of us do when tragedy
comes into our lives?  We take it, grin and bear it and make the best
of what we have left.

We forget what we had yesterday and concentrate on what we have today,
and when we can teach Jory how to accept what has happened, we will
have our son back again--disabled, but alive, intelligent, organically
healthy."

j I was jerking with sobs as he talked on.  His hands ran g up and down
my back, his lips brushed over my eyes, , my lips, finding ways to calm
me.

|< "We've got to be strong for him, darling.  Cry all you I want now,
for you can't cry when he opens his eyes and I sees you.  You can't
show pity.  You can't be too | sympathetic.  When he wakes up, he's
going to look into I your eyes, and he's going to read your mind.
Whatever fears or pity that you show on your face or in your eyes is
going to determine how he looks and feels about his handicap.  He's
going to be devastated, we both that.  He'll want to die.  He'll think
about his fat hi how Julian escaped his plight, we have to keep 1 mind
as well.  We'll have to talk to Cindy and Ba explain to them the roles
they'll play in his reo We have to form a strong family unit to see him
th this ordeal, for it's going to be rough, Cathy rough."

I nodded, trying to control my flow of tears, fei was inside Jory,
knowing every tormented momi had ahead was going to tear me apart,
too.

Chris went on while he kept his arms about i support.

"Jory's constructed his entire life a dancing, and he will never dance
again.  No, don' at me with that hope.  NEVER AGAIN!  There is
possibility someday he'll have enough strength up on his feet and pull
himself around on crutchc but he'll never walk normally.  Accept that.
Cat!

"We have to convince him that his handicap d matter, that he's the same
person he was before.

most importantly, we have to convince ourselve he's just as manly, just
as human .. . for many fa change when a member becomes disabled.  They
become too sympathetic, or they become alien at if the handicap changes
the person they used t and know.  We have to keep to middle ground an
Jory find the strength to see this through."

I heard a little of^ what he said.

Crippled!  My Jory was crippled.  A paraple shook my head, disbelieving
that fate would kee that way.  Tears fell like rain upon Chris's i
ruffled, dress shirt.  How would Jory live when he] out he was going to
spend the rest of his life conffi awheetehair?

Cruel Fate.

The sun was noon high and still Jory hadn't opened his eyes.  Chris
decided we both needed a hearty meal, and hospital food was always
season less sawdust or shoe leather.

"Try to nap while I'm gone, and hold on to your control.  If he
awakens, try not to panic, keep your cool and smile, smile, smile.
He'll be fuzzy-minded and won't be fully cognizant.  I'll try to hurry
back .. ."

I'd never sleep; I was too busy planning on how to act when Jory
eventually woke up long enough to start asking questions.  Chris had no
sooner closed the door behind him than Jory stirred, turned his head
and weakly smiled at me.

"Hey, you been there au night?

Or two nights?  When was it?"

"Last night," I whispered hoarsely, hoping he wouldn't notice my
throaty voice.

"You've been sleeping for hours and hours."

"You look exhausted," he said weakly, touchingly showing more concern
for me than for himself.

"Why don't you go back to the Hall and sleep?  I'm okay.  I've fallen
before, and, like before, in a few days I'll be whirling all over that
house again.  Where's my wife?"

Why wasn't he noticing the cast that bulged out his chest?  Then I saw
his eyes were unfocused and he hadn't fully pulled out of the sedatives
given him to ease the pain.  Good ... if only he wouldn't start asking
questions I wanted Chris to answer.

Sleepily he closed his eyes and dozed off, but ten minutes later he was
again awake and asking questions.

"Mom, I feel strange.  Never felt like this before.  Can't say I like
the way I feel.  Why this cast?  Did I break something?"

"The temple papier-mach6 columns fell," I w explained.

"Knocked you out.  What a way to en ballet--too real."

"Did I bring down the house--or the sky^ quipped, his eyes opening and
brightening ai sedative I'd hoped would keep him hazy won "Cindy was
great, wasn't she?  You know, each ti see her, she's more beautiful.
And she's really a good dancer.  She's like you.  Mom, improving
age."

I sat on my hands to keep them from twisting!

betraying way my mother used to use her has smiled, got up to pour a
glass of water.  "den orders.  You've got to drink a lot."  s He sipped
as I supported his head.  It was so sQ to see him helpless, when he'd
never been bedril His colds had come and gone in a matter of day not
once had he missed a day in school or ballet except in order to visit
Bart in the hospital after a his many accidents that never left him
permafl damaged.  Jory had sprained his ankles dozens ofti torn
ligaments, fallen, gotten up, but he'd never 1 serious injury until
now.  All dancers spent some tending small injuries, and sometimes even
large ri but a broken back, a damaged spinal cord--it was dancer's most
dreaded nightmare.  :

Again he dozed off, but before long he had he;

open and was asking questions about himself.  Pea on the side of his
bed, i rattled on and on nonseoi praying that Chris would come back.  A
pretty 1 came in with Jory's lunch tray, all liquids.  That sW
something to do.  I fiddled with a half-pint milk em opened yogurt,
poured milk and orange juice, tud napkin under his chin and began with
the straw!

yogurt.  Immediately he gagged and made a fac shoved my hands away,
saying he could feed hia but he didn't have an appetite.  ,4 Once I had
the tray out of the way, I hoped he^i asleep.  Instead he lay there
staring at me, his114

lucid.

"Can youteH me, now why Ifeelsoweak?  Why I can't eat?  Why I can't
move my legs?"

"Your father has gone out to bring in food for the two of us, snack
food that's not good for you, but it win be tastier than what we can
eat in the cafeteria down stairs.  Let him tell you.  He knows all the
technical terms that I don't."

"Mom, I wouldn't understand technical terms.  Tell me in your own
layman's words why can't I feel or move my legs?"

His dark sapphire eyes riveted on me.

"Mom, I'm not a coward.  I can take whatever you have to say.  Now
spill it out, or else I'm going to presume my back is broken and my
legs are paralyzed and I'm never going to walk again."

My heart quickened as my head lowered.  He'd said all this in a jocular
way, as if none of it could possibly be true ... and he'd stated his
condition exactly.

Desperation came to his eyes as I faltered, trying to find just the
right words, and even the right ones would rip out his heart.  Just
then Chris strode in the door, carrying a paper sack with
cheeseburgers.

"Well," he said brightly, throwing Jory a pleased smile, "look who's
awake and talking."  He took out a burger and handed it to me.

"Sorry, Jory, you can't have anything solid for a few days due to your
operation; Cathy, eat that thing white it's still hot," he ordered,
sitting down himself and immediately unwrapping his burger.  I saw he'd
bought two super ones for himself.  He bit into it with relish before
he brought out the cola drinks.

"Didn't have the lime you wanted, Cathy.  It's Pepsi."

"It's cold, with lots of ice, that's all I want."

Jory watched us narrowly as we ate.  I forced down the cheeseburger,
knowing he was suspicious.  Chris did an admirable job of eating two
burgers and one card board dish of French fries while I managed to eat
only half of my burger, and didn't touch the greasy potatoes.

Chris balled up his napkin and tossed it in a can, along with our other
trash.

By this time Jory's licks were growing heavy; ^ struggling hard to
stay awake.

"Dad ... are you to tell me now?"

"Yes, anything you want to know," Chris ni<^ sit on Jory's bed and
placed his strong hand on i Jory's.  Jory blinked back sleep.

"Dad, I'm not feeling anything below my waia the time you and Mom ate,
I was trying to wigo toes and I couldn't.  If I've broken my back, and
why I'm in this cast, I want to know the truth, all i "I intend to tell
you all the truth," said staunchly.

"Is my spine broken?"

"Yes."  v "Are my legs paralyzed?"

"Yes."

Jory blinked, looked stunned, gathered his sta for one last question.

"Will I dance again?"

"No-" ... I .. -- ..."  ...;

Jory closed his eyes, tightened his lips into a th and lay perfectly
still.  ;" I stepped closer to lean above him, and teodj brushed back
the dark curls fallen over hiTj '^Darling, I know you're devastated. It
wasn' the your father to tell you the truth, but you have to4 You're
not alone in this.  We're all involved.  We'< to see you through, to do
everything we can", adjust.  Time will heal your body so you won't fee
and eventually you'll accept what can't be hein love you.  Melodic
loves you.  And you'll be a come this very January.  You reached the
top g profession and have been there five years ... more than most
people accomplish in a lifetime Briefly he met my eyes.  His were full
of bitd anger, frustration, a rage so terrible I had totin;

It was all over him, his fierce resentment at havig cheated and stolen
from before he'd had enoun When I looked again, his eyes were closed.

his fingers on his pulse.

"Jory, I know y< sleeping.  I'm going to give you another sedative so
you can really sleep, and when you wake up, you are going to think
about how important you are to a great many people.  You're not going
to feel sorry for yourself and allow yourself to wallow in bitterness.
There are people walking the streets today who will never experience
what you've already had.  They haven't traveled the world over and
heard the thundering applause and cries of 'bravo, bravo!"  They'll
never know the heights that were yours and can be yours again in some
other field of artistic endeavor.  Your world has not stopped, son,
you've only stumbled.  The road to achievement is still ahead and wide
open, only you'll have to roll along that road instead of run or dance;
but you'll achieve again, for it's in you to always win.  You will just
find another craft, another career, and with your family you will find
happiness.  Isn't that what life is all about when you come down to the
basics?  We want someone to love us, to need us, to share our lives ..
. and you have all of that."

My son didn't open his eyes, didn't respond.  He only lay there as
still as if death had already claimed him.

Inside I was screaming, for Julian had reacted in the very same way!
Jory was closing us out, locking himself in the narrow, tight cage of
his mind that refused life without walking and dancing.

Silently Chris readied a hypodermic needle before he swabbed at Jory's
arm, then released the fluid steadily into his arm.

"Sleep, my son.  When you wake up, your wife will be here.  You'll have
to be brave for her sake."

I thought I saw Jory shudder.

We left him deeply asleep, in the care of a private duty nurse
instructed to never leave him alone.  Chris drove us back to Fbxworth
Hall so he could shower and shave, take a nap, put on fresh clothes
before he drove back to be with Jory.  We expected Melodie to return
with us.

Her blue eyes went terror stricken and stark when Chris told her as
kindly as possible Jory's condition.

She uttered a small cry and clutched at her abdome "You mean ... never
dance?  Never walk?"  she wh pered, as if her voice were failing her.

"There must I something you can do to help him."

Chris soon dashed that hope.

"No, Melodic.  Wh< the spinal cord is injured, it prevents the legs frc
receiving the messages from the brain.  Jory can will 1 tegs to move,
but they won't receive the message, Y have to accept him as he is now,
and do everything y< can to help him survive what is probably the w
traumatic event he will ever have to face."

She jumped to her feet, crying out pitifully, "But i won't be the same
You just said he's refusing to talM can't go there and pretend it
doesn't matter wheni does What wiB he do?  What will / do?  Where willj
go, and how will he survive without walking a!

dancing?  What kind of father will he make now that;

has to spend the rest of his life in a wheefchair?"  :?

Standing, Chris spoke firmly.

"Melodic, this is7!

time for you to panic and throw hysterical tantrmj You have to be
strong, not weak.  I realize you | suffering, too, but you have to show
him a brij| smiling face that will give him the assurance that hasn't
lost the wife he loves.  You don't marry Just| the good times, but for
the bad times as well.  YeT bathe, dress, put on your makeup, style
your hair i go to him and hold him in your arms as best you) and kiss
him and make him believe he has a ' worth staying alive for."

"BUT HE DOESNT!"  she yelled,

DOESNT!"

Then, breaking, she was crying bitter tears.

"I i mean that..  . I love him, I do ... but don't make] go and see him
lying like that so still and quiet.  Id stand to see him until he's
smiling and accepting,!

then maybe I can face up to what he's becomel maybe I can ..."  | 1
disliked her for showing such spineless hysterial failing Jory when he
needed her most.  Steppu1 Chris's side, I linked my ami through his.

"Melodie, do you think for one moment that you are the first wife and
expectant mother to suddenly find the world crashing down on your head?
You're not.  I was expecting Jory when his father was in a fatal auto
accident.  Just be grateful Jory is alive."

She sank in a crumpled heap on a chair and bowed her head into 'her
hands and cried for long minutes oefore she looked up, her eyes darker
and more bleak than before.

"Perhaps death is what he'd prefer--have you thought of that?"

It was the thought that tormented my hours, that Jory would do
something to end his life, as Julian had done.

I wouldn't let it happen.  Not again.

"Then stay here and cry," I said with unintentional hardness.

"But I'm not going to leave my son alone to fight this out by himself.
I'm going to stay with him night and day to see that he doesn't give up
hope.  But you keep this in mind, Melodie: you are carrying his child,
and that makes you the most important person in his life--and important
in mine, too.  He needs you and your support.

I'm sorry if I sound harsh, but I have to think first of him ... why
can't you?"

Speechless, she stared up at me, her lovely face stricken, tears
streaking her cheeks.

"Tell him I'll come soon ... tell him that," she whispered hoarsely.

We told him that.

He kept his eyes dosed, his lips glued together.

There were ways of telling he wasn't asleep, only shutting us out.

Jory refused to eat until tubes were put in his arms to feed him
intravenously.  Summer days came and went;

long days that were full and mostly sad.  Some hours 8ve me faint
pleasures when I was with Chris and ndy, but few gave me hope.

If only, if only were the words that started off my mornings, as they
finished off my nights.  If only I could live my life all over again,
then, perhaps, I could se Jory, Chris, Cindy, Melodie, myself--and even
Bart only.

If only he hadn't danced that role-I tried everything, as Chris and
Cindy did, to p Jbry back from that terribly lonely place where hi
taken himself.  For the first time in my life I could reach him,
couldn't ease his sorrow.

He'd tost what mattered most to him, the use of dancing legs.  With his
legs he'd soon lose his wond fully powerful and skilled body.  I
couldn't look at tin beautifully shaped strong legs lying so still
beneath I sheet, so damned useless.  ;

Had the grandmother been right when she said were cursed, born for
failure and pain?  Had 4 programmed us for tragedy to steal the fruit
of t successes?"  , .- .. , .  , ..j| Had Chris and I achieved anything
of real va| when our son lay as if dead, and our second son refus to
visit Jory but once?  a Bart had stood and stared down at Jory lying
help| and still with his eyes closed, his arms straight dowtf his
sides.

"Oh, my God," he'd whispered befoni| hurried from the tiny room.  sg
Never could I convince him to visit again.

"Mol| he doesn't know I'm there, so what's the good?  I c| bear to see
him like that.  I'm sorry, really sorry-| but I can't help."  <1| I
stared at him, wondering if I had wanted to i| him so much I'd risked
the life of my beloved Jorj| That's when I began to tell myself that I
wasn't jg to believe he'd never walk, never dance again.Th||| a
nightmare to be endured, but eventually we'd aw|| and Jory would be
whole again, just as he'd beeng I told Chris my plan to convince Jory
he could ai|| would walk again, even if he never danced.  ^ "Cathy, you
can't give him false hope."  wA| Chris, looking terribly distressed.

"All you can if1 is help him accept what can't be changed.  Give him
your kind of strength.  Help him but don't lead him down false trails
that will bring him only disappointment  I know it will be difficult.
I'm in hell, too, just as much as you are.  But remember, our hell is
nothing compared to his.  We can sympathize and feel dreadfully sorry,
but we're not inside his skin.  We're not suffering his loss he's all
alone in that.  Facing up to agony you and I can't even begin to
understand.  All we can do is be here when he decides to pull out of
his protective shell.  Be here to give him the confidence he needs to
go on .. . for damned if Melodic is giving him anything!"

That was something almost as awful as Jory's injury .  that his own
wife would shun him now as if he were a leper.  Both Chris and I
pleaded with her to come with us, even if she said nothing but hello, I
love you, she had to come.

"What can I say that you haven't already said?"  she screamed.

"He doesn't want me to come and see him like that!  I know him better
than either of you do.  If he wanted to see me, he'd say he did.
Besides, I'm afraid to go, afraid I'll cry and say all the wrong
things, and even if I stay quiet, he might open his eyes and see
something on my face that would make him feel worse, and I don't want
to be responsible for what might happen then.  Stop insisting!  Wait
until he wants me to visit..  . and then, maybe, I can find the courage
I need."

She flew away from Chris and me as if we carried with us some plague
that might contaminate her dream that this nightmare would end happily,
Standing in the hall outside our rooms was Bart, staring after Melodic
with his heart in his eyes.  He turned to glare at me.

"Why don't you leave her alone?  I've been.  to see him, and it tore me
all apart.  Certainly in her condition she needs to find some security,
even if it's only in her

SKJI?",."- -.

H^teams.  She sleeps a great deal, you know.  Wh tay with him, she
cries, walks as if in a dream, w eyes unfocused.  She half eats.  I
have to plead w to swallow, to drink.  She stares at me, and obey;

child.  Sometimes I have to spoon the food in mouth, hold the glass for
her to sip.  Mother, Mel in shock--and all you think about is your
preciou not caring what you do to her!"

Sorry now, I hurried to her side and held her arms.

"It's all right.  1 understand now.  Ba explained how you can't accept
this yet... b Melodic, please try.  Even if he doesn't open h and
speak, he's aware of what's going on, an comes to see him and who
doesn't."

Her head was on my shoulder.

"Cathy ..

trying.  Just give me time."

The next morning Cindy came into our be without knocking, causing Chris
to frown.  She have known better.  But I had to forgive her after her
pale face and frightened expression.

"Momn Daddy, I've just got to tell you something, am don't know if I
should.  Or if it really means anyt I was distracted from her words by
the out wore: a white bikini so brief it was barely then swimming pool
Bart had ordered was now coi and this was the first day it Was ready.
Jory's accident was not going to inhibit Bart's style of "Cindy, I wish
you would wear those beach W at the poolside.  And that suit is much
too skim] She appeared startled, crestfallen and hurt be criticized her
suit.  Glancing down at herself brief shrugged indifferently.

"Holy Christ, Momma!

friends of mine wear string bikinis--you shou those if you think this
one is immodest.  Some friends wear nothing at all..  Her large blu
studied mine seriously, Chris tossed her a towel, which she wrapped a
herself.

"Momma, I've got to say I don't like tl you make me feel, somehow
dirty, like Bart mal

feel when.  I came to tell you something I overheard Bart talking
about."

"Go on, Cindy," urged Chris.

"Bart was on the telephone.  He'd left his door ajar.  I heard him
talking to an insurance agency."  She paused, sat dpwn on our unmade
bed and lowered her head before she spoke again.  Her soft, silky hair
hid her expression.

"Mom, Dad, it seems Bart took out some kind of special 'party'
insurance in case any of his guests were injured."

"Why, that's not at all unusual," said Chris.

"The house is covered by homeowner's insurance.  but with two hundred
guests, he needed plenty of extra insurance that night."

Cindy's head jerked upward.  She stared at her father, then at me.  A
sigh escaped her lips.

"I guess it's okay then.  I just thought maybe ... maybe ..."

"Maybe what?"  I asked sharply.  :

"Momma, you picked up a handful of that sand that spilled from the
columns when they broke.  Wasn't the sand supposed to be dry?  It
wasn't dry.  Someone made it wet and that made it heavier.  The sand
didn't oome pouring out like it was supposed to.  It made those columns
stand upright and the sand clumped down on Jory like cement.  Otherwise
Jory wouldn't have been hurt so severely."

"I knew about the insurance," said Chris duBy, refusing to meet my
eyes.

"I didn't know about the wet sand."

Neither Chris nor I could find words to defend Bart.

Still, surely, surely he wouldn't want to injure Jory or kill him?  At
some point in our lives, we had to believe in Bart, give him the
benefit of doubt.

Chris paced our bedroom, his brow deeply wrinkled as he explained one
of the stage crew could have put water on the sand, hoping to make the
columns steadier.  It didn't have to be Bart's orders he was
following.

All three of us descended the stairs solemnly, finding Bart outside on
the morning terrace with Melodic.

With the mountains in the distance, the woods 1 them, the gardens lush
with blooming flower setting was beautifully romantic.  Sunlight fi
through the lacy leaves of the fruit trees, slipped the brightly
striped umbrella that was suppos shield the occupants seated at the
white wrougl table.

Melodic, to my surprise, was smiling as her lingered on the strong
lines of Bart's face.

"Bart parents don't understand why I can't bring myselj and see Jdry in
the hospital.  I see your mother k at me resentfully.  I'm
disappointing her, disappc myself.  I'm a coward about illnesses.
Always been.  But I know what's going on.  I know Jory 1 that bed,
staring up at the ceiling, refusing to 1 know what he's thinking.  He's
lost not only the i his legs, but all the goals he's set for himself.

thinking of his father and the way he died.  He's to withdraw from the
world by making himself nothing thing that we won't miss when one day h
himself just like his father did."

Bart quickly looked at her disapprovingly.

"Me you don't know my brother.  Jory would nev< himself.  Maybe he does
feel lost now, but he'll around."

"How can he?"  she wailed.

"He's lost the important thing in his life.  Our marriage was has only
on our love for each other, but on our n careers.  Each day I tell
myself that I cangp to hio smile, and give him what he needs.  Then I )
flounder, and wonder what can I say.  I'm not god words like your
mother.  I can't smite and be opti like his father--'* "Chris is not
Jory's father," stated Bart flatly.

"Oh, to Jory Chris is his father.  At least the oni counts most.  He
loves Chris, Bait, respects an mires him, and forgives him for what you
call his She went on while we three hung back, waiting t( more of why
she was acting as she was.

1 4

And all we heard was a concluding statement.

"I'm ashamed to say it, but I can't go and see him like he is."

"Then what are you going to do?"  asked Bart in a cynical way.  He
sipped his coffee while staring directly into her eyes.  If he'd turn
his head just a little, he'd see the three of us watching and
listening, and learning so much.

Her answer was an anguished wait.

"I don't know!

I'm coming apart inside!  I hate waking up and knowing that Jory will
never be a real husband to me again.  If you don't mind, I'm going to
move into the room across the hall that doesn't hold so many painful
memories of what we used to share.  Your mother doesn't realize that
I'm just as lost as he is, and I'm having his baby!"

Her sobs started then.  Bowing her head, she put it down on the arms
she folded on the table.

"Someone has to think of me, help me someone ..."

"Ill help," said Bart softly, laying his tanned hand on her shoulder.
His right hand set the coffee aside and lightly he brushed that hand
over her spill of flowing hair.

"Whenever you need me, if only for a shoulder to cry on, FB be there,
anytime."

If I'd heard Bart speak as compassionately before to anyone but
Melodic, my heart would have jumped for joy.  As h was, it plunged.
Jory needed his wife--not Bart!

I stepped forward into the sunlight and took my place at the breakfast
table.  Bart snatched his hands away from Melodic, staring at me as if
I'd interrupted something that was very important to him.  Then Chris
and Cindy joined us.  Silence came that I had to break.

"Melodic, I want to have a long talk with you as sow as we mush
breakfast.  You're not going to run away this time, or turn deaf ears,
and shut out my voice with your blank stare."

"Mother!"  flared Bart.

"Can't you see her viewpoint?

Maybe someday Jory will be able to drag himself around on crutches, if
he wears a heavy back brace and a harness ... can you imagine Jory
like that?  I cai Even I don't want to see him like that."

Melodic let out a shrieking cry, jumping to her it Bart followed suit,
to hold her protectively in his an "Don't cry.  Melodic," he soothed in
a tender, car voice.  Melodic uttered another small cry of distr< then
fled the terrace.  The three of us sat quietly star after her.  When
she was out of sight, our eyes fixed Bart, who sat down to finish his
breakfast as if weren't there.  < "Bart," said Chris in this opportune
moment bef< Joel joined us, "what do you know about the wet sa in the
papier-mache columns?"  .  ;

"I don't understand," said Bart smoothly, appear very distracted as he
stared at the door through wfa Melodic had disappeared.

"Then I'll explain more earefuBy," went on CA "it was understood the
sand would be dry so it we spill out easily and not harm anyone.  Who
wet!

sand?"  .  , - - ; ... - ^..  <. ^ Narrowing his eyes first, Bart
answered sharply, .1 now I'm going to be accused of causing Jory's
accKf --and deliberately ruining the best time I've had u| he was hurt.
Why, it's just like it used to be when N nine and ten.  My fault,
everything was always my fin When Cover died, you both presumed I was
the ob| wrap the wire about his neck, never giving me;| benefit of a
doubt.  When Apple was killed, agaia.1 thought it was me, when you knew
I loved both CWj, aad Apple.  I've never killed anything.  Even whefl^
found out later it was John Amos, you put me thrfij hell before you
said you were sorry.  Well, say y^j sorry now, for damned if I'll take
the blame for Jq broken back!"  m I wanted to believe him so much tears
came i| eyes.

"But who wet the sand, Bart?"  I asked, k^j forward and reaching for
his hand.

"Somebody Ah His dark eyes went bleak.

"Several of the workl|| disliked me for being too bossy but I don't
think they would do anything to hurt toy.  Afterifflgi wasn't me up
there."  .. / Ai^'AS For some reason I believed him.  He didn't know
anything about the wet sand, and when I met Chris's eyes, I knew he was
convinced as well.  But in asking, we'd alienated Bart ... again.

He sat silently now, not smiling as he finished his meal.  la the
garden I glimpsed Joel in die shadows of dense shrubbery as if he'd
been eavesdropping on oar conversation while pretending to admire the
flowers in bloom.

"Forgive us if we hurt you.  Bait.  Please, do what you can to help us
find out who did wet the sand.  But for that, Jory would have the use
of his legs."

Wisely CSndy had kept very quiet during all of this.

Bart started to reply, but at that moment Trevor stepped from the house
and began serving us.  Quickly I swallowed a light breakfast, then rose
to go.  I had to do something to bring back Melodie's sense of
responsibility.

"Excuse me, Chris, Cindy.  lake your tune and finish your breakfast.
I'll join you later."

Joel slipped out of the shadows of the dense shrubbery and seated
himself beside Bart.  As I turned to glance back over my shoulder, I
saw Joel lean toward Bart, whispering something I couldn't make out
Feeling heavy of heart, 1 headed for the room that Melodic now used.

Face down on the bed she and Jory bad shared, Melodic was crying.  I
perched on the side of her bed, thinking about all the right words to
say--but where were the right words?

"He's alive.  Melodic, and that counts, doesn't it?  He's still with
us.  With you.  You can peach out and touch him, talk to him, say all
the things I wish I'd said to his father.  Go to the hospital.  Every
day you stay away, he dies a bit more.  If you don't go, if I you just
stay here and feel sorry for yourself, you'll live jto regret it.  Jory
can still hear you.  Melodic.  Don't 1 leave him now.  He needs you now
more than he's ever f needed you before."

Wild and hysterical, she turned to beat at me ' small fists.  I caught
her wrists to keep from bi injured.

"But I can't face him, Qnhy1 I've known he there, silent and alone
where I can't reach him.

doesn't answer when you speak, so why would respond to me?  If I kissed
him and he said or nothing, I'd die inside.  Besides, you don't really
ki him, not like I do.  You're his mother, not his wife.

don't realize just how important his sexual life i him.  Now he won't
have any.  Do you have any ide what that one thing is doing to him?  To
say nothin losing the use of his legs, and giving up his career:

so wanted to prove himself for his father's sake- real father's sake.
And you kid yourself to think alive.  He isn't.  He's already left you,
Cathy.  Left too.  He doesn't have to die.  He's already dead w he's
still alive."

How her impassioned words stung me.  Maybe cause they were all too
true.

I panicked inside, realizing that Jory could very' do as Julian had
done--find a way to end his life.  It to console myself.  Jory was not
like his father, he like Chris.  Eventually Jory would come around make
the best of what he had left.

I sat on that bed, staring at my daughter-in-law, realized I didn't
know her.  Didn't know the girl I'd i off and on since she was eleven.
I'd seen the facade pretty, graceful giri who'd always seemed to ac
Jory.

"What kind of woman are you, Melodic?  s what kind?"  i She nipped over
on her back and glared an grit me.1'-" .  . . . s "Not your kind,
Catby!"  she almost screan "You're made of special rugged stuff.  I'm
not.  1^ spoiled like you spoil your dear little Cindy.  I wa only
child and was given everything I wanted.  I fo out when I was small
that life isn't all pretty pie book fables.  And I didn't want it that
way.  When I'

old enough, Iran to hide hi the ballet.  I told myself only in the
world of fantasy could I find happiness.

When I met Jbry he seemed the prince I needed.

princes don't fall and injure their spinal cords, Cathy.

They are never crippled.  How can I live with Jory when I don't see him
as a prince anymore?  How, Cathy?  Tell me how I can blind my eyes, and
numb my senses, so I won't feel revulsion when he touches me."

I stood up.

I stared down at her reddened eyes, her face made puffy from so much
crying and felt all my admiration for her fade away.  Weak, that's what
she was.  What a fool to believe that Jbry wasn't made of the same
flesh and blood as any other man.

"Suppose the injury had been yours.  Melodic.  Would you want Jory to
desert you?"

She met my eyes squarely.

"Yes, I would."

I left Melodic still crying on her bed.

Chris was waiting for me downstairs.

"I thought if you went this morning, I'd visit him this afternoon, and
Melodic can go to him tonight with Cindy.  I'm sure you convinced her
to go."

"Yes, she'll go, but not today," I said without meeting his eyes.

"She wants to wait until he opens his eyes and speaks--so that's my
plan, to somehow reach him and make him respond."

"If anyone can do that, it will be you," Chris murmured in my hair.

Jory lay supine on his hospital bed.  The fracture was so low on his
hack that one fine day in the far future he might even gain back his
potency.  There were certain exercises he could do later on.

I'd bought two huge long boxes of mixed bouquets that I'd put into tall
vases.

"Good morning, darling," I said brightly as I entered his small,
sterile room.

Jory didn't turn his head to took my way.  He lay as I'd seen him last,
staring straight up at the ceiling.

Kissing his faintly chilled face, I began to arrange ti flowers.

"You'll be happy to know Melodic is no long suffering from morning
sickness.  But she's tired most the time.  I remember I was tired, too,
when I w pregnant with you."

I bit down on my tongue, for I'd lost Julian not loi after I knew I was
with child.

"It's a strange kind summer, Jory.  I can't say I really care for Joel.
I seems very fond of Bart, but he does nothing b criticize Cindy.  She
can do nothing right in Joel's eye or in Bart's.  I'm thinking it would
be a good idea send Cindy off to a summer camp until school starts Ac
fall.  You don't think Cindy is misbehaving, < yw?"

No answer.

I tried not to sigh, or look at him with impatience.

drew a chair close to Jory's bed and caught hold of I limp hand.  No
response.  It was like holding a dead fis "fcry, they're going to keep
on feeding you intrav Boosty," I warned.

"And if you still refuse to eat, th vi put tubes in other veins, and
use other methods keep you alive, even if we have to eventually put y<
en every machine that will keep you going until y< stop acting stubborn
and come back to us."

He didn't blink, or speak.

"AH right, Jbry.  I've been easy on you up un io -but I've had enough!"
My tone turned harsh.

Icweyou too much to see you lie there and will yours 6 die.  So you
don't care about anything anymore, < ?w?  .  , "So you're crippled and
you'll have to sit in kdcfaair until you can manage crutches, if you ev
b that much ambition.  So you're feeling sorry f ^ttfetf, and wondering
bow you can go on.  Othc hwdone it.  Others have made lives for
themselvt dbeen in worse condition than you are.  So you d ycd what
others do doesn't count when it's yo body, and your life and maybe
you're right.  It doesn't matter what others do, if you want to think
selfishly.

"Tell me that the future holds nothing for you now.  I thought that,
too, at first.  I don't like to see you tying there so still, Jory.  It
breaks my heart, your father's heart, and Cindy is beside herself with
worry.  Bart is so concerned he can't bear to come and see you lying
there so withdrawn.  And what do you think you're doing to Melodic?
She's carrying your child, Jory.

She's crying all day long.  She's changing into a different person
because she hears us talking about your lack of response and your
stubborn inability to accept what can't be changed.  We're sorry,
terribly sorry you've lost the use of your legs but what can any of us
do but make the best out of a miserable situation?  Jory, come back to
us.  We need you with us.  We're not wilting to stand back and watch
you kill yourself.  We love you.

We don't give a damn if you can't dance and can't walk, we just want
you alive, where we can see you, talk to you  Speak to us, Jory.  Say
something, anything.  Speak to Melodic when she comes.  Respond when
she touches you ... or you'll lose Melodic and your child.  She loves
you, you know that.  But no woman can live on love when the object of
her love turns away and rejects her.  She doesn't come because she
can't face the rejection that she knows you give us."

During this long, impassioned speech, I'd kept my eyes on his face,
hoping for some slight change of expression.  I was rewarded by seeing
a muscle near his tight lips twitch.

Encouraged, I went on.

"Melodie's parents have called and suggested that she return to them to
have the baby.  Do you want Melodic to go, thinking she can't do
anything more for you?  Jory, please, please, don't do this to all of
us, to yourself  You have so much you can give the world.  You're more
than just a dancer, don't you know that?  When you have talent it's
only one branch on a tree fall of many limbs.  Why, you've never begun
to explore the other branches.  Who knows jii what you might discover?
Remember, I, too, mai dancing my life, and when I couldn't dance, I
didi know what to do with myself.  I'd hear the mus playing, and you'd
be dancing with Melodic in 01 family room.  I'd stiffen inside and try
to shut out tl music that made my tegs want to dance.  My soul we
soaring ... and then I'd crash to earth and cry.  B when I started
writing, I stopped thinking about clan ing.  Jory, you'll find
something of interest to rep la dancing, I know you will."

For the first time since he'd known he would new walk or dance again,
Jory turned his head.  That aloi filled me with breathless joy.

He met my eyes briefly.  I saw the tears there, unsh< but shining.

"Mel is thinking about going to h parents?"  he asked in a hoarse
voice.  , Hope struggled to survive within me.  I didn't kruj what
Melodic would do now, even if he did come ba to being himself.  Yet I
had to say everything right, i so seldom was I adequate.  I'd failed
with Julian, fai with Carrie.  Please, God, don't let me fail with
Jotij "She'd never leave you if you'd come back to h She needs you,
wants you.  You turn away from;

proving to her that you'll turn from her as well.  ^6 prolonged silence
and unwillingness to eat say so mil Jory, so much to keep Melodic
afraid.  She's not I me.  She doesn't bounce back, spring forth and
kick;

yell.  She cries all the time.  She only half eats .. .1 she's
pregnant, Jory.  Pregnant with your baby.  I think about how you felt
when you heard what y father did and consider the effects your death
wiBjg on your child.  Think long and hard about that bef you continue
with what you've got your mind seq Think about yourself, and how much
you wanted| have your own natural father.  Jory, don't be oto|| father
and leave a fatherless child behind you.  Q| destroy us, when you
destroy yourself!"  4 "But, Mom!"  he cried in great distress.

"Whati going to do?  I don't want to sit in a wheelchair the rest of
my life!  I'm angry, so damned angry I want to strike out and hurt
everyone!  What have I done to deserve this kind of punishment?  I've
been a good son, a faithful husband.  But I can't be a husband now.
There's no excitement down there anymore.  I feel nothing below my
waist.  I'd be better off dead than like this!"

My head lowered to press my cheek against his inert hand.

"Maybe you would be, Jory.  So go oh and starve yourself, and will
yourself to die, and never sit in a wheelchair--and don't think about
any of us.  Forget the grief you'll bring into our lives when you're
gone.

Forget about all those Chris and I have lost before.  We can adjust,
we're used to losing those we love most.

We'll just add you to our long list of those to feel guilty about...
for we will feel guilty.  We'll search and search until we find
something we failed to do right, and we'll enlarge that and make it
grow, until it shuts out the sun and all happiness, and we'll go into
our graves blaming ourselves for yet another life gone."

"Mom!  Stop!  I can't stand to hear you talk like that!"

"I can't stand what you're doing to us!  Jory!  Don't give up.  It's
not like you to even think of surrendering.

Fight back.  Tell yourself you're going to lick this and turn out a
better, stronger person because you've faced up to adversities others
can't even imagine."

He was listening.

"I don't know if I want to fight back.  I've lam here since that night
and thought about what I could do.  Don't tell me I don't have to do
anything because you're rich, and I've got money, too.

Life is nothing without a goal, you know that."

"Your child make your child your goal.  Making Melodic happy, another
goal.  Stay, Jory, stay ... I can't bear to lose another, I can't,
can't..  ."  And then I was crying.

And I'd determined not to show weakness and cry.  I sobbed brokenly
without looking at him.

"After your father died, I made my baby the most important thing in my
life.  Maybe I did that to ease a guilty conscience, I don't know. But
when you came along on Valenti night and they laid you on my stomach so
I could you, my heart almost burst with pride.  You well strong
looking, and your blue eyes were so bright."

grasped my finger and didn't want to let go.  Paul there, and Chris,
too.  They both adored you right fi the beginning.  You were such a
happy, well-beha baby.  I think we all spoiled you, and you never had
cry to get what you wanted.  Jory, now I know you incapable of being
spoiled.  You've got an inner strer that win see you through.
Eventually you'll be glad hung on to see that child of yours.  I know
you'll glad."

During all of this, Fd sobbed my words ate incoherently.  I think Jory
felt sorry for me.  His a moved so he could wipe away my tears with the
edff his white sheet.

"Got any ideas about what I could do in a wh chair?"  he asked in a
small, mocking voice.

"A thousand ideas, Jory.  Why, this day isn't I enough to list them.
You can team to play the pi| study art, learn to write.  Or you can
become a ba instructor.  You don't have to strut around to that--all
you need is a good vocabulary and an until tongue.  Or you can do
something more mundane,!

become a CPA, study law and give Bart some coma tion.  In fact, there
is very little you can't do.  We'rig handicapped in one way or another.
You should kj that.  Bart's got his invisible handicap, worse than|
you'll ever have.  Think back to all his problems ^ you were dancing
and having the time of your life| was tormented by psychiatrists
probing painfully!

his deepest self."  ^| His eyes were brighter now, filling with vague
t| that tried to find a mooring.  || "And think about the swimming pool
Bart put o| yard.  Your doctors say your arms are very strong after
some physical therapy you can swim again.^ "What do you want me to do.
Mom?"  His vc"

The Reluctant Wife

Regretfully Chris and I neglected Cindy as we spent most of our time in
the hospital with Jory.  Cindy grew restless and bored in a hostile
house with Joel, who gave her only disapproval, with Bart, who gave her
only scorn, with Melodic, who had nothing to give to anyone.... ,"
,"_^' ,"

"" "."

" ."."

" .. , ' "Momma," she wailed.

"I'm not having a good time!

It's been a terr ille summer, the worst.  Fro sorry Joey's in the
hospital and he won't ever walk or dance again, and I want to do what I
can for him, but what about me?  They only allow him to have two
Visitors at a time and you and Daddy are always with him.  Even when I
do see him, half the time I don't know what to say/ or what to do.  And
I don't blow what to do with myself when I'm here, either.  This house
is so isolated 6010 the rest of the world it's like living on the moon-
boring, boring.  You tell me not to go into the village, not to have
dates unless you know about them, and you're never here to ask when
someone invites me.  You tell me not to swim when Bart and Joel are
around.  You tell me not to do so many things... what is it dial I can
do "Tell me what you want to do," I said with sympathy.

She was sixteen and had expected the vacation to give her great
pleasure.  Now the mansion she'd admired so much in the beginning was
proving, hi some ways, to be as much a prison for her as the old one
had been for us.

She came to sit cross-legged on the door near my feet.

"I don't want to hurt Jory's feelings by leaving, but I'm going crazy
here.  Melodic stays io her room all the time with her door locked and
refuses to let me in.

Joel dries me up with his mean old eyes.  Bart prete he doesn't see
me.  Today a letter came from my fri Bary Boswell, and she's going to
this marvelous si mer camp just a few miles north of Boston, where tt
is a summer stock theater nearby.  And there's sw ming in the lake
nearby, and sailing, and dances e Saturday, plus they teach all kinds
of crafts.  I like tx with girls my own age, and I think that's just
the kin camp I'd enjoy.  You can check into it and see that it a good
reputation, but let me go, please, before ] batty."  : ":

I'd so wanted all of us to have a dose getting know-you-aB-over-again
kind of summer, and here;

was, wanting to leave, and I hadn't spent nearly end time with her.
Still, I easily understood.

"I'll ta0 your father about it tonight," I promised.

"We | you to be happy, Cindy, you know that.  Tm soil we've neglected
you while we care for Jory.  Let's j now about you.  What about boys
you met at Of party, CSndy?  What's going on between yoHy them?"  .  /f
"Bart and Joel hide the keys to the cars so 11 drive off.  And that's
exactly what I would do, peri sion or not.  I want to slip out a
window, but they'B so high above the ground, and I'm afraid to jumpS
fall and hurt myself.  But I think about boys all the tli that's what.
I miss being with them, having dates| going to dances.  I know what
you're thinking, becj Joel is always muttering about me being without
m| I'm trying hard to hang on to them, really l| Yet I don't know how
long I can keep myself a ywfs tell myself that I'm going to be
old-fashioned and|j out until I'm married, but I plan not to marry
untt| at feast thirty.  Then, when I'm out with a boy I | like, and he
begins to apply pressure, I wq surrender.  I like the sensations I feel
leaping u^ making my heart beat faster.  My body wanO^j happen.  Momma,
why can't I find the kind of .< you have?  How do I find the real me?
I'm caught in a world that doesn't really know what it wants, you tell
me that all the time.  So if the world doesn't know, how can I?  I want
to be what you want me to be, sweet and pure, while 7 want to be sexy.
The two contradict each other.  I want you and Daddy to always love me,
sol try to be as sweet as you think I am but I'm not that innocent.
Momma.  I want all the good-looking boys to be in love with roe but
someday I'm not going to be able to hold back."

I smiled to see her troubled expression, her fearful glance to see if
I'd be shocked.  I guessed, too, that she was afraid she'd just ruined
her chances to escape this house.  My arms went around her.

"Hang on to morality, Cindy.  You're much too talented and too
beautiful to give yourself away like a bit of worthless trash.  Think
highly of yourself, and others win as well."

"But Momma how do I say no, and still keep the boys liking me?"

"There are a lot of boys who won't expect you to 'give out," Cindy, and
that's the kind you want.  Those who demand sex for one reason or
another are more than likely to dump you quickly after they get what
they want.  There's something about men that makes them want to conquer
every woman, especially an exception al beauty like you.  Remember,
too, they talk amongst themselves and report on the most intimate
details when they don't really love you."

"Momma.1 You make me feel that being a woman is a trap!  I don't want
them to trap me I want to trap them!  But I have to confess, I'm not
good about resisting.  Bart's made me feel so insecure about myself
that I keep wanting the boys to convince me differently.

But every time from this day forward, when some jerk gets me oo toe
backseat and says hell fell ill if I don't satisfy his lust, I won't
feel sorry for boa.  I'll just think of you and Daddy and bash in his
head or give him the knee where it hurts worse."

She made me laugh, when I hadn't laughed in wee "AH right, darling, I
know in the end you'll do the rij thing.  So let's talk more about that
summer camp s can give your father all the details."

"You mean I haven't spoiled my chances?"  she asl in a delighted way.

"Of course not.  I think Chris will agree that you ne a break from all
this tragedy here."

Chris did agree, thinking as I did that a sbrteenye old girl needed
this special summer for fun.  1 moment Qndy knew, she had to visit Jory
and spill if out to him.

"Now, just because I'm leaving doca mean I don't care, but I'm so
damned bored, Jory.  1 going to write often and send you little gifts."
S embraced him, kissed him, her tears falling to beads on his
clean-shaven face.

"Nothing can take a| what you are, Jory--that wonderful thing that ma)
you so special, and it doesn't live in your legs.  I'd wt you for my
own if you weren't my brother."  .j "Sure you would," he said with some
irony"I thanks anyway."  .  ^ Chris and I left Jory alone with his
nurse long en oil to drive Qndy to the nearest airport, where we ko|
her goodbye and he handed her some "pin" mon She was delighted with the
amount and had to kissj again and again before she backed off, waving
vq ously.

"I'll write real letters," she promised, "note!) postcards, and I'll
send pictures.  Thanks for ew dung, and don't forget to write often and
tell me wft going on.  In a way, living in Foxworth Hall is like be
caught up in some deep, dark, mysterious novel, fl his too frightening
when you're actually livin story."

On the way to the hospital to stay with Jory;

Chris told me of his plans.  We couldn't move to Inow and abandon Jory
to the frail mercies of Bai Joel, and Melodie wasn't able to care for
herself, l less a husband in a back cast, even if she did:

nurse.  And neither Jory nor Melodic would be in any condition to make
the long plane trip to Hawaii for many months.

"I won't know what to do with mysetf when Jory goes back to the Hall
and has his own attendants, any more than Gndy knew how to keep herself
occupied and happy.  Jory won't need me every hour.  I'm going to feel
useless unless I do something meaningful, Cathy.

I'm not an old man.  I still have many good years ahead of me."

Sadly I turned my head to watch him as he kept his eyes on the traffic.
He went on without turning to meet my eyes.

"Medicine has always played a very important part in my life.  That
doesn't mean I'm breaking my promise to share more time with you and my
family than I do professionally.  Just remember what losing a career
means to Jory ..."

Sliding closer on the seat, I lowered my head to his shoulder, telling
him in a choked voice to go ahead and do what he felt was right.  "...
but keep in mind a physician has to have an impeccable record, and
someday there may be gossip about us."

He nodded, saying he'd already considered that fact.

This time he was going into the research side of medicine.  He wouldn't
be meeting tile public, who might recognize him as a R)xworth.  He'd
already thought enough on the subject.  Already he was bored with
staying home and contributing nothing.  He had to do something
important or lose the identity he felt he needed.  I put on a bright
smile even if my heart was sinking, for his dream of Jiving in Hawaii
had also been my dream.

With arms about each other, we entered the huge house that waited with
its gaping jaws wide.

Melodic had sequestered herself in her room, Joel was in that little
room without furniture, down on his knees praying while a single candle
burned in the gloom.

"Where is Bart?"  asked Chris, looking around as if astonished that
anyone would want to spend many hours in such a dismal place.

Joel frowned, then faintly smiled, as if he had KaBember to appear
friendly.

"Bart is off in some drinking himself under the table, as he put it."

xEd'aewr known Bart to do such a thing.  Regret setting up the
performance that ruined his brothi legs, and cost him his career?
Regret for driving Cil away?  Did Bart know how to feel regret?  I dk
know.  I stared blankly at Joel as he paced the flc seeming terribly
upset, when what difference did Ba behavior make to him?

The old man followed us as usually he followed b) "He should know
better," muttered Joel.

"Whores i hariote hang out in bars, though I've warned him ah them."- .
- ^ , .. " .. . a His words intrigued me.

"What's the differa between a whore and a harlot, Joel?"  l His smeary
eyes turned my way.  As if Hght bliw him, he shaded those eyes with his
gnarled hand.  4 "Are you mocking me, niece?  The Bible mentu both
nouns, so there must be some difference."

":', "Perhaps a whore is worse than a harlot, or ii versa?  Is that
what you mean?"  I He glared at me, telling me with his glittering, i
eyes that I was tormenting him with my silly quest "Then's there's a
strumpet, Joel, and today wfti hookers, call girls and prostitutes--do
they conn tween harlots and whores, or are they the same?"

His eyes hardened to rivet on me with the pie glare of a virgin
saint.

"You don't like me, Cathe Why don't you like me?  What have I done to
makx distrust me?  I stay to save Bart from the woi himself, or I'd
leave today because of your attft and I am more Fbxworth than you are."
The) expression changed,-and his lips quirked.

"No, i that back.  You are twice the Foxworth I am."  a How I hated him
for reminding me!  Still, he

manage to make me feel ashamed, as if I'd misconstrued the silent
messages he sent out.  I didn't defend myself, or protest to convince
him otherwise.  Nor did Chris say a word to prevent this confrontation
he'd already sensed would come sooner or later.

"I don't know why I distrust you, Joel," I said in a kinder voice than
I customarily used with him.

"Perhaps you protest too much about your father, making me doubt you
are one whit better or different."

Without another word, but with a sad look that I think he feigned, he
turned and shuffled off, his hands again tucked up those invisible
brown monk sleeves.

That very evening, when Melodic insisted on dining in her room alone
again, I made up my mind.  Even if she didn't want to go, and fought
against me, 1 was driving Melodic to see Jbry?

I stalked into her room and removed her almost untouched dinner tray
without saying a word.  She wore the same shabby robe that she'd worn
for days.  I pulled her best-looking summer outfit from her closet and
tossed it on the bed.

"Shower, Melodic, and shampoo your hair.  Then get dressed--you are
going to visit Jbry tonight, whether or not you want to."  Instantly
she jumped up and protested, acting hysterical as she said she couldn't
go yet, wasn't ready yet, and I couldn't make her do anything she
didn't want to do.  I overrode everything she said, shouting back it
seemed she'd never be ready, and I didn't care what excuses she
offered, she was going.

"You can't make me do one damned thing!"  she yelled, very pale as she
backed away.  Then, sobbing, she pleaded for me to give her more time
to become adjusted to the idea of Jbry being crippled.  1 said she'd
had enough time.  I'd adjusted, Chris had, Cindy had and she could
pretend; after all, she was supposed to be a professional used to
playing rotes.

I had to literally drag Melodic to the shower and shove her inside when
she wanted the tub.  But I knew about Melodie in a bathtub.  There
she'd sit un skin puckered, and visiting hours would be over.

Big outside the shower door, I urged her to nun stepped out, swathed in
a towel, still sobbing blue eyes pleaded for mercy.

"Stop crying!"  I ordered, shoving her down < dressing room stool.

"I'm going to blow-dry yoi while you put on your makeup--and do a good
concealing that red puffiness around your eyes, fe will be very
perceptive.  You've got to convince hi your love for him hasn't
changed."

On and on I talked to convince her that she find the right words to
say, the right expressu wear, as I dried her pretty honey-blond hair.

Her hair had marvelous sheen, more depth color than mine had.  No red
in mine at all.  The t was stronger than my frail, fine hair of flaxen
When 1 had Melodie dressed, I sprayed her lightl the perfume Jbry loved
most, as she stood as i trance of not knowing what to do next.  I bugg<
before I pulled her to the door.

"Come now, Melodie, its not going to be that He loves and needs you.
Once you're there a looks at you, you'll forget his legs are
paralyzed.

instinctively do and say the right things.  I know y< because you love
him " Pale beneath the makeup, her large eyes stared bleakly, as if she
had her doubts and knew bette to bring them up again.

By this time Bart had come home from whatev had served him enough to
make his legs limp a eyes unfocused.  He slouched in a deep chair
sprawled forward, and behind him m the shadow sagged Bmp as a dying
palm.

"Where yuh gorn'y asked in a slurred voice, as I tried to sup Melodie
the hall to the garage without him noticing us.

"To the hospital," I said, puffing Melodie towa huge garage.

"And I think it's time you Went t your brother a|gain, Bart.  Not
tonight, but tome

Buy him a gift that will entertain him .. . he's going mad in there
from doing nothing."

"Melodie, you don't have to go if you don't want to," Bart said, rising
unsteadily to his feet.

"Don't let my dominating mother push you around."

She was trembling, hanging back to plead mutely with him.  Ruthlessly I
pulled her on and forced her into the car.

Bart came staggering into the garage, calling out to Melodie that he
would save her ... and then he lost his drunken balance and fell to the
floor.  I pushed the electric button to open one of the huge garage
doors and backed out of me garage.

All the way into Chariottesville, until I was parking in the hospital
lot, Melodie trembled, sobbed and tried to convince me she'd harm Jory
more than she'd help him.  And all the way, I'd tried to give her
confidence that she could handle the situation.

"Please, Melodie, walk into that room with a smite.

Put on your nobility, that regal princess air that you used to wear all
the time.  Then when you're near his bed, take him in your arms and
kiss him."

Numbly she nodded, as a terrified child would.

I shoved the roses I'd purchased into her arms, and other gifts I'd
wrapped prettily, one she'd chosen to give him after Bart's party.

"Now, tell him you haven't been before because you've been feeling
weak, sleepy and sick.  Tell him all your other concerns if you want
to.  But don't you dare even hint that you cant feel toward him like a
wife anymore."

Like a blind, automated robot she nodded stiffly, forcing herself to
keep pace with me.

We ran into Chris coming down the ball as we left the elevator on the
sixth floor.  He beamed happily to see Melodie with me.

"How wonderful, Melodie," he said, giving her a quick hug before he
turned to me.

"I went out and bought Jory his dinner, and enough for me as well. He's
in a fairly good mood.  He drank all his milk and ate two bites of the
pecan pie.  And usually he adores pecan pie.  Melodie, if you can, try
to see th eats more of that pie.  He's losing weight rapidly, I'd like
to see him gain some back."

Still speechless, her eyes wide and blank.  Me nodded, looking toward
the door numbered 606 she faced the electric chair.  Chris gave her a
fnei understanding pat on her back, kissed me, then st off.

"I'm going to talk to his doctors.  I will join later on and follow you
home in my car."

For the life of me I couldn't feel confident ushered Melodic toward
.lory's closed door.  He t privacy fetish about keeping his door closed
at all t so no one could see a former premier danseur helpless on his
bed.  Irapped once, then twice, signal.

"Jory, it's only I, your mother."

"Come in.  Mom," he called with more welcome he'd used before.

"Dad told me you'd be showin any second.  I hope you brought me a good
boc read.  I've finished--" He broke off and stared as I shoved Melodie
int room first.

Because I'd called Chris to tell him my plans, ( had helped Jory out of
his hospital garment, and he now wearing a blue silk pajama top.  His
hair was m brushed, his face was clean shaven and he'd had his haircut
since his accident.  He looked better than he since that horrible
night.

He tried to smile.  Hope flared in his eyes, so gk see her again.

She stood where I'd pushed her and didn't another step toward his bed.
This caused his tent smile to freeze on his face as he tried to hkh
hunger ... his faltering flame of hope as his eyes to meet with hers.
She refused to meet his < Quickly the smile vanished as the flame in
his sputtered, flickered, then went out.  Dead eyes now turned his face
toward the wall..

Instantly I stepped up behind Melodie, pushing toward his bed, before I
moved to see what sob

revealing on her lace.  She stood there with her arms full of red
roses and gifts, rooted to the floor and trembling like an aspen tree
in a high wind.  I gave her a sharp nudge.

"Say something," I whispered.

"Hi, Jory," she said in a quivery, small voice, her eyes desperate.  I
shoved her closer to him.

"I've brought you roses .. ."  she added.

Still he kept his face to the wall.

Again I nudged her, thinking I should get out and leave them alone; yet
I feared the minute I did she'd whirl about and run.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited before," she said in a stumbling way,
inching bit by bit closer to his bed.

"I've also brought you gifts ... a few things your mother said you
needed."

He whipped his head about, his dark blue eyes full of smoldering rage
and resentment.

"And my mother forced you to come, right?  Well, you don't have to
stay.

You've delivered your roses and your gifts now GET

OUT!"

Melodic broke, dropping the roses onto his bed, her gifts to the floor.
She cried out as she tried to take his hand, a hand he quickly snatched
away.

"I love you, Jory .. . and Tm sorry, so sorry ..."

"I don't doubt for a minute you are sorry!"  he shouted.

"So sorry to see all the glamour disappear in a flashing moment, and
now you're stuck with a crippled husband!  Well, you're not stuck.
Melodic!  You can file for divorce tomorrow and leave!"

Backing toward the door, I was filled with phy for him and for her.
Gently I eased out but left the door ajar just enough to hear and see
what went on.  I was so afraid Melodic would take this chance to leave,
or else she'd do something to kill his desire to live ... and if I
could, 1 would do anything to stop her.

One by one Melodie picked up the fallen roses.  She threw old, dying
flowers into the trash basket, fitted the vase with water in the small
adjacent bath, then carefully arranged the red roses, so carefully,
taking so long, as if just by doing something she could h< destroying
him.  When she'd done that, she l again to the bed and picked up the
three gifts.  " you want to open them?"  she asked weakly.

"I don't need anything," he said flatly, again f at the wall so she saw
only the back of his curly From somewhere she drew courage

"I think like what's inside.  I've heard you say many a tim you wanted
..."

"AH I ever wanted was to dance until I was fort choked out.

"Now that is over, and I don't need or a dance partner, I don't need or
want anytnii She put the gifts on the bed and stood there wr her pale,
thin hands, her silent tears beginning t "I love you, Jory," she
choked.

"I want to do thing right, but I'm not brave like your mothc father,
and that's why I didn't visit before.  Your n wanted me to say I was
sick, unable to come, could have come.  I stayed in that house and
hoping I could find the strength I needed to smite I did eventually
come.  I'm coming apart with shai being weak, for not doing all I
should for you wht need me ... and the longer I stayed away, the 1 it
became for me to show up.  I feared you wouldo to me, wouldn't look at
me, and I'd do sonu stupid to make you hate me.  I don't want a dr
Jory.  I'm still your wife.  Chris took me to an oh clan yesterday, and
our baby is progressing norm Pausing, she tentatively reached to touch
his an jerked spasmodically, as if her hand burned, I didn't snatch his
arm away--she snatched hers.

From where I stood in the hallway, I could enough of Jory's face to
know he was crying and hard not to let Melodic know that.  Tears were
eyes, too, as I cringed there, feeling a sneaky inl who had no right to
watch and listen.  Even so I co move away, when I'd moved from Julian's
side o find him dead the next time I looked.  Like fat he

in, like father like son beat the unhappy tattoo of the rums of fear
in my head.

Again she reached to touch him, this time his hair.

Don't turn your face away, Jory.  Look at me.  Let me ;e that you don't
hate me for failing you when you ceded me most.  Shout at me, hit me,
but don't stop ommunicating.  I'm tied up in knots.  I can't steep at
light, feeling I should have done something to keep ou from dancing
that role.  I've always hated that articular ballet and didn't want to
tell you when you :horeographed it and made it your signature."  She
wiped at her tears, then sank to het knees by his bed and bowed her
head onto his hand, which she'd managed to seize.

Her low voice barely reached my ears.

"We can make a life together.  You can teach me how.  Wherever you
lead, Jory, 111 follow ... just tell me that you want me to Stay

Maybe because she was hiding her face now, with her tears wetting his
hand beneath her cheek, he turned his head and looked at her with such
tormented, tragic eyes.  He cleared his throat before he spoke and
dried his tears with the edge of the sheet.

"I don't want you to stay if living with me is going to be a burden.
You can always go back to New York and dance with other partners.
Because I'm crippled doesn't mean you have to be crippled, too.  You
have your career, and all those years of dedicated work.  So go, Mel,
with my blessings... I don't need you now."

My heart cried out, knowing differently.

She looked up, her makeup ruined from so many tears.

"How could I live with myself, Jory?  I'll stay.  m do my best to make
you a good wife."  She paused wide, I thought her timing was so wrong,
so damned wrong.

She gave him time to think that he didn't need a wife only a nurse and
companion, and a substitute mother for his child.

I closed my eyes and began to pray.  God, let her find the right
words.  Why isn't she telling him the 1 meant nothing without him?  Why
didn't she sa happiness counted more than anything else?  Mel Melodic,
say something to make him believe his h cap doesn't matter, it's the
man he'll always be that love.  But she said nothing like this.

She only opened his gifts for him, showed the him, while he studied her
face with bleaker and bl< eyes.

He thanked her for the best-selling novel ;

brought (chosen by me); thanked her for the trav shaving kit with the
sterling silver razors--str edged, electric and a third kind, dual
edged--w silver-handled lathering brush and a round mirroi could be
attached to anything with a suction guaranteed to work.  There was also
a fancy silver with soap, cologne and after-shave lotion.  Then fi she
was opening the best gift, a huge mahogany go of watercolors, a hobby
that Chris enjoyed.  He plato teach Jory the technique of using
watercolors as as he came home.  Jory stared at the paintbox fo longest
time without interest before he looked a "You have good taste, Mel."

Bowing her head, she nodded.

"Is there any else you need?"

"No.  Just leave.  I'm sleepy.  It's nice to see again, but I'm
tired."

She backed off hesitatingly, while my heart erie them both.  So much in
love before his accident, ai that passion had been washed away in the
deluge o shock and his humiliation.

I stepped into the room.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but 11 Jory is tired, Metodie."
I smiled at both brightly.  * just wait until you sec what we're
planning for return home.  If painting doesn't interest you no will
later on.  At home we've got other treasures wa for you.  You'regoing
to be thrilled, but I can't teS anything.  It's all supposed to be a
huge welcome168

surprise."  I hurried to embrace him, which wasn't easy to do when his
body was so bulky and hard with the cast.  I kissed his cheek, ruffled
his hair and squeezed his fingers.

"It's going to be all right, darling," I whispered.

"She has to learn to accept just like you do.

She's trying hard, and if she doesn't say the words you want to hear,
it's because she's too much in shock to think straight."

Ironically he smiled.

"Sure, Mom, sure.  She loves me just as much as she did when I could
walk and dance.  Nothing has changed.  Nothing important."

Melodic was already out of his room and standing in the hall waiting,
so she didn't bear any of this.  Over and over again she repeated on
our way home, with Chris following in his car, "Oh, my God, my God oh,
my God .;."  what are we going to do?"

"You did fine.  Melodic, just fine.  The next time you'll.do even
better," said I, brightly.

A week passed and Melodic did do better oh her second visit, and even
better on her;tbird.  Now she didn't resist when I told her where she
had togo.  She knew it wouldn't do her any good to resist.

Another day I sat in my dressing room before the long mirror, carefully
applying mascara.  Chris stepped into view with a look of pleasure on
his face.

"I've got something great to tell you," be started.

? "Last week I went to wit the university scientific staff ?  and
filled out an application for their cancer research team.  They realize
there, of course, that I've only been an amateur biochemist in my spare
time. Nevertheless, for some reason, some of my answers seemed to
please them, and they have asked me to join their staff of scientists. 
Cathy, I'm thrilled to have something to do.

I Bart has agreed to allow us to stay on here as long as we s like, or
until he marries.  I've talked to Jory, and be wants to be near us. His
apartment in New York is so small.  Here he'll have wide halls and
large rooms that will accommodate his wheelchair.  Right now he says
he'll never use one, but he will change his mine that cast comes
off."

Chris's enthusiasm for the new job was con tag wanted to see him happy,
with something to do l his mind off lory's problems.  I stood to head i
closet, but he pulled me down on his lap to pol his story.  Some of
what he said I didn't undeistai every so often he'd forgetfully sup
into medical j which was still Greek to me.

"WiB you be happy, Chris?  It's important for do what you want with
your life.  Jory's bappi important as well, but I don't want you
staying o if Bart is going to be insufferable.  Be honest.

you tolerate Bart just to give Jory a wonderful pi five?"

"Catherine, my love, as long as you are here, t course I'll be happy.
As for Bart, I've put up wi all these years, and I can take it for as
long as nee know who is seeing Jory through this traumatic [ I may help
a little, but it's you who brings sunshine with your gossipy chatter,
your lilting m your armloads of gifts and your consistent reassu that
Melodic will change.  He considers every we say as if it comes straight
from God."

"But you'll be coming and going, and we woi much of you," I moaned.

"Hey, take that took off your face.  I'll drive every night and try to
reach here before dark went on to explain that he didn't have to rca
university lab until ten, and that would give us ph time to breakfast
together.  There wouldn't be gency calls to take him away at night;
he'd have weekend off, a month off with pay, not that i mattered to us.
We'd take trips to conventions I'd meet people with innovative ideas,
the ki creative people I enjoyed best.

On and on he extolled the virtues of his new prise, making me accept
something he seemed to very much.  Still, I slept in his arms that
night, it

wishing we'd never come to this house that held so many terrible
memories and had caused so' many tragedies.

Around midnight, unable to sleep, I got up to sit in our private
sitting room that adjoined our bedroom, knitting what was supposed to
end up a fluffy white baby bonnet.  I almost felt like my mother as I
furiously knitted on and on with such intensity I couldn't put it down.
Like her I could never let anything alone until it was finished.

A soft rapping sounded on the door, soon followed by Melodie's request
to come in.  Delighted to have her visit, I answered, "Of course, come
in.  I'm glad you aw the light under my door.  I was thinking about you
and Jory while I knitted, and dam if I know how to stop once I start a
project."

Falteringly she came to perch on the love seat next to me; her very
uncertainty immediately put me on guard.

She glanced at my knitting, looked away.

"I need someone to talk to, Cathy, someone wise, like you."

How pitiful and young she sounded, even younger than Cindy.  I put down
my knitting to turn and embrace her.

"Cry, Melodic, go on.  You have enough to cry about.  I've been harsh
with you, and I know that."

Her head bowed down on my shoulder as she let go and sobbed with
abandon.

: "Help me, Cathy, please help me.  I don't know what to do.  I keep
flanking of Jory and how terrible he must feel.  I think about me and
how inadequate/ feel  I'm glad you made me go to see him, though I
hated you for doing that at the time.  Today when I went alone, he
aniled as if that proved something to him.  I know I've been childish
and weak.  Yet each time I have to force myself to enter his room.  I
hate seeing mm lying so still on that bed, moving nothing but his arms
and head.  I kiss him, hold his hand, but once I start to talk about
important things, be turns his head toward the wall and refuses to
respond.  Cathy... you may think he's learning to accept his
disability, but I think he's v himself to die--and it's my fault, my
fault!"

Astonishment widened my eyes.

"Your fault?  ] an accident, you can't blame yourself."

In a breathless gush her Words spilled forth.

don't understand why I feel as I do!  It's been troi me so much I feel
haunted with guilt.  It's because here, in this cursed house!  Jory
didn't want to h baby until years from now.  He made me pr before we
married that until we'd been on the top least ten years, we wouldn't
start a family--deliberately broke my word and stopped taking tit I
wanted to have my first baby before I was th| reasoned that after the
baby was conceived he we want me to have an abortion.  When I told him
he He stormed at me--and demanded I have an' tion."

"Oh, no ,.."  I was shocked, thinking I didn^ Jbry nearly as well asTd
thought.  1 "Don't blame him; it was my own doing.  DA was his world,"
Melodic continued in a gasping w if she'd been running uphill for
weeks.

"I

have done what I did.  1 told him I'd just for knew on our wedding day
that dancing came him, and I was second.  He never lied or differently,
though he loved me.  Then, beca pregnant, we abandoned our tour, came
here look what happened!  It's not fair, Cathy, not this very day we'd
be in London but for the of be onstage, bowing, accepting the applause,
quets, doing what he was born for.  I tricked h' so doing, I brought
about his accident, and going to do now?  How can I make up for stolen
from him?"

She trembled all over as I held her.  What o I bit down on my lip,
hurting for her, for Jory.

so much alike in some ways, for I'd death by deserting him, leaving him
in bad led to his end.  Never deliberately harming, just coincidently
doing what I felt was right, as Melodic did what she considered
right.

Who ever counted the flowers that died when we pulled up the weeds?  I
shook my head, Milling myself out of the abyss of yesterdays and turned
ray full concentration on the moment.

"Melodic, Jory's Just as scared as you are, much more so, and with good
reason.  You aren't to blame for anything.  He's happy about the baby
now that it's on its way.  Many men protest when wives want babies, but
when they see the child they helped create, they're won over.  He lies
there on his bed, as you lie on yours, wondering how his marriage is
going to work out now that he can't dance.  He's the one who is
crippled.  He's we one who has to face up to everyday life, knowing
he'll be unable to sit when he wants to; knowing he can't sit in a
regular chair and get up and down when be feels like it; nor can he
walk in the rain, or run on the grass, or even go to the bathroom in a
normal way.

"AH the simple normal everyday things he took for granted will now be
very difficult for him.  And think of what he was.  This is a terrible
blow to his pride.  He wasn't even going to try and cope for fear he'd
burden you too much.  But listen to this.  This afternoon when I was
with him, he said he was going to make a big effort to cheer up and
lift himself out of his depression.  And he win.  Hell make it, and a
lot of it will be because you've helped by just visiting and sitting
^here with him.  Each time you go you convince him you still love him."
, - 1- ; ;- ^ " .  ' Why did she draw from my arms and turn her face
away?  I watched her brush the tears from her face impatiently; then
she blew her nose and tried to stop crying.

With effort she spoke again.

"I don't know what it is, but 1 keep having scary dream?.  I wake up
frightened, thinking something even mote dreadful is going to happen.
There's something weird about this ho Something strange and
frightening.  When everyoi gone, and Bart is in his office, and Joel is
praying in ugly, bare room, I Me on my bed and seem to hear house
whispering.  It seems to call to me.  I hear wind blow as if it's
trying to tell me something.  H the floor squeak outside my door so I
jump up and i to throw open the door--and no one is there, no 01 ever
there.  I suspect it's only my imagination, b hear, as you've said you
do sometimes, so much of < isn't real.  Am I losing my mind, Cathy? 
Am

I?"

"Oh, Melodic," I murmured, trying to draw close again, but she put me
off by moving to the far of thft wrf8 "Cathy, why b this house
different?"

"Different from what?"  I asked uneasily.

"From all other houses."  She glanced fearfully ward the door to the
hall.

"Don't you feel it?  Can't hear it?  Do you sense this house is
breathing, iite it a life of its own?"  .

My eyes widened as a chill stole the comfort from pretty sitting room.
In the bedroom I could faintly 1 Chris's regular, heavy breathing.  ?

Melodie, usually too reticent to talk, gushed ow breathlessly.

"This house: wants to use the people in as a way to keep it living on
forever.  It's like a vamf sucking our lifeblood from all of us.  I
wish it ha been restored.  It's not a new house.  It's been here
centuries.  Only the wallpaper and the paint and furniture are new, but
those stairs in the foyer I w climb up or descend without seeing the
ghost!

others....."  ?.: .  , .  ;-..  - ... , -, .-; , .

A kind of paralyzing numbness gripped me.: ., Every word she said was
only too frighteningly to I could hear it breathe!  I tried to pull
myself bad reality.

"Listen, Melodie.  Bart was only a little when my mother ordered it
reconstructed on foundations of the old manor home.  Before she die

was up, but not completely finished inside.  When her will was read,
and she left this house to Bart, with Chris is trustee to manage until
he came of age, we decided it was a waste not to have it completed.
Chris and our attorney contacted the architects and contractors, and
the job went forward until it was finished, only the inside needed
furbishing.  That had to wait until Bart came here in his college days
and ordered the interior decorators to style it as it had been in the
old days.  And you're right.  I, too, wish this house had been left in
ashes..."

"Maybe your mother knew this house was what Bart would want most to
give him confidence.  It's so imposing.

Haven't you noticed how much he's changed?  He's not like the little
boy who used to hide away in the shadows and lurk behind trees.  He's
the master here, like a baron overseeing his domain.  Or maybe I should
say king of the mountain, for he's so rich, so terribly rich..."

Not yet... not yet, I kept thinking.  Nevertheless, her frail,
whispering voice disturbed me.  I didn't want to think Bart was as
overbearing as a medieval ford.

But she went on.

"Bart's happy, Cathy, extraordinarily happy.  He tells me he's sorry
about Jory.  Then he telephones those attorneys and wants to know why
they keep postponing the rereading of his grandmother's will.  They've
told him they can't read it unless everyone mentioned in the will is
here to hear the reading, and so they put it off until the day when
Jory comes home from me hospital.  They will read the wiO in Bart's
office."

"How do you know so much about Bart's business?"

I asked sharply, suddenly very suspicious of all that time when she was
alone in this house with my second son and an old man who spent most of
his time in that tiny, naked room he used as a chapel.  Joel would
quite happily see Jory destroyed if that would satisfy Bart.  In Joel's
eyes a dancing man was no better than the worst sumer, displaying his
body.  Leaping and bounding in front of women, wearing nothing b
loincloth ... 1 stared again at Melodic.

"Do you and Bart spend much time together?"

Quickly she stood, "I'm tired now, Cathy.  I've enough to make you
think I'm crazy.  Do all expec mothers have such fearful dreams--did
you?

afraid, too, that my baby won't be normal since grieved so much for
tory."

1 gave her what comfort I could when I felt inside, and later that
night while I lay beside Ch began to toss and turn, to flit in and out
of nightnu until he wakened and pleaded with me to let him some sleep.
Turning, 1 wrapped my arms about 1 clinging to him as if to some
unsinkable raft---at always clung to the only straw that kept me 1
drowmng in the cruelseaof Foxworth Hall.

Homecomijig

Finally the decorators I'd hired to do over Jory's s of rooms were
finished.  Now everything there planned for his entertainment and
comfort and coi nience.  With Melodic beside me, we stood and veyed all
that had been done to make the room bi and cheerful.

"Jory likes color and lots of light, unlike some' want only darkness
because it's richer appears explained Melodic with a strange look
haunting eyes.  Of course I knew she meant Bart.  I gave h quizzical
look, wondering again how much time spent with Bart, and what they
talked about, and if 1 tried anything.  Certainly all that wistful
yearning seen in his eyes would force him to make ad van And what
better time than while Jory was away?

Melodic was desperately needing?  Then my safety /alve turned on ...
Melodic despised Bart.  She might iced him to talk to, but that was
all.

"Tell me what else I can do to help," I said, wanting tier to do most
of it so she'd feel needed, useful.  In response she smiled for the
first time with some show of happiness.

"You can help me make the bed with the pretty new sheets I ordered."
She ripped open the plastic wrappings, the movement making her fuller
breasts jiggle.  Her jeans were just beginning to show a slight
bulge.

I was almost as worried about her as I was about Jory.  An expectant
mother needed to eat more, drink milk, take vitamins, and then there
was this unexpected reversal of her former heavy depression.  She was
now completely accepting of Jory's unhappy situation.  It was what I
had wanted, yet it had come about too quickly, and that gave me the
feeling it was false.

Then came an explanation of her newfound security.

"Cathy, Jory's going to get well and dance again.  I dreamed last night
he was, and my dreams always come true."

Now I knew she was going to do what I'd done in the beginning, convince
herself that Jory would recover someday, and on that kind of fantasy
she was going to construct her life and his.

I started to speak, to say what Chris had to me, but Bart stepped into
the hallway outside, his large feet clumping heavily down the long, dim
hall.  He glowered at the once dark paneling that was now painted off
white so that paintings of the sea and shore would show up beautifully.
 Easy enough to see he was displeased with our changes.

"We did it to please Jory," I said before he could object, while
Melodic stood silent and stared at him with the wide-eyed, helpless
look of a child caught in a sticky situation.

"I know you want your brother to be happy, and no one toves the sea,
the surf, the sand and seabirds more than Jory.  So, into this room v
putting a bit of the sea and shore giving him knowledge that all the
important things in life wiB exist for him.  The sky above, the earth
below, am sea in between.  He's not going to lack for anytt Bart.  He's
going to have what it takes to keep him) and happy, and I know you want
to do your part.

He was staring at Melodic, not half listening to His eyes riveted to
those larger breasts, moving to s the curve of the baby swelling her
belly.

"Melodic, could have come to me and asked before you anything, since
I'm the one who'll pay the bills."  I completely ignored, as if I
weren't there at all.

"Qh, no," denied Melodic.

"Jory and I have mo We can pay for the changes we've made in here and I
didn't think you would mind since you seel concerned about him."

"You don't have to pay for anything," said Bart surprising warmth.

"The day Jory comes home, neys will be coming in the afternoon to read
the again, and this time I'll know exactly my full worth.

damned sick and tired of having that day postpon "Bart," I said,
stepping so I was between him Melodic, "you know why they haven't
reread the' They want Jory to be here and fully cognizant ofwl going
on."

He walked around me to deliberately lock his with the huge, sad ones
of.  Melodic.  He spoke to and her alone.

"You just tell me what you need, am deliver it yesterday.  You and Jory
can stay as Ion you like."

They stood staring at each other across twenty fe sea-blue velvet
carpeting.  Bart's dark eyes probed her blue ones before he said
softly, winningly, "D worry so much, Melodie.  You and Jory have a hi
here forever if you want.  I don't really give a d what you do with
these rooms.  I do want Jory to b comfortable and happy as possible."

Were they formula words to satisfy me--or calculated words to seduce
her?  Why did Melodic blush and gaze down at her feet?

Cindy's tale resounded like distant church bells in my memory.
Insurance for all the guests ... in case of accidents.  Wet sand that
should have been dry sand.

Sand that clumped into cement and didn't instantly pour out to make the
papier-mach6 columns safe.

Into my thoughts flitted memories of Bart when he was seven, eight,
nine and ten ... Wish I had legs as pretty as Jory's.  Wish I could run
and dance like Jory.  Gonna grow taller, gonna grow much bigger, gonna
be more powerful than, Jory.

Someday.  Someday.

Bart's mumbling boyhood wishes, said so many times I'd grown
indifferent to them.  Then, when he was older... Who is gonna love me,
like Melodic loves Jory?

Nobody.  Nobody.

I shook my head to rid myself of unwelcome memories of a little boy
wanting to equal the stature of his older and more talented brother.

But why was he looking now at Melodic with such significance?  Her blue
eyes lifted to meet his briefly;

then she looked away, blushing again, positioning her hands in the
ballet position all dancers used to keep from drawing attention away
from the main performer --her feet toed out.  On stage.  Melodic was on
stage, playing a rote.

Bart strode off, his long legs confident and sure, as they'd never been
when he was a young boy.  I felt sad and sorry he bad to wait until he
was out of Jory's shadow before he could find even the ability to use
ha body coordination with skill.  Sighing, I decided to think of the
present and all that had been done to giv( convalescence the perfect
environment.

A large color TV was at the foot of his bed, had a remote control unit
to change channels ai it off and on from his bed.  An electrician had
ar a way for Jory to open and close his draperies w chose.  A stereo
was within his reach.  Books lu back of his adjustable bed, which would
sit him turn him into almost any position he wanted.  N and I, with
Chris's help, had wracked our br come up with every modem convenience
that enable him to do what he could for himself.  Now had to do was to
see he stayed busy with occupation of real interest, enough to absorb
hi gies and challenge his innate talents.

A long time ago I'd started reading books c chology, my poor attempt to
try and help Bart.

could help Jory with his "racehorse" personal!

had to compete and win.  He couldn't endure boi lying about doing
nothing.  There was already i along the wall without windows, put there
recci give him the promise that one day he'd stand up, he would have to
wear a back brace connected braces.  I sighed to think of my beautiful,
grace stumbling along like a horse in a harness; thei were streaking my
face.  Tears I quickly blinked a Melodic wouldn't see them.

Soon Melodie was tired and left to lie down an I finished up in the
room, then hurried to oven ramps being constructed to take Jory down
terraces and the gardens.  No effort was being spi see he would not be
confined to his room.  The also a newly installed elevator put where
once had been a butler's pantry.

At last came the wonderful day when Joi allowed to leave the hospital
and come home.  11 was still on his back, but he was eating and di

164normally and had gained back his color and a little of the weight
he'd lost.  My heart ached with pity to see him flat on a stretcher,
being rolled to the elevator, when once he'd taken the stairs three at
a time.  I saw him turn his head to stare at the stairs as if he'd sell
his soul to use them again.

But, smiling, he looked around the grand suite of rooms all refurbished
and his eyes sparkled.

"It's great, what you've done, really great.  My favorite color
combination, white and blue.  You've given me the seashore---why, I can
almost smell the surf, hear the seagulls.  It's wonderful, truly
wonderful what paint and pictures, green plants and planning can do."

His wife stood at the foot of the narrow bed he'd have to use until the
cast came off, but she took pains not to meet his eyes.

"Thanks for liking what we've done.  Your mother and I, and Chris, too,
really tried to please you."

His blue eyes turned navy as he stared at her, sensing something I,
too, felt.  He looked toward the windows, his full lips thinning,
before he drew back into his shell, Immediately I stepped forward to
hand him a huge box, saved for this kind of uncomfortable moment.

"Jory, something meaningful for you to do while you're still confined
to the bed.  Don't want you staring at that boob tube all the time."

Seeming relieved not to have to trouble his wife with words she didn't
want to hear, he feigned childish eagerness by shaking the huge box.

"A compressed.

elephant?  An unsinkable surfboard?"  he guessed, looking only at me. I
ruffled his curiy hair, leaned to hug and kiss him and ordered him to
hurry and open that box.  I was dying to hear what he thought of my
gift that had traveled all the way from New England.

Soon he had the ribbons and pretty wrapping off and was staring down at
the long box containing what appeared to be neat bundles of super-long
matchsticks.

Tiny bottles of paint, larger bottles of glue, with spools of thin
cording, carefully packaged cloth.

"A 1;

make a clipper ship," he said with both wonder dismay.

"Mom, there are ten pages of instruct This thing is so complicated it
will take me the b part of my life to complete.  And when it's don
ever--what will I have?"

"What will you have?  My son, you will have ^ you are finished an
heirloom that will be priceles leave to your son or daughter."  All
said so proudi sure he could follow the difficult directions.

"You steady hands, a good eye for details, a ready ui standing of the
written word and such deter mina Besides, take a look at that empty
mantel that dem a ship smack in the middle."

Laughing, he laid his head back on the pi] already exhausted.  He
closed his eyes.

"Okay, ye convinced me.  I'll give it a go--but I've not had b
experience with any craft since I was a kid gl airplane parts
together."

Oh, yes, I remembered cleariy.  They'd dangled 6 from his ceiling,
infuriating Bart, who couldn't anything together properly at that
time.

"Mom..  . I'm tired.  Give me a chance to before the lawyers come to
read that will.  I don't I if I'm up to all the excitement of Bart's
'coming int own'--at last."

It was at this moment that Bart stepped into room.  Jbry sensed him
there and opened his eyes.

dark brown and dark blue brotherly eyes met, loc challenging die other
for a dreadfully long time.

silence grew and grew until I became aware of my heart throbs; the
clock behind me ticked too loud, Melodic was breathing heavily.  I
heard the birds side twittering before Melodic began to rearr another
vase of flowers just for something to do.

On and on they clashed eyes, wills, when Bart sh speak and welcome home
the brother he'd visited once.  Still he just stood there, as if he'd
keep his

locked on Jory until Jory broke the spell and lost die silent battle
of wills.

I had my lips parted to stop this contest when Jory smiled and said
warmly, without lowering his eyes or breaking the bind, "Hi, brother. I
know how much you hate hospitals, so it was doubly nice for you to
visit me.

Since I'm here, in your home ... isn't it easier to say hello?  I'm
glad my accident didn't spoil your birthday party.  I heard from Cindy
that my fall only momentarily lulled the hilarity, and the party went
on as if nothing had happened."

Still Bart stood there saying nothing.  Melodic put the last rose in
the vase and lifted her head.  A few tendrils of her fair hair had
escaped the tight confinement of her ballerina bun to make her look
charmingly casual and antiquely fragile.  There was an air of weariness
about her as if she'd surrendered to life and all its vicissitudes.

Was I imagining that she sent some silent warning to Bart--and he
understood?  Suddenly he was smiling, even if it was stiff.

"I'm glad you're back.  Welcome home, Jory."  He strode forward to
clasp his brother's hand.

"If there's anything I can do, just let me know."  Then he left die
room, and I was staring after him, wondering... At four exactly, that
very afternoon, shortly after Jory woke up and Chris and Bart lifted
him onto a stretcher, three attorneys came to take over Bart's grand
home office.  We sat in fine milk-chocolate-colored leather chairs, all
but Jory, who lay on a rolling stretcher very still and quiet.  His
tired eyes were half opened, showing his interest was small.  Cindy had
flown home to be here, as was required, for she, too, was mentioned in
the will.  She perched on the arm of my chair, swinging her shapely teg
back and forth, treating all of this as a joke white Joel glared to see
that blue high-heeled shoe moving constantly and calling attention to
those remarkably lovely tegs.  We all sat as if at a funeral, as
papers were shuffled, spectacles put on and whisperings between the
lawyers made u;

uneasy.

Bart was particularly nervous, exalted looking, suspicious of the way
the attorneys kept glancing him.  Hie eldest of the three acted as
spokes mar word by careful word the main portion of my moth will was
read once again.  We'd heard it all before.

'when my grandson, Bartholomew Wins Scott Sheffield, who will
eventually claim his righ surname of Foxworth, reaches the age of
twenty-fh read the man in his late sixties with the glasses pere low on
his nose, "he will be given the annual sum of hundred thousand dollars,
until he reaches the ag< thirty-five.  At this stated age, the
remainder of estate, hereafter called The Corrine Foxworth Wins Trust,
will be turned over in entirety to my grands Bartholomew Winslow Scott
Sheffield Foxworth.

firstborn son, Christopher Garland Sheffield Foxwoi will remain in his
position as trustee until the afores time.  If be, the trustee, should
not survive until time when my grandson Bartholomew Winslow S<
Sheffield Foxworth reaches the age of thirty-five, ti my daughter,
Catherine Sheffield Foxworth, shall named as replacement trustee until
my aforesaid gra son reaches his thirty-fifth birthday."

There was more, much more, but I didn't h anything else.  I filled with
shock and glanced at Ch who seemed dumbfounded.  Then my eyes rested
Bart.

His face was pale, registering a kaleidoscope changing expressions. His
color waxed and waned."

raked lass long, strong fingers through his perfect h style and left it
rumpled.  Helplessly he looked at Joe if for guidance, but Joel only
shrugged and crooked lips as if to say, "I told you so."

Next Bart was glaring at Cindy as if her presence 1 magically changed
his grandmother's will.  His e

flitted to Jory, who was lying sleepily on the stretcher, appearing
disinterested in everything going oh but Melodie, who stared at Bart
with her pale, woebegone face flickering like a weak candle name in the
strong wind of Bart's disappointment.

Quickly Bart jerked his sizzling gaze away when her head lowered to
Jory's chest.  Almost silently she was crying.

An eternity seemed to pass before that elderly lawyer folded the long
will, replaced it in a blue folder, then put that on Bart's desk.  He
stood with folded arms to wait for Bart's questions, r s "What the hell
is going on?"  shouted Bart.

He jumped to his feet, stalked to his desk and seized up the will,
which he thumbed through quickly with the eye of an expert.  Finished,
he hurled down the will.

"Damn her to hell!  She promised me everything, everything!  Now I have
to wait ten more years... why wasn't that part read before?  I was
there.  I was ten years old, but I remember her will stating I'd come
into my own when I was twenty-five.  I'm twenty-five and one month
old--where is my reward?"

Chris stood.

"Bart," he said calmly, "you have five hundred thousand dollars a
year--that kind of money isn't to be shrugged off.  And didn't you hear
that all your living expenses, and the cost of running this house and
maintaining it, will be taken care of by the bulk of monies still in
trust?  All your taxes will be prepaid.

And five hundred thousand a year for ten years is more money than
ninety-nine point nine percent of the world will ever know in an entire
lifetime.  How much can you spend on supporting your own life-style
after all other expenses are taken care of?  Besides, those ten years
will fly by, and then everything will be yours to do wiA as you
want."

"How much more is there in toto?"  Bart fired.  Iris dark eyes
rapacious and so intense they seemed to bum.  His face was magenta
colored from his rage.

"Five million paid to me over a period of ten years, what will be
left?  Ten million more?  Twenty, fift billion--how much?"

**I really don't know," replied Chris coolly as lawyers stared at
Bart.

"But I'd say, with honesty, day when you finally do come into your own,
all o you win be, beyond a doubt, one of the richest me theworid."

"But until then--you are!"  screamed Bart.

"Yl Of all people, you!  The very one who's sinned most!  It isn't
fair, not fair at all!  I've been mis tricked!"  His eyes glared at all
of us first as be slami out of his office, only to stick his head in a
second la "You'B be sorry, Chris," he blazed fiercely.  " must have
talked her into having that codicil adde and instructed the attorneys
not to read it aloud the I heard it first, when I was ten.  It's your
fault I have come into everything due me!"

As always it had been Chris's fault--or mine.

Brotherly "Love

Most of the miserably hot month of August had ex and gone while Jory
stayed in the hospital, and Septi her arrived with its cooler nights,
only too soon star) the colorful process of autumn.  Chris and Ira
leaves after the gardeners had come and gone, thud they carelessly
overlooked so many.  The leaves vn stopped felling, and it was
something we both nkK do.  - : ^ "^ We heaped them in deep ravines,
dropped dow match and crouched close together on the grasi watch tike
fire blaze high and warm enough to heat cold hands and faces.  The fire
down below was sol

we could enjoy just watching and turning often to gaze at one another
and the way the glow lit up our eyes and turned our skins a lovely
shade of scarlet.  Chris had a lover's way of looking at me, of
reaching to caress my cheek with the back of his band, brushing my hair
with his fingertips, kissing my neck, and in all ways touching me
deeply with his abiding love.  In the firelight of those leaves burning
at night, we found each other in new ways, in mature ways that were
even better than what we'd had before, and that had always been
overwhelmingly sweet.

And behind us, staying forever locked within her room in that horrible
house, Melodie's baby swelled her out more and more.  , The month of
October came to us in a stunning blaze of colors that stole my breath
away, filling me with awe as only the works of nature could.  These
were the same trees whose tops we'd only glimpsed in, our hideaway
attic schoolroom.  I could almost see the four of us staring out when I
glanced up at the aide dormer windows, the twins only five, pining away
to large^yed gnomes, all our small, pale aces pasted wistfully to the
smudgy glass, staring out, yearning to be free to do what now I took as
only natural and our due.

Ghosts up there, our ghosts up these.

Color a|l our days gray, was the way I'd used to think.  Color all
Jory's days gray now, for be wouldn't let himself see the beauty of
autumn in die mountains when he couldn't stroll the woodsy paths, or
dance over the browning grass, or lean to sniff the fall flowers, or
jog alongside Metodie.  , ;

The tennis courts stayed empty as Bart abandoned them for lack of a
partner.  Chris would have loved a Saturday or Sunday tennis game with
Bart, but Bait still ignored Chris.

The large swimming pool that had been Cindy's special delight was
drained, cleaned, covered over.  The screens came down, die glass was
cleaned before the storm windows went up.  The cords of wood stacked o
of sight behind the garage grew by the dozens, as trucks delivered coal
to use when or if our oil fumac failed, or our electricity went off. We
had an auxiliary unit to light our rooms and keep our electric applianc
working, and yet somehow I feared this winter as 1 never feared any
winter but those in the attic.

Freezing cold it had been in the attic, like the Arc zone.  Now we were
going to have the chance experience what it had been like downstairs,
will Momma enjoyed life with her parents and friends, al the lover she
found, while four unwanted children fro and starved and suffered
upstairs.  ] Sunday mornings were the best.  Chris and I glori in our
time together.  We ate breakfast in Jory's room!

he wouldn't feel so separate from his family, and onQ few times could I
persuade Bart and Melodic to join t "Go oh," urged Jory, when he saw me
glance of6 at the window, "go walking.  Don't think I'm going begrudge
you and Dad your legs because mine do!

work anymore.  I'm not a baby, or that selfish."

We had to go or he'd think he was inhibiting ours of living.  And so we
went, hoping Melodic would;

him.

One day we woke up so early the frost was still tl upon the ground and
pumpkins were ripening ur the stacked corn stalks where farmers eked
out a p living.  The frost looked sweat, like powdered sugar) would
soon melt when the sun came out fully.  ;

Oa our walk we stopped to stare up at the sky?

Canadian geese flew south, telling us Vast winter woi come earner than
usual this year.  We heard the distil melancholy honking of those
untiring birds fade asQs disappeared in the morning clouds.  Flying to
South Carolina--where once we had fled just b winter's sharp bite.

In mid-October the orthopedist came to use electric shears to split
Jory's cast halfway through; i

he used handheld shears to gently cut through what remained.  Jory
said he felt now like a turtle without its shell.  His strong body had
wasted inside that cast.

"A

few weeks of exercising your arms and shoulder muscles will see your
chest as developed as ever," encouraged Chris.

"You're going to need strong arms, so keep on using that trapeze, and
we'll have parallel bars put in your sitting room so you can eventually
pull yourself up into a standing position.  Don't thick life is over
for you, that all challenges are behind you and nothing matters now,
for you have miles and mites to go before you're done with ufe, don't
you ever forget that."

"Yeah," murmured Jory bleakly, staring empty-eyed toward the door,
which Melodic seldom passed through.

"Mites and miles to travel before I can find another body that works
like it should.  1 guess I'll start believing in reincarnation."

The quickly chilling days turned bitterly cold, with autumn nights that
took us quickly toward freezing.

The migrating birds stopped flying overhead now that the wind was
whistling through the treetops, howling around the house, stealing
inside our rooms.  The moon was again a raiding Viking longboat sailing
high, flooding our bed with moonlight, giving us kindling for a new
kind of romance, dean, cool, bright love that lit up our spirits, and
told us we weren't really sinners of the worst kind.  Not when our love
could last as it had, while other marriages broke up after a few months
or years.  We couldn't be sinning and feel as we did toward one
another.  Who were we hurting?  No one, not realty.

Ban was hwting himself, we reasoned.

StiB, why was I haunted by nightmares that said differently?  I'd
become aa expert at turning off disturbing thoughts by thinking of aD
the trivial details in my life.  There was nothing as diverting as the
startling beauty of nature.  I wanted nature to heal my wounds, and
Jory's--and perhaps even Bart's.

With a keen eye I studied all die signs as a farm might and reported
them back to Jory.  Hie rabbi grew suddenly fatter.  Hie squirrels
seemed to I storing more nuts.  Woolly caterpillars looked like til
train cars of fur inching toward safety wherever th was.

Soon I was pulling out winter coats that Fd intends to give to
charities; heavy sweaters and wool skirts f never expected to wear in
Hawaii.  In September One had flown back to her high school in South
Carolm, This was her last year in a very expensive private sc hoi that
she "absolutely adored."  Her letters poured in Ij) unseasonable warm
rain, wanting more money forth or that..: .  : ... - , Ji,- it, On and
on flowed Cindy's sprawling girlish scrip needing everything, despite
all the gifts I was const aa ly bombarding her with.  She had dozens of
boyfriend a new one each time she wrote.  She needed casui clothes for
the boy who liked to hunt and fish.  S| needed dressy clothes for the
boy who liked operas an concerts.  She needed jeans and warm tops for
hersei and luxury underwear and nightclothes, for she ju couldn't sleep
in anything inexpensive.  ^ Her letters emphasized all that I'd missed
when I wi sixteen.  I remembered Clainnont and my days in Q Baal's
house, with Henny in the kitchen teaching a) how to cook by example,
not with words.  I'd bought cookbook on how to win your man and hold
him tl cooking all the right dishes.  What a child I'd been ri sighed.
Perhaps I'd bad it just as good as Cindy, aft an in a different way
after we jeseaped bokwo)^ Hall.  I sniffed Cindy's pink, perfumed
stationery ta fore I put down her letter, then turned my attention 1
the present and all the problems in this Eoxworth Ha( without the paper
flowers in the attic.  I Day after day of closely observing Bart when
he w| with Melodic was convincing me that they saw a grcd deal of one
another, while Jory saw very little of N m 13 wife.  I tried to
believe that Melodic was trying to console Bart for not inheriting as
much as he'd believed .  bat despite myself, I presumed there was more
to it than pity.

like a faithful puppy with only one friend, Joel followed Bart
everywhere, except into his office or bedroom.  He prayed in that tiny
room before break fast, lunch and dinner.  He prayed before he went to
bed, and prayed as he walked about, muttering to himself the
appropriate quotes from the Bible to suit whatever occasion provoked
him into pious mumbles.

In his own way, Chris was in Heaven, enjoying the best years of his
life, or so he said.

"I love my new job.

The men I work with are bright, humorous and have unending tales to
tell and take away the monotony of doing a lot of drudgery.  We go into
the lab each day, don our white coats, check our petri dishes,
expecting miracles, and grin and bear it when miracles just don't
happen Bart was neither friend nor foe to Jory, just someone who stuck
his head in the door and said a few words before he hurried on to
something he considered more important than wasting time with a
crippled brother.  I often wondered what he did with his time besides
study the financed markets and buy and sell stocks and bonds.  I
suspected he was risking much of his five hundred thousand in order to
prove to all of us he was smarter than Chris and craftier than the
foxiest of at Foxworths, Malcolm.

Soon after Chris drove off on a Tuesday morning in late October, I
hurried back up the stairs to check on Jory and see that he was
properly taken care of.  Chris had hired a mate nurse to tend to Jory,
but be was only here every other day.

Jory seldom complained about being housebound, although his head was
often turned toward the windows to stare out at the brilliance of
autumn.

"The summer's gone," he said flatly, lifelessly, as the wind tossed
colorful leaves playfully about, "and taken my legs with it.  ""Autumn
will bring you reasons for being ha] Jury.  Winter will make you a
father.  Life still has n happy surprises in store for you, whether or
not want to believe that.  I believe like Chris, that the be still to
come.  Now .. . let's see what we can do to you substitute legs.  Now
that you're strong enoug sk up, there's no reason why you can't move
into wheelchair your father brought home.  Jory, pleas hate seeing you
in bed all the time.  Try the ct oaybe it won't be as obnoxious as you
think."

Stubbornly he shook his head.

I ignored that and went on with my persuasi "Easily we can take you
outside.  We can stroll thrc die woods as soon as Bart has workmen
clear the p that might hinder your progress, and right now could sit on
a terrace in the sunshine and gain t some of your color.  Soon it will
be too cold to outside.  And when the time comes, I can push through
the gardens and the woods."

He threw the chair, kept where he could see it e^ day, a hard, scornful
look.

"That thing would i over."

"We'll buy you one of those electric chairs that' heavy and well
balanced it can't turn over."

"I don't think so.  Mom.  I've always loved autu bnt this one makes me
feel so sad.  I feel I've everything that was truly important.  I'm
like a brc compass, spinning without direction.  Nothing se worthwhile.
I've been cheated, and I resent it.  I i the days.  But the nights are
worse.  I want to hold fa Manner and what I used to have, and the
falling lace the tears I shed inside, and the wind whistlin sight are
my howls of anguish, and the birds fl;

south are all telling me that the summer of my life come and gone and
never, never again will I fee tappy, or as special.  I'm nobody now.
Mom, nobo< He was breaking my heart.

Only when he turned to took at me did he see this.

Shame flushed his face.  Guilt turned his head.

"I'm sorry.  Mom.  You're the only one I can talk to like this.

With Dad, who is wonderful, I have to act manly.  Once I spill out to
you all I feel, it doesn't eat at me inside so much.  Forgive me for
laying all my heavy feelings on you."

"It's all right.  Never stop telling me just how you feel.  If you do,
then I won't know how to help.  That's what I'm here for, Jory.  That's
why you have parents.

Don't feel that your father won't understand, for he will.  Talk to him
like you talk to me.  Say anything you need to say, don't hold back.
Ask for anything within reason, and Chris and I give all we can but
don't ask for the impossible."

Silently he nodded, then forced a weak smile.

"Okay.  Maybe, after all, I can stand to sit in an electric wheelchair
someday."

Before him, spread on the table with casters that fitted over his bed,
were the many parts of the clipper ship he was tediously gluing
together.  He seldom turned on the stereo, as if beautiful music was an
abomination to his ears now that he couldn't dance.  He ignored the
television as a waste of time, reading when he wasn't working on the
model ship.  A tiny part of the wood was held by tweezers as he applied
a bit of glue;

then, squinting his eye, he looked at the directions and completed the
hull.

Casually he asked without meeting my eyes, "Where's my wife?  She
seldom comes to visit before five.  What the hell does she do all
day?"

It seemed a casual enough question for Jory to ask as Jory's nurse came
in again to say he was off for classes.

He waved a cheerful goodbye anA left.  During his absence either
Melodic or I were supposed to do what we could to make Jory
comfortable, as well as keep him entertained.  Keeping him occupied was
the most difficult part.  His life had been a physical one, and nov
had to be content with mental activities.  The nea thing he had that
even approached a physical life putting the ship together.

At least I'd presumed Melodic came in to do v she could for him.

I very seldom saw Melodie.  The house was so lar| was easy to avoid
those whom you didn't want to;

Lately she'd taken to eating not only breakfast tunch as well in her
bedroom across the hall from Jo suite, Chris brought home the
custom-made electric wh chair with its joy stick for driving.
Immediately nurse began to teach Jory the methods he'd uss swing his
body out of the bed and into a chair he'd h locked beside his bed, with
the arm nearest the pulled out.

Jory had been crippled for more than three and a long, long miserable
months.  For him they were m like years.  He'd been forced to change
into anol kind of person, the kind of person I could tell he re didn't
like.

Another day came without a visit from Melodie, Jory was asking again
where she was, and what she with her time.  '^(om, did you hear my
questi Please tell me what my wife does all day."  His usu pleasant
voice held a sharp edge.

"She doesn't spec with me, I know that."

Bitterness was in his eyes as he nailed me with penetrating dark blue
eyes.

"Right this minute In you to go to Melodie and teQ her I want to
her--NCW Not later, when she feels like it--fo seems she never feels
like it!"

"Til get her," I said with determination.

"She's doubt in her room listening to ballet music."

With trepidation I left Jory still working on model ship.  Even as I
looked back at him, I saw wind was picking up and beginning to hurl the
fall leaves toward the house.  Golden and scarlet and hi!

leaves that he refused to see and once he'd heard the music of
colors.

Look, now, lory, look now.  This is beauty you won't see again,
perhaps.  Don't ignore it take it and seize the day, as you used to
do.

But had I, back then...?  Had I?

As I stood and looted at him, trying to bring him back to himself, the
sky suddenly darkened and all the bright falling leaves went limp in
the cold, drenching rain that plastered them against the glass.

"Daddy used to do all the chores when we lived in Gladstone.

Momma used to complain the storm windows gave her twice as many to
clean ..."

"I want my wife.  Mom, NOW!"

I was reluctant to go in search of Melodic for no reason I could name.
In the dreary gloom Jory was forced to turn on a lamp at ten in the
morning.

"Would you like a cheerful wood fire burning?"

"I only want my wife.  Do I have to repeat this ten times?  Once she's
here, she can start the fire."

I left him alone, realizing my presence irritated him when he wanted
her the only one who could bring him back to himself.

Melodic was not in her room as I'd expected her to be.

The halls I trod seemed the same halls I'd walked before when I was
younger.  The closed doors I passed seemed the same heavy, solid doors
rd stealthily opened when I'd been fourteen, fifteen.  Behind me I
sensed the omniscient presence of Malcolm, the malice of the hostile
grandmother.

I turned to the western wing.  Bart's wing.

Almost automatically my feet took me there as my mind stayed blank.
Intuition had ruled most of my life and, it seemed, would rule my
future as well.  Why was I going this way?  Why didn't I look elsewhere
for Melodic?  What instinct was guiding me to my second son's rooms,
where he never wanted me^to go?

Before Bart's wide double doors that were heavily padded with
luxurious black leather, gold-tooled w his monogram and the family
crest, I called sod "Bart, are you in there?"

I heard nothing.  However, all the doors were nu of solid oak, heavily
paneled beneath the ostentatn padding.  Very soundproof doors and thick
walls tl knew how to hold secrets, so no wonder we four I been so
easily hidden away.  I turned the dooriat expecting to find it locked.
It wasn't.  ;;

Almost stealthily I stepped inside Barfs sitting roll which was kept
immaculate, not one book or magai out of place.  On hiswaHs hung his
sporting equipmfl tennis rackets and fishing rods, a golf bag in a
come) rowing machine inside a closet with the door part ii open.  I
stared at the photographs of his favorite spo stars.  I often thought
Bart made a pretense of admit!

football and baseball athletes just so he'd have so| thing in common
with the rest of his sex.  To my wa| thinking he'd have been more
honest to plaster walls with pictures of those who'd earned fortunes!

the stock market, or wheeling and dealing in in dust or politics..rf
His rooms were all black and white with red acce^ dramatic, but somehow
cold.  I sat down on his wl leather sofa fully twelve feet long, my
feet on his) carpet, with black velvet and satin pillows behind'l back.
In one corner was a marvelous bar sparkling t| crystal decanters and
various stemmed glasses, | every kind of liquor he kept there for his
private fl along with snack foods.  There was also a small fri<| and a
micro oven for melting cheese, or doing what el light cooking he
wanted. ~ ] Every photograph was matted in black or red a framed in
gold. Three walls were of white moire fabi One wall was covered with
padded and quilted Ms leather.  A deceiving wall.  One of those leather
buttf concealed the large safe in which he kept his stock a bond
certificates, for he'd proudly shown me his sU

just once, soon after it was completely decorated.  He'd operated the
secret buttons, happy to display the complexity of all he controlled.
The safe in his office downstairs was used for less permanent and
important papers, i .

I turned my head to stare at the door to his bedroom, covered with
black leather, too.  Beautiful doors to a magnificent bedroom with the
same decor as the room.

I thought I heard something.  The soft rumble of mate laughter Ac
softer giggle of a woman.  Could I be wrong?  Did Bart have the ability
to make Melodic laugh when none of the rest of us could?

My imagination worked overtime, picturing what they had to be doing,
and I felt sick at heart, thinking of Joryin his room, hopefully
waiting for a wife who never came to him.  Sick because Bart would do
this to him, his own brother, whom he'd loved and admired very much for
a short while, such a pitifully short while ... Just then the door
opened and Bart came striding out, wearing not one stitch of clothing.
He moved swiftly, his long legs a fast blur.  Embarrassed to see him
naked, I shrank back into the soft cushions, hoping he wouldn't see me.
He'd never forgive me.  I shouldn't be here."  ..... . , '.-."-... Due
to the sudden storm, the gloom in us sitting room was so dense there
was some hope he wouldn't notice me sitting on his white sofa. Straight
to the fully equipped bar he stalked, and with quick, skilled hands
mixed some drink using crystal decanters.  He sliced lemon, filled two
cocktail glasses, put those half-filled glasses on a silver tray and
headed back for his bed room.  The door behind him was kicked closed.

Cocktails in the morning, before twelve... ?

What would Joel think of that?

I sat on, hardly breathing.

Thunder rolled and lightning cracked, the ram beat on the windowpanes.
Lightning zagged and lit up the gloom every few seconds.

Moving to a more secluded spot in his room, I ma myself part of the
shadows behind a huge plant, th waited.

It seemed an eternity passed before that door open again, and I knew
Jory was waiting anxiously, perha] even angrily, for Melodic to show
up.  Two glasses, twi She was here.  She had to be here.

In die dimness I finally saw Melodie step out < Bart's bedroom wearing
a filmy peignoir that clear showed she wore nothing beneath.  A flash
of ligbtnii briefly illuminated her, showing the bulge of the bat that
was due early in January.

Oh, Mehdie, how can you do this to Jory?

"Come back," called Bart in a slurred, satis fie voice.

"It's raining.  The fire in here makes it cozier and we have nothing
better to do ..."

"I've got to bathe and dress and visit Jory," she sai< hesitating in
the doorway, looking at him with apparel longing.

"I want to stay, really I do, but Jory needs dc once in a while."

"Can he give you what I've just given you?"

"Please, Bart He needs me.  You don't know whit's Bice to be needed."

"No, I don't know.  Only the weak depend on otnei for sustenance."

"You've never been in love, Bart," she answere hoarsely, "so you can't
understand.  You take me, uf me, tell me I'm wonderful, but you don't
love me, ( truly need me.  Someone else would serve your purpos just as
well.  It feels good to be needed, to kno someone wants you more than
he wants anyone else.

"Leave, then," he said, his happy tone turniti quickly icy as he stayed
hidden from my sight.

"C

course 1 don't need you.  I don't need anyone.  I don know if what I
feel for you is love or just desire.  Eve pregnant, you're very
beautiful, and if your body doc give me pleasure now, it might not
tomorrow."

I could tell from her profile that she was hurt.  Sh

cried out pitifully, "Then why do you want me to come every day, every
night?  Why do your eyes follow wherever I go?  You do need me, Bart!
You do love me!

You're just ashamed to admit it.  Please don't talk so cruelly to me.
It hurts.  You seduced me when I was weak and afraid, and Jory was
still in the hospital.  You took me when I needed /um, and told me my
need was you!  You knew I was terrified Jory might die ... and 1 needed
someone."

"And that's all I am?"  he roared.

"A need?  I thought you loved me, really loved me!"

"I do, I do!"

"No, you don't!  How can you love me and still talk of him?  So go to
him.  See what he can give you now!"

She left, her frail garment fluttering behind her, reminding me of a
ghost frantically fleeing to try and find life.

The door slammed behind her.

Stiffly I rose from my chair, feeling my knee throbbing with pain, like
it always ached when it rained.  I limped a little as I neared the
closed door of Bart's bedroom.  I didn't even hesitate as I threw it
open.

Before he could protest I'd reached inside to throw the switch and
bring his cozy, fire lit room into electric brightness.

Immediately he bolted up in the middle of his king-sized bed.

"Mother!  What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?  Get out, out!"

I strode forward, covering the large space between the door and the bed
in a second.

"Whet the hell are you doing sleeping with your,
brothersvrife'i'Yow-injured' brother wife?"

"Get out of here!"  he bellowed, taking care to keep his privates well
covered, white the mat of dark hair on his chest seemed to bristle with
indignity.

"How doe you spy on me?"

"Don't you yell at me, Bart Fooworth!  Fm your mother, and you are not
thirty-five years old yet, so you can't order me out of this house.
I'll go when I'm ready,^ and that time hasn't arrived.  You owe me so
much, Bart, so much."  ^ "I owe you.  Mother?"  he asked sarcastically,
bitterly.

"Pray tell me why I owe you anything.  Should I thank you for my
father, whom you helped to kill?1" Should I say thank you for all those
miserable days when I was young and neglected, and unsure of
myself?";

Should I thank you now for putting me on such unstable ground that I
don't feel I'm a normal man, i capable of inspiring love?"  ^ His voice
broke as his head bowed.

"Don't stand] there and accuse me with those cursed Foxworth blue |
eyes.  You don't have to do one damned thing to make!

me feel guilty.  I was born feeling that way.  I took!

Melodic when she was crying and needing someone to| hold her and give
her confidence and love.  And I found?

for the first time the kind of love I've been hearing and reading about
all my life, from the noble type of woman.

who's only had one man.  Do you realize how rare they!

are?  Melodic is the first woman who has made me feel truly human. With
her I can relax, put down my guard,.

and she doesn't try to wound me.  She loves me, I Mother.  I don't
think I've ever been happier."  ^ "How can you say that when I just
overheard the words the two of you exchanged?"

He sobbed and fell back to roll on his side away from me, the sheet
just barely covering enough.

"I'm on the defensive, and so is she.  She feels she's betraying Jory
by loving me.  I feel much the same way.  Sometimes we can let go of
guilt and shame, and it's wonderful then.

When Jory was in the hospital, and you and Chris were gone all the
time, she didn't need a great deal of seducing.  She fell with only a
little reluctance into my arms, glad to have someone who cared enough
to understand her feelings.  Our fights all grow from the mire of
guilt.  Without Jory in the way, eageriy she'd run to me, be my
wife."

"BAKT!  You can't take Jbry's wife from him.  He

needs her as he has never needed her before!  You were wrong to take
her when she was weak from desperation and loneliness.  Give her up.
Stop making love to her.

Be loyal to Jory, as he's been loyal to you  Through everything, Jory
has stood behind you remember that."

He flipped over, clutching the black sheet modestly.

Something fragile broke behind his eyes and made him seem vulnerable, a
pathetic child again.  A wounded, small child who didn't like himself.
His voice was hoarse when he said, "Yes, I love Melodic.  I love her
enough to marry her.  I love her with every bone, muscle, ounce of my
flesh.  She's awakened me from a deep sleep.  You see, she's the first
woman I've loved.  I have never been touched or moved by a woman as
I've been touched and moved by Melodic.  She slipped into my heart and
now I can't push her out.  She steals into my room wearing her delicate
clothes, with her beautiful long and shining hair down, fresh from her
bath and smelling sweet, and she just stands there, pleading with her
eyes, and I feel my heart begin to beat foster, and when I dream, I
dream of her.  She's become the most wonderful thing in my life.

"Don't you see why Ican't give her up?  She's the one who has really
awakened this burning desire for love and sex that I didn't even know I
had.  I thought that sex was a sin, and never did I pull away from a
woman without feeling dirty, even dirtier than I thought I left her.
When I made love to other women, I was always left feeling guilty, as
if two naked bodies meeting in passion was evil now I know differently.
She's made me realize how beautiful loving can be, and now I don't know
how to carry on without her.  Jory can't be a real lover anymore. Let
me be the husband she needs and wants.  Help me to build a normal life
for her and for myself... or else .. ,1 don't know ... I just don't
know what will happen ..."  His dark eyes turned my way, pleading for
my understanding.

Oh, to hear him say all of that, when all his life I'd longed to have
Ids confidence, and now tint I had it, what could I do?  I loved Bart,
as I loved Jory.  I stood there wringing my hands, twisting my
conscience and tormenting myself with guilt, for somehow I must have
brought this about.  I had neglected Bart, favored Jory, Cindy... Now
I, and Jory, had to pay die price ... again.

He spoke, his voice lower and cracked, making him;;

seem even younger and more vulnerable as he lay there, trying to lock
his happiness away in a safe place I couldn't reach, and in this way
forever shield it from killing exposure.  ^ "Mother, for once in your
life, see something from.

my side.  Tm not bad, not wicked, or die beast y< sometimes make me
feel I am.  I'm only a man who h never fete good about himself.  Help
me.  Mother.  He Melodic have the kind of husband she needs now til
Jory cant be a real man anymore."

The rain beat a frantic tattoo on the window glass.

matched the rhythm of my heart.  The wind whistle and shrieked around
the house, while frenzied h wings threw themselves against the inside
of my skull.  l| couldn't split Melodic into two equal halves and give
to | Jory and Bart each their share.  I had to stick with whatc;

I knew was right.  Bart's love for Melodic was Jory needed her most.

Still I stood there, riveted to the carpet.,. a overwhelmed with my
second son's desperate need to be loved.  So many times in the past I'd
believed him capable of evil, and he'd been proven innocent.  Did m own
guilt for bringing him into being curse me with eyes that refused to
see the good in Bart?  4 "Are you sure, Bart?  Doyou truly love
Melodic--osrS| do you just want her because she belongs to Jory?"  '
Turning on his back, his dark eyes met mine with more honesty than he'd
ever shown.  How those dark1!

eyes pleaded for understanding.

"In the beginning I wanted Melodic only because she belonged to Jory.

I

honestly admit that.  I wanted to take from him what he treasured
most.  Because he'd taken from me what I wanted most--YOU!"

I cringed as he went on.

"She rejected my advances so many times that I began to respect her, to
see her as different from other women who were easy to get.  The more
she shoved me away, the higher burned my desire, until I had to have
her or die.  I love her!  Yes, she's made me vulnerable ... and now 1
don't know how to Bye without her!"

I threw my hands wide before I sank to the side of his king-sized
bed.

"Oh, Ban ... what a pity it couldn't have been another woman.  Any
woman but Melodic.

I'm glad you've experienced love--and know it isn't dirty Or sinful.
Would God have made men and women the way he did if he hadn't meant for
diem to join together?  He planned it that way.  We recreateow- selves
through love.  But Bart, you have to promise not to see her alone
again, Wait until Melodic has her baby before you and she decide
anything."

His eyes filled with hope, with gratitude.

"Youll help me?"  Disbelief flooded his eyes.

"I never thought you would ..-.", , , I ...."  ... ,-, ......: 1 ..."
....;:

"Wait, please wait.  Let Melodic have her child, then go to her, and
then to Jory, and face up to him, Bart.

Tell turn how you feel about her.  Don't steal his wife without giving
him a chance to have his say."

"What can he say.  Mother, that will make, any difference?  He'salready
tost.  He can't dance.  He can't even; walk.  He can't perform phys
caUy " ; >... Seconds ticked away before I found more useless words to
speak.

"But does she honestly love yon?  I was in your sitting room.  I heard
her.  She hasn't had her say in this matter.  From what I can tell,
she's torn between loving Jory and needing you.  Don't take advantage
of her weakness, or Jory's disabilities.  Give him time to
recover-.-then do what you must.  It fern' it fair.  to steal from Jory
when he can't fight back.  Give her time to adjust to Jory's
condition.  Then, if she stiH wants you, take her, for she'd only harm
him mote.  But what would you do with Jory's child?  Will you take that
chfld^ from Jory, as well as take his wife?  Are you planning to leave
him nothing?"  I Staring up at me, his eyes glittered suspiciously.
Bart jerked his eyes away to stare up at the ceiling.

"I don'y | know yet about the baby.  I haven't thought it out to | that
extent.  I try not to think of the baby--and ye don't have to go
running to Chris or Jory with this.  R once in your life, give me a
chance to have something i my very own."

"Bart--" "Go now, please.  Leave me alone to think.  I'm 1 You can
weaken a man.  Mother, with your dem with your judgments.  Just give me
a fair chance time to prove to you that I'm not as bad as you think, i
as crazy as I once believed myself to be."

He didn't ask me again not to ten Jory, or Chris, t if he knew I
wouldn't.  Standing and turning about, left his room.

On the way back to my room I thought about confronting Melodic, but I
was too upset to face her without giving it more thought.  She was
already distraught enough, and I had to consider the health of her
child.

Alone in my rooms, I sat before a guttering log fire and contemplated
what to do.  Jory's needs came first.

In three months Jory's strong legs had begun to wittier into thin
sticks, reminding me of Bart's legs when he was very young.  Short,
thin legs covered with scratches, cuts and bruises, always falling,
always breaking his bones.  Punishing himself for being born and not
living up to the standards Jory bad set.  That atone stood me up and
headed me toward lory's bedroom.

I stood in his doorway, my face washed dean of tear streaks, my eyes
cooled by ice packs so they weren't red, and I smiled brightly at my
firstborn.

"Melodic is napping, Jory.  But she'll see you before dinner.  I think
it would be nice for the two of you to dine alone before the fireplace.
The rain outside will make it very cozy in here.  I've asked Trevor and
Henry to carry up logs and a special small table for dining.  I've
planned a menu with everything you like.  Now, what can I do to help
you dress and look your best?"

He shrugged indifferently.  Before die accident he'd always loved
clothes, had always groomed himself to perfection.

"What difference now.  Mom, what difference  I see you didn't bring her
back with you, and why did it take you so long to come back and say
she's napping?"

"The telephone rang ... and Jory, I have to do a few things for myself
once in a while.  So now, what suit do you favor most?"

"Pajamas and a robe will do," he said distantly.

"Listen to me, Jory.  Tonight you are going to sit in that electric
wheekhair, wearing one of your father's suits, since you didn't bring a
winter suit with you."

Immediately he objected, while I insisted.

Already we'd sent to New York for all of lory's clothes, but Melodic
had requested we leave hers where they were and that had made me heat
with anger inside, although I'd said nothing.

"When you look good, you feel good, and that's half the battle.  You've
stopped caring about your appearance  I'm going to shave your face even
if you do want to grow a beard.  You're much too handsome to hide
behind bristly hair.  You've got the most beautiful mouth, and a strong
chin.  Only weak-chinned men should hide behind beards."

Eventually he gave up and smiled sardonically, agreeing to all I wanted
to do to make him look more like himself.

"Mom, you're something else.  You care so damned much but I won't ask
why.  I'm just grateful somebody cares enough."  / About that time
Chris drove home from Chariottesville, and he was eager to help.  He
shaved Jory's handsome face with a straight-edge razor, claiming that
kind of shave did more for a man than anything else.

I sat on the bed to watch Chris finish the shaving before he splashed
on lotion and cologne.  All the time Jory looked so tolerant.  I
couldn't help but wonder what Bart was doing, and how I was going to
approach Melodic and tell her that I knew what was going on between her
and my second son.

Already Jory's arms were strong enough to swing his upper body into the
chair.  Chris and I stood back and watched, not offering to help,
knowing he had to do this for himself.  He seemed somewhat humiliated,
and also somewhat proud that he did it easily the first time.

Once he was in the chair, Jory looked pleased despite himself.

"Not so bad," he said as he studied his face in the mirror I held up.
He activated the chair and buzzed around the room for a trial spin.  He
grinned at us both.

"It is better than the bed.  What a fool you must think me--now it will
be easier to finish the ship before Christmas, and maybe, with
pampering like this, I'll struggle through."

"As if we ever believed anything else," said Chris happily.

"Now contain yourself, Jory-...I'm going for Met* odie," I said,
delighted with the way he looked, and the glow of happiness in his
eyes, and his excitement to be mobile again, even if he had wheels
instead of legs "Melodic is probably dressed and ready for dinner
downstairs.  As you know, our formerly sloppy Bart is now a stickler
for all the niceties of living elegantly."

"Tell her to hurry," called Jory behind me, sounding more like his old
self.

"I'm famished.  And the sight of that fire burning makes me want her
very badly."

With many trepidations I headed for Metodie's room, knowing I was going
to face her down with what I'd found out--and when I was finished, I
might very

ISO

well have driven her straight into Bart's ready arms.

That was the chance I took.

One brother would win.

The other would lose.

And I wanted them both to win.

Melodious Betrayal

Softly Irapped on Melodic's door.  I could hear faintly through the
heavy wood the music from Swan Lake.

She must have had it playing very loud, or else I wouldn't be hearing
it at all.  I knocked again.  She didn't respond.  This time when she
didn't answer I opened her door and stepped inside, quietly closing the
door behind me.  Her room was messy with clothes dropped on the floor;
cosmetics littered the dressing room table.

"Melodic, where are you?"  .

Her bathroom was empty.  Oh, damn!  She'd gone to Bart.  In a flash I
was off and running back to Bart's wing.  On his door I banged
furiously.

"Bart, Melodic .  you can't do this to Jory."

They weren't there.

I flew down the back stairs, heading for the dining room, half
expecting they'd start dinner without Chris and me.  Trevor was setting
the table for two, measuring with his eye the distance of the plate
from the edge of the table with such precision it was as if be used a
ruler.

I slowed down to walk into the dining room.

"Trevor, have you seen my second son?"

"Oh, yes, my lady," be said in his polite British way, beginning to lay
out the silver flatware.

"Mr.  Foxworth and Mrs.  Marquet just left to eat in a restaurant.
Mr.

Foxworth requested that I tell you he'd be back ... soon."

"What did he really say, Trevor?"  I asked, feeling sick at heart.

"My lady, Mr.  Fbxworth was just a wee bit drunk.

Not too drunk, so don't worry about the rain and accidents.  I'm sure
he can control the car, and Mrs.

Marquet will be just fine.  It's a lovely night for driving if you like
rain."

I hurried on toward the garage, hoping to be in time to stop them.  Too
late!  And it was just as I'd feared.

Bart had taken Melodic in his small, fast, sports car, the red
Jaguar.

My steps were snail-like as I headed back up the stairs.  Jory was
glowing from-the champagne he'd sipped as he waited.  Chns had gone on
to our room to change for dinner..

"Where is my wife?"  asked Jory, seated at the small table Henry and
Trevor had carried up.  Fresh flowers from our greenhouse centered the
table, and with the champagne cooling in a silver ice bucket the
atmosphere was festive and seductive, especially with the log fire
burning to chase away the damp chill.  Jory looked very much like
himself with his tegs hidden, and the chair he'd hated was hardly
noticeable.

Should I make up a lie this time, as I had before?

All the brightness in his eyes faded.

"So she's not coming," he said in a flat way.

"She never comes here anymore--at least not inside the room.  She
lingers in the doorway and speaks to me from a distance."  His husky
voice cracked, then broke entirely and he was crying.-- -; , " , : "- ,
.  , "I'm trying, Mom, really trying to accept this and not be bitter.
But when I see what's happening between me and my wife, I come apart
inside.  I know what she's thinking even when she says nothing.  I'm
not a real man anymore, and she doesn't know how to cope with that."

I fell upon my knees at his side and took him into my arms.

"She'll learn, Jory, she'll learn.  We all have to learn how to cope
with what can't be helped.  Give her

time.  Wait until after the baby conics.  She'll change.  I promise
she'll change.  You will have given her your child.  There's nothing
like a baby of your own to hold in your arms to put joy in your heart.
The sweetness of a baby, the thrill of having one small, tiny bit of
humanity entirely dependent on you to shape and mold.  Jory, just you
wait and see how Melodic changes."  ... , , .. ,

His tears had stopped, but the anguish in his eyes stayed.

"I don't know if I can wait," he whispered hoarsely.

"When there are others around to see, I smile and act content.  But I'm
thinking all the time about putting an end to this and setting Melodic
free of all obligations.

It's not fair to expect her to stay on.  I'm going to tell her tonight
that she can go if she wants, or she can stay until after the baby is
born and then leave, and file for divorce.  F won't contest."

"No, Joryt" I flared.

"Say nothing to upset her more--just give her time.  Let her adjust.
The baby will help her adjust."

"But, Mom, I don't know if I can live through to the end now.  I think
all the time about suicide.  I think of my father and wish I bad the
courage to do what be did."

"No, darling, hang on.  You'll never be alone."

Chris and I sat down at the small table to keep hint company.  He
didn't speak a dozen words during the meal.

At bedtime, I stealthily put away all the razors and everything with
which he could harm himself.  I slept on the couch in his room that
night, fearful he was so despondent he might try to end his life just
to give Melodic freedom to leave without guilt.  His moans reached me
even as I dreamed.

"Mel... my legs ache!"  he cried out in his sleep  I got up to comfort
him.  He wakened and stared at me in a disoriented way.

"Every night my back and my legs ache," he answered sleepily in reply
to my questions.

"I

don't need sympathy for my phantom pains.  I just want a fuH night's
rest."  i AH through the night he writhed in agony.  The tegs that he
couldn't feel during tile day by night tormented him with constant
pain.  The lower part of his back stabbed him with repeated jabs.

"Why do I feel pain at night, when I feel nothing during the day?"  he
cried out, sweat pouring down his face, sticking his pajama jacket to
his chest.

"I still wish I had the nerve my father did--that would solve all our
problems!"

No, no, no.  I clung to him, covering his face with kisses, promising
him everything and anything to make him cling to life.

"It will work out, Jory, it will!  Hang in there.  Don't give up and
lose the greatest challenge of your life.  You have me and you have
Chris and sooner;

or later Melodic will come around and be your wife again."  ;

Bleakly he stared at me, as if I spoke of pipe dreams made of nothing
but smoke.

"Go sleep in your own room.  Mom.  You make me feel more like a child
by staying here.  I promise not to j do anything to make you cry
again."  I "Darling, be sure and ring for your fatter or me if you need
anything.  Neither one of us minds getting up.  ;

Don't call for Melodic, for she might trip and fall in the i dark now
that she's kind of unsteady on her feet.  I've always been a light
sleeper, and it's easy for me to fall ^ asleep again.  Are you
listening, Jory?"  ' "Sure, I'm listening," he said with his eyes blank
and remote.

"If there's one thing I'm good at now, it's listening."

"And soon the physical therapist will come to start you on the road to
recovery."

"Recovery, Mom?"  His eyes looked tired, very shadowed and dark.

"You mean that back brace I'll be fitted for?  Indeed, I am looking
forward to using that thing.  The leg braces are going to be a real joy
to wear.

Isn't it fortunate I won't feel them?  And I'm not even going
to-mention that harness contraption that will make me think of myself
as a horse.  I'll just think it will keep me from falling .. ."  He
paused, covered his face with his hands briefly, threw back his head
and sighed.

"Lord, give me strength to endure are you punishing me for having too
much pride in my legs and body?

You've done a damned good job of bringing me low."

His hands came down.  Tears shone in his eyes, streaked his cheeks.  In
a moment he was apologizing.

"Sorry about that.  Mom.  Tears of self-pity aren't very manly, are
they?  Can't be brave and strong all the time.

Got my moments of weakness just like everyone else.

Go back to your room.  I'm not going to do anything to cause you and
Dad more grief.  Ill see this thing through to the end.  Good night.
Say good night to Melodic for me when she conics in."

I cried in Chris's arms, causing him to ask a thousand questions that I
refused to answer.  Frustrated and more than a bit angry, he flipped
away.

"You can't fool me, Catherine.  You're holding something back, thinking
it will add another burden, when not to know what's going on is the
heaviest of all burdens!"

He waited for me to reply.  When I didn't, he quickly fell asleep on
his side.  He had the most irritating habit of being able to sleep when
I couldn't.  I wanted him awake, forcing me to answer the questions I'd
just avoided.  But be slept on and on, turning to embrace me in his
steep, burying his face in my hair.

Every hour I was up and checking to see if Bart had brought Melodic
home, checking to see if Jory was all right.  Jory lay on his bed with
his eyes wide open, apparently waiting, as I did, for Melodic to come
home.

"Has the phantom pain eased up?"

"Yes, go back to bed.  I'm fine."

I met Joel in the hallway outside Bart's room.  He flushed to see me in
my lacy white negligee.

"Joel," I said, "I thought you changed your mind about living under
this roof and went back to that small cell over the garage..."

"Used to, Catherine, used to," he mutt end

"Bart ordered me into the house, saying a Fbxworth shouldn't be treated
like a servant."  His watery eyes reproached me for not objecting when
he'd informed us he liked the garage cell better than the nice room in
Bart's wing of the house.

"You don't know what it's like to be old and lonely, niece.  I've
suffered from insomnia for years and years, troubled by bad dreams,
with vague aches and pains that kept me from ever reaching that deep
steep I yearn for.  So I get up totire myself, I roam about..."

Roam about?  Spying^ that's what he did!  Then, looking at him more
closely, I felt ashamed.  Standing there in the gloom of the hall, he
appeared so frail, so sickly and thin--was I being unfair to Joel?  Did
I dislike him only because he was Malcolm's son?--and had that
detestable habit of muttering to himself incessant quotes from the
Bible to take me back in time to our grandmother, and her insistence
that we team a quote each day from the holy book.

"Good night, Joel," I said with more kindness than u-'ial.  Still, as
he continued to stand there, as if to win me to his side, I thought of
Bart, who had said many a painful thing to me when he was a boy, but
not since he'd been an adult.  Now he, too, was reading the Bible,
using the words written in there to prove some moot point.  Had Joel
helped bring life back to what I thought was dormant?  I stared at the
old man, who edged away from me almost fearfully.

"Why do you look Like that?"  I asked sharply.

"Uke what, Catherine?"

"Like you're afraid of me."

His smile was thin, pitiful.

"You are a fearsome woman, Catherine.  Despite all your blond
prettiness, you can sometimes act as hard as my mother."

I started, stunned that he could think that.  I could not possibly be
like that mean old woman.

"You also remind me of your mother," he whispered in his thin, brittle
voice, drawing his old bathrobe more tightly about his skinny frame.

"And you seem far too young to be in your fifties.  My father used to
say the wicked always managed to stay young and healthy longer than
those who had a place waiting for them in Heaven."

"If your father went on to Heaven, Joel, then I win gladly go in the
opposite direction."

He eyed me as if I were a pitiful object who just didn't understand
before he ambled away.

Once I was back beside Chris, he woke up long enough for me to spilt
out the scene between Joel and me.  Chris glared at me in the
dimness.

"Catherine, how rude of you to talk to an old man like that.  Of course
you can't drive him out.  In a way he has more right here than all of
us, and it is Bart's home legally, even if we do have lifetime
residency privileges."

Anger filled me.

"Can't you recognize that Joel has become the father figure Bart has
been looking for all his life?"  And there I'd gone and hurt him.  He
stiffened and turned away from me.

"Good night, Catherine.  Perhaps you should stay in bed and mind your
own business for a rare change.  Joel is a lonely old man who is
grateful to have a champion like Bart and a place where he can live out
the rest of his life.  Stop imagining you see Malcolm in every old ^nan
you meet, for eventually, if I livelong enough, I'u be another old
man."

"If you look and act like Joel, I'll be glad to see the end of you as
well."

Oh, how could I say that to the man I loved?  He shifted farther away,
then refused to respond to my touch on his arm.

"Chris, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean that."  My hand caressed his arm,
then moved to slip inside his pajama jacket.

"I think it best if you keep your hands to yourself

I'm not in the mood now.  Good night, Catherine, and remember, when you
look for trouble, you usually find it."

I heard a distant door close.  My illuminated wristwatch read
three-thirty.  Drawing on a robe, I slipped into Melodie's room and sat
down to wait.  It was four before she managed the long trip from the
garage to her bedroom.  Did she and Bart stop to embrace and kiss?

Did they whisper love words they couldn't save for tomorrow?  What else
could be taking her so long?

Faint hints of dawn approaching showed over the rimming mountains.  I
paced the floor of her room, growing terribly impatient.  Finally I
heard her coming.

Stumbling in the door of her room.  Melodic held her high-heeled silver
slippers in one hand, and in her other hand she held a small silver
clutch.

She was six months pregnant, but in her loose-fitting black dress it
was hardly noticeable.  She jerked when she saw me rise from a chair,
then choked as she backed away.

"Well, Melodic," I said cynically, "don't you look pretty."

"Cathy, is Jory all right?"

"Do you really care?"

"You sound so angry with me.  You look at me so hard--what have I done,
Cathy?"

"As if you don't know," I said to her with angry emphasis, forgetting
the tact I'd intended to use.

"You slip out on a rainy night with my second son, and you come home
hours later with red strawberry marks on your neck, with your lipstick
smeared and your hair unbound, and still you ask, what..  . have..  .
you .  done.  Why don't you tell me ... what you have done."

She stared at me with huge eyes of disbelief, half blended with guilt,
with shame, but there was some element of hope there as well.

"You've been like my mother, Cathy," she cried, her eyes tearing as
they

pleaded for my understanding.

"Please don't fail me now now when I need a mother more than I ever
have before."

"But you forget, I am Jory's mother first and fore most.  I am also
Bart's mother.  When you betray Jory, you betray me."

Melodic cried out again, pleading with me to listen to her.

"Don't turn away from me now, Cathy.  I have no one but you who will
understand.  Certainly you of all people have to understand!  I love
Jory, I'll always love him " "And so you go to bed with Bart?  What a
fine way to show your love" I interrupted.  My voice sounded cold and
hard.

Her face lowered into my lap as her arms wrapped around my waist.  She
clung to me.

"Cathy, please.

Wait until you hear my side."  Her face lifted, already stained with
tears, black tears because of her mascara.

Somehow this served only to make her look more pitifully vulnerable.

"I'm part of the ballet world, Cathy, and you know what that means.  We
are the dancers who take music into our bodies and souls and make it
visible for all to see, and for that we pay a price, a heavy price. You
know the price.  We dance with our souls bared for all to view and
criticize if they will, and when the dance ends, and we hear the
applause, and we accept the roses, and take the bows and the curtain
calls, and hear die cans of bravo!  brow!  finally we end up backstage
to take off the makeup, to put on every day mundane clothes, and then
we know the best of what we are fen't real, only fantasy.  We float on
wings of sensuality so powerful nobody can realize as we do the pain of
all that's so insensitive and cruel and brutal in reality."

She hesitated to gain the strength to go on, while I sat stunned with
her acuteness, for I knew the truth when I heard it who would know
better than I?

"Out there in the audience they think most of us are gay.  They don't
realize we're borne on the music, sustained by the music, made bigger
than life by the sets, the applause, the adulation, and least of all do
they realize that lovemaking is all that keeps us really nourished.
Jory and I used to fall passionately into each other's arms the minute
we were alone and only then could we find the release we needed to wind
down enough to fall asleep.  Now I have no release, nor does he.  He
won't listen to the music, and I can't turn it off."

"But you have a lover," I said weakly, fully understanding every word
she'd said.  Once I, too, had flown on the joyous wings of music, and
drifted downward, sick because there was no one to love me and lend
reality to the fantasy world I loved best of all.

"Listen, Cathy, please.  Give me a chance to explain.

You know how boring it is in this house, with no one ever visiting, and
the only time the phone rings it's Bart they want.  You and Chris and
Cindy were always in the hospital with Jory, while I was a coward and
hung back, scared, so scared he'd see my fright.  I tried to read,
tried to entertain myself with knitting like you do, but I couldn't do
it.  I gave up and waited for the telephone to ring.  Nobody from New
York ever calls me.  I took walks, pulled weeds from the garden.  Cried
in the woods, stared at the sky, watched the butterflies, and cried
some more.

"Several nights after we found out that Jory would never walk or dance
again, Bart came to my room.  He closed the door behind him and just
stood there looking at me.  I was on the bed, crying as usual.  I had
ballet music playing, trying to recreate the feeling of how it had been
with Jory, and Bart was there, staring at me with those dark
mesmerizing eyes.  He stood waiting, just looking at me, until I
stopped crying and be came closer to wipe the tears from my face.  His
eyes turned soft with love when I sat up and just stared at him.  I'd
never seen his eyes so kind, so fait of tenderness and compassion.  He
touched me.  My cheek, my hair, my

lips.  Shivers began to race up and down my spine.  He put his hands
in my hair, stared into my eyes, and slowly, ever so slowly he inclined
his head until his tips brushed over mine.  I'd never guessed he could
be so gentle.  I'd always presumed he'd take a woman by brutal force.
Maybe if he had touched me with rough, uncaring hands I would have
turned away.  But his gentleness was my undoing.  He reminded me of
Jory."

Oh, I didn't want to hear anymore.  I had to stop her before I felt
pity and sympathy for her, for Bart.

"I don't want to hear anymore.  Melodic," I said coldly, jerking my
head so I didn't have to took.  at the love marks that Jory might
notice if she went to him now.

"So now when Jory needs you most, you intend to fail him and turn to
Bart," Isaid bitterty.

"What a wonderful wife you are.  Melodic."

She sobbed louder, covering her face with her hands.

"I remember your wedding day when you stood before the altar and made
your vows of fidelity, for better or for worse -and the first worse
that turns up, you find a new lover."  ."

White she sniffled and tried to had better words to win Ede to her side
I thought of how lonely this mountainside home was, how isolated. And
we'd left Melodic here thinking she was too upset to want to drive
anywhere.  Thoughtless about what she and Bart could be doing, never
suspecting she'd turn to him the very one she'd seemed to dislike so
much.  ;

Still sniffling and crying.  Melodic fiddled with her strap, white her
washed-out eyes took on a certain wariness.

"How can you condemn me, Cathy, when you have done even worse?"

Stung, I rose to leave, feeling that my legs had turned to lead along
with my heart.  She was right.  I wasn't any better.  I, too, had
failed, and more than once, to do the right thing.

"Will you forget Bart and stay away from him, and convince Jory'you
stullove him?"  : :

"I do still love Jory, Cathy.  It may sound strange, but nothineaf1 m
a <nfferent way.  a strange way that has was my ck1111 to do with the
way I feel about Jorv' 3my young-^Idhood sweetheart and my best friend.
His he's chan?011101^was someone I Dever '^Y liiked but hates wofc^*
Cathy, ^e has, really.  No man who really My lint60 can make love as he
does " condemni ^htened.  I stood in the open doorway demned" ner' as
once my grand"*01" !"  had contelline nii?^ wltn ^'^ P111* 88
steel-gray eyes alone "Doo.^ * was the worst kind of sinner.

put tine fn^ ^e^ore ^ raake you understand!"  she cried, door thiA?"1
her arms and beseeching me.  I closed the 111 stavC1^^-10 1* Md backed
against it.

"All right, "Bah' F11!  won't understand."

says it ives me' Catfly, really loves me.  When he divorce A?1"'1 ^^
but "ell ^ h""- H ^^ants me to tearful vo^' Bart has said ]he will
inarry me."  Her (,^(Q^0^ diminished to a husky whisper.

"I don't confined .^"^^ if I can Kve but my life with a husband
^"r***jm^u s-f} i_ i " sqm,- a wheelchair."

knee line S0101 tnan before, she broke and from her "Fm not position
feu "i a crumpled heap on the floor;

the suDbo-""^ Bfce y0" are, Cathy.  I can't give Jory what tod' he
needs now-I don't falQW what to ^y'or brine baA for I'm I want to turo
back tDe dock ""^ one; I do the AI used to "ave, for I don't know thit
I'm'asha*^ * even fhink I want to know ham .. and1 vanished' so
ashamed!  Now aD I want to do it not lomi?6 took on the ^eety edge of a
razor.

"You're' Melodic t10 ttcaPe your responsibilities that eas^r?

marriaeeJ'll1 Aere *0 see that you live up to ybBEl You wufit^5-Fnst'
y0" will cut Bart out of your 11(1^ say no ^ever allow him to touch you
again.  yew wBl confront k?^ time lre tries anything.  I am going t but
I'm .S?  again.  Yes.  I've already faced him dowa^

Chris an??^10^ ^gA K 1 have to"I will r ^ is a vervt^'""1"I ^^"a^s
going on.  As you know, < Pfttient, understanding man with a great

of control, but he won't condone what you're doing with Bart."

"Please," she cried.

"I love Chris like a father!  I want him to keep on respecting me."

"Then leave Bart alone!  Think of your child, which should come first.
You shouldn't be having sex now anyway, it's sometimes not safe."

Her huge eyes closed, squeezed back the tears; then she was nodding and
promising never to make love with Bart again.  Even as she vowed, I
didn't believe her.  I didn't believe Bart either when I spoke to him
before 1 went to bed.

Morning came and I hadn't slept at all, I rose, tired and listless,
putting on a false smile for Jory before I tapped on his door,
announcing myself.  He invited me to come in.  Heappeared happier than
he had last night for some reason, as if overnight thought had calmed
him down.

"I'm glad Melodic has you to lean on," said Jory as I helped him to
turn over.

Each day Chris, the nurse and I took turns moving his legs and
massaging them when the therapist wasn't there to do it for him.  This
way his muscles wouldn't atrophy.  His tegs, due to the massaging, had
regained a little of their former shape.

I took that as a bilge step forward.  Hope... in this house of dark
misery we were always clinging to hope we colored yellow--like'lhesuri
we'd seldom seen

"I was expecting Melodic to come in this morning," Jory said with a bit
of wistfulness, "since she failed to even stop by and say good n^lt
last night.^ "'

Days passed.  Melodic disappeared often, as did Bart.  My faith in
Melodie had eroded.  No longer could I meet her eyes and smite.  I
stopped trying to talk to Bart and turned to Jory for companionship. We
watched TV together.  We played games together.  We competed in silly
jigsaw competitions to see who could find the right pieces faster.  We
sipped wine in the

afternoon, grew sleepy by nine and pretended, pre tended that
everything would work out fine.

There was something about being in bed most of the time that made him
exceptionally fatigued.

"It's the lack of proper exercise," he said, pulling on the trapeze
fastened to his headboard.

"At least I'm keeping my arms strong where did you say Melodic was?"

I put down the boo tee I'd just finished and picked up the yarn to make
another.  In between games I knitted and watched TV.  When I wasn't
with Jory, I was in my room typing the journal I was keeping of our
lives.  My last book, I told myself.  What more did I have to say?

What else could happen to us?

"Mom?  Don't you ever listen to me?  I asked if you knew where Melodic
was, and what she's doing."

"She's in the kitchen, toy," I said quickly.

"Busy preparing just the kind of dinner you like most."

A took of relief brightened his face.

"I'm worried about my wife.  Mom, She comes in and does small things
for me, but her heart doesn't seem in it."  A shadow fleeted through
his eyes, quick to disappear when he saw my piercing took.

"I say to you all the| dungs I need to say to her.  It hurts to watch
her pulling away from me bit by bit.  I want to speak out and say I'm
still the same man inside, but I don't think she wants to know that.  I
believe she wants to think that I'm different because I can no longer
dance or walk, and that makes it easier for her to break away and
release all the, ties that bind us.  She never talks to me about the
future.  She hasn't even discussed names for our child.  I've been
looking in books for just the right names for our son or daughter.  I
tell myself, like you said, that she's pregnant, and I've been reading
up oa that subject, too.  Just to make up for my former lack of
interest..."  .. , .;. ...y On and on he talked, convincing himself
with his own words that it was her pregnancy that was responsible for
all the changes in his wife.  ;

ao I cleared my throat and used my chance.

"Jory, I've been giving this serious thought.  Your doctor said once
you'd be better off in the hospital than staying here and having
someone come to help with your rehabilitation.

You and Melodic can rent a small apartment near the hospital, and she
can drive you each day to Rehab.  It's almost winter, Jory.  You don't
know about winters in this western mountainous part of Virginia.
They're freezing.  The wind never stops blowing.  It snows often.

The roads leading here from the village are often blocked.  The state
keeps the highways and expressways open, but the small private roads to
this estate are often closed.  I'm thinking of the days when your nurse
won't be able to come, or your physical therapist, and you need daily
exercise.  If you live near the hospital, all your physical needs can
easily be met."

He stared at me in hurt surprise.

"You mean you want to get rid of me?"

"Of course not.  You've got to confess you don't like this house."

His eyes darted to the windows where the ram was coming down hard,
driving dead leaves and late blooming roses into the earth.  All the
summer birds hadflownaway.

The wind whipped around the house, finding its way through small
crevices, shrieking and howling in this replica just as much as it bad
in the old, old original.

Jory said from behind me, as I just continued staring out, "I like what
you and Mel did to these rooms.

You've given me a haven safe from the scorn of the world, and right
now, I don't want to leave and face those who used to admire my grace
and skill.  I don't want to be separated from you and Dad.  I feel
we've grown doser than we've ever been, and the holidays arecomingup.

"And if the roads from here to there might be closed for my nurse and
my therapist, they'll also be closed for you and Dad.  Don't put me
out.  Mom, when I most want to stay.  I need you.  I need Dad.  I even
need this chance to grow closer to my brother.  I've been thinking a
lot about Bart recently.  Sometimes he comes and sits nearby, and we
talk.  I think, at last, we're beginning to be the kind of friends we
were before your mother moved into that house next door, way back when
he was nine ..."

Uneasily I fidgeted, thinking of Bart's dual face, coming in to be his
brother's friend and seducing his wife behind his back.

"If it's what you want, Jory, stay.  But give it more thought Chris and
I could move to the city just to be with you and Melodic, and we can
make things as comfortable for you there as they are here."

"But you can't give me another brother at this late date, can you. Mom?
Bart's the only brother I'm going to have.  Before I die, or he does,
I want him to know I care what happens to him.  I want to see him
happy.  1 want him to have the kind of married life I share with Mel.
Someday he's got to wake up to the fact that money can't buy
everything, and most certainly, it can't buy love.  Not the kind of
love Mel and I have."

He looked thoughtful, as I inwardly cried for him and his "love"; then
a blush rose up from the neck of las sports shirt covered with a red
sweater that put color in his wan cheeks.

"At least, I should add, the kind of marriage we used to have.  It's
not much of a marriage now, I'm sorry to admit.  But that's not her
fault."

A week later I was alone in my room, furiously writing in the journal,
when I heard the pounding of Chris's footfalls as he ran and burst in
on me.

"Cathy," he said excitedly, throwing off his topcoat, hurling it to a
chair, "I've got wonderful news!  You know that experiment I was
assisting with?  There's been a breakthrough:" He pulled me up from my
desk, shoved me into a chair before the roaring fire.  He explained in
minute detail all that he and other scientists were trying

to accomplish, "It means I'll be away from home five nights a week,
now that winter's come.  The snow isn't cleared until around noon, and
that gives me so little time in the lab.  But don't look sad, I'll be
here on weekends.  But if you object, tell me honestly.  My first duty
is to you and our family."

His excitement over this new project was so evident I couldn't dash his
enthusiasm with my fears.  He'd given so much to me, to Jory and Bart,
and received so little appreciation.  My arms went automatically around
his neck.  I scanned over his dear, familiar face.  I saw faint
etchings around his blue eyes that I hadn't noticed before.  My fingers
in his hair found silver that was coarser in texture than the gold.
There were a few gray hairs in his eyebrows.

"If this is going to make you unhappy, I can always quit and forget
about research, and devote all my time to my family.  But III be very
grateful if you give me this opportunity.  I thought when I gave up my
practice in California that I would never find anything to interest me
more, but I was wrong.  Perhaps this was meant to be but, if necessary,
I con give it up and stay here with my family."

Give up medicine entirely?  He'd centered the major portion of his life
on the study of medicine.  To feel useful gave added zest to his life.
To keep him here just to please myself, doing nothing that would
contribute to mankind at this crucial point when he felt vulnerable by
being middle-aged, would destroy him.

"Cathy," Chris said, interrupting my thoughts as he pulled on his heavy
woolen coat again, "are you all right?  Why do you look so strange?  So
sad?  I'B be back every Friday evening and won't leave until Monday
morning.  Explain to Jory everything I've told you.  No, on second
thought, I'll stop by his room and explain myself."

"If it's what you want, then it's what you have to do.

But we're going to miss you.  I don't know how 1 can sleep without you
beside me.  You see, I talked to Jory, and he doesn't want to move to
Chariottesville.  I think he's grown to like his rooms very much.  He's
almost finished that clipper ship.  And it would be a pity to deprive
him of all the comforts he has here.  And Christmas isn't too far away.
Cindy will be coming home for Thanksgiving to stay until the New
Year.

Chris, promise to make real efforts to come home every Friday.  Jory
needs your strength as well as mine since Melodic fails him entirely."
ri Qh I'd said too much.  " 1 His eyes narrowed.

"What's going on that you're nofc| telling me?"  He pulled off the
heavy coat and carefully hung it up.  Swallowing first, I started to
speak, faltered, tried to pull my eyes from the strong hold of his...
but those blue eyes forced me to say, "Chris, would you think it
terrible if you knew that Bart has fallen in love with Melodic?" ...;

hb lip twitched.

"Oh, that, I know Bart's beeft;

infatuated with her since the day she came here.  I've seen him
watching her.  One day I found the two of them in the back salon,
seated on the sofa.  He hadheic dress open and was kissing her breasts.
I walked away^ Cathy, if Melodic didn't want him, she'd slap his and
make him stop.  You may thinfc their affai^^ stealing Jory's wife when
he heeds her most, but|||| doesn't need a woman who doesn't love him
anyino||| Let him have her--what good cad she do JbrynowU
I^aredathim^w^toardis6eii^ ing Bart'.  Do you think it's fair what he's
done?"  '.^ "No, I don't think itis fair; Whenis life fair, CNJiH Was
it fair when Jory's back was broken, and nowf can't walk?  No, it's
notfsat.  I've been m medicineJEgB long not to know justice feri't
doted but equally.

"EBB

good often die before the bad.  Children die bcfi^B grandparents, and
who is to say that's right?  But ^f can we do about it?  Life is a
gift, and perhaps deatX^I another kind of gift.  Who am I, or you, to
say  Ao6(| what has happened between Bart and Melodic, stay close to
Jory.  Keep him happy until the day comes when he-can find another
wife."

Reeling from his words, I felt hazy and unreal.

"And the baby,whatof the baby?"

Now his voice turned hard.

"The baby is another matter.  He or she will belong to Jory, no matter
which brother Melodic chooses.  That child will help see Jory
through--for he may never be able to sire another."

"Chris, please.  Go to Bart and tell him to let Melodic go.  I cannot
stand the thought of Jory losing his wife at this point in his life."

He shook his head, telling me that Bart had never Hstenedto him, and it
wasn't likely he would now.  And already he'd spoken without my
knowledge to Melodic.

"Darling, face up to ^ fa^s.  In her heart Melodic doesn't want Jory
now.  She won't come put and say that, but behind every word she
doesn't say, behind aSi her excuses, is the plain fact that she just
does not want to stay married to a man who can walk.  In my way of
thinking it would be cruel to force her to stay, and even harder on
Jory in the long run.  If we do fry to force her to stay, sooner or
later she'd strike back at him for not being the man he was and I want
to spare him that.

Better to let her go before she hurts him even worse than by just
having an affair with Bart."

"Chris!"  I cried, shocked that he would think as he did.

"We can't tether do this to Jory!"

"Cathy, who are we to judge this matter?  Right or wrong, should we,
who are considered sinners by Bart, sit in judgment on him?"

In the morning Chris drove away after telling me he'd be back Friday
evening around six.  I watched from my bedroom window until his car was
out of sight.

How empty the days when Chris was away, how bleak the nights without'
his arms to hold me and his whispers to assure me everything would work
out fine I smiled and laughed for Jory, not wanting hhB to know that I
was suffering from the lack of having Chris in my bed every night. 
Jory slept atone, I told myself, and I could manage if he could.  I
knew that Melodic and Bart were still lovers; however, they were
discreet enough to try and hide that from me.  But I knew from the way
Joel glared at Jory's wife that he considered her a bitch.

Strange that he didn't glare at Bart, when he was just as guilty.  But
then men had a way of thinking what was right for the gander was wrong
for the goose, even pious religious ones like Joel.

We were two weeks into November, and our plans for Thanksgiving were
complete.  Our weather turned more severe and hurled blustery winds and
snow our way, stacking snow around our doors, freezing it over^ night
to ice so we couldn't leave the garage in one of our many cars.  One by
one our servants deserted until | there was only Trevor to prepare the
meals with my | off-and-on help.  I Cindy flew home and helped cheer
our hours with | her easy laughter, her winning ways that charmed i
everyone but Bart and Joel.  Even Melodic seemed a bit i happier.  Then
she took to her bed, to stay there all day!  | long, trying to keep
warm now that our electricity went | off so often, and that meant our
furnaces controlled by_|| electric thermostats refused to give out
beat.  We then'J| had to resort to our coal furnace auxiliary.  |
Freely Bart carried in the wood he wanted to bum in,| his office
fireplace and forgot the rest of us would enjoy || a fire.  , ..-^ Bart
was secreted away with Joel, whispering of the|| Christmas ball he
planned, so I had to carry in enough^ togs to build a fire in Jory's
room, where Cindy was|| playing a game with him.  He sat in his chair,
wrapper with an afghan, his shoulders covered with a J^et|| and smiled
at my futile attempts to set the kindunfl|| ablaze.

"Open the damper.  Mom, that always helps ^ Bttte."  , , .. . -- m How
had I forgotten that?  .|H Soon I had a fire going.  The bright glow
cheered i the room, which seemed so right in summer but not so right
in winter, just as Bart had predicted.  Now the dark paneling would
have made Jory feel cozier.

"Mom," Jory said, suddenly looking very cheerful, "I've been thinking
about something for days.  I'm a fool to act as I am.  You're
right--been right all along.

I'm not going to feel sorry for myself the minute I'm alone and no one
can see, as I've been doing since the accident.  I am going to accept
what can't be helped and make the most of a difficult situation.  Just
like you and Dad did when you were locked away, I'm going to turn my
idle moments into creative moments.  I'll have plenty of time to read
all the books I've never had time to read before, and I'm going to say
yes to Dad the next time he offers to teach me how to paint with
watercolors.

I'll go outdoors and try landscapes.  Perhaps I'll even venture into
oils, other mediums.  I want to thank you both for giving me the
incentive to go on.  I'm a lucky guy to have parents like you and
Dad."

Feeling proud enough to cry myself, I embraced him, congratulating him
for coming back to being his natural, enthusiastic self.

Cindy had set a bridge table for two, but Jory soon turned back to the
clipper ship he was determined to finish before Christmas.  He was
stringing the threadlike cords to the rigging, which was the last step
before a little touch-up painting here and there.

"I'm going to give this to someone very special Mom," he informed me.

"On Christmas day, one person in this house is going to have my first
difficult piece of handicraft."

"I bought it for you, Jory, to become an heirloom to pass down to your
children .. ."  I blanched when I heard myself say "children."

"It's all right.  Mom, for with this gift I am going to win back the
younger brother who loved me before that old man came and changed him.
He wants it badly; I see it in his eyes every time he comes in and
checks to see my progress.  Besides, I can always put together another
one for my child.  Right now I want to do something for Bart.  He
thinks none of us need him or like him.  I've never seen a man as
uncertain about himself .. . and that*s such a pity."

HoUdsyJoys

Thanksgiving Day came, and with it arrived Chris early in the morning.
Jory's nurse ate Thanksgiving dinner with us, keeping his lovesick eyes
glued on Cindy as if she had him under a spell.  She couldn't have
behaved more tike a lady, making me tremendously proud of her.  The
next day she eagerly accepted our invitation to go shopping in
Richmond.  Melodic shook her head.

"Sorry, I just don't feel up to it."

Chris, Cindy and I drove off with a clear conscience, knowing Bart had
flown to New York and wouldn't be with Melodic.  Jory's nurse had
promised to stay with fory until we returned.

Our three-day holiday in Richmond refreshed our;:

minds and souls, gave me the sense of being still:

beautiful and very much in love, and Cindy had the:4 time of her life
spending, and spending, and spending some more.

"You see," she said proudly, "I don't^ waste all the allowance you send
me on myself.  I savei to buy wonderful gifts for my family ... and
Momma," Daddy, you just wait until you see what I bought for you both.
And I certainly hope Jory likes his gift.  Ass;

for Bart, he can take what I give and like it or not."

"What about your Uncle Joel?"  I asked with curiosity.

Laughing, she hugged me.

"Wait until you see."

Hours later Chris turned onto the private road that

would wend its crooked way up to Fbxworth Hall.  In one of the boxes
that filled our trunk and rear seat of the car, I had an expensive
dress to wear to the Christmas ball I'd overheard Bart arranging with
the same caterers who'd taken care of his birthday party.  In her own
huge box, Cindy had chosen a spectacular dress, daring but at the same
time wonderfully appropriate.

"Thank you.  Momma, for not objecting," she'd whispered before she
kissed me.

Nothing unusual had occurred during our absence, except Jory had
finally completed the clipper ship.  It stood proud and exquisitely
finished down to the last detail, its tiny brass helm gleaming, its
sails full and bulging with invisible and unfelt high winds.

"Sugar stiffening," revealed Jory with a small laugh, "and it worked. I
took the sails and shaped them around a bottle like the instructions
read, and now our maiden voyage is well under way."  He was proud of
his work, smiling as Chris stepped over to admire his meticulous
craftmanship more closely.  Then we had to help him lift the ship into
astyrofoam form-fitting mold that would hold it securely until it
reached the hands of the new owner.

His beautiful eyes turned to me.

"Thanks for giving me something to do during all these long, boring
hours, Mom.  When I first saw it I was overwhelmed, thinking I'd never
be able to do something that appeared so difficult.  But I took one
step at a time, and now I feel I won over those hideously complicated
directions."

"That's the way all life's battles are won, Jory," said Chris as I
hugged Jory close.

"You don't look at the overall picture.  You take one step, then
another, and another ... until you arrive at your destination.  And!

must say, you did a magnificent job on this ship.  It's as
professionally made as any I've seen.  If Bart doesn't appreciate all
the effort you put into this, he'll really disappoint me."

Standing, Chris beamed at Jory.

"You're looking healthier, stronger.  And don't give up on' ors.  It
is a difficult medium, but I thought' enjoy it more than oils.  I think
one day you it be a fine artist."

Downstairs, Bart was on the phone direct official to take over a
failing business.  Then" talking to someone else about the
Christmas;!

was planning, a ball to make up for the trag * birthday party.  I stood
in his open doorwayl was a good thing that all he ordered did not < his
personal fund but from the Corrine Winslow Trust, which left Bart his
annual five i thousand as "pin" money to spend only on nil more than
irked Bart to be forced to confer wi each time he spent over the named
figure thousand.

Bart slammed down the receiver, glared (fl^ "Mother, do you have to
stand in the doorway!

eavesdrop?  Haven't I told you before to stay away.

me when Fm busy?"  ^ "When do I see you if I don't do this?"

"Why do you need to see me?"

"Why does any mother need to see her son?"

His dark eyes softened.

"You've got Jory and always seemed more than sufficient."

"No, you're wrong there.  If I had never had Jory would have been
sufficient.  But I did have and that makes you a vital part of my
life."

Uncertain looking, he stood up and strode to window, keeping his back
toward me.  His voice can to me deep and gruff, with a melancholy
sadness-4 "Remember when I used to keep Malcolm's journal^ stuffed
inside my shirt?  Malcolm wrote so much about :1 his mother, and how
much he loved her until she ran off with her lover and left him alone
with a father he didn't like.  Some of Malcolm's hate for her rubbed
off on me, I'm afraid.  Each time I see you and Chris head up those
stairs together, I feel the need to cleanse myself from the shame I
feel and you two don't.  So don't you start ^j to me about Metodie,
for what I do with her is ,|inful than what you do with Chris."  was no
doubt right, and that's what hurt worse ^anything.

^ore or less I grew unhappily accustomed to seeing risonly on the
weekends, although my heart ached 1 my bed felt huge and lonely without
him, and all (mornings alone were wistful, wishing I could hear ^
whistling as he shaved and showered, missing his serfulness, his
optimism.  When the weather kept him ay on the weekends, even then, I
grew used to that, Mow adaptable we humans were, how willing to suffer
^through any horror, any adjustment, any deprivations, just to gain
those few minutes of priceless joy.

To stand at the window and watch Chris drive up fitted me with
surprising youthful excitement so overwhelming it was as if I were
waiting for Barfs father to steal away from Foxworth Hall and meet me
in the cottage.  Certainly I didn't act as placidly accepting as when
I'd seen him every night, every morning.  The weekends were something
to be anticipated and dreamed about.  However, Chris was both more and
less to me--more a lover and less a husband.  I missed the brother
who'd been my other half, and loved the lover-husband who didn't remind
me as much of the brother I'd known.

There was no way and there were go words that could separate die two of
us now that I'd accepted him and taken mm as my husband, defying all
scorn aad society's moral rotes.

Still, my unconscious was trying peculiar tricks to give my conscious
relief.  With determination I was separating Chris toe man from Chris
the boy who'd been my brother.  An unconscious, unplanned game we both
began to play with some finesse.  We didn^ discuss it, we didn't have
to.  No longer did Chris call me "my lady Cath-er-inc."  No more did he
say teasingly, "Don't let the bedbugs bite."  All tee charms and
enchantments of those yesterdayswliien we Were i up, meant to keep
away evil spirits we tet go, at lasl,| the middle years of our
contentment."  ' He came home late one Friday night in Decemix stomping
his feet in the foyer as I lingered in ti shadows of the rotunda
watching him take ofi^l topcoat and hang it neatly in the guest closet
before 1 raced up the stairs two at a time, calling my namt stepped out
of the shadows and threw myself into eager arms.

"You're late again!"  I cried, "Who do;

see in your lab that sends shivers up and down spine?"

No one!  No one!  his passionate kisses assured.

The weekends were so short, so dreadfully short;!

I was spilling out all that troubled me, about foe!  i ha weird ways of
roaming about the house, scowling disapproval at everything I did.  I
told him ab Melodic and Bart, and fory, who was depressed a yearning
for Melodic, hating her indifference, lovit her even soy while I was
trying constantly to re ming Melodic of her responsibilities, which
hurt him eve more grievously than the loss of the use of his legs.

Chris lay beside me and listened to my long tirrwhh quiet impatience
before he said sleepily and bit i of patience, "Catherine, sometimes
you make dread coming home."  He rolled on his side away fri me.

"You spoil everything wonderful and sweet have between us with your
incessant, unpleasant, suspicious tales.  And most of all that troubles
you is in yourl imagination.  Haven't you always had too much of iW
Grow up, Catherine.  You are contaminating lory witM your suspicions as
weH.  Once you learn to expect only;

good from people then perhaps that's all you'll get."^ "I've heard your
philosophy before, Christopher,""F;

said with a flash of bitterness that shot through my;| brain like a
laser beam, bringing to mind his faith in our';

mother, and the good he'd expected from her by his[j devotion.  Cftro,
Chris, don't YOU ever team?  But I didn't say it, didn't dare to say
it.

^ There he was, middte*aged, even it 6e SffiSiBaEafijr glesenting me
with ms same old rosy-glow boyish jintimism.  Though 1 could ridicule
him verbally for this, teside I longed for his kind of redeeming faith
... for rt gave him peace, while I Hved day in and day out, l-inBeiing
from one foot to another on a hot frying pan.

'iy-S'0 .  . _ .:,"

!< Bart sat before the toaringfire, trying to concentrate E on The Wall
Street Journal as Jory and I wrapped Christmas gifts on a long table
we'd cleared of all | -. accessories.  AUofasudden it occurred to me as
I tied I fancy bows and cut foil paper to size, that since Cindy had
arrived, she'd drifted dreamlike throughout the house, lost in her own
world, so that she seemed almost not there.  Because of the peace this
brought, I had more or less forgotten her needs as I attended to
Jory's.

I hadn't been surprised when she wanted to go with Chris into
Charlottesville to finish up her shopping and see a movie before she
came back with him on Friday.

Chris had a one-bedroom apartment and planned to sleep Cindy on his
sofa bed.  , .

"Really, Momma, my special Christinas surprise will please you."  Only
when she was gone did I wonder what put that secret smile of pleasure
on her pretty face.  / ': : .,.;. - "- -.".."..-/ ^-' ^ :>.::1 As Jory
and I topped off all his presents with huge satin bows and name tags, 1
heard the banging of car- doors, the stomping feet on the portico, and
then the sound of Chris calling out.  It was only about two in the
afternoon as he strolled into our favorite sat on with Cindy at his
side--and, to my amazement, a strikingly handsome boy about eighteen
was with them.  1 already knew Cindy considered any boy less than two
years older too young for her.  The older and more experienced the
better was the way she liked to tease me.

"Mom," said Cindy happily, her face radiant, "here is the surprise you
said I could bring home."

Startled, I still managed a smile.  Cindy had not once;

said her "secret" surprise was a guest she'd invited Jory went back to
reading his book, seemingly del mined not to let anything Bart said or
did upset him.  1 the firelight his profile was classically perfect.
His dai hair curled softly around his face, turning up at tti collar of
his knit sports shirt.  Bart lounged in a businei suit, as if at any
moment he'd be up and away to at ten a corporation meeting.  That's
when Melodic drifted i wearing a shapeless gray garment that hung from
h< shoulders and bulged out as if she had a watennelo beneath.  Her
eyes went immediately to Bart, wh jumped up, turned his eyes away and
hastily he left th room, leaving behind him an uncomfortable silence.

"I met Cindy upstairs," said Melodic huskily, h foriom eyes avoiding
contact with Jory's.  She sat dow near the fire and stretched forth her
hands to wan them.

"Her boyfriend seems very pleasant and we bred, and also very
handsome."  She kept her eyes o the fire while Jory diligently tried to
force her to look i him.  His heart was in his eyes as he wistfully
gave u and turned back to his book, "It seems Cindy like dark-haired
men who look like her brothers," she wei on in a vague, distant way, as
if nothing mattered an she was only making an effort, for a change.

Angrily Jory jerked his eyes up.

"Met, can't you eve say hello to me?"  he asked hoarsely.

"Fm here, I'l alive.  I'm doing my best to survive.  Can't you say or d
something to tell me you remember that I'm you husband?"

Reluctantly turning her head his way, Melodie gav him a vague smile of
recognition.  Something in her eye said she didn't see him anymore as
the husband she'd s passionately loved and admired.  She saw only a
crippled man in a wheelchair and as he was now, he mad her uneasy and
embarrassed.

"ifeUo, Jory," she said dutifully.

Why didn't she get up and kiss him?  Why didn't sh see the pleading in
his eyes?  Why couldn't she make it effort, even if she didn't love him
anymore?  Slowl Jory's wan face reddened before he bowed his bead and
stared down at all the gifts he'd so beautifully wrapped.

I was about to say something cruel to Melodic when Cindy and Lance came
strolling back, both with starry eyes and flushed faces.  Bart wasn't
long in following them in.  He raked the room with his eyes, saw that
Melodic was still there and turned to leave again.

Instantly Melodic rose and quickly disappeared.  Bart must have seen
her leave, for shortly he returned and sat down and crossed his legs,
looking relieved now teat Melodie was gone.  The boyfriend spoke up,
looking at Bart and smiling widely, "I hear all this belongs to you Mr.
 Foxworth."

"CaB him Bart," ordered Cindy.

Bart frowned.

"Bart..."  began Lance hesitatingly, "truly this is a remarkable house.
Thank you for inviting me I glanced at Cindy, who stood her ground as
Bart threw her an angry took, even as Lance went on innocently, "Cindy
didn't show me your suite of rooms, or your office, but I hope you will
do that.  Someday I hope to own something like this .. . and I have a
passion for electronic gadgets, as Cindy tells me you have."

Instantly Bart was on his feet, seemingly proud to show off his
electronic equipment.

"Sure, if you want to see my rooms, and my office, FH be delighted to
show you.  But I'd rather Cindy didn't accompany us."

After a sumptuous dinner, which Trevor served, we conversed in the
music room with Jory and Bart Melodie was upstairs, already in bed.
Soon Bart said he had to rise early and he was going to bed.  Instantly
the conversation dwindled to nothing as we all stood and headed for the
stairs.  I showed Lance into a lovely room with its own connecting
bath.  It was in the eastern wing, not so for from Bart's own rooms,
while Cindy's was near my own.  Cindy smiled sweetly and kissed the
cheek of Lance Spalding.

"Good night, sweet prince," she whispered.

"Parting is such sweet-sweet sorrow,"

His arms folded over his chest, as Joel folded his, Bart stood back
and watched this tender scene with scorn.

"Let it be a true parting," he said meaningfully, looking directly at
Lance, then at Cindy, before he stalked off toward his rooms.

First I saw Cindy to her room and we exchanged a few words and our
regular good night kisses.  Then I paused outside Melodie's door,
wondering if 1 should rap and go in and try to reason with her.  I
sighed, knowing it wouldn't do any good, not when I'd tried so many
times before.  Next I was crossing over to Jory's room.

He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.  His dark blue eyes
rolled my way, shiny with unshed tears.

"It's been so long since Melodic came in to kiss me good night.  You
and Cindy always find the time to do that, but my wife ignores me as if
I don't exist for her.

There's no real reason now why I couldn't sleep in a larger bed, and
she could sleep beside me, but she wouldn't even if 1 asked.  Now I've
finished the clipper ship, and I don't know what to begin next to
occupy my time.  I really don't want to start another ship for our
child.  I feel so unfulfilled, so at odds with life, with myself, and
most of all, with my wife.  I want to turn to my wife, but she turns
from me.  Mom ... without you.  Dad and Cindy, I wouldn't know how to
live through the days."

1 held him in my arms, ran my fingers through his hair as I had when he
was a little boy.  I said all the things that should have come from
Melodic.  1 pitied her, disliked her for being weak, hated her for not
loving enough, for not knowing how to give even when it hurt.

"Good night, my sweet prince," I said from Jory's doorway.

"Hold tight to your dreams, don't abandon them now, for life offers
many chances at happiness, Jory.  If s not all over for you."

He smiled, said good night, and I headed for the southern-wing suke I
shared with Chris.

All of a sudden Joel was in front of me, blocking my passage.  He wore
a shabby old bathrobe of some faded color that seemed more gray than
anything else.  His thin, pale hair stood up in small peaks like horns,
while the long end of his corded sash trailed behind him like a limp
tail.

"Catherine," he said sharply, "do you realize what that giri is doing
this very minute?"

"That giri?  What girl?"  I answered just as sharply.

"You know who I mean, that daughter of yours.

Right now, at this moment, she is entertaining that young man she
brought home with her."

"Entertaining?  What do you mean

His smile came crooked and mean.

"Why, if anyone should know, it should be you.  She's got that boy in
her bed."

"I don't believe you!"

"Then go and see for yourself!"  he answered quickly, with some
delight.

"You never believe anything I say.  I was in the back hall and just
happened to see this boy stealing down the halls, and I followed.
Before he reached Cindy's door, she had it open and was welcoming him
inside."

"I don't believe you," I said again, more weakly this time.  :' ':"' '
"Are you afraid to check and find out I might be telling the truth?
Would that convince you then that I am not the enemy you presume me to
be?"

I didn't know what to say or think.  Cindy had promised to behave
herself.  She was innocent, I knew she was.  She'd been so perfect,
helping with Jory, resisting her natural tendency to argue with Bart.
Joel had to be lying.  Spinning about, I headed toward Cindy's room
with Joel close at my heels.

"You are lying about her, Joel, and I intend to prove that to you I
said as I almost ran.

Just outside her door I paused and listened, hearing nothing at all.  I
lifted my hand to knock.

"No!"  hissed Joel.

"Don't give them any warning if you want to know the ftiU truth.  Just
throw open the door and;

inside the room and see for yourself."

I paused, not wanting to even think he could possit be right.  And I
didn't want Joel to tell me what to do.3 glared at him before I knocked
sharply just once- waited a few seconds, then threw open Cindy's beat
room door and stepped inside her room, which was lit by moonlight
flooding in through her windows.  f Two totally naked bodies were
entwined on Cindy's virgin bed!

I stared, shocked, feeling a scream in my throat thaiS just stayed
there.  Before my amazed eyes Lance Spald1 ing sprawled over my
sixteen-year-old daughter, jerking spasmodically.  Cindy's hands
clutched at his but| tocks, her long red fingernails digging in, her
head" rolling from side to side as she moaned with pleasure, telling me
this was not their first time.  1 What should I do now?  Close the door
and say nothing?  Fly into a towering rage and drive Lance out of our
home?  Helplessly caught in a web of indecision I stood there as only
seconds must have passed, until I heard a faint noise behind me.

Another gasped.  I whirled around to see Bart, who was staring at
Cindy, who'd rolled on top of Lance and was lustily riding him, crying
out four-letter word vulgarities in between her moans of ecstasy,
entirely unaware of anything but what she was doing and what was being
done to her.

Bart had no indecision.

He strode directly to the bed and caught hold of Cindy around the
waist.  With a mighty heave he tore her off die boy, who seemed
helpless in his nakedness and the bliss of what had been going on. Bart
ruthlessly buried Cindy to the floor.  She screamed as she fell face
downward on the carpet.

Bart didn't hear.

He was too busy handling the youth.  Again and again Us fists stemmed
into Lance's handsome face.  I heard the crack of his nose as blood
spurted everywhere.

"NOT UNDER MY ROOF!"  he roared, repeatedly battering Lance's face.

"NO SINNING UNDER MY

ROOF!"  .

A moment ago I felt like doing the same thing.  Now Iran to save the
boy.

"Bart, STOP!  YOU'LL KILL

HIM!"

Cindy kept screaming hysterically even as she tried to cover her nudity
with the clothes she'd dropped on the floor.  They were all mixed up
with Lance's discarded garments.  Joel was now in the room, raking his
eyes scornfully over Cindy; then he was turning to smile at me with
gloating satisfaction that said over and over again: See, I told you
so.  Like mother, like daughter.

"See what you've raised with your pampering?"  Joel intoned, as if
behind a pulpit.

"It was evident from the first time I saw her that that girl was
nothing but a harlot under the roof of my father's house."

"You fool!"  I stormed.

"Who are you to condemn anyone?"

"You arc the fool, Catherine.  Just like your mother, in more than one
way.  She, too, wanted every man she saw, even her own half uncle.  She
was like this naked girl crawling lewdly around on the floor--ready to
bed down with anything in pants."

Unexpectedly Bart dropped Lance on the bed and hurled himself at
Joel.

"Stop it!  Don't you dare tell my mother she's like her mother!  She
isn't, she isn't!"

"You'll see it my way eventually, Bart," said Joel in his softest, most
sanctimonious tone.

"Corrine got what she deserved.  Just as your mother will get hers one
day.  And if justice and right still rule in this world, and God is in
his Heaven, that indecent, naked girl on the floor trying to cover
herself will meet her end in fiery flames, as she deserves."

"Don't you say anything like that again!"  bellowed Bart, so furious
with Joel he forgot all about Cindy and Lance, who were both hastily
pulling on the nightctothes they'd abandoned.  He hesitated, as if sti
to find himself defending the girl he incessantly ( was his sister.

"This is my life.  Uncle," he said sten "and my family more than it is
yours.  I will deal what justice is demanded, and not you."

Seemingly very distressed and shaken, shuffl lamely like an older man,
Joel ambled off down l hall, bent over almost double.

The moment Joel was out of sight, Bart turned furious temper on me.

"YOU SEE!"  he roared.

"Cin has just proven what I suspected she was all aloi She's no good.
Mother' NO GOOD!  All the time i played the game of being sweet, she
was planning hi she'd enjoy herself when Lance came.  I want her out of
| this house and out of my life forever!"

"Bart, you can't send Cindy away she's my dai ter!  If you have to
punish someone more than have, send Lance away.  You're right, of
course, Ci shouldn't have done what she did, nor should Lance have
taken advantage of our hospitality."

Somewhat mollified, he managed to simmer down a little.

"All right, Cindy can stay since you insist on loving her no matter
what.  But that boy is going tonight!"  He yelled at Lance, "Hurry and
pack your things for in five minutes I'm driving you to the airport.  K
you ever dare touch Cindy again, I'll break the rest of your bones! And
don't think I won't know.  I have friends in South Carolina, too!"

Lance Spalding was very pale as he hurried to throw his clothes back
into suitcases he'd Just emptied.  He couldn't even took at me as he
hurried by and whispered huskily, "I'm sorry and so ashamed, Mrs.

Sheffield ..."  and then he was gone, with Bart right behind hhn,
shoving him on foster from time totime.

Now I turned to Cindy, who had donned a very modest granny gown and was
huddled under the covers of her bed, staring at me wide-eyed and scared
looking.

"I hope you are satisfied, Cindy," I said coldly.

"You have truly disappointed me.  I expected more from you you
promised me.  Don't your promises mean anything at all?"

"Momma, please," she sobbed.

"I love him, and I wanted him, and I think I waited long enough.  It
was my Christmas gift to him--and to myself."

"Don't lie to me, Cynthia!  Tonight wasn't your first time with him.
I'm not as stupid as you presume 1 am.

You and Lance have been lovers before."

She wailed loudly, "Momma, aren't you going to love me anymore?  You
can't just turn it off, 'cause if Sou do, then I'll want to die!  I
don't have any parents ut you and Daddy ... and I swear it won't happen
again.  Please forgive me, please!"

"I'll think about it," I said coldly as I closed her door.

The next morning as 1 dressed, Cindy came running into my room, crying
out hysterically, "Momma, please don't let Bart force me to leave, too.
I've never had a happy Christmas when Bart was around.  I hate him!

Really hate him!  He's ruined Lance's face, ruined it."

More than likely she was right.  I had to teach Bart how to hold back
his rage.  How terrible for such a good-looking boy to have his
beautiful nose broken, to say nothing of his black eyes and many cuts
and bruises.

However, after Lance was gone, something peculiar laid a ghostly hand
on Bart and turned him very quiet.

Lines T hadn't seen before etched from his nose to his beautifully
shaped lips, and he was too young for face lines.  He refused to look
or talk to Cindy.  He treated me as if I weren't there, either.  He sat
sullen and quiet, staring at me, then rested his dark eyes fleetingly
on Cindy, who was weeping, and I couldn't remember another time when
Cindy had allowed any of us to see her cry.

Through my mind flitted all kinds of dreary thoughts.

The place where owls and foxes resided, remembering the Bible we used
to have to study every day.  Where could understanding be found?  There
was a time for planting, a time for reaping, a time to gather in where
was our time for )0y?

Hadn't we waited long enough?

Later that morning I had a talk with Cindy.

"Cindy, 1 am shocked at your behavior.  Bart had every right be
enraged, even though I disapprove of the way was so rough on that boy.
I can understand his actioi but not yours.  Any young man would have
enter your room when you willingly opened your door a invited him in.
Cindy, you have to promise not to i anything like that again.  Once you
are eighteen, y become your own boss but until that day, and whili you
are under this roof, you will not play sex game with anyone here or
anywhere else.  Do yon under^ stand?"  | Her blue eyes widened, took on
the shine of forth coming tears.

"Momma, I don't live in the eighteenth century!  All the giris are
doing it!  I held out much longer than most do, and from all I've heard
about you ... you went after men, too."

"Cindy!"  I snapped sharply.

"Don't you ever throw my past or present in my face!  You don't know
what I had to endure while you have had nothing but happy days full of
everything that was denied me."

"Happy days?"  she asked bitterly.

"Have you forgot ten all the nasty, mean things Bart did to me?  Maybe
I wasn't locked up, starved or beaten, but I've had my problems, and
don't think I haven't.  Bart makes me feel so unsure about my
femininity that I have to test all the boys I meet...1 just can't help
it."

We were at that time in her bedroom, while Bart was downstairs.

I stepped forward to take Cindy into my arms.

"Don't cry, darling.  I do understand how you must feel.  But you must
try to understand how parents feel about their daughters.  Your father
and I want only the best for you.  We don't want you to be hurt.  Let
this experience with Lance teach you a lesson, and hold  back until
you are eighteen and able to reason with more maturity.  Hold out
longer than that if you can.

When you grab at sex too soon, it has a way of biting back and giving
you exactly what you don't want.  It did that to me, and I've heard you
say a thousand times you want a stage and film career, and husbands and
babies have to wait.  Many a girl has been thwarted by a baby that
started because of uncontrollable passion.  Be careful before
committing yourself to anyone.  Don't fall in love too soon, for when
you do you make yourself vulnerable to so many unforeseen events.  Give
romance a try without sex, Cindy, and save yourself all the pain of
giving too much too soon."

Her arms were tight about me, her eyes turned soft and told me we were
again mother and daughter.

Later Cindy and I stood side by side downstairs, watching everything
whiten with snow, grow misty with distance, cruelly isolating us even
more from the rest of the world.

"Now all roads from Charlottesville will be blocked," I said tonelessly
to Cindy.

"What's more, Melodie is acting so strangely she makes me fear for the
good health of her child.  Jory's staying in his room as if he doesn't
want to encounter her, or any of us.  Bart saunters around like he owns
all of us as well as the house.  Oh, I wish Chris were here.  I hate it
when he's gone."

I turned to find Qndy staring at me with a kind of wonderment.  She
flushed when she met my eyes.  When I asked why, she murmured, "I just
wonder sometimes how the two of you hang on to what you have, when I
fall in and out of love so often.  Momma, someday you've got to tell me
how to make a man really love me, and not just my body.  I wish boys
would look first into my eyes like Daddy looks into yours I wish they'd
look at my face at least once in a while, for it's not an ugly face,
but they a8 stare at my boobs.  I wish their eyes would follow me
around like Jory's follow Melodie .. ."

Cindy put her arm around me and buried her jGi against my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry.  Momma, really sorry I caused all that trouble last
night.  Thank you;

not scolding me more than you did.  I've been thinkifl about what you
said, and you're right.  Lance has paf heavy price, and I should have
known better."  Re;

ingly she gazed into my eyes.

"Momma, I was se rio all the girls at school started way back when they
wi eleven, twelve and thirteen, and I love Lance.  And held back,
although all the boys chased after me nunj than they did the others.
The girls thought I was dof it when I wasn't.  I pretended to be really
with it, hf then one day I heard some boys comparing notes alU they
were all saying they hadn't scored all the way wif me.  They talked as
if I were some kind of freak <f maybe a lesbian.  That's when I decided
I'd let Lanca have his way this Christmas.  The special gift I had f
him."

I stared at her hard, wondering if she told all t truth, as she went on
to tell me she was the only girl her group to hold out until sixteen,
and that was really old for a girl in today's world.

"Please don't I ashamed, for if you are, then I'll be.  I've wanted to
c it since I was twelve but held back because of what ye said.  But
you've got to understand that what I did wi) Lance wasn't casual.  I
love him.  And for a whil before you and Bart came in ... it felt...
felt..  .

good."

What could I say now?

I had my own willful youth clearly tucked in a'| memory closet, ready
to jump forward and put the' vision of Paul before me ... and the way
I'd wanted ] him to teach me all the ways of love, especially when;

my first experience with sex had been so devastating," filling me with
the kind of guilt that even now I could cry to look up at the moon that
had seen Chris's sin, and mine.

About six Chris called to say he'd been trying to each me all day but
the lines had been down.

"You'll be seeing me Christmas Eve," he said cheerfully.

"I've lured a snowplow to precede me to the Hall, and I'll be right
behind.  How are things going?"

"Fine, just fine," I lied, telling him Lance's father had fallen down
the stairs and he had to fly home immediately.  Then Irattled on and
on, saying we were all set for Christmas, gifts wrapped, tree up, but
Melodic was, as usual, clinging to her rooms as if they offered her the
only sanctuary in the world.

"Cathy," said Chris in a tight voice, "how nice it would be if you'd
only level with me on occasion.  Lance didn't fly home.  All the planes
are grounded.  Lance is, at this moment, not ten feet away from this
very phone booth.  He came to me and confessed everything.  I took care
of his broken nose, his other wounds, and cursed Bart all the time.
That boy is a mess.^' Early the next morning, we heard on the radio
that all roads to the village and the nearest city were snowed under.
Travelers were warned to stay home.  We kept the radio on all day,
listening to the weathermen who seemed to control our lives.

"Never before has there been a winter more dramatic than this one,"
went the singsong male voice, extolling the virtues of weather.

"Records are being broken ..."

Hour by miserable hour Cindy and I stood at the windows, with Jory
often joining us to stare as we did at the snow coming down with
relentless determination to isolate us.

Behind my eyes I saw the four of us, locked in that room, whispering
about Santa Qaus and telling the twins that surely he would find us.
Chris had written him a letter.  Oh, the pity of those little twins
waking up on Christmas morning, not even remembering the good times
that had gone on before.  , Hearing Jory cough brought me back to the
present.

Every few minutes Jory suffered through paroxysms of racking coughs.  I
glanced at him fearfully.

Soon he was heading his chair for his room, saying 1 could put himself
back into bed.  I wanted to go wit him but knew he wanted to do all he
could for himself "I'm beginning to hate this place," grumbled Cinds
"Now Jory's got a cold.  That's why I brought Lan home with me, knowing
it would be this.  I was hopir every night we'd have a party, and being
slightly drur would take away the pall of living under the shadows <
Bart and that creepy old Joel.  I was expecting Lance l keep me happy
while I was here.  Now I've got no c but you.  Momma.  Jory seems so
aloof and alone, a he thinks I'm too young to understand his probleii
Melodic never says anything to me, or anybody.  B stalks around like
the grim reaper and that old mi sends shivers up my spine. We don't
have any friend No one ever calls unexpectedly.  We're all alone,
gettii on each other's nerves.  And it's Christmas.  I'm look' forward
to that ball Bart says he's throwing.  At k that would give me the
chance to meet some people i brush off the moss I feel creeping up my
legs."

Suddenly Bart was there, yelling at Cindy.

"Yo don't have to stay.  You're just the bastard my mother!

had to have."

Cindy blushed deeply red.

"Are you trying to hurt me again, jerk?  You can't hurt me now!  I'm
through with that!"

"Don't you ever call me jerk again, bastard!"

"CREEP, JERK, CREEP, JERK!"  she taunted, backing up and dodging behind
chairs and tables, deliberately baiting him to give chase, and in this
way, give her dull day a bit of excitement.

"Cindy!"  I stormed, furious now.

"How dare you | talk to Bart that way?  Now, say you're sorry ...
say;

it!"  ' "No, I won't say it, for I'm not sorry!"  she yelled not at me
but at Bart.

"He's a brute, a maniac, a crazy, and he's trying to drive us all as
batty as he is!"

"STOP!"  I yelled, seeing Bart's face go very pale.

Then he lunged forward and caught her by her hair.

She tried to run, but he had her held too securely.  I rushed forward
to prevent him from striking her by clinging onto his free arm.  Above
her he towered.

"If you ever so much as speak to me again, little girl, you'll rue the
day.  You're very proud of your body, of your hair, of your face.  One
more insult and you'll hide in closets and break all the mirrors."

His deadly tone of voice said he was serious.  I moved to help Cindy
stand.

"Bart, you don't mean that.  All your life you've tormented Cindy.  Can
you blame her for wanting her revenge?"

"You take her side, after what she said to me?"

"Say you're sorry, Cindy," I pleaded, turning to her.

Then I turned appealing eyes on Bart.

"You say it, too, please."

Indecision flashed in Bart's fiery dark eyes as he saw how upset I was,
but it vanished the moment Cindy screamed out, "NO!  I'm not sorry! And
I'm not afraid of him!  You're just as creepy and senile as that old
jerk who wanders around muttering to himself.  Boy, do you have a thing
for old men!  Maybe that's your hang-up, brother!"

"Cindy!"  I whispered, very much shocked, "apologize to Bart."

"Never, never, NEVER!--not after what he did to Lancet" The anger on
Bart's face frightened me.

Just then Joel ambled into the room.  He stood with his long arms
crossed over his chest and met Bart's fiery eyes.

"Son ... let it go.  The Lord sees and hears all and, in time, wreaks
his own justice.  She's a child like a bird chirping in the trees, led
by instincts that know nothing of morality.  She acts, speaks, moves,
all without thinking.  She's nothing compared to you Bart.

Nothing but a hank of hair, a bone and a rag--you ace born to lead."

As if transfixed, Bart's anger simmered down.  He followed Joel from
the room without looking our w To see Bart follow that old man so
obediently i without question filled my head with fresh fears.  H had
Joel gained such control?

Cindy fell into my arms and began to cry.

"Momnjfl what's wrong with me, with Bart?  Why do I say sq hateful
things to hurt him?  Why does he say tbemg me?  I want to hurt Bart.  I
want to pay him bade f every ugly thing he's done to hurt meIn my arms
she sobbed out her anxieties until she s limp..

In many ways Cindy reminded me of myself, so ca^_ to love and be loved,
to live a full, exciting life evf before she was mature enough to
accept the emotioriji responsibilities, f I sighed and held her closer.
Someday, somehow, r family problems would be resolved.  I held to th^
belief, praying that Chris would come home soon.

Christmas

As it had in the past, Christmas Eve arrived with charm and festive
peace to reign over troubled spiritflJ and gave even Fbxworth Hall its
own beauty.  The snov still fell, but it was not so wild and wind
driven.  Inou favorite room for getting together, Bart and Cindy with
Jory directing, were decorating the gigantic Christmas tree.  Cindy was
up on a ladder on one side, Bart was on the second ladder, as Jory sat
in his wheelchair, fiddling with strings of lights meant for our door
wreaths.  Decorators were working in other rooms to maks them festive
enough for the hundreds of guests Bart expected to entertain at the
ball.  He was terribly orated.  To see him happy and laughing added joy
to my

heart, especially when Chris came in the door loaded down with all
he'd purchased at the last moment, as was his customary procrastinating
way.

Iran to greet him with hungry arms and eager kisses that Bart couldn't
see from his position behind the tree.

"Whatever took you so long?"  I asked, and he laughed, indicating the
beautifully wrapped gifts.

"Out in the car I've got more," he said with a happy smile.

"I know what you're thinking, that I should do my shopping earlier, but
I never seem to mid the time.

Then all of a sudden it's Christmas Eve, and I end up paying twice as
much, but you're going to be very pleased and if you're not, don't tell
me."

" Melodic was crouched down on a low stool near the fireplace in the
salon just off the foyer, looking miserable  In (act, when I studied
her more closely she appeared to be in pain.

"Are you all right.  Melodic?"  I asked.  She nodded to say she was
fine, and I foolishly took her word for that.  When Chris questioned
her, she stood and denied anything was wrong.  She threw Bart an
imploring glance he didn't see, and then she was heading for the back
stairs.  In her shapeless, dull colored garment, she seemed a drab
thing that had aged ten years since July.  Jory, who always kept a
close eye on Melodic, turned to watch her drift away, a terrible
haunted sadness in his eyes that stole his pleasure from the happy
occupation at hand. The string of lights slid from his lap to entangle
the wheels of his chair.  He didn't notice, only sat with clenched
fists, as if he'd like to smash Fate in the face for taking away the
use of his marvelous body, and in so doing stealing from him the woman
he.  loved.

On die way to the stairs, Chris stopped to clap Jory heartily on the
back.

"You're looking fit and healthy.

And don't worry about Melodic.  It's normal for a woman in the last
trimester to become irritable and moody.  So would you if you were
carrying around all that extra weight."

"She could at least speak to me occasionally," com-j plained Jory, "or
look at me.  She doesn't even cozy up| to Bart anymore."  | I looked at
him with alarm.  Could he know that only a short while ago Bart and
Melodie had been lovers?  I| didn't believe they were anymore, and that
was the true' explanation of Melodie's miserable state.  I tried to
ready his eyes, but be lowered his lids and pretended to be interested
in decorating the tree again.  | Long ago Chris and I bad established a
tradition of opening at least one gift on Christmas Eve.  When night!

came, Chris and I sat alone in the best of our down stairs salons,
toasting one another with champagne.  We lifted our glasses high.

"To all our tomorrows together," he said with his warm eyes full of
love and;

happiness.  I repeated the same words before Chris' handed me my
"special" gift.  I opened the small jewelry box to find a two-carat
pear-shaped diamond suspended on a fine gold chain.

"Now, don't object and say you don't like jewelry," Chris said hastily
when I just stared at the object that glittered and refracted rainbow
colors.

"Our mother never wore anything like this.  I really wanted to buy you
opera-length pearls like the ones she used to wear, because I think
they are both elegant and understated.

But knowing you, I forgot the pearls and settled for this beautiful
diamond.  It's tear-shaped, Cathy for all the tears I would have cried
inside if you had never let me love you."

The way he said that put tears in my eyes and swelled my heart with the
guilty sadness of being us, the special joy of being us; the
complications of being us some times were just too overwhelming.
Silently I handed him my "special" gift a fine star-sapphire ring to6t
his forefinger.  He laughed, saying it was ostentatious but
beautiful.

No sooner were those words out of his mouth than Jory, Melodie and Bart
joined us.  Jory smiled to see the glow in our eyes.  Bart frowned.
Melodie sank into a deep-cushioned chair and seemed to disappear in
the depths.  Cindy came running in with belts that she shook merrily,
her pants and sweater bright red.  Finally Joel slunk into the room to
stand in a corner with his arms folded over his chest, casting his own
pall, like a somber judge overseeing wicked and dangerous children.

It was Jory who first responded to Cindy's charm by raising his glass
of champagne high and toasting.

"Hail to the joys of Christmas Eve!  May my mother and father always
look at one another as they do this night, with love and tenderness,
with compassion and understanding.

May I find that kind of love in the eyes of my wife again .. . soon."

He was directly challenging Melodic and in front of all of us.  Sadly,
his timing was bad for this kind of confrontation.  She drew herself
into a tighter knot and refused to meet his eyes; instead, she leaned
forward to stare more intensely into the fire.  Thehope in Jory'$ eyes
faded.  His shoulders sagged before he swiveled his chair so that he
couldn't see her.  He put down his champagne and fixed his eyes on the
fire just as intensely as his wife, as if to read what symbolism she
was seeing.  In a distant dim corner, Joel smiled.

Cindy tried to force gaiety.  Bart, by attrition, gave in to the
corroding gloominess that Melodic emitted like a gray fog.  Truly our
little family get-together in a gloriously festive room was a flop.
Bart refused even to look at Melodic now that she was so grossly out of
shape.

Soon he was pacing the room restlessly, glancing at all the gifts under
the "family" tree.  His eyes accidentally found Melodic staring at him
hopefully, and only too quickly he looked away, as if embarrassed by
her too overt pleading.  In a few minutes Melodic excused herself,
saying in a low voice that she didn't feel well.

"Anything I can do?"  Chris asked immediately, jumping up to assist her
up the stairs.  She plodded along heavily, flat footed.

"I'm all right," she snapped near one newel post.

"I don't need your help anyone's!"

"And a merry Christmas was had by all," intc Bart, much in the manner
of Joel, who still stood in shadows, watching, always watching.

The moment Melodic was gone from the room" slumped forward in his chair
before he stated, too, he was tired and not feeling too well.  His next
] longed bout of coughing revealed that.

"I've got the medicine you need," said Chris, jumping up heading for
the stairs.

"You can't fp to bed yet, Jl Stay a while longer.  We have to
celebrate.  Befoi dose you with something that might not be appropri I
need to listen to your lungs."

Bart leaned casually against the mantel, watcl this caring scene
between Jory and Chris as ifjealou their relationship.  Chris came to
me.

"Perhaps i better if we retire now, so we can be up at dawn to
breakfast, open our presents, and then have n before we start getting
ready for the ball to mon night."

"Oh, glory hallelujah!"  cried Cindy, whirling aroi the room in a small
dance.

"People, hordes of peo( all dressed in their best I can hardly wait for
torn row night!  Laughter, how I long to hear it.  Jokes s small talk,
how my ears crave that.  I'm so tired of be serious, looking at grim
faces that don't know how smile, hearing sad talk.  I hope all those
old fuddy-di bring along their college-aged sons or any son as k as
he's over twelve.  I'm that desperate!"

Bart wasn't the only one of us to throw her disproving looks, which
Cindy ignored.

"I'm gonna dar all nighU'm gonna dance all night," she sang, whir ii
around by herself, pretending to have a partner, refi ing to let her
anticipations be diminished by anythi anyone of us could say.

"And then I'll dance soi more..."

Despite himself, Chris and Jory were charmed wi her actions, her
bright, happy song.  Chris smiled before be said, "There should be at
least twenty young men here tomorrow night.  Just try to contain
yourself.  Now, since Jory looks so beat, let's head for bed.  Tomorrow
will be a long day."

It seemed a good idea.

All of a sudden, falling into a chair, Cindy sagged as limp as Melodic
had, looking sad and near tears.

"I

wish Lance could have stayed.  I'd rather have him than any other."

Bart threw her a furious look.

"That particular young man will never enter this house again."  He
turned to me next.

"We don't need Melodic at the party," he went on with determination and
continued anger, "not when she's acting so miserable and sick.

Let her sulk in her room tomorrow morning so we can enjoy opening our
gifts.  I think afternoon naps are a good idea, so tomorrow night we'll
look fresh from plenty of rest and bright and happy for my party."

Jory had gone on ahead, entering the elevator by himself, as if to
prove his independence.  The rest of us seemed reluctant to part.  As I
sat there hearing the Christmas carols that Bart had put on the stereo
to play, I thought of all his newly acquired fastidious habits.

As a boy he'd loved being not just dirty, but filthy.

Now he took several showers a day, kept himself immaculately groomed.
He couldn't retire until he'd checked over "his house" from top to
bottom, seeing that the doors were locked, the windows, too, and that
the new kitten Trcvor had as his pet hadn't stained a carpet.  (Trevor
had been fired a dozen times by Bart, but still he stayed on, and Bart
didn't insist that he go.) Even as I watched, Bart got up to fluff the
throw pillows, smoothed wrinkles out of downy sofa cushions, picked up
magazines and arranged them in neat piles.

All the things the servants forgot to do, he did.  Then he'd jump on
Trevor in the morning and order the maids to do better--or out they'd
go without sever an pay.  No wonder we couldn't keep servants.  Of
Trevor remained loyal, ignoring the rudeness of Ba whom he looked at
with pity, although Bart did know that.

All this was on my mind as 1 took note of Bar S enthusiasm for tomorrow
night's party.

toward the windows and saw the snow was s and already two feet of snow
were on t ground.

"Bart .. . the roads are going to be icy tom row night, perhaps dosed,
and many of your gue ought not be able to make it here for the
traditiol RKWOrthbaB."

"Nonsense!  I'll fly them in if they can to cancel.

helicopter could land on the lawn."

I sighed, for some reason made uneasy by t strangely malicious look of
Joel, who chose that time leave the room.

"Your mother is right, Bart," said Chris kindly," don't feel
disappointed if only a few are able to sh< up.  I had a devil of a time
reaching here a few hoi ago, and it's snowing harder now."

It was as if Chris hadn't said a word.  Bart bade i good night, then
strode toward the stairs.  Shor afterward, Chris, Cindy and I ascended
the stairs.

White Chris went in to say a few words to Jory waited for Cindy to come
from her bath.  Anott shower (at least two a day with shampoos) brought
h fresh and bright from the bath, wearing the brief little red
nightie.

"Momma, don't you lecture me again I just can't take any more.  When 1
first came to tl house, 1 thought it like a fairy tale palace.  Now I
thi of it as a gloomy fortress to keep us all prisoners, j ooo as this
ball is over, I'm leaving--and to bell wi Barti I love you and Daddy
and Jory, but Melodic t turned into a boring pain in the neck and Bart
w never change.  He'll always hate me, so I'm going slop even trying to
be nice to him."

She slipped between the sheets, pulled the covers high, turned on her
side away from me.

"Oood night, Momma.  Please turn out the light when you leave.

Don't ask me to behave myself tomorrow night, for I intend to be the
model of ladylike decorum.  Wake me three hours before the ball
begins."

"In other words, you don't even want to share Christmas morning with
us?"

"Oh," she said indifferently, "I guess I can wake up long enough to
open my gifts .. . and watch the rest of you open yours.  Then back to
bed so I can be the belle of the ball tomorrow night."

"I love you, Cindy," I said as I switched off her lamp, and then bent
to lift her hair and kiss the warm nape of her neck.

Ripping over, her slim young arms tightened around my neck as she
sobbed, "Oh, Momma, you're the best!

I promise to be good from now on.  I won't let any boy so much as hold
my band.  But let me escape this house and fly to New York and attend
that New Year's party my best friend is throwing in a grand hotel
ballroom."

Silently I nodded.

"All right.  If you want to enjoy yourself at the home of your friend,
that's fine, but please do your best not to rile Bart tomorrow.  You
know his problem, and he has worked hard to over come all those
disturbing ideas planted in his head when he was very young.  Help him,
Cindy.  Let him realize he has a family backing him up."

"I will.  Momma, I promise I will."

I closed the door and was soon saying good night to Jory.  He was
unusually quiet.

"It's going to be all right, darling.  Just as soon as the baby is
here.  Melodic will see you again."

"Will she?"  he asked bitterly.

"I doubt it.  She'll have the baby then to occupy her time and
thoughts.  She'll need me even less than she does now."

Half an hour later, Chris opened his arms to me, and eagerly I
surrendered to the only love in my LIFE that had tested long enough to
let me know I had a firm | on happiness ... despite everything that
could ' ruined what we had cultivated and grown in the sh

The morning light crept eerily into my room, bing me out of sleep even
before the alarm sound Quickly I was Up and staring out the windows.

snow had stopped.  Thank God for that; Bart would pleased.  I hurried
back to the bed to kiss Chris awa "Merry Christmas, darling Doctor
Christopher St.  field," I whispered in his ear.

"I'd rather you call me just darling," he mumble!

he came awake and looked around in a disorier way.

Determined that this day was going to be success I tugged him out of
bed, and soon we were both dres and heading for the breakfast room.  ^
For two days men and women had been coming | the house, repeating what
had been done in the sui mer, only this time the entire downstairs had
be| transformed into a Christmas fantasy.  | I watched with a certain
indifference as the worfcel torn the caterer Bart had hired finally
finished maki our home look like a wonderland.  Cindy stood at i side
watching all they did to turn the rooms in extraordinarily festive
rooms, full of color, candh wreaths, garlands, a towering Christmas
tree that 01 did our family tree by ten feet.  i AH she saw soon had
Cindy convinced she didn| want to spend the better part of her day in
bed.  Sh| forgot Lance and loneliness, for Christmas Day worker better
magic than Christmas Eve.  | "Look at that pie.  Momma!  It's huge.
Four aai twenty blackbirds baked in a pie," she sang, all of s sudden
glowing with life.

"Sorry I've acted ugly.  I'vl been thinking, there'll be boys here
tonight, and lots o| handsome rich men.  Oh, maybe this house can givd
more than misery after all."  | "Of course it can," Bart said as he
came in to stand between us, his eyes shining as be surveyed all that
had been done.  He seemed thrilled by his expectations.

"You just be sure and wear a decent dress, and don't do anything
outrageous."  Then he was following the workmen and giving directions,
laughing often, even including Jory, Cindy, Melodic and me, as if all
were forgiven now that it was Christmas.

Day after day, like some dark, gloomy shadow, Joe!

had trailed behind Bart, his old voice cracking as he intoned words
from the Bible.  He said again this morning, fully dressed at
six-thirty, "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle
than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God..."

"What the hell are you trying to say, old man?"

shouted Bart.

Momentarily Joel's watery eyes flared with anger, like a spark ready to
ignite from a brisk, unexpected wind.

"You're throwing away thousands of dollars hoping to impress
someone--and no one will be impressed, for the others have money, too.
Some live in finer homes.

Fbxworth Hall was the best of its kind in its day, but its day has come
and gone."

Bart turned on him with fury.

"SHUT UP!  You're trying to spoil whatever happiness I reach for.
Everything I do is a sin!  You're an old man and have done your share;
now you try to spoil mine.  This is my time to be young and fully enjoy
my life.  Keep your religious quotes to yourself

"Pride goeth before a fall."

"Pride goeth before destruction," corrected Bart, glaring at his
great-uncle and giving me delicious satisfaction.

At last, at last, Bart was seeing Joel as a threat sad not as the
respectable father he'd sought all his Life.

"Pride is the never-fading vice of fools," extolled toel, looking with
disgust at all that had been done.

"You have wasted money that would be better off j to charities."

"Get out!  Go to your room and polish your Uncle!  For obviously you
have nothing in your but jealousy!"

Joel stumbled from the room, muttering to hir "He'll find out.  Nothing
is forgotten or forgiven hi the hills.  I know.  Who would know better
th, Bitter, bitter are the days of the Fbxworths despite their
wealth."

I stepped forward to hug Bart.

"Don't listen to 1 Bart.  You'll have a wonderful party.  Everyone come
now that the sun is shining and melting the sn God is on your side this
day, so rejoice and have 4 time of your life."  I The look in his eyes
when I said that, oh, 4 grateful look.  He stared at me, trying to say
sometoi but the words couldn't form.  Finally he could 1 nothing but
briefly embrace me; then he was strk" away as if embarrassed.  Such a
wonderful-looking r so wasted, I was thinking.  There had to be some
where Bart fitted.

Rooms that had been closed off since winter b were opened, the dust
covers removed and freshenf that no one would know we ever made an
effort | conserve heat or money.  Bathrooms and powder r were given
special attention to make them both iir ulate and attractive. Expensive
soaps and lavish towels were put out.  Every toiletry item that a ^
might need was displayed.  Special Christmas china;

crystal were taken from the party cabinets, along v seasonal
decorations too expensive for the caterer supply.  a We gathered around
the Christmas tree about el o'clock.  Bart was freshly shaven,
splendidly groomed, as was Jory.  Only Melodie looked stale in I worn
maternity dress that she wore day in and we out.  Trying as always to
ease tensions, I picked up 1 Christ child from the realistic manger
and held the baby in my arms.

"Bart, I haven't seen this before.  Did you buy this?  If so, I've
never seen a more beautifully (arved set of Biblical figures."

"It just arrived yesterday, and only today I unpacked it," Bart
answered.

"I bought it in Italy last winter and bad them ship it over."

I gushed on, happy to see him so animated.

"This Christ child looks like a real baby, when most don't, and the
virgin Mary is absolutely beautiful.  Joseph looks so kind and
understanding."

"He'd have to be, wouldn't he?"  asked Jory, who was leaning forward to
put more of his gifts under our family tree.

"After all, it must have seemed a bit incredible for him to believe a
virgin could be impregnated by an invisible, abstract God."

"You're not supposed to question," answered Bart, his eyes lovingly
caressing the almost life-sized figures he'd purchased.

"You just blindly accept what is writ ten."

"Then why did you argue with Joel?"

"Jory ... don't push me too far.  Joel is helping me find myself.  He's
an old man who lived in sin when be was young and is redeeming himself
in his old age through good deeds.  I am a young man who wants to sin,
feeling my traumatic childhood has already re deemed me."

"I suggest a few orgies in some big city will have you running back
here, as old and hypocritical acting as your great-uncle Joel,"
answered Jory fearlessly.

"I

don't like him.  And you'd be wise to drive him out, Bart.  Give him a
few hundred thousand and say goodbye."

Something yearning struggled in Bart's eyes, as if le'd like to do
exactly this.  He leaned forward to stare nto Jbry's eyes.

"Why don't you like him?"

"I can't really say, Bart," said Jory, who'd always irgiven easily.

"He looks around your home like it should be his.  I've caught him
glaring at you when aren't paying attention.  I don't believe he's your
fri only your enemy."

Deeply distressed and disturbed looking, Bart the room, tossing back
his cynical remark.

"When J I ever bad anything but enemies?"

In a few moments Bart was back, bearing his heavy stack of gifts.  It
took him three trips from office to put all he'd bought under the
family tree Then it was Chris.  Carefully arranging all his i ents, and
that took some doing.  The gifts were sta up three feet high and
spreading to fill most of corner.

Melodic crept dismally into the cheerful room li dark shadow and
settled down near the fireplace, c enough to feel the warmth, crumpled
like a rag in chair, still everlastingly finding more fascination if
dancing flames than in anything else.  She appe sullen, moody,
withdrawn and determined to be t in physical appearance only as her
spirit roamed 1 Her abdomen was tremendously swollen, and she had a few
weeks to go.  Her eyes were darkly shadow Soon all of us were making an
effort to be a lo family as Cindy played Santa Claus.  Christmas, a
learned a long time ago, had its own gifts to ( Grudges could be
forgotten, enemies forgiven as w united around the tree.^ven Joel.  and
one by shook our packages, made our guesses, then tore our packages,
laughing and drowning out the carol put on the stereo.  Soon glittering
paper and shi ribbons littered the floor.

Cindy at last handed Joel the gift she had for him accepted it
tentatively as he'd taken all our gifts, we were heathen fools who
didn't know the meaning of a Christmas that didn't need gifts.  Thei
eyes were bulging at the white nightshirt and peaked sleeping cap Cindy
must have really hunte find.  Definitely he would look like Scrooge wea
those things.  Included was an ebony walking s)

which he hurled to the floor along with the nightshirt and cap.

"Are you mocking me, girl?"

"I only wanted you to have warm sleeping garments, Uncle," she said
demurely, her sparkling eyes down cast, "and the walking stick would
hurry your steps' "Away from you?  Is that what you mean?"  He stooped
painfully to pick up the stick and brandished it wildly in the air.

"Maybe I will keep this thing after all;

great weapon in case I'm attacked one night when I stroll the gardens..
. and long corridors."

Silent for a moment, not one of us could speak.  Then Cindy laughed.

"Uncle, I thought of that in advance.  I knew one day you'd feel
threatened."

He left the room then.

Only too soon all the gifts were unwrapped, and Jory was staring
worriedly at the litter on the floor, then scanning all around the
room.

"I didn't forget you, Bart," he said with concern.

"Cindy and Dad helped me wrap it once, but then I undid the wrapping,
touched up again, wrapped it myself the last time after Cindy helped me
lift it in."  He kept looking through the rubble of discarded foil and
ribbons.

"Eariy this morning, before the rest of you were up, I came down here
and I put it under the tree.  Where the hell did it go, I wonder?  It's
a huge box, wrapped hi red foil, tied with silver ribbons and by far
the largest box under the tree."

Bart didn't say a word, as if he'd grown accustomed to disappointments
and the lack of Jory's gift was of no importance.

Of course I knew Jbry had worked for months and months to finish the
dipper ship that had ended up three feet in length and just as tall,
with all its fragile riggings exactly right.  He'd even sent for
special copper fittings and a solid brass wheel for the helm. 
Desperately Jory looked around

"Has anyone seen the big box wrapped in red foil, with Bart's name on
the tag?"  he asked.

Immediately I was on my feet and scrambling through the piles of
boxes, papers, ribbons, tissi with Chris soon joining me in the search.
Cindy be her own search on the other side of the room.

"C

she cried out.

"Here it is, behind this red sofa."

carried it to Bart and put it on the floor near his f bowing in mocking
obeisance.

"For our lord, master," she said sweetly, backing away.

"I tt Jory's a fool to give it to you after all the hard wort put into
this thing, but maybe you'll be appreciat for once."

Suddenly I noticed Joel had slipped back into room to observe Bart. How
strange his expression, 1 strange.

Bart dropped his sophistication like an un war garment and became
childishly eager to open particular gift.  Already he was tearing into
the paci Jory bad so beautifully and carefully wrapped.

glanced up at Jory, his smile warm, wide and happy, dark eyes lit with
boyish anticipation.

"Ten to one that clipper ship you made, Jory.  You really she keep that
yourself... but thanks, thanks a heap He paused, then sucked in his
breath.

He stared down into the box, paling before he too upward, his happiness
vanished.  Now his eyes were of bitterness.

"It's broken," he said in a dull to "Smashed to small pieces.  There's
nothing in this but broken matchsticks and tangled rigging."

His voice cracked as be stood up and dropped box to the floor.
Violently he kicked it aside befon threw a hard look at Melodic, who
hadn't said a w even when she opened her gifts, only thanked us v nods
and weak smiles.

"I should have known would find the perfect way to repay me for sicef
with your wife."

Stunned silence rumbled louder than thunder.  ^ odie sat on, bleakly
staring, seeming an empty sfc even as she mumbled on and on about how
much hated this house.  Jory's eyes went starkly blank.

Had he guessed all along?  All of Jory's color }

ished before finally he could force his eyes to look at Melodic.

"I don't believe you, Bart.  You've always had a nasty, hateful way of
kicking where it hurts most."

"I'm not lying," lashed oat Bart, disregarding the pain he was
inflicting on Jory, on me and Chris.

"While you lay on your hospital bed, inside your cast, your wife and I
shared one bed, and eagerly enough she Spread her legs for me."

Chris jumped to his feet, his face angrier than I'd ever seen it.

"Bart, how dare you say such things to your brother?  Apologize to Jory
and Melodic, immedi lately!  How can you hurt him like this, when
already he's hurt enough?  Do you hear me?  You tell him every word you
just said is a lie!  A damned lie!"

"It's not a lie," raged Bart.

"If you never believe anything I say again, believe me when I say that
Melodie was a very cooperative bed companion."

Cindy squealed, then jumped up to slap Melodic's stricken white face.

"How dare you do that to Jory?"

she screamed.

"You know how much he loves you?"

Then Bart was laughing, hysterically laughing.  Chris thundered, "STOP
THAT!  Face up to this situation, Bart the loss of die clipper ship is
not a good excuse for trying to destroy your brother's marriage.  Where
is your honor, your integrity?"

Almost instantly Bart's laughter faded.  His eyes turned crystal hard
and cold as they surveyed Chris from head to toe.

"Don't you talk to me about honor and integrity.  Where was yours when
it came to your sister?  Where is it now when you continue to sleep
with her?  Don't you realize yet that your relationship with her has
warped me so that I don't care about anything but seeing the two of you
separated?  I want my mother to finish out her life as a decent,
respectable woman and it's you who keeps her from that  Ysu,
Christopher you!"

His face full of disgust and no remorse, Bart spun on his heel and left
the room.

Left us all in the shambles of our Christmas joy.

Eager to do the same.  Melodic rose awkwa stood trembling with her
head bowed, before C yelled, "Did you sleep with Bart?  Did you?  It
isn't for you to just say nothing when Jory's heart is bi ing."

Melodie's darkly shadowed eyes seemed to deeper into her skull even as
they grew larger larger, her pupils dilating as if with fear.

"Why i you leave me alone?"  she cried pitifully.

"I'm not n of the same iron as the rest of you!  I can't take tragedy
after another.  Jory lay stricken in the host unable to ever walk or
dance again, and Bart was I I needed someone.  He held me, comforted
me.  I d my eyes and pretended he was Jory."

Jory fell forward in his chair.  Iran to hold him, to find him gasping
so rackingly he couldn't < control his shaking hands.  I held him in my
am Chris tried to stop Melodic from running up the st "Be careful!"  he
called.

"You could fall and lose baby!"

"I don't care," came back her pitiful wail before disappeared from
sight.

By this tune Jory had gained enough control to' away his tears and find
a weak smile.

"Well, n< know," he said in a cracked voice.

"I guessed a time ago that she and Bart had something going on, I hoped
it was only my suspicions working overt But I should have known better.
Mel can't five wtel a man beside her, especially in bed ... and I
hardly blame her, can I?"

Stricken to the bone, I began to pick up the w pings that had been so
carefuBy applied and so rath ly npped off.  Like life, and how
carefully we trie maintain our illusions when things were seldom
\softline they had appeared to be.

Soon Jory excused himself, saying he needed & alone.

"Who could have smashed that wonderful ship whispered.

"Ondy helped Jory wrap that gift the time he touched up the paint, and
I was there watching.

The ship was carefully put in a special plastic foam shell to hold it
upright.  It shouldn't have had one crack, one thing broken."

"How can I ever explain what goes on in this house?"

answered Chris in a throaty voice full of pain.  He looked up to see
Bart standing in the doorway, his long legs spread wide, his fists on
his hips as he glared at me.

In a louder tone Chris addressed Bart.

"What's done is done, and I'm sure it's not Jory's fault the clipper
ship was broken.  He meant well.  All along he told us he was putting
that ship together for your office mantel."

"I'm sure Jory did mean well," said Bart evenly, his control
regained.

"But there is my dear little adopted sister who hates me and no doubt
wants to punish me for giving her boyfriend what he deserved.  Next
time it will be act-I punish."

"Maybe Jory dropped the box," said Joel in a saintly way.  I stared at
that old man with his glittering weak eyes and waited my opportunity to
say what I had to when no one else was around.

"No," denied Bart.

"It had to be Cindy, I have to admit my brother has always given me
fair treatment, even when I didn't deserve it."

And all the while he said this, I was staring at Joel with his smirky
face, his glittery, satisfied eyes.

Just before retiring, I had my chance.  We were in a back second-floor
hallway.

"Joel, Cindy wouldn't have destroyed all Jory's work and ruined Bart's
gift.  But you like to drive wedges between members of our family.  I
believe it was you who smashed the ship, then rewrapped it."

He said nothing, only put more hatred in his unrelenting stare.

"Why did you come back, Joel?"  I shouted.

"You claim you hated your father and were happy in your Italian
monastery.  Why didn't you stay there?  Certainly in all those years
you made a few friends.  You must have known you wouldn't find any
here.  My mother told me you always hated this house.  Now you i
through it as if you owned it."  .?

Stilt he said nothing.

I followed him into his room and looked aroure the first time. Biblical
illustrations on his walls.  Olf from the Bible put in cheap frames. 
;

He moved so that he was behind me.  I felt his wb warm breath on my
neck, smelling old and faintly i I sensed when he moved his arms be
meant to d me.  Startled, I whirled about to find him inches How
silently and quickly he could move.

"Mj ther's mother was named Corrine," he said in sweetest possible
voice, enough to make me doubl reasoning.

"My sister had the same name, given to as a form of punishment, a
constant reminder to father of his unfaithful mother, proving to him a
and again that no beautiful woman could be trust) how right he was."

He was an old man, in his eighties, yet I slapped i slapped him hard.
He staggered backward, then los balance and fell to the floor.

"You'll regret that slap.  Catherine," he cried more anger than he'd as
yet shown.

"Just as muc Corrine regretted all her sins.  You, too, will Have
enough to regret yours!"

I fled his room, fearing what he said was only true.

ass

The Traditional FoxworfbBall

,.j Christmas night our dinner was served around five i order to give
the family plenty of time to prepare for ie big event that would begin
at nine-thirty.  Bart wore glow of happiness.  His warm hand readied to
cover ,juie, sending a shock of pleasure through me, for so F seldom
did he show affection by touching.

"If I can't have all my wealth right away, then I should have at least
all the prestige due the owner of this house."

I smiled and covered, the hand that held mine with my free hand.

"Yes, I understand, and we'll do everything possible to see that your
party is a huge success."

Joel sat nearby, sending out invisible vibes.  He was smiling
cynically.

"Lord help those fools who deceive themselves," he muttered half under
his breath.  Bart closed his ears and pretended not to hear, but I was
worried.  Someone had broken Jory's clipper ship, which had been meant
as a reconciliation gift to Bart.  It had to be Joel who had
heartlessly ruined that ship that Jory had slaved over for months and
months.  What else would he do?

My eyes met Joel's.  I couldn't quite put my finger on how Joel looked
at this moment, except sanctimonious.

He daintily picked at his food, cutting his fruitcake intotiny morsels
that he picked up with his long fingers.

These he chewed with intense concentration, using only his front teeth,
much as a rabbit ate a carrot.

"I'm going to bed now," announced Joel.

"I don't approve of tonight's party, Bart, you might as well know that.
Remember what happened at your birthday party, and you should have
known better.  Again I say it's a waste of good money entertaining
people don't know well enough.  I also disapprove of pc who drink, who
cavort and act wild on a day mean worship.  This day belongs to the
Lord and his son.

should all go down on our knees and stay there f dawn until midnight,
like we did in my monastery we gave silent thanks for just being
alive."

Since not one of us said a word, Joel went on know drunken men and
women will eventually tr fornicate with someone other than whom they c
with.  I remember your birthday party and what i on.  Sinful modern
life makes me realize how pure world was when I was young.  Nothing is
the same used to be.  People knew how to act decently in pi then, no
matter what they did behind closed dc Now nobody cares who sees them do
what.  We' didn't bare their bosoms when I was a boy, nor pu) their
skirts for every man who wanted them."

He riveted his cold blue eyes on me, and thei Cindy.

"Those who Sin, and sin again, always dearly, as some here should
already know."  Nex was staring at Jory meaningfully.

"The old son of a bitch," murmured Cindy, wate him slip out of the room
with the same stealth as he entered.

"Cindy, don't you ever let me hear you say anyti like that again.""
fired Bart.

"Nobody uses obscen under my roof."

"Well, I'll be damned!"  flared Cindy.

"Just the o day I overheard you calling Joel the same thing..

what's more, Bart Foxworth, I'll call a spade a spa even under your
roof!"

"Go to your room and stay there!"  bellowed Bi "Everybody continue
having fun," said Jbry, gui< his chair toward the elevator.

"As for me, damned don't want to turn in my Christian membership."

"You've never been a Christian to begin wi called Bart.

"Nobody here goes to church.  But tl

will come a day in the near future when everyone here will attend
church."

Chris stood up and precisely put down his napkin, fixing Bart and Cindy
with commanding eyes.

"I've had enough of this childish quibbling.  I'm surprised that all of
you who think you are adults can revert to children in a wink of the
eye."

But Jbry was not to be stopped this time.  He wheeled his chair about
abruptly, rage flaming his usually controlled face, flaring wide his
nostrils.

"Dad, I'm sorry, but I've got to have my say."  He turned toward Bart,
who had risen to his feet.

"Now, you listen to me, little brother."  His strong hands released the
joy stick to clench into fists.

"I believe in God... but I don't believe in religion.  Religion is used
to manipulate and punish.  Used in a thousand ways for profit, for even
in the church, money is still the realOod."

"Bart," I implored, so afraid he'd harm Jory again, "it's time we all
headed upstairs."

Bart had paled.

"No wonder you sit there in that chair if you believe what you just
said.  You are being punished by God, just as Joel says."

"Joel," sneered Jbry.

"Who the hell cares what an old fool like Joel says?  I'm punished
because some stupid idiot wet the sand!  God didn't pour down rain to
do that.  A garden hose took God's place, and that's why I'm in this
chair and not where I belong.  As soon as possible, I'm leaving here,
Bart!  I'm forgetting you're ray brother, whom I've always tried to
love and help.  I'm not going to try again."

"Hooray for you, fory!"  cried Ondy jumping to her feet and
applauding.

"STOP!"  I yelled, seizing Cindy by the arm while Chris grabbed her
other arm and we dragged her away from Bart.  Still she twisted and
fought to free herself.

"You damned freaky hypocrite!"  she yelled back at Bart.

"I heard at your birthday party that you do your share of using the
local brothel..."

Thank God the elevator door closed behind us i we were on our way up
before Bart could teach Ciri "Learn to keep your mouth shut said
Jory."" only make him worse, Cindy--and I regret what I;

said.  Did you see his face?  I don't think he's pretend about
religion.  He's deadly serious.  He seems toti believe.  If Joel is a
hypocrite, Bart is not."

Chris fixed his strong regard on both before stepped out of the
elevator.

"Jory, Cindy, you list el me carefully.  I want you both to do your
best to nigh see that Bart's party is successful.  Forget your enm at
least for one night.  He was a troubled little boy, i he has grown into
a more troubled man.  He needs h< and badly.  Not from more sessions
with psychiatri but help from those who love him most--and desj
everything, I know you both love him.  Just as mother and I love him
and care what happens to h As for Melodic, I visited her before dinner,
and sl not feeling well enough to attend the party.  I wouldn't let me
examine her, though I tried to ins and she says she feels too big, too
clumsy and won't coming out where guests can stare at her enorm' size. 
I think that might be tile best solution for her.  ] if you would, look
in on her and say a few kind word;

encouragement, for that poor girl is coming apart fr worry ;.."

Jory steered he chair down the hall, turning dire into his room,
ignoring Melodie's closed door.  I sigh as did Chris.

Dutifully Cindy tried to say a few consoling words Melodic outside of
her locked door before she ca prancing back to join Chris and I. "I'm
not going to Melodic spoil my fun.  I think she's acting like a dami
selfish fool.  As for me, I intend to have the time of life tonight,"
said Cindy in parting.

"I don't giv damn about Bart and his party except what pleasur gives
me."

"I'm concerned about Cindy," aid Chris when

S56

were lying on our wide bed, trying to catch a short nap.

"I have the feeling Cindy is not stingy with her favors."

"Chris, don't you dare say that!  Just because we caught her with that
boy Lance doesn't mean she is loose.  She's looking, looking all the
time at each young man she meets, hoping he's the one.  If one says he
loves her, she believes because she needs to believe.

Don't you realize Bart has stolen her confidence?  She's afraid she is
exactly what Bart thinks she is.  She's torn between being as wicked as
he thinks and being as nice as we want her to be.  Cindy's a beautiful
young woman .. and Bart treats her like filth."

It had been a long day for Chris.  He closed his eyes and turned on his
side to embrace me.

"Eventually Bart will straighten out," he murmured.

"For the first time I'm seeing in his eyes the need to find a
compromise.  He has the desperate desire to find someone or something
to believe in.  Someday he will find what he needs, and when he does,
he'll be set free to be the fine man he is under that hateful
exterior."

Sleep and dream of impossible things, like harmony in the family, like
brothers and a sister who found love for each other.  Dream on, dreamer
... I heard the grandfather clock down die hall chiming the hour of
seven when we were supposed to rise from our naps to bathe and dress. I
shook Chris awake and told him to hurry and dress.  He stretched,
yawned, lazily got up to shower while I took a quick tub bath;

then he was shaving before donning his custom-tailored tux.  Chris
stared at himself in a pier glass.

"Cathy, am I gaining weight?"  he asked with concern.

"No, darling.  You look terr if as Cindy would say."

"What do you say?"

"You grow more handsome with each passing year."

I stepped closer to encircle his waist with my arms as my cheek rested
against his back.

"I love you more each year .. . and even when you are as old as Joel, I
will see you as you are now .. . standing twelve feet tall, in your
shining suit of armor, soon to ride y white unicorn.  In your hand
you'll carry a twelve^ spear with a green dragon's head perched upon
point."  i In the mirror I saw his reflection; tears had conn glisten
in his eyes.

"After all this time, you rememb^ he whispered hoarsely.

"After all these 01 years..  ."  a "As if I could forget..  ."

"But it's been so long ago."

"And today the moon shone at noon," I munnui moving to face him and
slide my arms up around neck, "and a blizzard blew in your unicorn .. .
ai saw to my own delight that you've always had respect.  You didn't
need to earn it."

Those two tears trickled slowly down his cheek kissed them away.

"So you forgive me, Catherine?^ now, while we have the chance, that you
forgive me putting you through so much hell.  For Bart would h turned
out differently if I had stayed only his uncle;

found another wife

1 was careful not to smudge his jacket with makeup as I rested my cheek
over his heart, whic heard thumpity-thump-thumping.  Just as I'd hear
the first time our love changed and became more that should have
been.

"If I blink my eyes just once, twelve years old again, and you're
fourteen.  I can you as you were then .. . but I can't see me.  Ch why
can't I see me?"

His crooked smile was bittersweet.

"Because ] stolen all the memories of what you were and sto them in my
heart.  But you haven't said you foq me."

"Would I be here, where I am, if I didn't want be?"

"I hope and pray not," and I was held, held so tigl in his arms my ribs
ached.

Outside the snow began to fall again.  Inside ..stop her Doll had
turned back the dock, and if Hjiere was no magic for Melodic in this
house, and Lance departure had stolen romance from Cindy, there was
more than enough magic for me when Chris ff/as there to cast Us
spell.

At nine-thirty we sat, all ready to stand when Trevor flurried to open
the door.  He stood anxiously looking at his watch, glancing at us with
great pride.  Bart, Chris, jory and myself in our elegant expensive
formal clothes faced the front windows with their splendid draperies.

The towering Christmas tree in the foyer sparkled with a thousand tiny
white lights.  It had taken five people hours to decorate that tree.

As I sat there like some middle-aged Cinderella who had already found
her prince and married him and was caught in the spell of the
happy-ever-after, which wasn't all that perfect, something pulled my
eyes upward.  In the shadows of the rotunda where two knights in full
armor stood on pedestals opposite each other, I saw a dark shadow move.
Even in the shade of that smaller closer knight, I thought I knew who
it was.

Joel, who was supposed to be in bed asleep, or on his knees praying for
all our sinning un-Christian souls.

"Bart," I whispered to my second son, who moved to stand beside my
chair, "wasn't this supposed to be the special party to reintroduce
Joel to all his old friends?"

"Yes," he whispered back, putting his arm over my shoulders.

"But that was just my excuse.  I knew be wouldn't want to come.  The
truth of the matter is, few of his old friends are still alive,
although many of my grandmother's school chums are still around."  His
strong fingers bit down into my shoulder's tender flesh.

"You look lovely--like an angel."

Was that a compliment, or a suggestion?

He smiled at me cynically, then snatched his aim away as if it had
betrayed him.

I laughed nervously.

"Oh, someday when I'm as old as Joel I suppose I'll take on a
dowager's hump ai shuffle my feet along, and when my sinning is over, ]
put on the halo' I lost way back when I was puberty .. ."* Both Bart
and Chris scowled to hear me talk tli way, but I felt good when I saw
the shadow of Joel slii away.

Liveried servants readied the buffet tables as Bi got up to pace the
floor, looking exceptionally ban some in his black tux with the pleated
formal shin.

I reached for Jory's hand, squeezed it.

"You" looking just as handsome as Bart," I whispered.

"Mom, have you given him a compliment?  He loo great, really great, the
very man his father must ha

Blushing, I felt ashamed.

"No, I haven't said a we because he seems so devilishly pleased with
himself th I think he'd burst with any praise he might hear fro me."

"Mom, you're wrong.  Go on, say to him what y< say to me.  You may
think I need it more, but I think 1 does."

Standing, I strode over to where Bart was peer ii out onto the drive,
which curved gradually down war "Can't see a single headlight," he
gruffly complaine "It's not snowing now.  The roads have been clear
Ours is sprinkled over with gravel; where the hell a they?"

"I've never seen you look more handsome than y( do tonight, Bart."

He turned to stare into my eyes, then he glanced Jory.

"More handsome than Jory?"

"Equally as handsome."

Scowling, he turned back to the window.  Out the he saw something to
take his mind off of himself "Hey^--took, here they come!"

I watched the string of headlights in the distanc heading up the
hill.

"Get ready, everybody," calk

Bart, giving Trevor an excited gesture to be ready to swing wide the
doors.

Chris strolled beside Jory's chair, which he guided expertly, as I
caught hold of Bart's arm and went to form a receiving line.  Trevor
hurried up to give us all a bright smile.

"I just love parties, I always have, I always will.

Makes the heart beat faster.  Makes old bones feel young again.  I can
tell it's going to be a jolly smashing one tonight."

Two or three times Trevor said that with less conviction each time, as
still not one pair of those head lights climbed high enough to reach
our drive.  No one rang our bell, banged our door knocker.

The musicians were in position under the rotunda, on a dais that had
been constructed especially for them, centered directly between the
curving dual stairways.

They tuned their instruments over and over again as my feet in their
high-heeled fancy slippers began to ache.  I sat again on an elegant
chair and wiggled my shoes off under the folds of my gown, which was
growing heavier and more uncomfortable by the minute.  Eventually Chris
sat beside me, and Bart took the right hand chair, all of us very
silent, almost holding our breaths.  Jory had his own special chair
that could buzz him around tirelessly.  From window to window he drove,
looking out and reporting.

I knew that Cindy was upstairs, all dressed and ready, waiting to be
"fashionably" late and impress everyone when finally she drifted down
the stairs.  She had to be growing very impatient.

"They must be coming soon " Jory said when the hour reached
ten-thirty.

"There's lots of banked snow on the side roads to confuse them ..."

Bart's lips were tight and grim, his eyes stony cold.

No one said anything.  I was afraid to even speculate on why no one had
arrived.  Trevor looked very anxious when he thought we weren't
noticing.

To give myself something pleasant to think aboi fixed my eyes on the
buffet tables, which reminded so much of that first ball I'd seen in
the orif Foxworth Hall.

Very much like what I was staring at.

Red linen tablecloths, silver dishes and bowk fountain spraying
champagne.  Huge, gleaming, cha dishes emitting delicious odors.  Heaps
and heap food on fancy tiered plates of crystal, porcelain, | and
silver.  At last I could resist no longer and got u taste of this and
that white Bart frowned and c plained I was ruining the beautiful
designs.  I wrini my nose his way and handed Chris a plateful
everything I knew he'd like best.  Soon Jory was hell] himself.

Red beeswax bay berry candles burned lower lower.  Towering gelatin
masterpieces began to Melted cheeses began to toughen, and the hea
sauces thickened.  Crepe batter waited to be poure turned over thin
pans, while chefs eyed each 01 curiously.  I had to look away from all
that was g< bad.

Fires cheered all our main rooms, making them o exceptionally lovely.
Extra servants grew restless anxious-looking as they fidgeted and began
to about, whispering amongst themselves, not know what to do.

Down the stairs drifted Cindy in a crimson hoof skirted gown, so
elaborate it put my delicately bea gown to shame.  Hers had a tight
bodice, with a floii of fluted ruffles to cover a little of her upper
ar displaying her shoulders to advantage and creatii magnificent frame
for her creamy, swelling breasts."

red gown was cut very low.  The skirt was a master?;

of ruffles, caught with white silk flowers raindrop with iridescent
crystals.  A few of these white blossoms were tucked in her up swept
hair, duplica something Scarlett O'Hara might have liked.

"Where's everybody?"  she asked, looking around, her radiant
expression fading.

"I waited and waited to hear the musk; playing, then sort of dozed off,
thinking when I woke that I was missing out on all the fun."

She paused and glanced around before a look of dismay flooded her
expression.

"Don't tell me nobody's going to come!  I just can't stand another
disappointment  Dramatically she threw her hands about.

"No one has as yet arrived.  Miss," said Trevor tactfully.

"They must have lost their way, and I must say you look a dream of
loveliness, as does your mother."

"Thank you," she said, floating his way and brushing his cheek with a
daughterly kiss.

"You look very distinguished yourself."  She dashed past Bart's look of
astonishment and ran to the piano.

"Please, may I?"

she asked a young, good-looking musician who seemed delighted to have
something happening, at last.

Cindy sat down beside him, put her hands on the keys, threw back her
head and began to sing: "Oh, holy night.  Oh, night when stars are
shining."

I stared, as did all of us, at the girl we thought we knew so well.  It
wasn't an easy song to sing, but she did it so well, with so much
emotion even Bart stopped pacing the floor to turn and stare at her in
amazement, Tears were in my eyes.  Oh, Cindy, how could you keep that
voice a secret for so long?  Her piano playing was only adequate, but
that voice, the feeling she put into her phrasing.  AH the musicians
then joined in to drown out her piano playing, if not her voice.

I sat, stunned, hardly believing that my Cindy could sing so
beautifully.  When she'd finished, we all applauded enthusiastically.
As Jory called out, "Sensational  Fantastic!  Absolutely wonderful,
Cindy!  You sneak you never told us you continued with your voice
lessons."

"I haven't.  It's just me expressing the way I feel."

She cast her eyes down, then took a sly, hooded look at Bart's
astonished expression, which showed not < his surprise but some
pleasure as well.  For the first 1 he had found something to admire
about Cindy.

small smile of satisfaction fleeted quickly by, kind sad smile, as if
she wished Bart could like her for o reasons as well.

"I love Christmas carols and religious songs, the;

something for me.  Once in school I sang "Swing I. Sweet Chariot," and
the teacher said I had the kim emotional feeling to make a great
singer.  But I want most to bean actress."

Laughing and happy again, she asked us to joi] and we'd make this a
real party, even if no one sho up.  She began to bang out a tune
resembling "Jfa the World."  Then "Jingle Bells."

This time Bart was not moved.

He strode again to thewinddws to stare out, his I straight.

"They can't ignore my invitations, not w they responded," he mumbled to
himself.

I couldn't understand bow his business friends dare to offend him when
he had to be their n important client, and everyone loved a party,
espe< ly the kind of party they had to know would sensational.

Somehow or other, Bart was accomplishing mira with that five hundred
thousand a year, making it g in ways that Chris would have found too
risky.  1 risked everything..  . calculated gambles that paid
handsomely.  Only then did I reafize that perhaps mother had meant it
to be this way.  If she had gi Bart all the fortune in one grand huge
sum, he wouli have worked as hard to build his own fortune,wl would, if
he kept it up, for exceed what Malcolm left him.  And in this way Bart
would find his < worth.

Yet what did money matter when he was so dis pointed he couldn't eat a
thing that was lavishly played?  However, disillusionment drove him to
liquor, and in a short while he'd managed to swal

half a dozen strong drinks as he paced the floors, growing angrier by
the second.

I could hardly bear to watch his disappointment, and soon, despite
mysetf, tears were silently wetting my face.  , '. - .. ; >.

Chris whispered, "We can't go to bed and leave him here alone.  Cathy,
he's suffering.  Look at him pacing back and forth.  With every step he
takes his anger grows.  Somebody is going to pay for this slight"
Eleven-thirty came and went.

By this time Cindy was the only one having a good time.  The musicians
and servants seemed to adore her.

Eagerly they played and she sang.  When she wasn't singing, she was
dancing with every man there, even Trevor and other male servants.  She
gestured to the maids, inviting them to dance, and happily they joined
in the festivity she created around her as they took turns to see that
she, at least, was entertained.

"Let's all eat, drink and be merryF' Cindy oried, smiling at Bart.

"It's not the end if the worild, brother Bart.  What do you care? We're
to0 ftsat (0 b^ well liked.  We're also too rich to' feel sorry for
ourselves.

And look, we have X least twenty guests... tet's dance, drink, eat,
have a baB!"

Bartstopped pacing to stare at her.  Cindy held high her glass of
champagne.

"My toast to you brother Bart.  Por every ugly ttnngwirwi said to me, I
rive you back blessings of good will, good health, long life and much
love."  She touched his highball glass with her champagne glass and
then sipped, smiling into his eyes charmingly before she offered
another toast.

"I think you look absolutely terr if and the girls who don't show up
tonight are missing the chance of their lifetimes.  So here it is,
another toast to the most eligible bachelor in the world.  I wish you
joy, I wish you happiness, I wish you love.  I would wish you success,
but you don't need that.". : .  > -."  -, ."  .< .  ^..r- '. ^ ^ ..

He couldn't move ms eyes away.

"Why dott't I seed success?"  he asked in a tow tone.

"Because what more could you want?  You I success when you have
millions, and soon enough y< have more money than you know what to do
with, Bart's dark head bowed.

"I don't feel successful.

when no one will even come to my party."  His v cracked as he turned
his back.

I got up to go to him.

"Will you dance with Bart?"

"No!"  he snapped, hurrying to a distant wire where he could stand and
stare again.

Cindy had a wonderful time with the musicians the men and women who'd
come to serve Bart's guc However, I was deeply downcast, feeling sorry
Bart, who had counted so much on this.  Out sympathy for him, all of us
but Cindy and the hired 1 moved into die front parlor, and there we sat
in fabulous expensive clothes and waited for guests i obviously had
accepted, only to trick Bart & on--and in this way tell us what they
thought of Foxworths on the hill.

The grandfather clock began to toll the houi twelve.  Bart left the
windows and fell upon the i before the guttering tog fire.

"I should have know would turn out this way."  He glanced bitterly at
J< "Perhaps they came to my birthday party only to you dance, and now,
when you can't--to hell with i They've snubbed me--and they're going to
pay for he said in a hard, cold voice, louder and stronger t Joel's but
with the same kind of zealot's fury.

"Bel I'm through, there won't be a house in a twenty-r radius that
doesn't belong to me.  I'll ruin them.  Al them.  With the power of toe
Foxworth trust behind I can borrow millions, and then I'll buy out the
ba and demand they pay off their mortgages.  I'll buy the village
stores, dose them down.  I'U hire of attorneys, fire the ones I have
now and see that the;

disbarred.  I'D find new stockbrokers, hire new i estate agents, see
that real estate property values undermined, and when they sell cheap,
I'll bay.  By the dine I'm through, there won't be one old aristocratic
Virginia family left this side of Chariottesville!  And not one of my
business colleagues will be left with anything but debts to pay off!"

"then will you feel-satisfied?"  asked Chris.

"NO!"  flared Bart, ms eyes hard, glaring.

"I won't be satisfied until justice has ruled!  I have done nothing to
deserve this night!  Nothing but try to give them what our ancestors
did--and they have rejected me!  They'll pay, and pay, and then pay
some more."

He sounded like me!  To hear my very own words coming from the mouth of
the child I'd carried when I'd said them made all my blood drain into
my feet;

Shivering, I tried to appear normal.

"I'm sorry, Bart.

But it wasn't a total loss, was it?  We're all together under one roof,
a united family for once.  And Cindy's music and singing made this a
festive occasion after all."

He wasn't listening.

He was staring at all the food that had yet to be eaten.  All the
champagne with the bubbles gone flat.

All the wine and liquor that could have loosened many a tongue and
given him information he wanted to use.

He glared at the maids in their pretty black and white uniforms,
drunken and staggering around, some still dancing as the music played
on and on.  He glowered at the few waiters who still held trays of
drinks gone warm.  Some stood and looked at him and waited for his
signal to say the night was over.  The impressive centerpiece of an ice
crystal manger, with the three shepherds, the wise men and all the
animals, had melted into a puddle and spilled over to darken the red
cloth.

"How lucky you were when you danced in The Nutcracker, Jory," said Bart
as he headed fast for the stairs.

"You were the ugly nutcracker that turned into the handsome prince. You
dominated every male rote --and won the prettiest ballerina every
time.  In Cinderella, in Romeo and Juliet.  In The Sleeping Bea
Giselle, Swan Lake every time but toe last time.  j it's the last time
that counts, isn't it?"

How cruel!  How wry cruel!  I watched Jory wi and for once he allowed
his pain to show, making heart ache for him.

"Merry Christmas," Bait called as he disappearci the stairs.

"We'll never again celebrate this holiday any other in this house as
long as I run it.  Joel was ri He warned me not to try and conform and
be others.  He said I shouldn't try to make people like respect me.
From now on, 1"H be like Malcolm.  I'll | respect by inflicting my will
on others, with fists of i;

and with ruthless determination.  All who have alie ed me tonight will
feel my might."

I turned to Chris when he was out of sight.  ' sounds crazy!"

"No, darling, he's not crazy--tee's

]slot one rejection, not even one.  People didn't do things like this,
even to someone they disliked.  If they hadn't wanted to come, they
would have tossed the invitations into the trash along with die return
card, or sent back the card declining.

Carefully I replaced the cards and then headed up the back stairs to
Joel's room.

Without even a preliminary knock I opened his door to find him sitting
on the edge of his narrow bed, doubled over in what appeared to be a
terrible stomach cramp, or that hateful silent laughter.  He was in
quiet convulsion, quivering, jerking, hugging himself with skinny
arms.

Quietly I waited until his hysteria was over, and only then did he see
the long shadow I cast.  Gasping, his mouth sunken because his teeth
were in a cup by the bed, he stared up at me.

"Why are you here, niece?"  he asked in that whiny but raspy voice, his
thin hair rumpled into devil horns that stood straight up.

"Downstairs, a while ago, 1 looked up and saw you in the rotunda
shadows, laughing.  Why were you laughing, Joel?  You must have seen
that Bart was suffering

"I don't know," he mumbled, half turning to replace the teeth in his
mouth.  When he had them in, he ran a hand over his spikey hair,
smoothing it down.  Only his cowlick refused to behave.  Now he could
meet my eyes.

"Your daughter made so much racket down there I couldn't sleep.  I
guess the sight of all of you in your ; fancy clothes waiting for
guests that didn't come tickled my sense of humor."

"You have a very cruel sense of humor, Joel.  I thought you cared for
Bart."

"I do love that boy."

"Do you?"  I asked sharply.

"I don't think so, or else you would have sympathized."  I glanced
around his sparsely furnished room, thinking back.

"Weren't you the one who mailed off (he party invitations?"

"I don't remember," he said calmly.  "lime doesn't mean much to an old
man like me when it's grow!

short.  What happened years ago seems clearer what happened a month
ago."

"My memory is much better than yours, Joel."

I sat down in the one chair he had in his room.  * had an important
appointment, and, as I recal turned over that stack of invitations to
you.  Die mail them, Joel?"

"Of course I mailed them!"  he snapped angrih "But you just said you
couldn't remember."

"I remember (tef day.  It took so long, dropping in the slot one by
one."

All the time I'd closely watched his eyes.

"Y

lying, Joel," I said, taking a wild shot in the dark."

didn't mail those invitations.  You brought thei here, and in the
privacy of this room, you opened one, filled in the blank places for
"Yes, we wi happy to attend," and then mailed those in the pr ed
envelopes back to Bart.  You see, I found the Bart's office.  I never
saw such a strange assort me crooked handwriting, all in various shades
of violet, green, black and brown ink.  Joel, you cha pens to make it
seem those cards were signe different guests, when it was you who
signed them Slowly Joel stood.  He gathered about him the t woven
invisible brown habit of a saintly monk, thing his gnarled hands up
those imaginary sleeve think you have lost your mind, woman," he said
cc "If you wish, go to your son and tell him your bar suspicions, and
see if he believes you."

Jumping up, I headed for the door.

"I intend 1 just that?  I slammed the door hard behind me hurried off.
' In his study Bart was seated behind his desk, wearing pajamas covered
by a black woolen robe in red.  Dmnkenly he was tossing the R.S.V.P. <
one by one into the roaring fire.  I saw to my disma last of the pile
go up in flames as I watched Bart another drink.

"What do you want?"  he asked in a slurred way, narrowing his eyes and
seeming surprised to see me.

"Bart, I've got to say this, and you have to listen.  I don't think
Joel mailed your invitations, and that is why your guests didn't show
up."

He tried to focus his eyes and his intellect, which must have reeled
under die influence of all he'd drunk.

"Of course he did.  Joel always does as I order."  He leaned back in
his swivel chair with its beck that lowered automatically from the
pressure he applied and closed his eyes.

"Tired now.  Go away.  Don't stand and stare at me with eyes of pity.
And they did accept... didn't I just bum their replies?"

"Bart, listen to me.  Don't fall asleep before I finish.

Didn't you notice how strangely they were signed?  AH the different
colored ink?  The crooked, awkward handwriting?

Joel did not mail your invitations, but instead took them to his room,
opened them, extracted the R.S.V.P. cards and envelopes, and since you
had put stamps on all of them, all he had to do was drive to the post
office and mail diem back to you a few each day."

His closed eyes slotted.

"Mother, I think you should go to bed.  My great-uncle is the best
friend I've ever had.  He'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Bart, please.  Don't put too much faith in Joel."

"GET OUT!"  he roared.

"It's your fault they didn't come!  Yours and that man you sleep
with!"

I stumbled as I turned away, feeling defeated and so afraid this could
very well be true--and Joel was just what Bart and Chris believed him
to be, a harmless old man who wanted to live out his days in this
house, near the one person who respected and loved him.

Unto Us Is Born.

Christmas Day was over.  I was in bed curled up tx Chris, who could
always fall easily into deep sl leaving me to fret and stew and flip
and turn.  Be me the great one-eyed swan kept its ruby eye a causing me
to look around often at what it could seeing.  I heard the deep, mellow
tones of the grai ther clock at the end of our hall strike three o'cloc
few minutes ago I'd gotten up to watch Bait's re speed down the drive,
heading toward the local ta where no doubt he'd drown his sorrows in
additi liquor and end up in some whore's bed.  More once he'd come home
reeking of liquor and cheap fume.  1, -. ,: .!  - - .  - ' Hour after
hour passed as I waited for Bart to c home.  I pictured all sorts of
calamities.  On a night this the drunks were out, deadlier than
arsenic.

Why lie here doing nothing?  1 slipped out of the arranged the covers
neatly over Chris's sleeping I kissed his cheek, then arranged his
heavy arms an a pillow that I presumed he'd think was me, and te from
the way he snuggled it close.  It was my inter to wait for Bart in his
room.

It was almost five on a cold, blustery, winter moi before I heard his
ear approaching.  I was huddled deep pile robe of lea-rose, curled up
on one a white sofas with his black and red pillows behinc back.

I dozed, then heard him climbing the stairs, h him moving drunkenly
from room to room, bum into furniture as he had when he was a child. He
dedicated to checking each room to see if it had 1 neatly tidied before
the servants retired.  And to

dismay, from the length of time it was taking him to appear in his own
rooms, he was doing that now.  No newspapers could be left in sight. No
magazines not neatly stacked in their respective piles.  No articles of
clothing left on the floor, or coats on doorknobs or draped on chair
backs.

Minutes later Bart was in his room, flicking the switch to light the
lamps.  He swayed to and fro before be stared at me Sitting in the
dimness of his room, where I'd started a fire that crackled cheerfully
in the darkness.  Shadows danced on the white walls, turning them
orange and rosy, the black leather of another wall catching red
highlights, creating a kind of fake inferno

"Mother, what the hell is going on?  Didn't I tell you to stay out of
my wing?"  Yet, in his drunken state, he looked glad to see me.

He wove his way uncertainly to a chair, took careful aim and fell down,
closing his darkly shadowed eyes.  I got up to massage the back of his
neck while he drooped his head forward and held it as if it pained him
dreadfully.  His hands cupped his face as my hands took away the pain.
Then he sighed, leaned back and stared fuzzily up into my eyes.

"I should know better than to drink," he murmured in a shirred way,
sighing as I stepped back and sat before him.

"It always makes me do crazy things, and then I feel sick.  Stupid to
keep it up when liquor has never done anything for me but add to my
problems.  Mother, what's wrong with me?  I can't even drink myself
into a forgetful stupor.  I'm always too sensitive.  I overheard Jory
tell you one day he was building that wonderful clipper ship to give to
me, and I was secretly thrilled.  No one has ever spent months and
months making me a gift and then it's broken.  He did such a great job,
taking so many pains to see that everything was exactly right.  Now all
that work is in the trash pile," He sounded childlike, vulnerable, easy
to reach and I was going to try, try to give him every ounce of love I
had.  Not mean when he was drunk, not silly loveable, touching in his
humanity.

"Darling, Jor gladly make you another," I volunteered, not su would be
glad to do all that tedious work a second i "No, Mother, I don't want
it now.  Something happen to that one, too.  That's the way my life j
Life has a cruel way of taking from me what I most.  There's no
happiness or love waiting for around the bend of tomorrow.  No gaining
wl want--my heart's desire, as I used to call the imf bte dreams of my
youth.  Wasn't that childish and;

No wonder you pitied me--I wanted so much.

much.  I was never satisfied.  You and that man you gave me everything
I ever said I wanted, and i things I didn't even mention, and still you
never me happiness.  So I've decided not to care a anything anymore.
The Christmas ball wouldn't given me pleasure even if the guests had
showed still would have failed to impress them.  Inside along, I knew
my party would prove just an failure, like all the other parties you
used to give Still I went ahead and hypnotized myself into belie that
if tonight was successful it would set a precci so to speak, and all my
life would then change fo better."

My second son was talking to me as he'd never < before.  Liquor was
loosening his tongue.

"Stupid, aren't I?"  he went on.

"Cindy's right i she calls me a jerk and a creep.  I look in my minor
see a handsome man, very much like my father, v, you say you loved more
than any other man.  I don't feel I am handsome inside.  I'm uglier
that inside.  Then I wake up, feel the fresh morning m tain air, see
the dew sparkling on the roses, se winter sun shining on the snow, and
that tells me m life is going to offer me my chance after all.  I hopes
of one day finding the real me--the one ] like, and that's why, months
ago, I decided to make

the happiest Christmas of all our lives, not only for jory, who
deserves it, but for you and for myself.  You think I don't love Jory,
but I do."

He bowed his head into his waiting hands and sighed heavily.

"Confession time.  Mother.  I hate Jory, too, I don't deny that.  But I
hold no love at all for Cindy.

She's done nothing but steal from me--and she isn't even one of us.
Jory's always had the largest portion of your love, the part you've got
left over after giving your brother the best.  I've never had the major
portion of anyone's love.  I thought that Melodic had given me that.
Now I know she'd have taken any man just to replace Jory.  Any man at
all who was available and willing, and that's why I hate her now, just
as mud) as I hate Cindy."

His hands came down to show how bitterly his dark eyes glowed; the
reflection from the fire made them like red-hot coals.  Those drinks
had made his breath reek.

My heart almost stopped beating.  What would he want?  I stood up,
moved behind his chair and slid my arms around his neck before my head
lowered to rest on top of his disheveled hair.

"Bart, you drove away tonight and left me sleepless and waiting for you
to come home.  Tell me what can I do to help.  Nobody here hates you
like you think.  Not even Cindy.  Often you make us angry because you
disappoint us, not because we want to reject you."

"Send Chris away," be said tonelessly as if he said this without hope
of ever seeing Chris gone from my life.

"That will tell me you love me.  Only-when you break with him can I
feel good about myself, and you."

Pain stabbed me.

"He'd die without me, Bart," I whispered.

"I know you can't understand the way it is between us, and I myself
can't explain why be needs me, and why I need him, except we were young
and alone and in a terrifying situation, and we had only each other. We
created a fantasy dreamlike world when we were locked away and trapped
ourselves in so doing, and now that we're both middle-aged we still liv
that fantasy.  We can't survive without it.  To lose now would destroy
not only him, but me as well."

"But Mother!"  he cried out passionately, turn ix hold me, to press his
face between my breasts, "y still have me!"  He gazed up into my face,
his < around my waist.

"I want you to purify your before it's too late.  What you do with
Chris is ags the rules of God and society.  Let him go.  Mot Please let
him go--before someone does so met terrible, let go of your brother's
love."

I drew away, brushed back a fallen wisp of my 1 Feeling defeated and
hopeless, for it was so impossi what he asked.

"Would you hurt me, Bart?"

He bit down on his lip, a childish habit that c back when he was
disturbed.

"I don't know.  Someti I want to.  More than I want to hurt him.  You
snril me with such sweetness, and my heart reaches wanting you never to
change.  Then I go to bed and 1 whispers in my head that tell me you
are evil deserve to die.  When I think of you dead and in ground, tears
fill my eyes and my heart feels empty broken, heavier than lead--and
I'm undone.  I fe cold, so alone and scared.  Mother, am I crazy?  Wl
it I can't fall in love with confidence that it will 1 Why can't I
forget about what you do?

"I thought for a while that Melodie and I ha made.  She seemed to me so
perfect, and then she b< to turn fat and ugly.  She whined and nagged,
complained about my home.  Even Cindy was n appreciative.  I took her
to the best restaurants, to p and movies, and tried to take her mind
off Jory, bul wouldn't let it go.  She kept talking of the ballet how
much it means to her, and that's when I found I was only a substitute
for Jory and she never loved never loved me at all.  She used me as a
way to fo her loss for a while.  Now she doesn't even look like giri I
fell in love with.  She wants pity and sympathy,

love.  She took my love and turned it around, so now I can't stand to
look at her."

Sighing, he lowered his eyes and said in such a low voice I could
hardly hear him, "I see that kid, Cindy, and realize she must look the
way you used to, and a little bit of me knows why Chris fell in love
with you.

That makes me hate her worse.  She teases me, you know.  Cindy would
like to creep under my skin and make me do something as wicked as what
Chris does with you.  She strolls around in her bedroom wearing nothing
but bikini bra and bottoms.  And she knows I check her rooms before I
retire.  Tonight she had on a nightgown so transparent I could see
right through it.

She just stood there and let me stare.  Joel tells me she's nothing but
a whore."

"Then don'tgo to her bedroom I said with control.

"Lord knows we don't have to see anyone who lives here if we don't want
to--and Joel is a bigoted, narrow-minded fool.  All Cindy's generation
weays next-to-nothing undergarments.  But you're right, she shouldn't
parade around in them.  I'll speak to her about that in the morning.
You're sure she displayed herself deliberately?"

"You must have done the same thing," he said, dully accusing.

"All those years locked up with Chris--did you show him your
body--deliberately?"

How could I tell him how it had been and make him understand?  He'd
never understand.

"We all tried to be decent, Bart.  It's so long ago and I don't like to
remember.  I try to forget.  I want to think that Chris is my husband
and not my brother.  We can't have children, never could.  Doesn't that
make it better--a little better?"

Shaking his head, his eyes darkened.

"Go away.  You just give me excuses, and you bring it all back/ the
sickness I used to feel when I found out about you and him.  I was just
a kid wanting to feel clean and wholesome.  I still want to feel that
way.  That's why I keep showering, shaving, picking up, ordering
servants to scrub, vacuum, dust and dust, and I every day.  I'm trying
to eliminate the dirt you!

Chris put in my life--and / can't do it!"

There was no comfort in Chris's arms as I trie sleep.  I drifted into
an uneasy dream.  Then I tx awake to hear distant screams.  Leaving ray
bed for second time in the same night, Iraced toward screams.

Disoriented, I stared down at Melodic on the no the long corridor. She
seemed to be wearing a nightgown with ragged red stripes.  She crawled
al moaning, causing me to think I was still dreaming.

long hair was in damp disarray, her brow drq sweat--and behind her was
a trail of blood!  ;

Blindly she stared up at me, imploring.

"Cathy, baby is coming ..."  She screamed, then slowly, sty her
pleading eyes went blank before she keeled I in a dead faint.  ;

Iran for Chris, shaking him awake.

"It's Melodw cried as he sat up and rubbed at his tired eyes.

"She labor.  Right now she's fainted, lying face down iff hall with a
trail of blood behind her ..."

"Take it easy," he soothed, leaping out of bed | pulling on his
bathrobe.

"First babies are notoriol slow in arriving."  Nevertheless there was a
lool" anxiety in his eyes, as if he were mentally calculai just how
long Melodic had been in labor.

"I've everything I'll need in my bag," he said as herus about gathering
up blankets, clean sheets, towels."!

still had the same black doctor's bag they'd given N when he graduated
from medical school, as if that 1 were sacred to him.

"No time to get her to the hospital if she's hemorrhaging like you say.
Now all you have do is rush down to the kitchen and put on all that I
water all doctors in the movies seem to need."

I yelled impatiently, thinking he just wanted me c of his way.

"We're not in the movies, Chris!"

; We were in the hall now, and he was bending over j^elodie.

"I know that--it would help if you did something except run beside me
and act hysterical.

Isfow move aside, Catherine," he barked as he leaned to pick Melodic
up.  In his amis she seemed to weigh no I more than a feather, white
her middle seemed a I giountain high.

| In her room he stuffed pillows under her hips, asked I for more white
towels, sheets, newspapers, even as he I glared at me.

"Move, Catherine, move!  From the s: position of the baby, its head is
down and if already | well on its way.  RUN!  I do have to sterilize a
few I instruments.  Damn her for not speaking up and telling me she'd
started her contractions early.  White we were opening our gifts, she
just sat there and said nothing.

What the heff is wrong with everybody in this house?

All she had to do was speak up and say something!"  Even before he
finished muttering all this, as if to himself more than to me, I fled
down the long dim halls, dashed recklessly down the back stairs closest
to the kitchen.  I drew hot water from the tap, put the kettle on to
boil.  Anxiously I waited, thinking Melodic enjoyed pity and wanted to
punish us, and perhaps even wanted her baby to die so she could go back
to New York unencumbered by a crippled husband and a fatherless
child.

A watched pot takes so long to boil.  A thousand thoughts went through
my mind, ugly thoughts as I peered into the water to see the slightest
roll.  What was Chris doing?  Should I waken Jory and tell him what was
going on?  Why had Melodic done this?  Was she in some ways like
Bart--inflicting punishment on herself for her sins?  Finally, after
what Seemed an hour, the water began to bubble, then roll furiously.
With steam pouring from the spout, I sprinted up the stairs and down
more endless halls until I came to Melodie's bedroom.

Chris had arranged Melodic so she was sitting up, backed with many
pillows.  Her knees were shoved upward and held spread wide apart by _
to support them.  She was naked from the and I could see blood still
trickling from;

Feeling peculiar to see something like this, eyes on the pads of towels
and sheets he'd s newspapers to catch the blood.

"I can') bleeding," he said in a worried way.

"Sd think the baby might swallow some."  He t glance.

"Cathy, put on that extra pair of rul and use the calipers you see in
my bag to < instrument I've laid out into that boiling water

you to hand me what I need when I ask for it;

I nodded, terribly afraid I wouldn't re men instrument names, when it
had been so lo before he'd even graduated from medical schc "Wake up,
Melodie," he said over and over your help."  Lightly he slapped her
face.

"Cath| washcloth in cold water.  Wipe her face wit hi bring her around
so she Can bear down and hef the baby out."

The cold cloth on her head brought Melodie 1 reality filled with pain.
Right away she be^ scream, to try and shove Chris away, to pull thel
over herself.

"Don't fight me," said Chris in a fa way.

"Your baby is almost here, Melodie, but you| to bear down and take deep
breaths, and I can't what I'm doing if you cover yourself."  ;

Still screaming in a jerky, spasmodic way, she trie obey Chris's orders
as the sweat streamed off her | and wet her hair and chest.  Her gown,
which shoved up to her waist, was soon sopping.

"Help i Cathy," ordered Chris, fiddling with what I thoi were forceps.
I put my hands where he told me bore down.

"Please, darling," I whispered when she stop?

yelling long enough to hear me, "you have to be!

Right now your baby is struggling to survive and % out."

j eyes fraught with pain and fear struggled to 'leality.

"I'm dying!"  she yelled before she d her eyes shut, pulled in a deep
breath and ^with oiy hands assisting the shove, bore down Bore
determination.

"1're doing fine.  Melodic," encouraged Chris.

another hard shove and I should be able to see of of your baby's head."
Sweating, holding on to ^ bands and squinting her eyes even tighter.
Melodic lone last mighty effort.

Inc .  you're doing fine!  I can see the top of the f's head," said
Chris in a happier tone, throwing me >k of pride.  At that moment
Melodie's head fell to and her eyes closed.

She'd fainted again.

"It's aH right," said Chris, ndng at her face.

"She's done a good job, and 1 can i my part now.  She's through the
worst part and can it.  I was thinking I'd have to use forceps, but it
won'tnecessary."  :"..  : 1--^ , ^.^' :. -. '. With confident, kind
hands, he carefully slid his hand iside the birth canal and somehow
drew out a very tan all baby and handed h to me: I held the tiny,
slimy, tied baby andstareddown in awe atlory'sson.  Oh, how perfect
this miniature little boy who Sailed the air with his tiny fists and
kicked with incredibly small feet, and screwed his apple-sized face
into a knot as he prepared to let go with a howl as Chris tied off and
severed the umbilical cord.  Thrills that felt cold made my spine
shiver.  Out of the joining of my son with his wife came this
perfectottle grandson who had already seized my heart even before he
cried.  With tears in my eyes, my heart beating joyously for Jory, who
would be so happy, I glanced up to see Chris working over Melodic and
drawing from her what must be the afterbirth.

Again, 1 stared down at the crying, doll-sized, slimy infant that
seemed to weigh less than four pounds.  A child born from the passion
and beauty of the ballet world .. born on the music that must have
played when he was conceived.  I hugged the child to i thinking this
was God's finest miracle, more than a tree, more lasting than a rose, a
hurnai His likeness.  Tears Bowed down my cheeks, God's son, this child
was born almost on day.  My grandson!

"Chris, he's so little.  Will:

"Absolutely," he said in an absorbed, a!

tone as he continued to work over Melodic, with some perplexity.

"How about using the m and weighing him in.  Then, if you would, gr
nice bath in tepid water.  He'll begin to 6 better.  Use the solution I
mixed and put in a t to wash out his eyes, and use the solution in bowl
to dean his mouth and ears.  There sl diapers and receiving blankets
around her where.  He needs to be kept very warm."

"In her suitcase," I called out as I hurried adjacent bath and held the
little boy in the cnu arm and began filling a pink plastic basin.

"P

she's had baby things packed and ready."

I was excited, feeling exalted, wishing now to Jory and given him the
chance to see his chil sighed then, thinking this would be his one i
child.  The chances were very slim that he cou another.  How lucky he
was to be blessed with boy.  The baby I held was so frail, with just a
fuzz making the top of his small head softly hazy.  & hands and
incredibly small feet nailed the chill;

rosebud mouth worked in sucking motions ev tried to open eyes that
seemed glued together.

all the slime of childbirth smeared on his red heart went out to him.

Beautiful little baby.  Dear, sweet little boy my Jory happy.  I wanted
to see the color of but he kept them tightly closed.

I was nervous, as if I'd never had a new hoi own, and in a way, I
hadn't.  This baby was so i ate looking.  My two had been full term
and had en cared for by experienced nurses immediately after _jir
birth.

'"Wrap him op tight," reminded Chris from the other oom.

"Be sue to run your finger around in his mouth q take out any blood
clots or mucous you'll find.

(ewboms can choke on what's in their mouths."

The baby's cries were distraught over the loss of the inn, familiar
fluid of the womb, but as soon as I ntly eased him into the warm water,
he stopped ying and seemed to fan asleep.  This little babe was so w,
so raw looking that he seemed pitiful as I did what iad to.  Even
asleep his tiny, doll-like hands reached 9 find his mother and her
breasts.  His tiny penis stood traight up as I poured warm water over
his genitals.

'hen, to my astonishment, I heard another baby cry!

Quickly wrapping my clean little grandson in a thick thite towel, I
hurried into the bedroom to see Chris faring down at a second child.

Chris looked up with the strangest expression.

"A

rl," he said softly.

"Blond hair, blue eyes.  I talked to ;r obstetrician myself, and he
didn't mention anything out hearing two heartbeats.  Sometimes that
happens cause one child is behind the other .. . but how odd at not
once " He broke off before he changed the bject and continued.

"Twins are usually smaller than her babies, and their small size, plus
the weight of the cond bearing down, helps the first come quicker than
single birth usually.  Melodic was lucky this ne..."

"Ohhh," I breathed, taking the smaH girl into my ie arm and gazing down
at her.  I knew immediately 10 they were.  Carrie and Cory born all
over again!

| "Chris, how fantastically marvelous!"  I laughed, |hen saddened as I
thought of my beloved twin brother and sister, now dead for so long.
Still I could see them behind my eyes, racing through the backyard
garden in Gladstone; running through the pitiful attic garden of paper
flora and fauna.

"The same twins.

gangers."

Chris looked up, his rubber-gloved ham bloody.

"No, Cathy," he stated firmly, "not gangers.  These are not the same
twins bon Remember that.  Carrie came first then; this 1 boy was first.
This is not an unlucky, doomc children.  These two will have only the
bes would you please stop staring and get busy?  Sl a bath, too.  And
diaper that boy before hi everything."

Handling such slippery tiny babies wasn't at Still, I managed, feeling
overwhelmingly nap spite what Chris had said, I knew who the;

were--Oory and Carrie, reborn to Kve the wonderful lives that were
their due, the hap stolen from them by greed and selfishness.

"Don't you worry," I whispered as I lass small red cheek and then their
sweet tiny ha feet.

"Your grandmother will see that you're ha matter what I have to do, you
two are going everything that Carrie and Cory didn't."

I glanced toward the bedroom where Meli spent, just pulling out of her
feint.

Chris called in to say he thought Melodic coi nice sponge bath now,
before he strode i bathroom to take both babies from me.  He sen to
tend to the new mother white he gave the i twins a more complete
inspection.

As I bathed Melodic and then slipped a fire gown over her head, she
awakened to stare at blank, disinterested eyes.

"Is it over?"  she asl weak, weary way.  I picked up her hairbrush a to
work to unsnarl her damp, stringy hair.

"Yes, darling, it's over.  You have delivered.

"What is it?  A boy?"  There was hope in her first I'd seen in many a
day.

"Yes, darling, a boy ... and a girl.  You h given birth to beautiful,
perfect twins."

284.

Her eyes grew huge, dark, full of anxieties so numeris she seemed
about to faint again.

"They are perfect, with everything where it's sup)$ed to be."

She stared at me until I hurried to show her the has.  She stared with
the look of utmost amazement fore she smiled faintly.

"Oh, they're cute ... but I ought they'd be dark like Jory."

I placed the two babies in her arms.  She gazed down them as if all
this was totally unreal.

"Two," she hispered weakly again and again, "two!"  Her eyes fed
somewhere in space.

"Two.  I used to tell Jory e'd stop having children when we had two.  I
wanted a )yand a girl ... but not twins.  Now I have to be both other
and father to two!  Twins!  It's not fair, not fair'" Gently I smoothed
back her hair.

"Darling, this is od's way of blessing both you and Jory.  He has
slivered to you the complete family you wanted, and >u won't have to go
through dm again.  And you're )t alone in dm; we'll do all we can to
help you.  We'll re nurses, maids, the best.  Neither you nor they will
ck for anything."

Hope came to her eyes before she closed them.

"I'm red, Cathy, so tired.  I guess it is nice to have both a )y and a
giri, now that Jory can't make more.  I just pc this will make up for a
little that he's lost... and t'll be pleased."

With those words she fell into deep steep, even as I lished brushing
her hair.  Once her hair had been so vely; now it was dull, lifeless.
I'd have to shampoo it store Jory saw her.  When next Jory saw his
wife, he'd e again the lovely giri he'd married.

For I was going to reunite this pair if it was die lasting I did.

Chris stepped up beside me and took the twins from ?r arms.

"Leave now, Cathy.  She's exhausted and ds a long rest.  Time to
shampoo tomorrow."

"Did I say that aloud?  I was only thinking about it" He laughed.

"You did only think it, but you were also fingering her hair, and in
your eyes your thoa shone clearly.  I know how you feel about clean h
the remedy for all depressions."

Kissing him first and hugging him tight, I left with Melodic, then went
to shake Jory awake.  He) back from dreams, rubbing at his eyes,
squinting a:

"What's up now?  More trouble?"

"No trouble this time, darling."  I stood and gri at him until he must
have thought I'd lost my mint looked so perplexed as he shoved: himself
up a elbows.

"I have belated Christmas gifts for you,.

my love."  He shook his head in a bewildered wa;

"Mom, couldn't that gift have waited until a ing?"

"No, not this one.  You're a father, Jory!"  I lau and hugged him
again.

"Oh, Jory, God is kind.

member when you and Melodic planned your f a you said you wanted two
children, first a boy, tt giri?  Well, as a special gift, sent straight
from He* you have twins!  A boy, a girl!"

Tears flooded his eyes.  He choked out his concern.

"How is Mel?"

"Chris is in there now, taking care of her.  You ever since the wee
hours of yesterday, Melodie w labor and she didn't say a word."

"Why?"  he bemoaned, his hands covering his "Why, when Dad was here all
the time and he t have helped?"

"I don't know, son, but let's not think about She'll be fine, just
fine.  He says she won't even no go to the hospital, although he does
want to drivi twins in for a checkup just to be safe.  Such tiny b;

need more care than full-term ones.  And he also s;

wouldn't hurt if Melodie had the attention o obstetrician.  He had to
cut her, an episiotomy he c it Without the surgery she would have torn.
He s< her up nicely, but it hurts, Jory, until the stitches ( out.  No
doubt he'll bring them and her back the;

day."

"God is good.  Mom," he whispered hoarsely, swiping at the tears as he
tried to smile.

"I can't wait to see them- It will take me too much time to get up and
go to them will you bring them here to me?"

First he had to sit up to be ready to receive the twins into his arms.
I turned to look at him from the doorway, thinking I'd never seen a
happier-looking man.

During my absence, Chris had fashioned cribs out of two drawers pulled
open and lined with soft blankets.

He immediately wanted to know how Jory took my news and smiled when he
heard of Jory's delight.

Tenderly he put both babies in my arms.

"Walk carefully my love," he whispered before he kissed me.  Then I was
hurrying back to my eldest son with his firstborn.

He received them as tender gifts to cherish forever, staring down with
pride and love at the children he'd created.

"They look so much like Cory and Carrie did," I said softly in the warm
glow of his dimly lit room.

"So beautiful, even if they are very small.  Have you thought about
names?"

He Hushed and continued to admire the babies in his arms.

"Sure, I've got names all ready, although Mel foiled to tell me there
was a chance of twins.  This makes up for so much."  He looked up, his
eyes shining with hope.

"Mom, all the time you've been saying Mel would change after the baby
came.  I can't wait to see her, to hold her in my arms again."

That's when he paused and blushed.

"Well, at least we can sleep together, if nothing more."

"Jory, you'll find ways ..."

He went on as if he hadn't heard.

"We constructed our lives around a plan, thinking we'd dance until I
was forty, and then we'd both go into teaching or choreography.  We
didn't include the chance of accidents, or sudden tragedies, no more
than your parents did, and on the whole, I think my wife has held up
rather well."

He was being kind, overiy generous!  Melodic had been his brother's
lover, but perhaps he didn't want it believe that.

Or, more likely, he understood her need and ban already forgiven not
only Melodic but Bart as well Reluctantly Jory allowed me to take the
twins away.

In Melodie's room, Chris said, "I'm taking Melodii and the twins to the
hospital.  I'll be back as soon a possible.  I'd like another doctor to
check Melodie over and, of course, the twins need to be put in
incubator until they weigh five pounds.  The boy weighs thra pounds
thirteen ounces and the girl three pounds sevei ounces but nice healthy
babies, even so.  ' "In your heart you'll fit the new twins and love
thea just as much as you did Cory and Carrie."  How did b know each
time I looked at those small babies, vision of "our" twins came to
haunt me?

Glowing, Jory was at the breakfast table seater beside Bart when I
entered our sunny room saved fo special mornings.  The plates were
bright red on a whit tablecloth, and a bowl of fresh holly was the
center piece.  Pbinsettias were everywhere, both red aw white.

"Good morning.  Mom," said Jory as he met my eyes "I'm a very happy man
today .. and I saved my new to tell Bart until you and Cindy and Dad
arrived."

Small happy smiles played about Jory's mouth.  Hi bright eyes pleaded
with me not to hold anger, as one Cindy stumbled in, all sleepy and
tousled looking, Jor;

proudly announced that he was now the father of twins both a girl and
boy whom he and Melodie had decide to name Darren and Deirdre.

"Once there were C named twins.  We're following precedent a little, bu
traveling further through the alphabet."

The frown on Bart's face was envious, scornful, too "Twins, twice the
trouble as one.  Poor Melodie, n< wonder she grew so huge.  What a
pain--as if she didn' have enough problems."

Cindy let out a squeal of delight.

"Twins?  Really'

How wonderful!  Can I see them now?  Can I hold them?"

But Jbry was still bristling from Bart's cruel remark.

"Don't count me out, Bart, just because I'm down.  Mel and I have no
problems we can't overcome once we're gone from this place."

Bart got up and left his breakfast uneaten.

Jory and Melodie were going to leave and take the twins with them?  My
heart sank.  My hands on my lap worked nervously.

I didn't see the hand that took mine and pressured my fingers.

"Mom, don't look so sad.  We'd never cut you or Dad out of our lives.
Where you go, we'll go only we can't stay on here if Bart doesn't start
acting differently.  When you need to see your grand children, all you
have to do is yell or whisper."

Around ten Chris drove home with Melodie, who was put immediately to
bed.

"She's fine now, Jory.  We would have liked to keep her in the hospital
for a few days, but she made such a fuss that I brought her back.

We left the twins in the nursery, put in separate incubators until they
gain weight."

Chris leaned to kiss my cheek, then beamed brightly.

"See, Cathy.  I told you everything would work out fine.  And I do like
those names you and Melodie chose, Jory.  Really fine names."

Soon I carried a tray up to Melodic, who was out of bed and staring out
of a window at the snow.  She began to speak immediately.

"I'm thinking of when I was a child and how much I wanted to see snow,"
she said dreamily, as if babies out of sight were also out of mind.

"I always wanted a white Christmas away from New York.  Now I have a
white Christmas, and nothing has changed.  No magic to give Jory back
the use of his legs."

She went on in that strange, dreamlike way that frightened me.

"How am I going to manage with two babies?  How?  One at a time was the
way I planned it.

And Jory won't be any help ..."

"Didn't I say we'd help?"  I said with some irritatiol for it seemed
Melodic was determined to feel sorry fe herself no matter what.  Then I
understood, for Bai stood in the open doorway.

His unsmiling face showed no expression.

"Congrai illations.  Melodic," he said calmly.

"Cindy made m drive her to the hospital to see your twins.  They'i
very... very .. ."  He hesitated and finished"smaB."

He left.

Melodic stared vacantly at the place where he' stood.

Later Chris drove Jory, Cindy and me to the hospiti to again look at
the twins.  Melodic was left in her bed deeply asleep and looking very
worn.  Cindy too another look at the tiny babies in their little
glassed-i cages.

"Oh, aren't they adorable?  Jory, how proud yoi must feel.  I'm going
to make the best aunt, you jffi waft and see.  I can't wait to hold
them in my arms."  Sh was behind his chair, leaning over to hug him.

"You'v been such a special brother ... thank you for that."

Soon we were home again, and Melodic was asking weakly about her
children, then falling asleep as soo as she knew they were fine.  The
day wore on withoo guests who dropped in, without the telephone ringin
with friends to congratulate Jory on becoming a fathci How lonely it
was on this mountainside.

Shadows Fade Away

Miserable winter days slipped by, filled with myriad trivial details.
We'd gone to a party on New Year's Eve.

taking Cindy and Jory with us.  Cindy finally had her chance to meet
all the young men in the area.  She'd been an overwhelming hit.  Bart
had failed to join us, thinking he'd have a better time in an exclusive
men's club he'd joined.

"It's not a club for only men," whispered Cindy, who thought she had
all the answers.

"He's going to some cathouse."

"Don't you ever say anything Like that again!"  I reprimanded.

"What Bart does is his own business.

Where do you hear such gossip?"

At that New Year's Eve party a few of the guests that Bart had invited
to his party had showed up, and soon enough I was tactfully finding out
if they'd received Bart's invitation.  No, everyone said, though they
stared at Chris and me, then at Jory in his chair, as if they had many
secret thoughts they'd never speak.

"Mother, I don't believe you," said Bart coldly when I told him the
guests I'd met hadn't received his invitations.

"You hate Joel, you see only Malcolm in him, and therefore you want to
undermine my faith in a good and pious old man.  He's sworn to me he
did mail off the invitations, and I believe him."

"And you don't believe me?"

He shrugged.

"People are tricky.  Maybe those you talked to only wanted to appear
polite."

Cindy left for school the second of January, eager to escape the
boredom of what she considered Hell on earth.  She'd finish high
school this spring and had intentions of going on to college as Chris
had tnei persuade her.

"Even an actress needs culture."  But it had worked.  Our Cindy was
just as stubborn in her own as Carrie had been in hers.

Melodic was quiet, moody and melancholy, and tediously boring to be
around that everyone avoi her.  She resented caring for the small
babies I thought would give her pleasure and something me ingful to do.
Soon we had to hire a nurse.  Melodic < did very little to help with
Jory, so I did for him wha couldn't do for himself.

Chris had his work that kept him happy and a' until Fridays around four
when he'd come in the d< much as Daddy had once returned to us on
Frid;

Time repeating itself.  Chris was in his own busy we we on the
mountainside stayed put in ours.  Chris ci and went, looking fresh,
breezy, confident and o' joyed to be with us on the weekends.  He
brushed a:

problems as if they were lint not worth noticing.

We in Fbxworth Hall stayed, never going anywti now that Jory didn't
want to leave die security of wonderful rooms.

Soon it would be Jory's thirtieth birthday.  We'd h to do something
special.  Then it came to me.  I'd in all the members of his New York
ballet company come to his party.  First, of course, I'd have to dis<
this with Bart.  ' He swiveted his office desk chair away from
computer.

"No!  I don't want a group of dancers in house!  I'm not ever going to
throw another party.

waste my good money on people I don't even wan know.  Do something else
for him--but don't in' them."  -' .  --.  - '. ; " -' : ' "But Bart,
once I heard you say you'd like to have ballet company entertain at
your parties."

"Not now.  I've changed.  Besides, I've never really approved of
dancers.  Never have, never wiB.  This is the Lord's house ... and in
the spring a temple of worship will be raised to celebrate his rule
over all of us."

"What do you mean, a temple will be raised?"

He grinned before he turned his attention back to the computer.

"A chapel so near you can't avoid it, Mother.  Won't that be nice?
Every Sunday we'll rise early to attend services.  AH of us."

"And who will be on the podium delivering those sermons?  You?"

"No, Mother, not me.  As yet I am not washed clean of my sins.  My
uncle will be the minister.  He is a very saintly, righteous man."

"Chris enjoys sleeping late on Sunday mornings, and so do I," I said
despite my will to always keep mm placated.

"We like to eat breakfast in bed, and in the summers, the bedroom
balcony is the perfect place to start off a happy day.  As for Jory and
Melodic, you should discuss the subject with them."

"I already have.  They will do as I say."

"Bart..  . Jory's birthday is the fourteenth.  Remember, he was born on
Valentine's Day."

Again he looked at me.

"Isn't it weird and meaningful that babies come often to our family on
holidays-or very near them?  Uncle Joel says it means something
--something significant."

"Nodoubt!"  I flared.

"DearJod thinks everything is significant--and offensive in the eyes of
his God.  It's as if he not only owns God but controls him as well!"  I
whirled to confront Joel, who was never more than ten feet away from
Bart.  I shouted because for some reason he made me afraid.

"Stop filling my son's head with crazy notions, foel!"

"I don't have to fin his head with those kind of notions, dear niece.
You established his brain patterns long before be was born.  Chit of
hatred came the child.

And out of need comes the angel of salvation.  Thil that before you
condemn me."

One morning the headlines of the local paper to a family who'd gone
bankrupt.  A notable family my mother had often mentioned.  I read the
de folded the newspaper and stared thoughtfully b< me.  Had Bart had
anything to do with that a fortune suddenly disappearing?  He'd been
one a guests who hadn't shown up.  , Another day the newspaper told of
a father killed his wife and two children because he'd pw main part of
his savings into the commodity ma and wheat had dropped drastically in
price.  There another of Bart's enemies--once an invited gue that
unhappy Christmas ball.  But if so, how was manipulating the markets,
the bankruptcy?  ' "I know nothing about any of that!"  flared Bart ^ I
questioned.

"Those people dig their own graves their greed.  Who do you think I am.
God?  I said of things Christmas night, but I'm not quite as ( as you
think.  I have no intention of putting soul in jeopardy.  Fools always
manage to trip tl selves."

We celebrated Jory's birthday with a family pi Cindy flew home to stay
two days, happy to celet with Jbry.  Her suitcases were full of gifts
meant to!

him busy.

"When I meet a man like you, Jory, going to grab him so quickly!  I'm
just waiting to s any other man is half as wonderful.  So far L
Spalding hasn't proved to be half the man you an "And how would you
know?"  joked Jory, who not heard the details of Lance's sudden
departure flashed his wife a hard look as she held Darren a held
Deirdre.  We were both supporting nursing go as we sat before the cozy
log fire.  The babies gave c us reasons for feeling the future held
great pro mi

rtiink even Bart was fascinated with how swiftly they grew, how sweet
and cuddly they felt when on a few occasions he held them for several
uncomfortable seconds.  He'd looked at me with a certain pride.

Melodic put Darren in the large cradle Chris had found in an antique
Shop and had refinished so it looked almost new.  With one foot she
rocked die baby as she glared hard at Bart before once again gazing
pensively into the roaring fire.  Seldom did she speak, and she showed
no real interest in her children.  Only negligently did she pick them
up, as if for show, as she showed no interest in any one of us, or
anything we did.

Jory shopped by man for gifts that were delivered almost daily to
surprise her.  She'd open each box, [' faintly smile and say a weak
thank you, and sometimes I she even put the package down unopened,
thanking I Jory without even looking his way.  It pained me to see him
wince, or bow his head to hide his expression.  He I was trying--why
couldn't she try?

| Each passing day saw Melodic withdrawing not only from her husband
but, much to my amazement, also from her children.  Hers was an
indecisive love, without strong commitment, like the frail flutterings
of moth wings beating at the candle flame of motherly love.  I was the
one who got up in the middle of the night to feed them.  I was the one
who paced the floor and tried to change two diapers at once, and it was
I who raced down to the kitchen to mix their formula and held them on
my shoulder for burping, I who took the time and trouble to rock them
to sleep as I sang soft lullabies while their huge blue eyes stared up
at me with fascination until they grew sleepy and with great reluctance
closed their eyes.  Often I could tell they were still listening from
their small, pleased smiles.  It filled me with joy to see them growing
more and more like Cory and Carrie.

If we lived isolated from society, we did not live isolated from the
malicious rumors that the sen brought home with them from the local
stores.  Of!

overheard their whispers as they chopped onions, g peppers, and made
the pies and cakes and o desserts we all loved to eat.  I knew our
maids ling too long in back halls and deliberately made beds when we
were still upstairs.  Thinking we i alone, we'd let out many secrets
for them to feed t gossip.

Much of what they speculated on I speculated o well.  Bart was so
seldom home, and sometimes I grateful for that.  With him out of the
house, there no one to create arguments; Joel stayed in his room
prayed, or so I presumed..

It came to me one morning that maybe I shouk the servants' tricks and
hang out near the kitchen and when I did, our cook and maids filled my
ears1 knowledge gained from those in the village.  ^ according to them,
was having many affairs with prettiest and richest society ladies, both
married unmarried.  Already he'd ruined one marriage that happened to
be one of the couples that had been 01 Christmas guest list.  Also,
according to what I o heard, Bart often visited a brothel ten miles
away, within any city's limits.

I had evidence that some of those tales migh1 true.  Often I Saw him
come home drunk and in n happy moods that made me wish, regretfully,:

bed stay drunk.  Only then could he smile and la easily.

One day I had to ask.

"What are you doing all tt nights you stay out so late?"

He giggled easily when he drank too much;

giggled now.

"Uncle Joel says the best evangelists!

been the worst sinners; he says you have to roll in gutter filth to
know what it's like to be clean, saved."

"And that's what you're doing all those nig roBing in the gutter
filth?"

"Yes, Mother darling--for damned if I know what it's like to feel
clean, or saved

Spring approached cautiously like a timid bluebird.

Blustery cold winds softened to warm southern breezes.

The sky turned that certain shade of blue that made me feel young and
hopeful.  I was often out in the gardens raking leaves and pulling up
weeds that the gardeners overlooked.

I couldn't wait to see the crocus peek from the ground in the woods,
couldn't wait to see the tulips and daffodils and watch pink and white
dogwood blossoms spring forth.  Couldn't wait for the azaleas
everywhere to make my life a fairyland of many delights, for the twins,
for all of us.  I'd look up and admire the wonder of the trees that
never seemed depressed or lonely.

Nature--how much we could learn if only we would.

I took Jbry with me as far as he could easily guide his sturdy electric
chair with the huge balloon wheels that climbed most gradual grades.

"We've got to find a better way to get you deeper into the woods," I
said thoughtfully.

"Now, if we laid flagstones everywhere, they'd be very lovely, but if
they freeze in the winter they'd poke up and could possibly snag your
chair and tip you over.  As much as I hate cement, we'll have to use
that or blacktop.  Somehow I like blacktop better, what about you?"

He laughed at my silliness.

"Red bricks.  Mom.  Brick walks are so colorful, and besides, this
chair of mine is a real marvel."  He looked around, smiling with
pleasure, then tilted his face so the sun could warm it.

"I only wish Mel would accept what's happened to me and show more
interest in the twins."

What could I say to that, when already I'd had it out with Melodie more
than a dozen times, and the more I said the more resentful she grew.

"This is MY life, Cathy!"  she'd shouted.

"MY LIFE--not ywusl" Screaming at me, her face a red mask of fury.

Jory's physical therapist showed Jory how to tower himself to the
ground without so much effort, am he taught Jory how to get back into
his chair w assistance.  And all so Jory could help me plant rose
bushes.  His strong hands used the trowel better than mine.

The gardeners eagerly taught Jory how to prui shrubbery, when to
fertilize, how to mulch and what.  He and I made gardening not just a
hobby life-style to save us both from going crazy.  The j house was
enlarged so we could grow exotic fk and in there we had a world of our
own to centre of its own kind of quiet excitement.  But it i enough for
Jory, who decided he had to stay in th in one form or another.

"Dad is not the only one in this family who can a hazy sky and make you
feel the humidity, or dewdrop on a painted rose so real you can smell i
said to me with a broad smite.

"I'm growing artist.  Mom."

Even with Melodic in the same house, Jor making a life without her.  He
fashioned slings chair mat fitted over his shoulder so he could car
twins with him.  His delight to see them smile wnei saw him coming
touched my heart, just as it Melodie from the nursery.

"They love me now, ] It's in their eyes!"

They knew Jory better than they knew their n They gave her void and
somehow pitifully b( smiles, perhaps because her expression was so and
thoughtful when she stared at them.

Yes, the twins not only loved and knew who was father, they also
trusted him fully.  When he react pick them up, they didn't flinch or
fear he'd drop' They laughed as if they knew he'd never, never them.

I found Melodic sulking in her room, realty thin her once beautiful
hair dull and stringy.

"It takes Melodie, to develop motherly instincts," I said a;

down unasked and, apparently, unwanted.

"You me and the maids to wait upon them too much.  They don't
recognize you as their mother when you stay away.  The day you see
their small faces light up when you come in, and they smile from the
happiness they feel to see you, their mother, you'll find the love
you're searching for.  Your heart will melt.  Their needs will give you
something nothing else can, and never again with you feel anything but
an all-encompassing love for your children, when they love you, and you
love them."

Her faint smile flashed bittersweet and was quickly gone.

"When do you give me the chance to mother my children, Cathy?  When I
get up in the night, you are already there.  When I rise early, you've
already bathed and dressed them.  They don't need a mother when they
have a grandmother like you."

I was stunned by her unfair attack.  Often I lay on my ; bed and heard
the twins cry and cry before I got up to tend to their needs.  In
torment while I waited and waited for Melodic to go to them.  What was
I supposed to do, ignore their cries?  I gave her time enough.  Her
room was across the hall from theirs, and mine was in another wing.

; She apparently saw my thoughts, for her voice came 'almost like the
hiss of a venemous snake.

"You always | come out on top, don't you, mother-in-law?  You always I
manage to get what you want, but there's one thing you I will never
get, and that's Bart's love and respect.  When I he loved me--and once
he did love me--he told me he hated you, really despised you.  I felt
sorry for him then, and sorrier for you.  Now I understand why he feels
as he does.  For with a mother like you, Jory j doesn't need a wife
like me."

The next day was Thursday.  I felt heavy-hearted to , ttink of all the
ugly words Melodic had screamed and | Ussed at me yesterday.  I sighed,
sat up and swung my I fegs off the bed, slipping my feet into satin
mules.  A I busy day ahead since this was the day all our servants but
Trevor had off.  On Thursdays I was like Mo had been, preparing myself
for Friday, coming aBve only when the man I loved strolled through
door.

Jory was quietly sobbing when I entered his i with the freshly bathed
and diapered twins held o each of my arms.  In his hands he loosely
held a en long sheet of stationery.

"Read this," he choked, putting the paper 01 table beside his chair
before he reached for his dren.  When he had them both in his arms, he
bowe face into the soft hair of his son, then his daugt hair.

I picked up the creamy sheets; always bad new cream-colored paper came
from Racworth Hall.

My dearest darling Jory, I'm a coward.  I've always known that, a hoped
you'd never find out.  You were always t one with all the strength.  I
love you, and no doi will always love you, but I can't live with a m
who can never make love to me again.

I look at you in that horrible chair that you' grown to accept, when I
cannot accept it, or ye handicap.  Your parents came to my room a
confronted me and urged me to face up to you a say everything I feel.
I'm unable to do that, for i do, you might say or do something that woi
change my mind, and Fve got to leave, or lose i mind.

You see, my love, I already feel half insane frc being in this house,
this horrible, hateful hoi with all its deceiving beauty.  I lie on my
lonely b and dream of the ballet.  I hear the music playi even when it
isn't.  I've got to go back to when can hear it play, and if that is
ugly and selfish, a know it is, forgive me, if you can.

Say kind things about me to our children wb they are old enough to ask
questions about thi

mother.  Say those nice words even if they aren't true, for I know
I've failed you just as much as I've failed them.  I've given you every
reason to hate me, but please don't remember me with hate.

Remember me as I used to be when we were younger, and very much in
control of our lives Don blame yourself for anything, or blame anyone
else for what I have to do.  Everything is my own fault.  You see, I'm
not real, I never was, and I never will be.  I can't face up to the
kind of cruel reality that destroys lives and leaves behind broken
dreams.  Then, too, remember this: I'm the fantasy you helped create
out of your desire and ray own.

So farewell, my love, my first and sweetest love, and sadly perhaps my
only true love.  Find someone rare like your mother who can take my
place.

She's the one who gave you the ability to cope with reality, no matter
how harsh.

God would have been kind if he had given me your kind of mother.

Yours regretfully, Mel

The note fell from my hand, fluttering its pathetic certain way to the
carpet.  Both Jory and I stared at it lying there, so sad--and so
final, "It's over, Mom," he said tonelessly, his voice deep and
gruff.

"What began when I was twelve and she was eleven, all over.  I built my
life around her, thinking she'd last until we were old.  I gave her the
best L had to offer, and still it wasn't enough once the glamour was
gone."

How could I tell him that Melodic wouldn't have lasted even if he was
still on stage dancing.  Something in her resented his strength, his
innate ability to cope with situations beyond her ability to
comprehend.

I shook my head.  No.  I was being unfair.

"I'm sorry, fory, so terribly sorry."  I didn't say, perhaps you'll be
^tter off without her.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered, refusing to meet i eyes.

"What woman will want me now?"

Perhaps he would never perform sexually again in t normal way, and I
knew he needed someone in the b with him during all those long, lonely
nights.  I could t from his morning face that the nights were the woi
part of his life, leaving him feeling isolated, vulneral emotionally,
as well as physically helpless.  He was lime, needing arms to hold me
safe during the darknei wanting kisses on my face to put me to sleep,
to wa me up, to put over me a safe parasol of love.

"Last night I heard the wind blowing," he conf id to me as the twins
sat in their high chairs and smear their faces with warm, mushy
cereal.

"I woke upl thought I heard Mel breathing beside me, but there w
nothing.  I saw the birds happily building their neai heard them
chirping to greet the new day, and thei saw her note.  I knew without
reading what was in sid and I went on thinking about the birds, and all
thi love songs suddenly turned into only territorial rights His voice
broke again as he lowered his head to hide I face.

"I've heard that geese, once mated, never nu again, and I keep seeing
Melodic as the swan, loj forever, no matter what the circumstances."  ,
"Darling, I know, I know," I soothed, stroking 1 dark curls.

"But love can come again, you hold on that--and you're not alone."  ,
He nodded, saying, "Thanks for always being he when I need you.  Thank
Dad for me, too .. ."  ] Brusquely, fearing I'd cry as well, I put my
an about him.

"Jory, Melodie is gone, but she's left yi with a son and a daughter, be
grateful for that.  Becan she did leave you, that makes them all yours
now.  Sl walked out not only on you, but also on her w children.  You
can divorce her and use your strength?

help your children develop your own kind of cour ai and determination.
You'll manage without her.  Jot

 god as long as you need us, you have your parents' willing help."

And all the time I was thinking that Melodic had deliberately withdrawn
from her own children in order to make the break easier; she hadn't
allowed herself to love them, or them to love her.  Her parting gift of
love to her childhood sweetheart was his own children.

Jory brushed the tears from his eyes and tried to grin.

When he did it was full of irony.

..  . and I hope to God you had nothing to do with decision to go."

Angry, his face reddened.

"I went on a business I haven't said two words to Melodie since Christi
And as for as I'm concerned, it's good riddance."

In some ways it was better without Melodie al sitting around moodily,
shadowing the rooms with dreary depression.  I made it a practice to
visit Jory before bedtime, tucking him in, opening his wind dimming the
lights and seeing he had water when could reach it.  My kiss on his
cheek tried to substi for a wife's kiss.

Now that*Melodie was gone, I soon found out she had helped a little
just by getting up early once while to change and feed the babies.
She'd bothered to diaper them several times a day.

Often Bart drifted into the nursery, as if irresist drawn" and stared
down at the tiny twins, who learned how to smile and had found out to
their del that those waving shadowy things were their own and their own
small hands.  They reached for mobiles of pretty colorful birds,
struggled to pull tl down and put them in their mouths.

"They are kind of cute," Bart commented i musing way that pleased me,
even doing a little to 1 by handing me the baby oil and talcum.
Unfortunat just when the twins almost had him won over,.

strode into the nursery and scowled down at beautiful babies, and all
the kindness and sympt growing in Bart vanished completely, leaving
standing beside me looking guilty.

Joel gave the twins one hard, quick glance befon turned away his
offended eyes.

"Just like the first tw the evil ones," muttered Joel.

"Same blond hair I blue eyes ... no good will come of this pair eithe)
"What do you mean by that?"  Iraged.

"Cory.

Carrie never harmed anyone!  They were the ones < were harmed.  They
suffered what was inflicted on tt

by your own sister, mother and father, Joel.  Don't you ever dare to
forget that."

With silence Joel answered before he left the room, taking Bart with
him.

In mid-June, Cindy new home to stay the summer.

She made determined efforts to keep her rooms neater, banging up her
own clothes, which she used to drop on the floor.  She helped me by
changing the twins and holding their bottles as she rocked them to
sleep.  It was sweet to see her sitting in the rocker, a baby in the
crook of each arm, struggling to hold two bottles at the same time
while she wore baby doll pajamas, her lovely long legs bare and tucked
under her.  She seemed very much a child herself.  She bathed and
showered so often I thought she'd shrivel into a dried prune.

One evening she came from her luxurious bath and dressing room looking
radiantly fresh and alive, smelling like an exotic flower garden.

"I love twilight," she gushed, twirling around and around.

"Just adore strolling the woods when the moon is on the rise."

By this time we were all seated on our favorite terrace, sipping
drinks.  Bart pricked up his ears and glared at her.

"Who's waiting for you in the woods?"

"Not who, dear brother, but what."  She turned her head to smile at him
in an innocent, charming way.

"I'm going to be nice to you Bart, no matter how nasty you are to me.
I've decided I cannot win friends by tossing out rude and nasty
remarks."

He glared suspiciously.

"I still think you're meeting some boy in the woods."

"Thank you, brother Bart, for only thinking of punishing me with nasty
suspicions.  I expected more--and worse.  There's a boy in South
Carolina that I've fallen madly for, and he's a nature lover.  He's
taught me how to appreciate all that money can't buy.  I adore sunrises
and sunsets.  When rabbits run, I follow.

Together we catch rare butterflies and he mounts them.

We picnic is the woods, swim in the lakes.

not allowed to have a boyfriend here, I'm stand alone at the top of a
hill and try just down.  It's fan to challenge gravity and try not tgc|
breathless and out of control."

"By what name do you call gravity?  Bill, lot or Lance?"

"I'm not going to let you annoy me this ti said arrogantly.

"I like to stare up at the sky, i stars, find the constellations, watch
the m hide-and-seek.  Sometimes the man in the me at me, and I wink
back.  Dennis has taught met stand perfectly still and absorb the feel
of the?

Why, I'm seeing wonders I didn't even know because I'm in love--madly,
passionately, r insanely in love!"

Envy flashed through his dark eyes growled, "What about Lance Spalding?
I1 fete that way about him.  Or did I ruin his permanently so you can't
bear to look at him?";!

Cindy paled.

"Unlike you, Bart Foxworth, La beautiful inside and out, like Daddy,
and I do stil him, and Dennis, too."

"I

Bart's frown deepened.

"I know all about:

nature loving!  You want to sprawl on your back spread your legs for
some village idiot---and i I have it!"  I "What's going on here?" asked
Chris, appe dumbfounded to come hack from the telephone find all the
peace gone.  ?

Cindy jumped to her feet, took her stance an her hands on her hips. She
glared down into B face, struggling to hold fast to that adult contro
was determined to have with him.

"Why do you al presume the worst about me?  I just want to walk4
moonlight, and the village is ten mites away.  Wl pity you don't
understand what it's like to be hum Her answer and her glare seemed to
infuriate

, "You're not my sister, just a smart-ass Uttle bitch heat the same as
your mother!"

This time it was Chris who Jumped up from the table slapped Bart hard.
Bart drew back and raised his , as if ready to punch Chris in the jaw
when / ped to my feet and placed myself in front of Chris.

, don't you dare ever hit the man who's tried to be best father
possible!  If you do, Bart, you and I are ugh forever!"  That was
enough for him to turn his c, fiery eyes on me, So furious his look
could have __tedablaze.

l;"Why can't you see that little whore for what she is?

fou both see everything wrong about me, but you dose bur eyes to the
sins of your favorites!  She's nothing but (tramp, a goddamned tramp."
He froze, his eyes wide id startled.

He'd taken the Lord's name in vain.  He looked ound to see Joel, who
for once was out of sight and faring.

"You see.  Mother, what she does to me?  She irrupts and in my own
home, too."

Looking at Bart disapprovingly, Chris sat down i. Cindy disappeared
into the house.  I stared >mly after her, as Chris spoke harshly,
confronting' Can you see that Cindy is doing her best to ie you? She's
been trying since she came home to her utmost to appease you, but you
won't let her.

low can you take a stroll in these lonely woods as janything but
innocent?

"From now on, I want you to ,tee at her with respect for if you don't
you may well drive her into doing something rash.  Losing Melodic is
quite enough for one summer."

It was just as if Chris had no voice and Bart had no ears, from all the
effect those words had.  Chris ended by giving Bart an even harder look
and more reprimanding words before Chris stood and disappeared inside
the house.  I suspected he would follow Cindy upstairs and do what he
could to comfort her.

Alone with my second son, I tried to rationalize, as I always did.

"Bart, why do you talk so ugly to Cind began.

"She's at a very vulnerable age and is a d< human being who needs to be
appreciated.  She's i tramp, a whore or a bitch.  She's a lovely young
girl is very thrilled to be pretty and attracting so i attention from
the boys.  That doesn't mean she's g in to every one.  She has
scruples, honor.  That episode with Lance Spalding has not corrupted hi
"Mother, she was corrupted long ago, only you < want to believe that.
Lance Spalding wasn't the fi "How dare you say that?"  I asked, really
cnn "What kind of man are you, anyway?  You sleep whom you please, do
what you please, but ;

supposed to be an angel with a halo and wings 01 back.  Now you go
upstairs and apologize to Cind "An apology is something she'U never get
from j He sat down to finish his meal.

"The servants about Cindy.  You don't hear them, for you're too with
those two babies you can't leave alone.  But I them as they clean and
dust.  Your Cindy is a re number.  The trouble is you think she's an
angel.

think that just because she looks like one."

I sank down to lean my elbows heavily on glass-topped wrought-iron
white table, feeling < whelmingly tired, just as Jory did, and he
hadn't one word for or against Cindy.  To be for any leng time around
Bart was so exhausting; the tens io saying one wrong thing kept you
wired tight.

My eyes fixed on the crimson roses that were evening's centerpiece.

"Bart, has it ever occur re you that Cindy may feel she's been
contaminate that now she doesn't care?  And certainly you don't her any
reason to value her self-esteem."

"She's a wanton, loose slut."  Said with abs< conviction.  I My voice
turned as uncompromising as his.

"At ently from what I overhear when the servants whfl you are drawn to
the very type of woman you;

demn."  I

Standing, be threw down his napkin and stalked purposefully into the
house.

"I'll fire every damn one who gossips about me!"

I sighed.  Soon we wouldn't be able to hire any servants if he kept
hiring and firing.

"Mom, I'm going to hit the sack," said Jory.

"This pleasant evening meal on the terrace has turned out just as I
could have predicted."

That very evening Bart fired every servant but Trevor, who seldom said
anything except to me or Chris.  IfErevprhad left every time Bart fired
him, he'd have been gone long ago.  Trevor had an understanding way of
knowing just when to believe Bart was serious.

Never, never: did he rebuke Bart, nor did be meet Bart's eyes squarely.
Perhaps because of this, Bart thought he had Trevor cowed.  I thought
Trevor forgave Bart, because he understood and pitied him.

I headed for Cindy's room, meeting Chris as he came down.

"She's very upset.  Try to calm her down, Cathy.

She's talking about leaving here and never coming back."

Cindy was face down on her bed.  Small grunts and groans came from her
throat.

"He ruins everything," she wailed.

"I never knew my own father and mother and Bart wants to chase me away
from you and Daddy," she sobbed as I perched on the side of her bed.

"Now he's determined to spoil my summer, drive me away like he did
Melodic."

I held her slight body in my arms and comforted her as best I could,
thinking I'd have to send her away to keep her safe from being hurt
again by Bart.  Where could I send Cindy and not injure her feelings,
which didn't need another cruel blow?  I went to bed thinking about
that, as Cindy escaped the house to meet a boy from the village.

I was to hear about this later.

As Bart had predicted, Cindy's nature-loving experience did have a
name.  Victor Wade.  And while I lay on my bed, and Chris slept beside
me, pondering what to do with Cindy, and still keep her love, how to
keeff from being his worst self, our Cindy sneaked out!

house and went with Victor Wade to Charlottes^ ' ^ - ;a| In
Charlottesville Cindy had a glorious time, <bj| with Victor Wade until
she wore holes in the thU of her fragile, sparkling sandals with the
four-incte heels (really only lucite and not as heavy as 1 Then Victor,
true to his word, drove back (| Foxworth Hall.  Near one of the roads
leading ti hill, he parked and drew Cindy into his anas.  -;

"I've fallen in love," he whispered huskily, rl kisses expertly on her
face, behind her ears, trs down her neck to end up on her breast that
he "I've never met a girl who was half the fun :

And you were right.  They don't grow 'em f Texas..."

Half drunk on too much wine, intoxicated, t the expertise of his
foreplay, Cindy's efforts to i lovemaking were weak, ineffectual.  Soon
I passionate nature was responding, and eagi helped him to undress as
he unzipped her di soon had it off, along with everything else.  He
fellA her--and that's when Bart showed up.  ^ Bellowing alee an enraged
bull, Bart rushe^ parked car, catching Cindy and Victor in the veryi
copulating.  1 Seeing their naked bodies with arms and led twined on
the back seat confirmed all his suspicion!

enraged him more.  Bart threw open the dool yanked Victor out by the
ankles, forcefully dra^ him off the top of Cindy so he fell face
downward 1 the rough gravel of the roadside.  ' Not giving the boy a
chance to recover, Bai tacked, using his fists brutally.

Screaming her anger, disregarding her nudity, C hurled her dress
directly into Bart's face, blinding momentarily.  This gave Victor the
chance to juS his feet and deliver his own blow that momentarily

Bart pause, but already Victor's nose was bleeding and be had a black
eye.

the moonlight his nakedness seemed blue in 's eyes.

"And Bart was so ruthless.  Momma!  So "He seemed like a madman
especially when Victor managed to smash a good right hook into his jaw.
Then he tried to kick Bart in the groin.  It did hit him there, but not
hard enough.  Bart doubled up, cried out, then rushed Victor with so
much fierce anger that I was scared he'd kill him!  He came out of that
pain so fast.  Momma, so fast and I'd always heard that stopped a man
cold."  Cindy sobbed with her head on > my lap.

| "He was like the Devil straight from hell, screaming I abuse at
Victor, using all the obscene words he never | wants me to use.  He
knocked Victor down, then beat I him into unconsciousness.  Then he
came at me!  T was terrified he'd batter my face and break my nose and
make me ugly, like he's always threatened to do.

Somehow I'd managed to pull on that dress, but the zipper was wide open
down the back.  He grabbed me by the shoulders, shook me so hard the
dress feu to my ankles and I was naked but he didn't look to see
anything.  He kept his eyes on my face as he slapped one cheek and then
the other and my head was rocked from side to side, until I felt dizzy
and faint.  My head was reeling before he picked me up like a sack of
grain, threw me over his shoulder and took Off through the woods,
leaving Victor lying on the ground.

"It was awful.  Momma, so humiliating!  To be carried like that, as if
I were cattle!  I cried all the way, pleading with Bart to call an
ambulance in case Victor was seriously hurt .. but he wouldn't listen.
I begged him to put me-down and let me cover myself, but he ordered me
to shut up or else he'd do something terrible.  Then he took me to "
She cut off her words abruptly, staring before her as if mesmerized by
fear.

"Where did he take you, Cindy?"  I asked, feeling sick, as if her
humiliation was mine, and so furious Bart, feeling sorry for her
shocking plight.  At the;

time I was so angry that she'd brought this upon h< by disobeying and
disregarding everything I'd tra teach her.

In a small, weak voice, with her head lowered a long hair fell to hide
her face, she finished, "Just b Mom .. just home."

There was more to it, but she refused to tel anything else.  I wanted
to scold her, to chastise remind her again that she knew all about Bart
an fierce temper, but she was too traumatized to more.  I I got up to
leave her room.

"I'm taking away att:

privileges, Cindy.  I'll send up a servant to take out telephone so you
can't call one of your boyfrien help you escape.  I've heard your suds
of the story] and Bart just this morning told me his side.  I < agree
with his method of punishing you or that go was much too brutal, and
for that, I apologize.  Hoer, it seems you are very free with your
sexual fa;

You can't deny that any longer, for I've seen yosk my own eyes when
that boy Lance was here.  It hw know that you've heeded so little of
what I've try teach you.  I realize it's hard to be young and difEl
from your peers, but still I was hoping you'd wait you knew how to
handle intimate relatici couldn't bear for an unknown man to lay a :

me--much less take me totally--and you just boy, Cindy!  A complete
stranger who might 1 you!"

Her pitiful pietty face lifted.

"Momma, help "Haven't I done my best to help you all yom Listen to me,
Cindy, for once really listen.  The part of loving comes with learning
to know a auj allowing him to know you as a person before you;

to think about sex--you don't pick up the first ma meet!"  ^ Bitterly
she railed back.

"Momma, all the books write about sex/ They don't mention love.  Most
psychiatrists say there is no such thing as love.  You've never
explained to roe exactly what love is.  I dpn't even know if it really
exists.  I think that sex is as necessary at my age as water and food,
and love is nothing but exciteent;

it's your blood heating up; your pulse racing, your heart
pounding,j?our breath coming faster, heavier, and in the end it's only
a natural need no worse than wanting to sleep.  So despite you and your
oldfashioned ideas, I give in when a boy I like wants to make out.
Victor Wade wanted me ... and I wanted him.  Now, don't blaze your eyes
at me that way!  He didn't force me.  Didn't rape me--I just let him! I
wanted him to do what he did!"

Her blue eyes defied me as she jumped up and stared me in the eyes.

"Now go on and call me a sinner like Bart did!  Yell and scream and say
I'll go to hell, but I don't believe you any more than I believe him!
ff so, ninety-nine percent of the world's population are :
sinners--including you and your brother!"

Stunned, deeply hurt, I turned and left.

The beautiful summer days dragged by white Cindy sulked in her room,
angry at Bart, at me, even at Chris.

She refused to eat at the table if Bart or Joel were there.  She
stopped showering two and three times a day and allowed her hair to
become just as stringy and dull as Melodic's, as if proving to us she
was now on her way to abandoning us as Melodic bad, and it was
Melodie's manner she tried to duplicate as much as possible.

However, even in sullenness her eyes still sparked with fire, and she
managed to look pretty even when she looked messy.  :

"You're not accomplishing anything but making yourself miserable," I
said when I saw her quickly turn off the TV set she had in her bedroom,
as if she wanted me to believe she didn't have a single pleasure left
to enjoy when her room contained every luxury but telephone, which I'd
removed so she couldn't arra secret dates with Victor Wade or anyone
else.

She sat on the bed, staring at me resentfully.  "' just let me go.
Momma.  You go and tell Bart to let 50 and I'll never bother him again.
I'll never come t to this house again!  NEVER!"

"Where will you go and what will you do, Cindy isked with concern,
afraid she'd slip out one night ve'd never hear from her again.  And I
knew she di have enough money saved to see her through loi ban two
weeks.

"I'LL DO WHAT I HAVE TO!"  she screamed, t( if self-pity streaking her
pale face, which was aire osing its rosy tan.

"You and Daddy gave to generously, so I won't have to sell my body if
th trhat you're thinking.  Unless I just want to.  Right taoment I feel
like being everything Bart doesn't toe to be, and that would show him,
really show hi "Then you stay in this room until you feel like b<
Cverythmg/want you to be.  When you can speak to Hth respect, without
yelling, and express to me st hature decisions on what you intend to do
with y life, I'll help you escape this house."

"Momma!"  she wailed.

"Don't hate me."i can't I 't if I like the boys and they like me!  I'd
like to s Myself for that special Mister Right, but I've never tayone
that special.  When I refuse to let them, the] iraight from me to some
other girl who doesn't reft 'low did you manage it.  Momma?  What did
you d< cCp all those men loving you, and only you?"

AU those men?!  didn't know how to answer.

Instead, like other parents put on the spot, I avoi ^Tig the straight
answer I didn't have anyw ndy, your father and I fove you very much,
uld know that.  Jory loves you.  And the twin ssi ; to see you come
near them.  Before you deddi > something rash, let's sit down with your
father, n 7, and then you have your say, and let us know w

you want for yourself.  And if it is at all reasonable, we will do
what we can to see that you obtain your goals."

"You won't let Bart in on any of this?"  she asked suspiciously.

"No, dariing.  Bart has proven he doesn't reason when it comes to you
Ever since the day you joined our family he's resented you, and at this
late date there doesn't seem to be much any of us can do about that.

As for Joel, I don't like him, either, and he has no place in our
family discussion about your future."

Suddenly she flung her arms about my neck.

"Oh, Momma, I'm so ashamed I said so many ugly things.  I wanted to
hurt you the other day because Bart had shamed me so much.  Save me
from Bart, Momma.

Find a way, please, please."

After Chris, Jbry, Cindy and I talked, we found a way to save Cindy not
only from Bart but from herself.

I tried to calm Bart, who wanted to punish her more drastically.

"She's only adding fuel to the fire already burning in the village," he
shouted when I entered his office.

"I try to lead a decent.  God-fearing life--now don't you yell at me
and say you've heard differently.  I'll admit I was rolling in film for
a while, but things have changed.  I didn't enjoy those women.  Melodic
was the only one who gave me anything that approached love."

I tried to keep the frown from my face.  How easily he had turned away
from her once he knew he had her loving him ... Looking around at all
the valuables in his office, I wondered again if Bart didn't love
things more than he loved people; I stared at the luxurious antique
Orientals that he'd purchased at auctions, costing hundreds of
thousands.  His furniture put that in the White House to shame.  He
would-be the wealthiest man in the world if he kept doubling his five
hundred thousand a year every few months, the way he was somehow
managing to do now.  Even before he came fully "into his own he'd have
made his billion or so.  He was clever, quick, brilliant.  What a pity
he couldn't be more to mani than just another greedy, selfish
millionaire.

"Leave now.  Mother.  You waste my time."

swiveled his chair around and stared out at the bea rid gardens now in
full bloom.

"Send Cindy awa anywhere.  Justget her out of my hair."

"Cindy told us last night she'd like to spend remainder of the summer
in a New England dn school.  She had the name and address of the One
preferred.  Chris called to check them out, and t seem reliable and
have a good reputation.  So si leaving in three days."  ' "Good
riddance to rubbish," he said indifferent Standing, I threw him a look
of pity.

"Before condemn Cindy so harshly, Bart, think about yours Has she done
any worse than you have?"

He began to use his computer without replying.

I slammed the door behind me.

Three days later I was helping Cindy finish packing.  We'd been
shopping, so she had more t enough casual clothes, six pairs of new
shoes and new swimsuits.  She kissed Jory goodbye, then linge with the
twins cuddled in her arms.

"Dear little babi< she crooned, "I'll be back.  I'll sneak in and out
won't let Bart even see me.  Jory, you should get a' from here, too.
Momma, you and Daddy go with hi Reluctantly she put the twins back in
their play pen came to hug and kiss me.  I was already crying.  I'
losing my daughter."I  knew from the way she lookci me that nothing
between us would ever be quite same again.

Still she came to me and hugged me.

"Daddy's gG to "drive me to the airport," she said as she bowed head on
my shoulder.

"You can come, too, if you d< cry and feel sorry for me, because jTm
happier than lark to be free of this damned house.  And take;

seriously for once--get Jbry and yourselves free ofc house.  It's an
evil house, and now I hate its spirit just as much as once I loved its
beauty."

We drove to the airport without Cindy bidding Bart or Joel farewell.

Without another word to me, her remote expression told me everything.
She was wanner with Chris, kissing him goodbye.  She only waved to me
as she raced toward her departure gate.

"Don't hang around and wait for my plane to take off.  I'm boarding it
gladly."

"You will write?"  Chris asked.

"Naturally, when I can find time."

"Cindy," I called despite myself, wanting to protect her again, "write
at least once a week.  We care about what happens to you  We'll be here
to do what we can when you need us.  And sooner or later, Bart will
find what he's looking for.  He'll change.  I'll see to it that he
changes.  I'll do anything I have to so we can be a family again."

"He won't find his soul.  Momma," she called back coolly, backing away
even farther.

"He was born without one  ^ Before her plane left the ground, my tears
stopped flowing and my determination hardened into concrete.

Indeed, before I died, I was going to see my family united, made whole
and healthy--At it took the rest of my life.

Chris made attempts to pull me out of my depression as he drove roe
back to what had to be called "home."

"How's the nurse making out?"

My concern for Cindy had kept me so involved that I'd paid little
attention to the beautiful, dark-haired nurse Chris had recently hired
to live in and help with the twins and Jory.  She'd been in the house a
few days and I'd hardly said more than six words to her.

"What does Jory think ofToni?"  he asked.

"I took considerable pains looking for just the right one.  In my
opinion, she's a real find."

"I

don't think he's even looked at her, Chris.  He stays so busy with his
painting and the babies.  The just beginning to crawl without so much
effort.  ^ yesterday I saw Cory---I mean Darren--pick up a from the
grass and try to put it in his mouth.  It was 1 who ran to prevent
that.  I don't recall Jory e looking at her."

"He will, sooner or later.  And Cathy, you've go stop thinking of his
twins as Cory and Carrie.  HJ hears you cau them Cory or Carrie he'll
be angry.  7 are not our twins--they are Jory's."

Chris said nothing more during the long drive bac Fbxworth Hall, not
even when he turned into our 1 drive and then drove slowly into the
garage.

"What's going on in this crazy house?"  Jory asked soon as I stepped
onto the terrace, where he was sei on an athletic mat put on the
flagstones.  The twins v with him, playing happily in the sunshine.

"Sho after you left to drive CSndy to the airport, a cres construction
workers arrived and knocked and ban away in that downstairs room Joel
likes to pray i didn't see Bart, and I didn't want to talk to Joel i
then there's something else--" "I don't understand ..."

"It's that damned nurse you and Dad hired.  Mi She's gorgeous and she's
good at her job--when I get hold of her.  I've been calhng for ten
minutes she hasn't responded.  The twins are dripping wet, she didn't
bring out enough diapers so I can cba them again.  I can't go in the
house and get n without leaving them alone.  They scream now wn< try to
put them in the slings.  They want to be on tl own.  Especially
Deirdre."

I diapered the twins myself and put them down naps, then went in search
of the newest member in household.

To my astonishment I found her in the new swimn pool with Bart, both of
them laughing, splashing wi at one another.

"Hi, Mother!"  called Bast, looking tan and healthy, and happier than
I'd seen him since the days when he had believed himself in love with
Melodic.

"Toni plays a super game of tennis.  It's great having her here.  We
were both so hot after all that exercise that we decided to cool off in
the pool."

The look in my eyes was read clearly by Antonia Winters.  Immediately
she clambered out of the pool and began to dry off.  She toweled her
dark curiy hair dry, then wrapped her red bikini with the same white
towel.

"Bart has asked me to call him by his first name.

You won't mind if I do that, will you, Mrs.  Sheffield?"

I looked her over appraisingly, wondering if she was truly responsible
enough to take care of Jory and the twins.  I liked her dark hair that
sprang immediately into soft waves and curls to frame her face
becomingly without makeup.  She was about five eight and had as many
voluptuous curves as Cindy, curves that Bart had despised on his
sister.  But from the way he was looking at the nurse, he approved of
her figure very much.

"Toni," I began with control, "Jory, who I hired you to help, tried to
call you to bring more diapers for the twins.  He was out on the
terrace with his children, and you should have been with him, not Bart.
We hired you expecting you'd see that neither Jory or his children
would be neglected."

Embarrassment heated her face.

"I'm sorry, but Bart..."  and here she hesitated, seeming flustered as
she glanced at him.

"It's all right, Toni.  I accept the blame," said Bart.

"I

told her Jory was fine and able to take care of himself and the twins.
It seems to me be has made a big point of being independent."

"See that this doesn't happen again, Toni," I said, disregarding
Bart.

That damned man was going to drive all of us batty!

Then I had a brilliant idea.

"Bart, you and Toni would have done Jory a great favor if you had
included him in your swimming party.  He has full use of his arms.  In
fact, he has very powerful arms.  And you she remember, Bart, that
it's rather dangerous to ha^ pool like this without a fence, when two
small chilc are around.  So, Toni, with Jory's help, I'd like you I;

to begin teaching the twins how to swim .. .jus case."

Thoughtfully Bart stared at me, seeming to read mind.  He glanced again
at Antonia, who was strk toward the house.

"So you're going to stay on--wh "Don't you want us to stay?"

His smile radiated his dead father's charm.  "^ yes, of course I do.
Now that Torn has come to brigt up my lonely hours."

"You leave her alone, Bart!"

He grinned at me wickedly and began to backpac in the pool, performing
a backward flip that broi him up near my feet to grasp my ankles so
hard it h For a moment I feared he'd pull me in the pool and i the silk
dress I wore.

I stared down and met his dark, suddenly men ac eyes, not flinching.

"Let go of my ankles.  I've aire had my morning swim."

"Why not swim with me sometimes?"

What did be see that made the threat leave sadness come, a look so
wistful he leaned to kiss toes with the pink nails that peeked through
sandals?  Then he was breaking my heart.  Speat with the exact tones of
his dead father: "I think th shall never see, anyone quite as lovely as
thee ..."

looked up.

"See, Mother, I've got a bit of arti talent, too."

This was my moment.  He was vulnerable, toucl by something he saw on my
face.

"Yes, of course;

do, but Bart, don't you feel just a little sorry that Cii is gone?"

His dark eyes grew hard, remote.

"No, not sorry.

glad she's gone.  Did I prove to you what she re.

was?^ "You proved just how hateful you can be."

His eyes darkened more.  A fiercely determined look came to frighten
me.  He glanced toward the house on hearing some slight shuffling
noise.  I looked that way.

Joel had come out onto the grassy area that enclosed our long oval
pool.

Silently Joel condemned us with his pale blue eyes, his long-fingered
bony hands steepled beneath his chin.

He tilted back his head and stared heaven wise  His weak, sweet voice
came to us falteringly.

"You keep the Lord waiting, Bart, while you waste your time."

Helplessly I watched Bart's eyes flood with guilt before he scampered
from the pool.  For a moment he stood mall his youthful male glory, his
long, strong legs deeply bronze, his belly hard and flat, his shoulders
wide, his muscles firm, rippling beneath his skin, the hair on his
chest curling, and for a flashing second I thought he was flexing his
strong muscles, preparing them for a lion's charge that would lunge him
straight at Joel's throat.  I tensed, wondering if he would even
consider striking his uncle.

A cloud drifted over the sun.  Somehow it caused shadows from the unlit
poolside lamps to form: a cross on the ground.  Bart stared downward.

"You see, Bart," said Joel in a compelling voice I'd never heard
before, "you neglect your duties and the sun disappears.  God gives you
his sign of the cross.

He's always watching.  He hears.  He knows you.  For you have been
chosen," - ;" ;

Chosen for what?

Almost as if Joel had him hypnotized, Bart fouowed his great-uncle into
the house, leaving me standing alone beside the pool.  I hurried to
tell Chris about Joel.

"What can he mean, Chris--by saying that Bart has been chosen?"

Chris had just come in from visiting Jory and the twins.  He forced me
to sit, to relax.  He even handed me my favorite mixed drink before he
sat beside me on our small balcony overlooking the gardens and the
mountains all around.

"I had a few words with Joel minutes ago.  It seems Bart hired workers
to constru small chapel in that small, empty room he favors for
prayers."

"A chapel?"  I asked with bewilderment.

"Why we need a chapel?"

"I don't think it is meant for us, it's for Bart and J( A place where
they can worship without going into village and facing up to all the
villagers who desj Raworths.  And if it's what Bart thinks will help
bin find himself, for God's sake, don't say a word condemn what he's
doing with Joel.  Cathy, I d< think Joel is an evil man.  I think, more
than anything he's trying to make himself a candidate for sainthoo "A
saint?  Why, that would be like putting a h above the head of
Malcolm!"

Chris grew impatient with me.

"Let Bart do what wants.  I've decided it's time we left here, anyway
can't talk to you in this house and expect a sane answ Well move to
Charlottesville and take Jory, the tw and Toni with us, just as soon as
I can find a ho that's suitable."

Unknown to me, Jory had rolled himself into ' suite of rooms, and he
startled me when be spoke "Mom, Dad may be right.  Joel could be the Id
benign saint he often appears.  Sometimes I think are both overly
suspicious, and then again, you are often right.  I study Joel when he
isn't watching.  I th in many ways he's trying not to be what we m
fear--a duplicate of the grandfather you both hate "I think all of this
is ridiculous!  Of course Joel k like his father, or else he wouldn't
have hated him much," Chris flared with sudden and unusual anger,
expression hard and totally out of patience not o with me but with
Jory.

"All this talk about souls be born again in later generations is
absolute non sen We don't need to add complications to our lives wl
they're complicated enough already."

The next Monday Chris drove off again, head back to the job he now
loved just as much as he'd loi being a practicing physician.  I stood
staring after his car, feeling my rival was his blossoming love affair
with biochemistry.

The dinner table seemed lonely without Chris or Cindy there, and Toni
was upstairs putting the twins to bed, a feet that annoyed Bart
greatly.  He said several things to Jory about Toni, meant to imply she
was already madly in love with him.  This information didn't affect
Jory one way or another; he was too deep in his own thoughts.  He
didn't say two words during the entire meal, even when eventually Toni
did join us.

Another Friday evening came, and with it Chris returned, as once Daddy
bad come home every Friday.

Somehow or other I was disturbed by the similarities of our lives
compared to our parents' lives.  Saturday we spent most of the day in
the pool with Jory and the twins, with Toni and I supporting the babies
as Chris helped Jory, who really didn't need much help.  He took off
across the water, expertly swimming, his strong arms more than making
up for his legs that trailed limply behind.  In the pool, with his legs
under the water, he appeared so much himself that it showed on his
happy face.

"Hey, this is great!  Let's not move away from here yet.  There aren't
many houses in Charlottesville with pools like this.  And I need the
wide hallways and the elevator.  And I've grown accustomed to Bart, and
even to Joel."

"I might not be coming next weekend."  Chris didn't meet my eyes as he
gave out this startling information at our Sunday breakfast table.  He
went on, steadfastly refusing to look my way or meet anyone's eyes.

"There's a convention of biochemists in Chicago and I'd like to fly
there.  I'll be gone two weeks.  If you want to join me, Cathy, I'd be
grateful."

Bart keened his ears my way, digging his spoon into his ripe melon. His
dark eyes held a quiet, waiting look, as if his entire life depended
upon my answer.  I wanted to go with Chris.  In the worst way I wanted
to escf this house, its problems, and to be alone with the ma loved.  I
wanted to be near him, but I had to deny t and make this last-ditch
effort to save Bart.

"I'd 1 very much to go with you, Chris.  But Jory is emb rassed to ask
Toni to do some intimate things for hi He needs me here."

"For Christ's sake!  That's why we hired her!  She' nurse!"

"Chris, not under my roof do you take the Lor name in vain."

Glaring at Bart for saying this, Chris rose to his fe *Tve suddenly
lost my appetite.  I'll eat breakfast town, if I can regain an appetite
for anything again He glared at me accusingly, flashed angry eyes Bart,
put his hand^ briefly on lory's shoulder, and tl he was off.

It was a good thing I'd asked him to find a nu before this happened.
Now he'd more than likely (A his ears to what I wanted to do for my two
sons w were, in one way or another, driving a wedge betwc us.  Yet I
couldn't leave Jory when I wasn't really si Toni would take good care
of him, not yet.

Toni joined us at our luncheon table wearing a fit white uniform.  The
three of us at the table talked off weather and of other mundane things
while she sat w her eyes fixed on Bart.  Beautiful soft, luminous, gi
eyes filled with awe--and infatuation.  It was so obvx I wanted to warn
her to look at Jory, to see him and i the man who was most likely to
destroy her.

Sensing her admiration, Bart turned on his char laughing and telling
her some silly stories that mock the little boy he'd been.  Each word
he said entranc her more, as Jory sat unnoticed in his detested cha
pretending to read the morning newspaper.

Day by day I could see Toni's infatuation with B growing, even as she
kindly tended to the twins a patiently did what she could for Jory.  My
firstborn s stayed in a sullen mood, waiting constantly for tele phone
calls from Melodic, waiting for letters that didn't come, waiting for
someone to help with things he used to do for himself arid no longer
could.  I sensed his impatience when it took the servants so long to
make up his bed, to tidy his rooms, to get out of his way and leave him
alone.

He drove himself relentlessly, hired an art instructor to come three
times a week and teach him different techniques.  Work, work, work ...
he was driving him self to become the best artist possible, as once
he'd dedicated himself to practicing his ballet exercises morning,
night and noon.

The four Ds of the ballet world never died in some of us.  Drive,
Dedication, Desire, Determination.

"Do you think Toni is an adequate nursemaid for the twins?"  I asked
one evening as she took off down the road, pushing the twins in a
double stroller.  They loved being outdoors.  Just to see the stroller
brought squeals of pleasure and excitement.  No sooner were the words
out of my mouth than both Jory and (saw Bart racing to catch up with
the nurse.  Then the two of them were pushing Jory's children.

Uneasily I waited for Jory to speak.  He said nothing.

I glanced to see his bitter expression as he stared after Bart, now
taking charge of his children, and the nurse I'd hired for him.  It was
as if I could read his thoughts.

He didn't stand a chance with any woman now that he was in that chair.
Now that his legs didn't dance, or even walk.  Yet his doctors had told
Chris and me that many handicapped men married and lived more or less
normal lives.  The percentages for marriage were much higher for
disabled men than for handicapped women.

"Women have more compassion than men.  Most normal men think more of
their own needs.  It takes an exceptionally compassionate and
understanding man to marry a woman who isn't physically normal," "Jory,
do you stiH miss Melodic?"

He stared gloomily before him, deliberately his eyes away from Tom and
Bart, who'd paused to| on a tree stump, apparently talking.

"I try not to do much thinking at all.  It's a good i to keep from
worrying about the years ahead, and I I'm going to manage.  Eventually
I will be alone, ai .

fear that day, fearing it's more than I can handle!

"Chris and I will always be with you, as long as 3 need us, and as long
as we live; but long before eit of us die, you will have found someone
else.  I ki that wiO happen."

"How do you know that?  I'm not sure I even anyone.  I'd be embarrassed
now to have a wife.

trying to find something to do to fill the empty pl that dancing left,
and so far I haven't.  The best thing | my life now are my twins and my
parents."  | I glanced again at the pair on the tree stump, just | time
to see Bart jump up to lift the twins out of the double stroller, and
then he was playing with them c the roadside grass.  They liked
everyone and even trk to charm Joel, who never touched them, never
spoke 1 them as we did.  Faintly we could hear the laughter < the
little boy and giri who grew prettier and prettia each day.  Bart
looked and acted happy.  I told myse that Bart needed someone, too,
just as desperately i Jbry did.  In a way, he needed someone even more
til Jory.  Inevitably Jory would find his.  way, with without a wife.

We sat on and on, watching the pair who played w the twins.  A full
moon rose, appearing exceeding large and golden in the twilight.  A
bird over the la] not so feu- away made its lonely cry.

"What's that?"

asked, sitting up straighter.

"I never heard a bird like that before down here."  J "It's a toon,"
said Jory, looking in the direction p| the lake.

"Sometimes a storm blows them down this way.  Mel and I used to rent a
cottage on Mount Desert Isle, and we'd hear the cries of the loons and
think

them romantic.  I wonder why we thought that.  Now that cry just
sounds forlorn, even eerie."

Out of the dark near the shrubbery, Joel spoke up.

"There are some who say that lost souls inhabit the bodies of loons."

I asked sharply, turning to stare at him, "What is a lost soul,
Joel?"

His benign voice said softly, "Those who can't find peace in their
graves, Catherine.  Those who hesitate between Heaven and Hell, looking
back to their time on earth to see what they left unfinished.  By
looking back, they are trapped forever, or at least Until their life's
work is done."

I shivered as if a cold wind blew from the cemetery.

"Don't try to digest that.  Mom," said Jory impatiently

"I wish I could use some of the descriptive adjectives that Cindy's age
group can throw out with so much ease and not feel crass.  Funny," he
added more thoughtfully as Joel disappeared again in the darkness,
"when I was in New York and I was disgusted, impatient or angry, I used
gutter language, too.  Now, even when I think about saying those words,
something keeps me from doing it."

He didn't have to explain.  I knew exactly what he meant.  It was all
around us, in the atmosphere, the clarity of the mountain air, the
closeness of the stars the presence of a strict and demanding God.

Everywhere.

The New leavers

They met in the shadows.  They kissed in the halls.

haunted the sunny, spacious gardens, roamed there the moonlight, too.
They swam together, played tens together, strolled hand in hand by the
lake shores tt walked and jogged in the woods, had picnics by 1 pool,
by the lake, in the woods; went dancing, restaurants, then the theater,
the movies.

They lived in their own world while we were app ently invisible, not
seen or heard by them, not wh they could look at each other across the
dining ta' with dazzled eyes, as if they had the world by its tail,
would never let it go.  I was caught up in their romar despite myself,
thrilled to be around such glow' beautiful young lovers, a matched pair
with their < hair almost the same color.  I was happy and I unhappy,
delighted, yet so sad that it was not Jory' had found another woman to
love.  I wanted to v Tonishe was on treacherous ground, that Bart was
to be trusted, but then I'd took at Bart's radiant" free of guilt or
shame.  This time he wasn't ste anything that belonged to his brother.
My critical v would fade away unspoken.  Who was I to tell whom he
could love?  I, of all people, had to stay quiet and let him have his
chance.  This was different than fi( had been with Melodic; Toni didn't
belong to Jory.  | Bart showed his happiness by becoming more
confident, and with the security in his newfound love he forgot all his
peculiar habits and his obsessive concert for neatness and allowed
himself to relax in sports clothes.  In the past, a thousand-dollar
suit worn with expensive silk shirts and ties had given him his
status

OSSt.  symbols; now he didn't care, for Toai had given him his sense
of worth.  I could tell that for the first time to his life he seemed
to have found stable ground to stand on.

He smiled and kissed me several times on the cheek.

"I know what you wanted to happen, I do!  I do!  But it's me she loves.
Mother!  Me!  Toni sees something wonderful and noble in me!  Do you
realize how that makes me feel?  Melodic used to say she saw these
qualities in me, too, but I didn't feel noble or wonderful when I knew
what harm I was doing to Jbry.  Now it's different.

Toni's never been married, never had a lover before, although she's had
lots of boyfriends.  Mother, think of that!  I am her first lover!  It
makes me feel so special to be the one she waited for.  Mother, we have
something wonderfully special.  In me she sees the same things that you
see in Jory."

"I think that's wonderful, Bart.  I am happy for you both."

"Are you really?"  His dark eyes turned serious as they sought to delve
the truth of my statement.  Before I could reply, Joel spoke from the
open doorway of Bart's study.

"You stupid fool!  You think that nurse really wants you?  That woman
sees the nobility of your money!  It's1 your bank accounts she's after,
Bart Foxworth!  Have you observed the way she strolls through the
house, her eyes half closed, obviously pretending that she's the
mistress here!  She doesn't love you.  She is using you to get what
every woman wants--money, control, power, and then more money--and once
you marry her, she'll be set for life, even rf you divorce her later
on."

"Shut up!"  barked Bart, turning to glare furiously at the old man.

"You're jealous because I have go time left to spend with you.  This is
the cleanest, purest love of my life--and I'm not going to allow you to
spoil it!"

Joel bowed his head meekly, appearing crestfallen as he temp led his
palms together under his chin before he slipped down the ball,
obviously headed for that special small room that Bart had converted
into a it chapel, although only Joel and Bart ever prayed tl I'd never
even bothered to look inside.

I stood on my toes to kiss Bart's cheek, to hug and wish him good
luck.

"I'm happy for you, 1 Sincerely happy.  I truthfully admit I had hopes
Toni might fall in love with Jory and make up fo loss of Melodic.  I
wanted the twins to have a me while they are still babies.  She would
have the eh to learn to love them like her own, and they wou remember
any mother but her.  But since it h happened that way, seeing your
happiness and makes me feel warm and good inside."

Delving, delving, those dark eyes that tried to my soul.  I had to ask:
"Will you marry her?"

His hands rested lightly on my shoulders.

"Yea ask her soon, after I make sure she isn't deceiving i have a
method all planned to test her."

"Bart, that's not fair.  When you love you ha trust."

"To have blind faith in anyone but God is idiot Only too well I
remembered what Chris was ai telling me.  Seek and you shall find.  I
knew that enough.  I'd always been suspicious of the best that gave me,
and soon enough the best had disappeas "Mother ..."  he began with
surprising candol Jory had kept his dancing legs, I know now Melodie
would never have let me touch her.  She t him, not me.  She may have
even pretended I was;

for sometimes I see a certain resemblance between also think Melodie
saw what she wanted to see, am turned to me because he couldn't satisfy
her ph$ needs any longer.  I was a substitute lover for brother, just
as I've always come in second to J Only with Toni have I come first."

"You're right this time, Bart.  Jory is here and, isn't seeing him. She
sees you, only you."

"J

His lips took on an ironic twist.

"Yeah .., you're not mentioning that I'm up on my legs and;

down.  I've got the most money, and he's got a pittance in comparison.
And he's already burdened with two children that won't be hers.  Three
strikes against Jory ... so I win."

Now I was wanting him to win; he needed Toni ten times more than Jory
did.  My Jory was strong even when he was down, and Bart was so
vulnerable and uncertain while he was perfectly healthy.

"Bart, if you can't love yourself for what you are, how do you expect
anyone else to?  You've got to start believing that even without money
Toni would still love you."

"We will soon find out," he said tonelessly, a certain something in his
eyes that reminded me of Joel.  He turned to dismiss me.

"I've got work to do.  Mother.

See you later ..."  and he was smiling at me with more love than he'd
shown since he was nine.

Contrary, complex, perplexing, challenging, the man my little troubled
Bart had grown into ... Cindy had written to tell us how fabulous her
summer Jays in the New England drama class were going.

"We act in real productions.  Momma, in real barns that are temporarily
converted into theaters.  I love it, really love every aspect of show
biz."

Often I missed Cindy as the summer days passed.  We all swam in the
lake or pool, introducing the rapidly growing twins to all the wonders
of nature.  They had small teeth now and were both fast crawlers to
where ever they wanted to go, and that was everywhere.

Nothing was safe from their small, grasping hands that considered every
object a food item.  Flaxen blond hair turned into ringlets on their
heads, pmk lips turned rosy from the sun, and their cheeks stayed
flushed with color, while their wide, innocent, blue eyes devoured all
faces, swallowed down all first impressions.

We swept the glorious hot summer days away like iridescent dust
settling into photograph albums that would never let the days and happy
moments truly disappear.  Snap snap snap went three different kinds of
cameras, as Chris, Jory and I took picture after picture of our
wonderful twins.  They adored being outdcx sniffing the flowers,
feeling the tree bark, watching birds, squirrels, rabbits, racoons, the
ducks and ge that often invaded our swimming pool, only to chased off
quickly by the adults.

Before I knew it, summer was gone and autumn' upon us again.  This year
Jbry could enjoy this glori season of splendor in the mountains.  The
trees :

esting the mountainside flamed into spectacular col< "A year ago I was
in Hell," said Jory, staring at trees and mountains and glancing down
at his left ha which no longer wore a wedding band of gold.  " final
divorce papers came, and you know, I didn't l anything but numb.  I
lost my wife the day I lost the of my legs, and still I'm surviving and
finding that does go on and it can be good, even when experien from a
chair."

My arms went around him.

"Because you h strength, lory, and determination.  You have y children,
so your marriage was not without its rewal You still have celebrity
status, don't forget that, i you can, if you want, start teaching
ballet classes."

"Nope, I can't neglect my son and daughter, when they don't have a
mother."  Then he tilted head back to smile at me.

"Not that you don't mak super mother figure, but I want you and Dad to
1 your own lives, not be burdened down with sn children who might
hamper your lifestyle."

Laughing, I tousled his dark curls.

"What life-st;

Jory?  Chris and I are happy where we are, with' sons and
grandchildren."

The bright fall days slowly chilled, bringing the a( scent of wood
fires burning.  I was drawn outside e< each day, taking Jory and the
twins with me.  The im were pulling themselves up to stand by holding o
hands or furniture.  Deirdre had even taken a i faltering, wide-legged
steps, her bottom fat with <

pers and plastic panties, covered by other pretty panties that she
seemed to adore.  Darren seemed more than content with his fast crawl
that took him speedily wherever he wanted to go which was everywhere.
I'd even caught him crawling backward down those high front stairs,
with Deirdre close behind him.

On this fine eariy October day, Deirdre rode on Jory's lap, happily
jabbering to herself, as I carried a more subdued Darren, using the new
dirt trails that Bart had considerately ordered leveled so Jory could
drive his chair through the woods.  Tree roots that might have tripped
up his chair had been removed at considerable cost.  Now that Bart had
a love of his own, he treated his brother with much more consideration
and respect.

"Mother, Bart and Toni are lovers, aren't they?"

Jory shot out unexpectedly.

"Yes," I admitted with reluctance.

He said something then that startled me.

"Isn't it odd how we're born into families and have to accept what
we're given?  We don't ask for each other, yet we're glued all pur
lives to those whom we'd never speak to twice if they weren't blood
related."

"Jory, you don't really dislike Bart that much, do you?"

"I'm not speaking of Bart, Mom.  He's been rather decent lately.  It's
that old man who says he's your uncle that I dislike.  The more I see
of him the more I detest him.  At first when he showed up, I pitied
him.  Now I look at Joel and see something evil beneath those faded
blue eyes.  Somehow or other he reminds me of John Amos Jackson.  I
believe he's using us.  Mom.  Not just for practical reasons of having
a home and food to eat... he has something else in mind.  Just today, I
happened to hear Joel whispering to Bart in the back hall.  I think
from what I overheard, Bart is going to tell Toni the complete truth
about his past- his psychological problems and the fact that if he's
ever committed to an institution he'll lose his entire inheritance.  I
being urged to do this by Joel.  Mom, he shouldn't her!  If Tom truly
loves him, she'll accept the fact had his problems.  From all I can
see, he's normal n and very brilliant at making money grow."

My head bowed.

"Yes, Jory.  Bart told me hims but he keeps putting off that
revelation, as if he him believes it's his money she's after."

Jory nodded, holding fast to Deirdre, who was tr to climb down from his
lap and explore by herself..

seeing his sister do that made Dan-en anxious to be i as well.

"Has Joel ever said anything to indicate he might to break his sister's
will and take the money that I expects to inherit the day he's
thirty-five?"

Jory's laugh was short, dry.

"Mom, that old i never says anything that isn't a double entendre.

doesn't like me and avoids me as much as possible.

disapproves of the fact that once I was a dancer wore skimpy costumes.
He disapproves of you.  I him watching you with narrowed eyes, and he
mut to himself, "Just like her mother .. . only worse, worse."  I'm
sorry to tell you that, but he's scary, Mi really a sinister old man.
He looks at Dad with hati And he prowls the house at night.  Since I've
b disabled, my ears have become very sharp.  I hear floorboards in the
hall outside my door squeak, sometimes my door is opened ever so
slightly.  It's J I know it's him."

"But why would he be peeking in on you?"

"I don't know."

I bit down on my lower lip, imitating Bart's nerv habit.

"Now you are frightening me, Jory.  I h reasons to think he means harm
for all of us, to believe it was Joel who smashed the ship you made
Bart, and I truly believe Joel never mailed off th Christmas
invitations.  He wanted Bart to be hurt, s< took them up to his room,
removed the R.S.V.P. cai signed them as if the invitations were
accepted and t

mailed them back to Bart.  It's the only explanation of why no one
showed up."

"Mom .. . why didn't you tell me this before?"

How could I tell him of all my suspicions about Joel without his
reacting much like Chris had?  Chris had completely rejected my story
of how Joel might have planned to hurt Bart.  And sometimes even I
thought I was much too imaginative and gave Joel credit for being more
evil than he actually was.

"And what's more, Jory, I think it was Joel who overheard the servants
in the kitchen talking about Cindy meeting that boy, Victor Wade, and
he quickly passed that information along to Bart.  How else would Bart
have known?  Servants are to Bart like designs on the wallpaper, not
worthy of his notice--it's Joel who does the eavesdropping so he can
report what they say to Bart."

"Mom ... I think you could very well be right about the ship, the
invitations and Cindy, too.  Joel has something in mind for alt of us,
and I'm afraid it's not for our good."

Deep in thought, Jory had to tell me twice that I should, put his son
on his lap, to ride on his other leg, and we'd make better progress
through the woods.

Even one twin was a load to carry for a long distance, and more than
willingly I lowered Darren to his father's lap.  Deirdre squealed her
delight and hugged her small brother.

"Mom, I believe if Toni really toves Bart enough, she'll stay, no
matter what his background--or how much he inherits."

"Jory ... that's exactly what he's trying to prove."

Around midnight, when I was almost asleep, a soft tapping sounded on my
door.  It was Toni.

She came in wearing a pretty rosy peignoir, her long dark hair loose
and flowing, her long legs appearing as she neared my bed.

"I hope you don't mind, Mrs.

Sheffield ... I waited for a night when your husband wasn't with
you."

"Call me Cathy," I said as I sat up and re ache my own robe.

"I'm not sleeping.  Just lying thinking, and I appreciate another woman
to tall;

She began to pace the floor of my large bedr "I've got to speak to a
woman, someone whc understand more readily than a man, so that's wh
here."

"Sit down.  I'm ready to listen."  lentativeh perched on a love seat,
twisting a tress of her dart over and over, sometimes pulling it in
between her "I'm terribly upset... Cathy.  Bart's told me a very
disturbing facts today.  He mentioned that already know about us, that
he loves me and I love I think you have caught us a few times in one
too another in rather intimate moments.  And I than) for pretending not
to notice, so I wouldn't feel en rassed.  I've got all kinds of notions
that most pi think are obsolete."  is She gave me a nervous smile,
seeking my a standing.

"The moment I looked at Bart I fell in' There's something so magnetic
about his dark eft mystical and compelling.  And then tonight he ml
into his office, sat down behind his desk and like N and distant
stranger told me a long story about hsi as if he were talking about
someone else, someol didn't like.  I felt, like a business client whose
^ reaction was being judged.  I didn't know just wfi thought I'd
reveal.  It occurred to me he expected!

appear shocked or disgusted, and at the same til eyes were so
beseeching.  ^ "He loves you, Cathy ... loves you almost ^j point of
obsession," she said, making me sit up str| er, stunned with her crazy
notion.

"I don't evea| he realizes how much he adores you.  He thinks h6| you
because of your relationship with your bro| She flashed and lowered her
eyes.

"I'm sorry Mj| even mention this, but I'm trying to be open."  ^ "Go
on," I urged.  l| "Because Bart feels he should hate you for 1" tries
to.  Still, something in you, in him, keeps him from ever really
deciding which emotion will reign, love or hatred.  He wants a woman
like you, only he doesn't know that."  She paused, looked up to meet my
wide and interested eyes.

"Cathy, I told him what 1 honestly thought, that he was looking for a
woman like his mother.  He went pale, almost dead white.  He appeared
totally shocked at the idea."

She paused to watch my reaction.

"Toni, you have to be wrong.  Bart doesn't want a woman like me, but
the exact opposite."  .

"Cathy, I've studied psychology, and Bart does protest too much about
you, so while I listened, I tried to keep an open mind.  Bart impounded
also the fact that he's never been mentally stable, and that any day he
could lose his mind and, with h, his inheritance.

Why, it's as if he wants me to hate him, to cut all ties and run away
... so I am going to run," she sobbed, her hands covering her face so
that her tears trickled between her long, elegant fingers.

"As much as I love him and I thought he loved me, I can't continue to
love and sleep with a man who has so little faith in my integrity and
worse than that, in his own."

Quickly I was on my feet and striding to comfort her.

"Don't go, please, Toni, stay.  Give Bart another chance.  Give him
time to think this through.  Bart has always been inclined to act on
impulse.  He also has that old great-uncle who whispers in his ears,
telling him you love him for his money alone.  It's not Bart who is
crazy, but Joel, who tells Bart what he should look for in a future
wife."

Hopefully she stared at me, trying to check her now of tears.  I went
on, determined to help Bart escape the childhood sense of being
unworthy and the adult influence of Joel.

"Toni, the twins adore you, and there's only so much I can do.  Stay to
help with Jory and help me keep him entertained.  He needs professional
help to maintain physical progress, too.  And keep in mind that Bart
is unpredictable, sometimes unreasonable, but he loves you.  He's told
me sev times how much he loves and admires you.  He's tes your love for
him by telling you what is the truth.

was unstable mentally when he was a child, but tl were good reasons
that caused his mental disturhai Hold fast to your belief in him and
you can save from himself and his great-uncle."

Toni stayed.

Life went on as usual.

Deirdre, before her first birthday, was walking!

where she chose to go, or we'd allow.  Small and daii her golden curls
bobbing, she charmed us all with incessant babbling, which soon turned
into sin words, leading the way for Darren to follow.  Once heard
herself speak, she couldn't stop.  Altho Darren was slower to walk, he
was not stowci investigate dark, dim places that scared his twin sis He
was the incessant explorer, the one who had to | everything up and
examine it, so I was forced to expensive and delicate objets dart on
shelves couldn't reach.

A tetter came from Cindy stating that she homesick for her family and
wanted to come home spend Thanksgiving through Christmas, but she
invited to a fabulous New Year's Eve party and we fly back to attend
that.

I gave the letter to Jbry to read.  Smiling, he loo up.

"Have you told her about Bart and his love ai with Toni?"

"No," I said, for I was going to let her see and 1 out for herself.  Of
course, before she'd left last si mer, Toni had been with us only two
days, but at 1 time Cindy had been so discontented she hadn't f
attention to what she thought was just more hired b The day came when
we were expecting Cindy he for the holidays, a bitterly cold day. Chris
and I well the airport when she came through the gate, dr esse bright
crimson, looking so beautiful all the peopk the airport turned to stare
her way.

"Mom!  DadP'

cried happily, flinging herself first into my arms and then into
Chris's.

"I'm so happy to see you.  And before you warn me, I promise to do and
say nothing that will upset the applecart named Bart.  This Christmas
I'm going to be the perfect sweet little angel he wants me to be .. .
and no doubt even then he'll find something to criticize, but I won't
care."  Then she was asking about Jory, about the twins, and had we
heard from Melodic?

And how was the new nurse working out?  And was our chef the same?  Was
Trevor still as sweet as ever?

Somehow or other, Cindy gave me the feeling we were, after all, a real
family ... and that was enough to make me very happy.  Once she was in
the grand foyer, Tom and Bart, with Jory holding the twins on his lap,
were all waiting to sing out greetings.  Only Joel bung back and
refused to welcome our daughter home.

Bart shook her hand in a warm fashion, and that gave me such relief and
pleasure.  Cindy laughed.

"Someday, brother Bart, you are going to be really overjoyed to see me,
and maybe then you can allow your chaste lips to kiss my unholy
cheek."

He flushed and glanced uneasily at Toni.

"I've got a confession, Tom.  In the past, Cindy and I haven't always
gotten along."

"Th say the least," said Cindy.

"But rest easy, Bart, I'm not here to make trouble.  I didn't bring a
boyfriend.

I'm going to behave myself.  I've come because I love my family and
can't stand being away during the holidays."

The holidays that year couldn't have been better, unless we could have
turned back the dock and made Jory whole again, and restored Melodic to
him.

In a matter of a few days, Cindy and Toni became close friends.  Toni
went shopping with us as Jory took care of the twins with the help of a
maid.  Time flew as it never did when Cindy wasn't around.  The four
years' difference between her age and Toni's didn't matter.

Generously Cindy loaned Tom one of her prettiest dresses for that
Christmas Eve trip into Charkmesville where she could dance with one
of the doctor's ', she'd met the year before.  Jory went as well bul
looking unhappy while Bart danced with Toni.

"Mom," whispered Cindy when she came bad bur table, "I think Bart has
changed.  He's a n warmer person now.  Why, I'm even beginning to tl
he's human."

Smiling, I nodded, but still I couldn't help thinkin Joel and the way
he and Bart spent so much time in small room they'd converted into a
chapel.  Why?  Tl were churches all around.

New Year's Eve came and Bart and Toni decide fly to New York with Cindy
and celebrate th Leaving Chris, Jory and I to do the best we a without
them.  We used this opportunity to invite a of Chris's colleagues to
our home, along with t spouses, knowing that Joel would report this to
1 when he came back.  Still I didn't care.

I bumped into Joel that night as I left the nura Smiling, I met his
eyes.

"Well, Joel, it seems my won't be as dependent on you once he marries
tq "He'll never marry her," said Joel in his ha forecasting way.

"He's like all young men in love, a who can't see the truth.  She wants
his money, not I and he'll soon find that out."

"Joel," I said softly, pityingly, "Bart is a i handsome young man, and
a passionate one, and e if he were a ditch digger, the girls would fall
for I When he lets go of his determination to show the w how brilliant
he is, he's a very likeable young n Leave him alone.  Stop trying to
mold him into so thing that will please you but might not suit him.

him find his own way ... for that will be what's right thing for him,
even if it's not what you havi mind."

ScomfaUy he looked me over.

"What do you ki about what's right and what's wrong, niece?  Have you
already proved you have no perception of moi

ty?  Bart will never find himself without my guidance.

Hasn't he been searching all his life and failed?  Did you help him
then do you help him now?  God will provide for Bait, Catherine, while
you continue to plague Bart with your sins."

He turned from me and shuffled off down the hall.

While Bart was in New York with Toni and Cindy, Jory completed his most
impressive watercolor depicting Foxworth Hall.  He'd darkened the rosy
bricks to a dusty and dreary old ash rose, made the immaculate gardens
overgrown with weeds; the cemetery was moved in closer so that
tombstones showed off to the left, casting long shadows that snared the
Hall in their web.  Foxworth Hall looked two thousand years old and
full of specters

"Put that thing away, Jory, and try a happier subject I said, feeling
strange.  I think that was the only watercolor Jory painted that didn't
please me.

Bart and Torn flew home from New York, and immediately I noticed the
difference.  They didn't look or speak to each other but went quietly
to their rooms without spilling out happy tales of the fun they'd
had.

When I tried to broach the subject, both refused to give me details.

"Leave me alone!"  stormed Bart.

"She's just another woman after all."  .

"I can't tell you, Cathy," cried Toni.

"He dqiesn't love me, that's alii" ;J ^ January fled by, and then came
the February when we celebrated Jory's thirty-first birthday.  We had a
huge cake baked for him in the shape of a heart covered with red
frosting to represent the Valentine gift he'd been, with his name in
white icing, trimmed with white roses.  The twins were delighted,
squealing when they saw him blow out the candles.  Both were seated in
high chairs one oh each side of him, and before Jory could slice down
into the cake, Deirdre and Darren reached simultaneously and grabbed
great handfuls of the soft fresh cake.  We all stared at the mess
they'd made of a work of art, while they jammed the cake their mouths
and smeared their faces with red.

"What's left is still edible," said Jory with a lau Silently Toni got
up to wash the hands and facf two very messy little one-year-olds. Bart
followed every movement with sad, wistful eyes.

We were trapped, all of us, in the winter blizza caught in frozen time,
making do with each other v others would have been welcomed, even as
some c kept on loving the wrong person.

The day came when the snow stopped and C could drive back to his cancer
research team, w worked on and on without ever reaching any cor sions
that were absolute.

Another blizzard kept Chris in Charlottesville, two weeks dragged
slowly by, although we talked e' day when the lines weren't down--but
they wer comfortable conversations.  Always I had the se nsa that
someone was listening in on another telephoc Chris called on the next
Thursday to say he'c home, have the home fires burning, the steak c
coaled, the salad fresh, "..  . and wear that new w nightgown I gave
you for Christmas."

Eagerly I waited at an upstairs window to i Chris's blue car coming
around the drive, and wh' did, Iraced down the stairs to the garage to
be ti when he left his car.  We came together like 1 separated lovers
who might never have the chano kiss and hug again.  But it wasn't until
we were to sanctuary of our rooms with the doors closed that arms
slipped around his neck again.

"You still feel c So, just to warm you up, you are going to hear all
dull things that go on here--and in exquisite de Last night I overheard
Joel telling Bart again that 1 is only after his money."

"Is she?"  he asked, nibbling on my ear.

"I don't think so, Chris.  I think she sincerely It him, but I'm not
sure how long her love will last, or

It seems when they went with Cindy to New York for New Year's Eve,
Bart scolded Cindy ruthlessly again, humiliating her in a nightclub,
and Cindy's letter said he later on jumped on Toni for dancing with
another man.  He so shocked Toni with his brutal accusations that she
hasn't been the same since.  I think she's afraid of his jealousy."

His eyebrows shot up quizzically, though he said nothing to remind me
he was "my Bart."

"And Jory, how is he?"

"He's adjusting marvelously, but he's lonely and melancholy, wanting
Melodie to write.  He wakes up in the night and calls her name.
Sometimes he inadvertently calls me Mel.  I found a small article about
Melodie in Variety.  Melodie has rejoined their old ballet company and
has a new partner."  1 showed that to Jory just today, feeling he
should know.  His eyes went blank.  He put away his watercolors just
when he'd washed in the most beautiful winter sky and refused to finish
the painting.  Anyway, I put the painting m a safe place, thinking he
can finish it later."

"Yes ... everything will work out."  And with that we surrendered to
each other, forgetting our problems in the ecstasy we knew so well how
to create.

Time flew by, wasted by small, trivial things.  Daily arguments between
Bart and Toni concerning his attitude toward Cindy, whom Toni really
liked, as well as his suspicions of her loyalty to him and only him.

"You shouldn't have danced with that man you just met!"

and on and on.  There were also daily fights between them about the
twins and how they should be handled, and soon enough the narrow gulf
between them widened into an ocean.

We wore on each other's nerves.  The s^ht, the sound, the closeness of
living so tightly knit had its toll.

I contributed nothing to help and nothing to harm as Bart and Toni
fought it out.  I felt they had to solve their differences between
themselves, and I would only h added complications.  Once again Bart
started visit the local bars, often staying out all night.  I suspectec
spent many a night 'in brothels, or else he'd for someone else in the
city.  Toni spent more time with twins, and since Jory was trying to
teach them to da and speak more clearly, naturally she spent more f
with him as well.

March finally arrived with its fierce rains and wir but also with
welcome faint heralding signs of sprin watched Toni carefully for signs
of taking notice of J as a man and not as a patient.  His eyes follow
wherever she went.  There were a few weeks that y when I was under the
weather with a severe cold, i she took over all duties, including
washing Jory's ba massaging his long legs that were bit by bit losing
tl fine shape.  I hated seeing his beautiful legs turn i thin sticks. I
suggested to Toni that she massage tti several times a day.

"He was always very proud of legs, Toni.  They served him so well and
looked so gi in tights.  So, even if they don't walk or dance, or v
move, do what you can to see they don't lose all tl shape.  Then he can
retain a bit of his pride."

"Cathy, his legs are still beautiful; thin, but < shaped.  He's a
wonderful man, so kind and unc standing and naturally cheerful.  And
you know, for longest time I didn't see anyone but Bart."

"Do you think of Bart as beautiful?"

Her expression changed and grew hard.

"I used Now I'm seeing that he's very handsome, but beautiful in the
way that Jory is.  Once I thought he i perfect, but during our stay in
New York, he showed much ugliness toward me and Cindy that I began
to:

him differently.  He was nasty and cruel to both of Before I knew what
was happening, he embarrassed in a nightclub by jumping on me about my
dress, wf it was a perfectly nice dress.  Maybe it was cut a K1 low,
but all the girls wear dresses like that.  I ca

home from that trip a little afraid of biro.  Every day ray fear of
him grows; he seems too harsh about harmless events and believes that
everyone is wicked.  I think be corrupts himself with his thoughts and
forgets that beauty comes from the soul.  Just last night he accused me
of trying to arouse his brother sexually.  He couldn't talk like that
to me if he really loved me.  Cathy, he'll never love me as I want and
need to be loved.  I woke up this morning feeling a huge emptiness in
my heart, realizing that what I felt for Bart is over.  He's ruined
what we had by letting me know what I'm in for if I marry him," she
went on brokenly.

"He's got an invisible model of the perfect woman, and I'm not perfect.
He thinks your one flaw is your love for Chris ... and if he ever found
a woman he believed is perfect in the beginning, I'm sure he'll keep
looking until he finds something he can hate about her.  So I've given
up on Bart."

I felt embarrassed to ask what I did, but still I had to know.

"But... are you and Bart still lovers, despite your disagreements?"

Furiously she shook her head.

"NO!  Of course not He's changing every day into someone I really can't
even like.  He's found religion, Cathy, and according to the way he
tells it, religion is going to be his salvation.

Every day he tells me I should pray more, go to church ... and stay
away from Jory.  If he keeps it up I think I may well end up hating
him, and I don't want that to happen.  We had something so beautiful
between us in the beginning.  I want to keep that special time like a
flower I can press between the pages of my memory."

She stood up to go, smearing her tears with her balled handkerchief,
tugging down her tight white skirt and trying to smile.

"If you want me to quit so you can hire a new nurse for Jory and his
children, I'll do that."

"No, Toni, stay on," I answered quickly, afraid she'd go anyway.  I
didn't want her to leave now that I knew without a doubt that she
didn't love Bart anymore, and Jory had finally given up hope of
Melodic returning to him.  And with the final hope dead, Jory had at
last turned his eyes on the woman he believed was his brother's
mistress.

As soon as possible I was going to inform him differently.  But..  .
even as Tom left the room, I sat oa and on, thinking of Bart and how
sad it was that he couldn't hold on to love once he had it.  Did he;

deliberately destroy love, afraid it would enslave him as he often
accused me of having enslaved Chris, my own' brother?

The endless days crept by.  No longer did Tom's eydl follow Bart with
wistful yearning, pleading mutely witte him to love her again as he had
in the beginning.  I began to admire the way she could keep her poises'
regardless of some of the insulting innuendoes Bare made during meal
times.  He took her former love foti him and turned it against her,
making it seem she wa|| loose, depraved, immoral and he'd been
wrongfully seduced.  '..^ Dinner after dinner, sitting there and
watching th^ two drift further and further apart, driven there by aft
the ugly words Bart found so easy to say.  j| Toni took my place and
played the games I used q entertain Jory with ... only she could do so
niud| more to light up his eyes and make him feel a ma|j again.  -"Sj,
Bit by bit the days began to mellow, the brown graj|J showed spikes of
fresh green, the crocus came up in to| woods, the daffodils blossomed,
the tulips fired inig flame and the Grecian windflowers that Jory and I
hg planted everywhere the grass didn't grow turned t||l hills into
paint-smeared pallets.  Chris and I stood aglj on the balcony watching
the geese return north as 'ys stared up at our old friend and sometimes
enemy, tij moon.  I couldn't take my eyes from the winged skein ^ they
disappeared beyond the hills.  Jj Life grew better with the coming of
summer, the snow couldn't keep Chris away during the weekends.

Tensions eased now that we had the great outdoors to escape to.

In June the twins were one year and six months old and able to run
freely anywhere we would permit.  We had swings from which they
couldn't fall hung from tree limbs, and how happy they were to be swung
high ... or what they considered high enough to be dangerous.  They
pulled the blossoms off the best of my flowers, but I didn't care--we
had thousands blooming, enough to fill all the rooms with daily fresh
bouquets.

Now Bart was insisting that not only the twins should attend church
services but Chris and I and Jbry and Toni as well.  It seemed a small
enough thing to do.

Each Sunday we sat in our front row pews and stared up at the beautiful
stained-glass window behind the pulpit.  The twins always sat between
Jory and me.  Joel would don a black robe as be preached fire-and-
brimstone sermons.  Bart sat beside me, holding my hand in such a tight
grip I had to listen Or have my bones broken.  Next to Toni,
deliberately separated from me by my second son, was Chris.  I knew
those sermons were meant for us, to save us from eternal hell fires The
twins were restless, like all children their age, and didn't like the
pew, the confinement, the dullness of the overioag services.  Only when
we stood up to sing hymns did they stare up at us and seem enchanted.

"Sing, sing," encouraged Bart, leaning to pinch tiny arms or tug on
golden locks.

"Take your hands off my children!"  snapped Jory.

"They will sing or not sing, as is their choice."

It was on again, the war between brothers.

Autumn again, then Halloween when Chris and I took the twins by their
small hands and led them to the one neighbor we considered "safe"
enough not to recriminate us or our children.  Our little goblins
timidly accepted their first Halloween trick-or-treat candy, then
screamed all the way home with the having two Hershey bars and two
packs of chewing j of their very own.

Winter came, and Christmas and the New ^ started without anything
special happening, for year Cindy didn't fly home; She was too busy
with;

budding career to do more than call long distance write short but
informative letters.  ^ Bart and Toni now moved in different
universes.

Perhaps I was not the only one who guessed that f had fallen deeply in
love with Tom, now that attempts at restoring a brotherly relationship
with 1 had failed.  I couldn't blame Jory, not when Bart taken Melodic
and driven her away and was even) trying to hold fast to Toni just
because he could dA fory's growing interest.  To keep Jory from having
] he was turning again toward Toni... Loving Tom gave Jory new reasons
for living.  It i written in his eyes, written on his new zeal for gett
up early and beginning all those difficult exercii standing for the
first time, using parallel bars we'd h put in his room.  As soon as the
water was enough, he swam the length of our largeswir pool three times
in early mornings and late ever Maybe Toni was still waiting for Bart
to make t wife, though she often denied this.

"No, Cathy, 11 , love him now.  I only pity him for not knowing who'
what he is and, more importantly, what he wants |E himself but money
and more money."  It occurred to li that, inexplicably, Toni was as
rooted here as any oj of us..  "' ; "I The Sunday church services made
me nervous a| tired.  The strong words shouted from the weak lungs | an
old man brought back terrifying memories of anoti er old man I'd seen
but once.  Devil's issue.  DevU spawn.  Evfl seed planted in the wrong
sou.  Evd wicked thoughts were judged the same as wicfce deeds--and
what wasn't sinful to Joel?  Nothing.  Nod inga tall  ^

"We're not going to attend anymore," I stated firmly to Chris, "and we
were fools to even try to please Bart.

I don't like the kind of ideas Joel is planting in the twin's
impressionable young heads."  True to Chris's agreement, he and I
refused to attend "church" services or allow the twins to hear all that
shouting about Hell and its punishments.

Joel came to the play area in the gardens, under the trees where there
were a sandbox, swings, a slide and a spin-a-round that the twins loved
to play on.  It was a fine sunny day in July, and he looked rather
touching and sweet as he sat between the twins and began to teach them
how to do cat cradles, twining the string and intriguing the curious
twins.  They abandoned the sandpile with the pretty awning overhead and
sat beside him, looking up at him in bright anticipation of making a
new friend out of an old enemy.

"An old man knows many little skills to entertain small children.  Do
you know I can make airplanes and boats out of paper?  And the boats
will sail, on the water."  .

Their round eyes of amazement didn't please me, I frowned.  Anyone
could do that.  ^;c "Save your energies for writing new sermons, Joel,"
I said, meeting his meek, watery eyes.

"I grew tired<rf the old ones.  Where is the New Testament in your
sermons?  Teach Bart about that.  Christ was born.  He did deliver his
Sermon on the Mount.  Deliver to him that particular sermon.  Uncle.
Speak to us of forgiveness, of doing unto others as you would have done
onto you  Tell us of the bread cast upon the waters of forgiveness
returning to us tenfold."

"Forgive me if I have been neglectful of our Lord's one truly begotten
son," he said humbly.

"Come, Cory, Carrie," I called, getting up to leave.

"Let's go see what Daddy is doing."

Joel's lowered head jerked upright.  His faded blue eyes took on
heaven's deeper blue.  I bit down on my tongue to observe the twisted
smile that Joel < He nodded sagely.

"Yes, I know.  To you they' 'other twins'--those born of evil seed
planted wrong soil."

"How dare "How dare you say that to me!"  I flared.

I didn't realize then that by occasionally calling J twins by the names
of my beloved dead twins I was!

adding fuel to the fire--a fire that was already, known to me, sending
up small red sparks of " stone.

Comes a Morning Dark

A storm threatened a perfectly lovely summer day' dark ominous clouds,
forcing me to hurry outdoci cut my morning flowers while they were
still fresh' dew.  I drew up short when I saw Toni snipping ye!

and white daisies that she brought to Jory in a s) milk glass vase. 
She put them near the table where.

was working on another watercolor showing ah dark-haired woman very
much like Toni picking ers.  I was hidden by the dense shrubbery and c
take a peek now and then without either one seeing) Por some strange
reason, my intuitiveness warned ml to stay quiet and say nothing.  1
Jory thanked Toni politely, gave her a brief smite swished his brush in
dean water, dipped it in his bhu mixture and added a few touches here
and there "Never can seem to mix the exact color of the sky," N
murmured as if to himself.

"The sky is always changia oh, what I could give to have Turner for
m;

teacher..."

She stood watching the sun play on Jory's wavinj

blue-black hair.  He hadn't shaved, and that made him look twice as
virile, although not as fresh.  Suddenly he looked up and noticed her
overlong stare.

"I apologize for the way I look, Toni," he said as if embarrassed.

"I

was very anxious to be up and busy this morning before the rain sets in
and spoils another day for me.  I hate the days when I can't stay
outside."

Still she said nothing, only stood there, the peekaboo sun glorifying
her beautifully tanned skin.  His eyes drifted over her clean, fresh
face even before he briefly dropped his eyes and took in the rest of
her.

"Thank you for the daisies.  They're not supposed to tell.  What is the
secret?"

Swooping down, she picked up a few sketches he'd tossed at the
wastebasket and missed.  Before she could drop them in the can, she
gave the subjects her attention, and then her lovely face flushed.

"You've been sketching me," she said in a low tone.

"Throw them away!"  he said sharply, "They're no good.  I can paint
Bowers and hills and make fairly good landscapes, but portraits are so
damned difficult.  I cob never capture the essence of you."

"I think these are very good," she objected, them again.

"You shouldn't throw away youti May I keep them?"  s Carefully she
tried to flatten out the wrinkles, and then she was placing them on a
table and stacking heavy books upon them.

"I was hired to take care of you and the twins.  But you never ask me
to do anything for you.  And your mother likes to play with the twins
in the mornings, so that gives me extra time, time enough to do many
things for you.  What can I do for you?"

The brush dripping with gray colored the bottoms of clouds before he
paused and turned his chair so he could look at her.  A wry smile moved
his lips.

"Once I could have thought of something.  Now I suggest you leave me
alone.  Crippled men don't play very exciting games, I'm sorry to
say."

Appearing weary with defeat, she crumpled down on a long, comfortable
chaise.

"Now you're saying i what Bart does all the time--"Go away," he sl
"Leave me alone," he yells.  I didn't think you' same."

"Why not?"  he asked with his own b "We're brothers, hatf-brothers.  We
both 1 hateful moments--and it's better to leave then."

"I drought he was the most wonderful man she said sadly.

"But I guess I can't trust judgment anymore.  I believed Bart wanted
me--now he yells and orders me out of sight.  ^ calls me back and begs
forgiveness.  I want to leave" house and never come back--but
something' " here, keeps whispering that it's not time * go..."

"Yes," said Jory, beginning to paint i careful strokes, tipping me
board to make run and create "accidental" blendings that worked out
beautifully.

"That's Fbxworth Hall.

you enter its portals, you seldom are seen again.

"Your wife escaped."

"So she did; more credit to her than I believed it happened."

"You sound so bitter."

"I'm not bitter, I'm sour, like a pickle.  I enjoy tt life.  I am
caught between Heaven and Hell in a kindl purgatory where ghosts of the
past roam the hallways^ night.  I can hear the clank and donk of their
restrain ai chams, and I can only be grateful they never i----"'
perhaps the silent tread of my rubber-runn scares diem off."

"Why do you stay if you feel that way?"

Jory shoved away from his painting table, th riveted Ids dark eyes on
her.

"What the hell are ye doing here with me?  Go to your lover. Apparently
yo like the way he treats you, or easily enough you could escape.  You
aren't chained here with memories, wH hopes or dreams that don't come
true.  You aren't

Fbxworth, nor a Sheffield.  This Hall holds, no chains to bind you."

"Why do you hate him?"

"Why don't you hate him?"

"I do sometimes."

"Trust your sometime judgment and get out.  Get out before you are
made, by osmosis, into one of us."

"And what are you?"

Jory drove his chair to the rim of the flagstones, where the flowerbeds
began, and stared off toward the mountains.

"Once I was a dancer, and I never thought beyond that.  Now that I
can't dance, I have to presume that I am nothing of importance to
anyone.  So I stay, thinking I belong here more than I belong anywhere
else."

"How can you say what you just did?  Don't you believe you're important
to your parents, your sister, and most of all to your children?"

"They don't realty neeA me, do they?  And my parents have each other.
My children have them.  Bart has you.  Cindy has her career.  That
leaves me the odd man out."

Toni stood, stepped behind his chair and began to massage his neck with
skillful fingers.

"Does your back still bother you at night?"

"No," he said in a hoarse voice.  But it did, Iknew it did.  Hidden
behind the shrubs, I went right on snipping roses, sensing they didn't
know I was there.

"If ever your back aches again, buzz for me and I'll a massage to take
away the pain."

Ing his chair around in a full about-face, Jory ed her fiercely.  She
had to jump back out of the way or be knocked down.

"So, it seems if you can't get one brother, you'll settle for the other
the crippled one who can't possibly resist your many charms?

Thanks, but no thanks.  My mother will massage my aching back."

Slowly she drifted away, turning twice to look back at him.  She didn't
know that she left him staring after her with his heart in his eyes.
She closed a French d behind her quietly.  I stopped cutting roses for
breakfast table and sat on the grass.  Behind me twins were playing
"church."

Following Chris's instructions, we were doing we could to increase
their vocabulary daily, and instructions seemed to be working
wonders.

"And the Lord said to Eve, go forth from place."  Danren's childish
voice was fall of giggles.

I turned to look.

Both children had removed their brief sun suits , taken off small white
sandals.  Deirdre stuck a leaf her brother's small male organ, then
stared down at own private place.  She frowned.

"Dare ... wh sinning?"

"Like running,"" answered her brother.

"Bad w' you're barefoot," They both giggled and jumped up to run toward
i I caught them in my arms and held their soft, wa nude bodies close,
raining kisses on their faces.

"H

you eaten your breakfast9" "Yes, Granny.  Toni fed us grapefruit, which
we h.

We ate everything but the eggs.  Don't like eggs."

That was Deirdre who did most of the talking Darren, just as Carrie had
been Cory's voice mosi the time.

"Mom--how long have you been there?"  cal Jory.  He sounded annoyed, a
bit embarrassed.

Rising, I held the naked twins in my arras, < headed for Jory.

"I found Toni in the pool teaching twite how to swim,-so I took over
and asked her to 1< in on you.  They're doing very nicely in the water
m paddling all around with confidence.  Why didn't;

join us this morning?"

"Why did you keep yourself hidden?"

"Just snipping my morning roses, Jory.  You kno do that every day. It's
the one thing that makes < house cozy, the cut flowers I put in every
room the i thing in the roomings."  Playfully I stuck a red r

behind his ear.  Quickly he snatched it away and stuffed it in with
the daisies Toni had brought him.

"You heard Toni and me, didn't you?"

"Jory, when I am outdoors in August knowing September isn't far away, I
just grab each moment and value it for what it is.  The rose scent is
in my nostrils, making me think I am in Heaven, or in Paul's garden.

He had the most beautiful gardens.  All kinds.  He divided sections
into those that held English gardens, Japanese, Italian--" "I've heard
aH that before!"  he said impatiently.

"I

asked if you heard us?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did bear every fascinating thing, and when
I had the chance, I peeked above the roses to watch the two of you."

He scowled very much like Bart as I moved to put the twins on their
feet, then gave their bare bottoms small spanks, telling them to find
Toni, who would help them dress.  They scuttled away, little naked
dolls.

I sat down to smile at Jory, who glowered at me accusingly.  He seemed
even more luce Bart when he looked angry.

"Really, fcry, I didn'tIme^ick e;8ves* drop.  I was there before
eitterbf yon eaSi^Ac^ paused and looked at his ftowiamg fittse,
^'ycl^Awe Tom, don't you?"  ^; r 4 "I don't love her; She's Bart's!
Damne^l^oitto take Bart's leavings again."

"Again?"

"Come off it.  Mom.  You know as well as I do the real reason why Md
left this house.  He made it plain enough, and so did she that
Christmas morning when the dapper ship was mysteriously broken.  She'd
have stayed on here forever if Bart had kept his position as
replacement for me.  I think she fell in love with him inadvertently,
while trying to satisfy her need for me and the sex we shared.  I used
to hear her crying in the night.  I'd lie on my bed, wanting to go to
her but unable to move, feeling sorry for her, sorrier for myself.  It
was hell then.  It's hell now.  A different kind of hell."

"Jory--what can I do to help?"  | He leaned forward, meeting my eyes
with s^ intensity I was reminded of Julian and the many ways which I
had thwarted him.  | "Mom, despite all this house represents to you
5!

grown to feel like home to me.  The halls and doorwK are wide.  There's
the elevator to take me up and do<| There're the swimming pool, the
terraces, the gard6 and the woods.  Actually, a kind of paradise on
eartH but for a few flaws.  I used to think I couldn't wait to""' away.
Now I don't want logo, and I don't really' to worry you any more than
you already are, yet 11 speak."

I waited with dread to hear about those few "flav "When I was a child,
I believed the world was fui many wonders, and miracles could still
happen, a blind men would one day see, and the lame would 08 day walk,
and so forth.  Thinking like that made all I unfairness I saw all
around, all the ugliness, md better.  I think the ballet kept me from
fully growing u so I maintained the idea that miracles could ^ happen
if you believed in them enough--like that s "When you wish upon a star,
your dreams come tr And in the ballet miracles do happen all the time,
stayed childlike even after I became an adult.  I st believed that in
the outside world, the real woi| everything would work out fine in the
long run if believed enough.  Mel and I had that in commo There's
something about ballet that keeps you virgiffl so to speak.  You see no
evil, hear no evil, though won't mention speak no evil.  You know what
I mea I'm sure, for it was your world, too."  He paused ai glanced up
at the threatening sky.  ;

"In that world I had a wife who loved me.  In t| outside world, the
real world, she quickly found replacement lover.  I hated Bart for
taking her when needed her most.  Then I'd hate Mel for allowing him 1
use her as just another way to get back at me.  He's st

doing it.  Mom.  And I wouldn't trouble you with what's going on if I
wasn't sometimes afraid for my life.  Afraid for my children."

I listened to him, trying not to show shock as he spoke of all he'd
never hinted at before.

"Remember the parallel bars I exercise on, in order to use the back and
leg braces?  Well, somebody scraped the metal so that when I slip my
bands along the rails I get metal splinters in both hands.  Dad dug
them out for me and made me promise not to tell you."

I shivered, shrank inside.

"What else, Jory?  That's not all, lean tell from the way you look."

"Nothing much.  Mom.  Just little things to make my life miserable,
like insects in my coffee, tea and milk.

My sugar bowl filled with salt, and my salt cellar full of sugar ...
dumb tricks, childish pranks that could be dangerous.  Tacks appear in
my bed, in the seat of my chair... oh, it's Halloween tone all the time
in this house for me.  At times I want to laugh, it's so silly.  But
when I slip on a shoe and there's a nail in the toe that I can't feel,
and it gives me an infection because my leg drculation isn't top-notch,
it's not a laughing matter.  It could cost me a leg.  I waste so much
time looking everything over before I use it, like my razor with new
blades that are suddenly rusty."  ^ ; I* ;.

He looked around as if to see if Joel or Bart were in earshot, and even
though he saw nothing, for I looked, too, still his voice lowered to a
whisper.

"Yesterday was very warm, remember?  You yourself opeaed three of my
windows so I'd have fresh, cool breezes--then the wind shifted and blew
from the north, and it turned dramatically cold.  You came on the run
to close my windows, to cover me with another blanket.  I fell back to
sleep.  Half an hour later I woke up from a dream of being at the North
Pote.  The windows--all six of them--were wide open.  Rain blew in and
wet my bed.

But that wasn't the worst of it.  My blankets had been removed.  I
turned to ring for someone to come to my assistance.  My buzzer was
gone.  I sat up and for my chair.  It wasn't where I usually put it,
beside my bed.  For a moment I panicked.  1 because I'm much stronger
now in my arms, I low el myself to the floor, used my arms to pull
myself < a regular chair that I could shove near the w' Once I was on
the chair seat, 1 could have easil the windows down.  But the first one
refused to 1 moved the chair to another window, and than close any more
than the first one would.  Stuck with 1 fresh coat of paint applied a
few weeks ago.  I kill then it was useless to try the other four and
brave tl fiercely cold wet rain and wind, for my leverage was right,
even if my arms are strong.  Yet, foolhardy as y often say I am, I
persisted.  No luck.  That's when I f myself on the floor again and
made my way to the da It was locked.  I dragged myself along by pulling
furniture tegs until I was in die closet, and there | pulled down a
winter coat, covered myself and f asleep."

What had happened to my face?  It felt so numb that couldn't move my
lips and speak, nor could I manage i show shock.  Jory stared at me
hard.

"Mom, are you listening?  Are you thinking?  NomI don't try to comment
until I complete this story!

As I just said, I fell asleep in the closet, on the floor, soaking wet
When I woke up, I was back on my bed.  ^ dry bed, die sheet and
blankets covered me, and I wai wearing a fresh pair of pajamas."  He
paused dramatically and met my horrified eyes.  1 "Mom ... if someone
in this house wanted me to catch pneumonia and die, would that someone
have put me back in bed and covered me up?  Dad wasn't home to pick me
up and carry me, and certainly you don't have the strength to do that."
1!

"But," I whispered, "Bart doesn't hate you that much.  We doesn't hate
you at all..."  ^ "Perhaps it was Trevor who found me, and not Bart.

But somehow I don't think Trevor is young and strong enough to lift
me.  Still, somebody here hates me," Jory stated firmly.

"Somebody who would like to see me gone.  I've thought about this
considerably and come to the conclusion that it had to have been Bart
who found me in the closet and put me back to bed.  Has this occurred
to you if you.  Dad, I and the twins were out of the way, Bart would
have our money as well as his own?"

"But he's already filthy rich!  He doesn't need morel" Jory spun his
chair so that it faced east, staring at the faded sun.

"I've never really been afraid of Bart before.  I have always pitied
him and wanted to help him.  I think about taking the twins and leaving
with you and Dad .. . but that's a coward's way.  If Bart did open
those windows to let in the rain and wind, he later changed his mind
and came back to rescue me.  I think about the clipper ship and how it
was broken, and certainly Bart couldn't have been responsible for that,
not when he wanted it so much.  And I think about Joel, whom you think
was responsible andagain I think about who influences Bart more than
anyone here.

Someone is taking Bart and twisting him and turning back the clock, so
he's again like that tormented ten-year-old kid who wanted you and his
grandmother to die in fire and be redeemed ..."

"Please, Jory, you said you'd never mention that period in our lives
again."

Silence came, stretched out interminably before he went on.

"The fish in my aquarium died last night.

Their air filter was turned off.  The temperature control smashed,"
Once again he paused, watching my face closely.

"Do you believe any of what I've just told you?"

I fixed my eyes on the blue-misted mountains with their soft, rounded
tops to remind me of ancient, gigantic, dead virgins laid out in jagged
rows, their up-thrust, moss-covered bosoms all that remained.  My eyes
lifted to the sky, deeply blue, and the feat hi brushed storm clouds
with wisps of shimmering g( clouds behind them, heralding a better day.
;

Under such skies as this, surrounded by the sal mountains, Chris, Cory,
Carrie and I had faced tern while God watched.  My fingers nervously
wiped aw those invisible cobwebs, trying to find the right won to say.
N "Mom, as much as I hate to say this, I think we ha to give up on
Bart.  We can't trust his now-and-tft love for us.  He needs
professional help again.  Truth!

ly, I've always believed he had a great deal of lo within him that he
didn't know how to release < express.  And here I am, now thinking he's
beyo saving.  We can't drive him out of his own home--unh we want him
declared insane and put in an institution.

don't want that to happen, and I know you don't.  S( all we can do is
leave.  And isn't it funny--now I dori want to go, even when my life is
threatened.  I've growl accustomed to this house; I love it here, so I
risk np life, the lives of all of us.  The intrigue of what migU happen
today keeps me from ever being bored.  Moid the worst thing in my life
is boredom."

I wasn't half listening to Jory.  a My eyes widened as I saw Deirdre
and Darre following Joel and Bart to the small chapel, which hat its
own outside door that could be reached from tfM gardens.  They
disappeared inside, and the door closed I forgot my basket of cut roses
and jumped to m] feet.  Where was Toni?  Why wasn't she protecting un
twins from Bart, from Joel?  Then I fete foolish, for wirj should she
feel that Bart or Joel was a threat to twc such small, innocent
children?  Still I said a hastj goodbye to Jory, told him not to worry,
I'd be back in i few minutes with Darren and Deirdre so we could al eat
lunch together.

"Jory, you win be all right if I leav< you alone for a few moments?"

"Sure, Mom.  Go after my kids.  I spoke to Trevor this

morning, and he gave me a battery-operated two-way intercom.  Trevor
can be fully trusted."

Believing wholeheartedly in our butler's loyalty, I sped after the
foursome already in the chapel.

Minutes later I sneaked through the small downstairs inside door to
enter the chapel that Joel had told Bart was truly necessary if he were
to redeem his soul from sin.  It was a small room that tried to
duplicate what many old castles and palaces contained for family
worship.  There was Bart kneeling behind the first pew^ with Darren on
one side and Deirdre on the other.  Joel stood behind the pulpit, his
gray head bowed as he began to pray.  Stealthily I inched myself closer
to bide in the shadow of an arch strut.

"We don't like it here," complained Deirdre in a loud whisper to Bart.
- .

"Be quiet.  This is God's place," Bart warned.  k "I hear my kitty
crying," said Darren weakly, cringing away from Bart..  ',.".;
^r-'^.;^' ,fe:^1'^," "You cannot possibly hear your cattWMye^csyw^ from
such a distance,.  Besides, it's not your kitty.  It's Trevor's kitten,
which he only allows you to play wi(h>,% Both the twins began to
sniffle, trying to hold back cries of distress.  They both adored
latteas, floppies, birds, anything that was little and cute.

"SILENCE"

roared Bart.

"I don't hear anything from the outside, but if you listen carefully.
God win speak and tell you how to survive."

"What's survive?"

"Darren, why do you let your sister ask all the questions?"

"She likes questions better."

"Why is it so dark in here, Uncte Bart?"

"Deirdre, like all females, you talk too much."

She began to wail louder.

"I do not' Gramma likes my talk..."

"Your gram ma likes anyone's talk as long as it isn't mine," answered
Bart bitterly, pinching Deirdre's small arm to make her stay quiet.

Dozens of candles burned on the podium where Joel lifted his head.  Hie
architects had arranged for ceiling t to converge on whomever was
behind the pulpit, ng Joel squarely in the center of a mystical,!

cial, light cross.  I In a dear and loud voice he said, "We will stand
and a we will sing the praises of the Lord before today's sermon
begins."  His voice was resonant, assured and| authoritative, a I had
eased myself by this time to a position behind as supporting pillar
from which I could spy and not be| seen.  Like two small robots, the
twins, who'd obviously!

been here many times before without their father^ Chris, me or Toni,
were well trained and intimidated."

They stood obediently, one on each side of Bart, who kept his hands
restraiiringly on their small shoulders,!

and they began, with him, to sing hymns.  Their voices were frail,
faltering, unable to carry the tune weB.

"Yed they made mighty efforts to keep up with Bart, who stunned me with
his surprisingly good baritone singing voice.  ^ Why hadn't Bart sung
out like that when we attended the chapel services?  Did Chris and I,
with Jory, sffi intimidate Bart that he held back what had to be aA
God-given natural gift?  When we'd praised Cindy fotfi her singing
voice, he had just frowned and said nothing!, to indicate that he had a
wonderful voice as well.  Ob^ the complexity of Bart was likely to
drive me may.  i Under other, less sinister circumstances I would have
been thrilled to hear Bart's voice lifted so joyously, hH^ whole heart
in it.  Some filtering sunlight fell through!

the stained glass windows to glorify his face with colon of purple,
rose and green.  How beautiful he appeared!

as he sang, with his eyes lit up, as if he truly had the power of the
Holy Ghost, a I was touched by his faith in God.  Tears came to my|

eyes as a sense of relief washed over me and made me feel clean.

Oh, Bart, you can't be all evil if you can smg like that, and look like
that.  It isn't too late to save you, it can't be.

No wonder Melodie bad loved turn.  No wonder Toni was unable to turn
her back and leave such a man.

"Oh, sing this song ... this song of love to thee, In God we trust, in
God we trust..."

His voice soared, overwhelming the thin voices of the twins.  I was
lifted up and out of myself, willing to believe in the powers of God. I
sank down on my knees, bowing my head.

"Thank you.  God," I whispered.

"Thank you fix- saving my son."

Then I was staring at him again, catching the Holy Spirit and willing
to believe in anything he did.  Words came out of the past.  Bart had
been with us at the time.

"We've got to be careful with Jory," warned Chris.

"His immunity system has been impaired.  We cant allow him to catch a
cold that might fill his tones with fluid..."- ."....^- : -. ;- -
^.Still I knelt on, transfixed.  Now I could not believe Bart was
anything but a very troubled young man trying desperately to find what
was right for himself.

Bart's powerful singing voice drew to the end of toe hymn.  Oh, if only
Cindy could have heard him.  If only they could both sing together, the
two of them friends at last, joined by their equal talents.  There was
no one to applaud when he song ended.  There was only silence and die
thud of my beating heart.

The twins stared up at Bart with wide, innocent, blue eyes.

"Sing again.  Uncle Bart."  pleaded Deirdre.

"Sing about the rock..."

Now I knew why they came to this chapel--to hear their uncle sing, to
feel what I was feeling, an unseen presence that was warm and
comforting.

Without any accompaniment, Bart sang "Rock of Ages."  I was by this
time a limp rag of emotions.  With a voice like that he could have the
world at his feet, and he locked away his talent in an office.

"That's enough, nephew," said Joel when the second song was over.

"Everyone wiB sit, and we will begin today's sermon."

Obediently, Bart sat and pulled the twins down beside him.  He kept his
arm about each in such a protective way that I was again moved to
tears.  Did he love Jbry's twins?  Had he, all this time, only
pretended^ to dislike them because they resembled the evil twins of
yesterday?  - - : .  : .;| "Let us bow our heads and pray," instructed
Joel.  ^ My bead bowed as well.  | I listened to his prayer with
incredulity.  He sounded| so professional, so concerned for those who
had never| experienced the joy of being "saved" and belongiq^ entirely
to Christ.  ^ "When you open your heart and let Christ enter, 'it||
fills you with love.  When you love the Lord, love n^ son who died for
you, and you believe in the righteoig ways of God and his son crucified
so cruelly on that|j cross, you will find the peace of fulfillment
that's alway^ eluded you before.  Lay down your sins, your sword^| your
shields, your thirsts for power and money.  P(|| away your earthly
lusts that crave the pleasures of nes^ Lay down all your earthly
appetites that can never q satisfied and believe, believe!  Follow in
the footsteps f Christ.  Follow where he led, believe in his teachNq
and you will be saved.  Saved from the evils of tt|H world of sin and
lust for sex and power.  Save youiself before it is too late!"  .1^ His
zealot's fire was frightening.  Why couldntlH believe in his fiery
sermon as I believed is BaqI beautiful singing voice?  Why were visions
of windaJg rain pouring in on Jory washing me clean of Jo(U
evangelistic oratory?  I felt I'd betrayed Jory by 1 moment's belief
that even Joel was what he seemed to be at this moment.

There was more to his sermon.  I was startled at the casual,
conversational tone he now assumed, as if he were talking directly to
Bart.

"The voices in the village are momentarily lulled because we have
constructed in this great mountain mansion a small temple dedicated to
the worship of God.  The workmen who constructed this divine house of
worship and created the elaborate embellishments have told them what we
have done, and others spread the word that the Fbxworths are trying to
salvage their souls.  They no longer speak of revenge upon the
Roxworths, who have ruled over them for more than two hundred years.
They bear deep in their hearts many grudges for deeds done to them in
the past by our self-serving, self-centered ancestors.

They have not forgotten or forgiven the sinsofCorrine Foxworth, who
married her half-uncle, nor have they forgotten the sins of thy mother,
Bart, and the brother she loves.  Under your very roof she still: gives
him the pleasure of enjoying her body, as she takes her pleasure with
him... and under God's own heavenly blue sky, those two lie naked in
the sun before they btendooe with the other.  They are addicted- to one
another, .a?

surely as if they were addicted to one of the many drugs that abound in
today's immoral, headstrong, selfish, heedless society.

"He, the doctor, her very own brother, redeems himself somewhat in his
efforts to serve mankind, dedicating his professional life to medicine
and science.

So he can be more easily forgiven than the sinful woman, thy mother,
who gives nothing to the world but a perverted daughter who will turn
out perhaps even worse, and a firstborn son who danced indecently for
money!  For glorifying his body!  And for that sin he has paid, and
dearly paid, by losing the use of his legs, and in losing his legs, he
lost his body, and in losing his body, he lost his wife.  Rate has
infinite wisdom when it comes to deciding whom to punish and whon
assist."  Again he paused, as if for dramatic cf before he fixed his
piercing zealot's eyes on Bart, to burn his will into the brain of my
son by pure fe "Now, my son, I know you love your mother and would at
times forgive her anything ... wrong, w --for wiM God?  No, I don't
think so.  Save her, for can God forgive her when she is responsible
for lu her brother into her arms?"

He paused, his pale eyes lit with religious ;

waiting for Bart to respond.

"I'm hungry!"  wailed Deirdre suddenly.

"Me, too," cried Barren.

"You'll stay, and you will do what you have to d< suffer the
consequences!"  shouted Joel from the pu Immediately the twins shrank
into small, tight sh staring at Joel with immense eyes of fear.  What
had done to put that fear there?  Oh, God, had I given or Bart an
opportunity to hurt them in some wayl Long minutes passed, as if Joel
were delibers testing them.  I wanted to jump up and cry out to;

Joel from implanting foul ideas in the heads of inno babes.  But there
sat Bart, as if not hearing Joel's w at all.  He had his dark eyes
riveted on the magnifi stained-glass window directly behind the pu
Stained glass that showed Jesus with the little chill at his feet,
leaning against his knees, staring up int< face with adoration.  That
same adoration was on Bi face.  He wasn't listening to his great-uncle.
He filling himself with fte presence even I could feel in place.

God did exist, had always been there even will wanted to deny him.

The words of Christ did have meaning in tod world--and somehow his
teachings had reached and found a place in Bart's maze of troubled b
waves.

"Bart, your niece and nephew are falling asle<

roared Joel angrily.

"You neglect your duty!  Wake them up!  Immediately!"

"Suffer the little children.  Uncle Joel," said Bart.

"Your sermons last too long and they become bored and restless.  They
are not evil or contaminated.  They were born within the holy vows of
marriage.  They are not the first twins, the blood-related twins.
Uncle--not the evil twins ..."

Even as I saw Bart lifting Darren and Deirdre up into his arms, holding
them in a protective way, I felt fear confused with hope.  Bart was
proving himself to be lust as fine and noble as his father.  No sooner
did I think that when I heard words that chilled my blood.  I froze in
the shadows.

Bart bad risen with the twins in his arms.

"Put them down," ordered Joel, his sermon over and his strong voice
diminished to his habitual thin whisper.  Had he drained his supply of
energy so that now he was ineffective?  I prayed so.  / ';?

"Now, children who have not learned how (o control physical demands,
repeat the lessons I have tried to teach you.  Speak, and tell me,
Darren, Deirdre!  Speak the words you are supposed to keep forever in
your minds and hearts.  Speak, and let God hear."

They had such babyishly small voices that seldom said more than a few
words at a time.  They sometimes used the wrong syntax ... but this
time they intoned as correctly and as seriously as adults.

Bart listened carefully, as if he'd helped coach them.

"We are children born of evil seed.  We are the Devil's issue, the
Devil's spawn.  We have inherited all the evil genes that lead to
inces--ncestuous relationships."

Pleased with themselves, they grinned at each other for having said it
right, not understanding in the feast the meaning of the words.  Then
both the twins turned serious blue eyes on that forbidding old man
behind the pulpit.

"Tomorrow we will continue with our lessons."

said, Joel closed his huge black Bible.

Bart picked up the twins, kissed their cheeks and them that now they
could put on clean, dry pants, lunch, take baths and have nice naps
before attested chapel services again.

That's when I stood up and stepped into full v "Bart, what are you
trying to do to Jory's childrci My son stared at me, his sun-bronzed
skin going' pate.

"Mother, you aren't supposed to come 1 except on Sundays..."

"Why?  Do you hope to keep me away so you mold the twins into warped
human beings you punish later on?  Is that your purpose?"

"Who warped you into what you arc?"  asked coldly, his eyes small and
hard.

In a wild fury of rage, I spun to confront him.  "^ parents!"  I
screamed.

"Your sister, Joel, locked w and kept us there, living on promises year
after y white Chris and I were fuming into adults with no to love but
each other.  So place the blame on those' made Chris and I what we are.
But before you say more word, I'm having my say.

"I love Chris, and / am not ashamed.  You thil have given nothing of
importance to the world, there stands your great-nephew, holding my
grand) dren, and on the terrace is another of my sons.  i they are not
contaminated!  They are not Devil's is or Devil's spawn--and don't you
ever, as long as five, dare to say those words again to anyone '
belongs to me, or I will see that you are put away declared senile!"

Color came to Bart's face as what color he had departed from Joel's
pasty skin.  ?8 desperate, fac blue eyes sought to meet Bart's, but
Bart was starin me as if he'd never seen me before.

"Mother," he;

weakly, and- would have said more, but die twins I from his arms and
ran to me.

"Hungry, Gramma, hungry My eyes locked with Bart's.

"You have the most beautiful singing voice I have ever heard," I said,
backing away and taking the twins with me.

"Be your own man, Bart.  You don't need Joel.  You have found your
talent, now use it."

He stood there frozen, as if he had volumes to say, but Joel was
tugging on his arm, imploring, just as the twins were crying for
lunch.

Heaven Can't Wait

Jory fell very ill a few days later with a cold that just wouldn't go
away.  The cold, wet rain and winds had done their work.  He lay on his
bed with his temperature soaring, his brow glistening with beads of
perspiration, writhing and turning his head incessantly from side to
side, as he moaned, groaned and failed repeatedly for Melodic.  I saw
Toni wince each dme he did that, even as she did her best to nurse
him.

As I watched her with him, I saw that she truly did care for Jory; it
was clear in every caring thing she did, in her soft, compassionate
eyes and her lips that brushed his face whenever she thought I wasn't
looking..  -- .  " ^ ^--1.!  ;

She turned to give me a brave smile.

"Try not to worry so much, Cathy," she pleaded, bathing Jory's bare
chest with cool water.

"Most people don't realize that a fever is usually very helpful in
burning up viruses.  As a doctor's wife Fm sure you already know this
and are just worried that he will go into pneumonia.

He won't.  I'm sure he won't."

"Let's pray he won't..."

I still worried, she was only a nurse without the medical expertise of
Chris.  I called him every houi trying to find him in that huge
university lab.  Wh wasn't Chris responding to my urgent calls?  I
began t feel not only worried but angry that Chris couldn't b reached.
Hadn't he promised to always be here whe he was needed?

Two days had passed since Joel preached his sen nor and Chris had not
called home.  ;

The sweltering, humid weather and intermittent rai and electrical
storms did nothing but create moi misery and havoc in my mind.  Thunder
crashed ovel head.  Lightning flashed, momentarily lighting up dari
forbidding skies.  Near my feet the twins were playin and whispering
about it being time for lessons in th chapel.

"Please, Gramma.  Uncle Joel says we mm come."

"Deirdre, Darren, I want you to listen to me asi forget what your Uncle
Joel and Uncle Bart tell yo| Your father wants you to stay with me and
Toni, ne| him.  You know your daddy is sick, and the last thig he'd
want is for his son and daughter to be visiting th chapel where ...:.
where ..."  and here I stumblet For what could I say about Joel that
wouldn't somehow rebound later?  He was teaching what he believed wA
right.  If only he had not taught them those phrases * I Devil's issue.
Devil's spawn, a| Instantly the two of them wailed, as if of one min
"WiB Daddy die?"  they cried out simultaneously, i "No, of course he
won't die.  What do you two kn about death, anyway?"  I went on to
explain that tl grandfather was a wonderful doctor and he'd be corn
home any second, i They stared at me without comprehension befoi
realized they often mouthed words they'd learned' rote and had no
understanding of what they sj Death what could they know about (hat?  4
Toni turned to give me a strange look.

"You N something?  As I help those two on and off with clothes and
give them baths, they keep up a constant chatter.  They're really very
remarkable and bright children.  I guess being around adults so much
has taught them more swiftly than playing with other children would
have.  Most of what they say while playing alone is silly gibberish.
Then out of this silly gibberty-junk come serious words, adult words.
Their eyes widen.  They speak in whispers.  They look around and seem
afraid.  It's as if they are expecting to see someone, or something,
and in low tones they suddenly warn each other of God and his wrath. It
alarms me."

She looked from me and the twins back to Jory.

"Tom, listen carefully.  Never allow the twins out of your sight.  Keep
them with you at all times during the day, unless you know positively
they are with me or Jory, or my husband.  When you're caring for Jory
and are too preoccupied to keep an eye on them, call me and 111 take
them over.  Above all, don't let them go off with Joel," and as much as
I hated to, I had to add Bart's name.

She threw me another worried look.

"Cathy, I think it was not only that thing that happened in New York
with Cindy, and with me, but also what Joel had to say when we came
back that made Bart start looking at me as if I were the worst kind of
sinner.  It hurts to have the man you dunk you love hurl such ugly
accusations."

Again she was bathing Jory's arms and chest.

"Jory would never say such ugly things, no matter what I did.

Sometimes he looks fierce, but even then he's thoughtful enough to say
nothing to damage my ego.  I never knew a man so thoughtful and
compassionate."

"Are you saying now that you love Jory?"  I asked, wanting to believe
she did but afraid her disappointment was rebounding and making Jory
only a substitute love.

She blushed and bowed her head.

"I've been in this house almost two years, and I've seen and heard a
great many things.  In this house I found sexual satisfaction with
Bart, but it wasn't romantic or sweet, just exriti Only now am I
beginning to feel the romance of a a who tries to understand me and
give me what I ne His eyes never condemn.  Never do his lips shout'
terrible things, when I haven't done anything I thin;

terrible.  My love for Bart was a burning hot f kindled to a blaze the
first day we met, while my 1 stayed in quicksand, never knowing what he
wanted what he needed, except he wanted someone 1 you .. ."

"I wish you'd stop saying that, Toni," I objected v discomfort.  Bart
still disliked himself so much he tea a woman turning away from him
first, and to keep t from happening, be discarded Melodic before she 1
the chance to turn against him.  Later, he turned self-loathing against
Toni before she could hate him;

leave him.  Again I sighed.

Toni agreed never to discuss Bart with me again,;

then she began with my help to slip a clean paja jacket onto Jory.  We
worked together as a team wl the twins played on the floor, shoving
little cars s trucks along just like Cory and Carrie had done.

"Just be sure which brother it is you tove before 3 hurt both of them.
I'm going to talk to my husband i Jory again, and I'm doing my damndest
to see that move out of this house just as soon as Jory recovc You can
go with us if that is your choice."

Her pretty gray eyes widened.  She looked from back to Jory, who had
rolled on his side and i murmuring incoherently in his delirium.

"Mel..

that our cue?"  I think he was saying.

"No, it's Toni, your nurse," she said softly, caress his hair and
brushing it back from his beaded bn "You have a very bad cold .. . but
soon you'll feel j fine."

Jory stared up at her in a disoriented way, as if try to distinguish
this woman torn the one he drean about every night.  During the day he
had eyes only

Toni, but in the night.  Melodic came back to haunt him.  What was
there about the human condition that made us hold on to tragedy with
such tenacity and easily forgo the happiness we could reach readily?  ,
He began to cough violently, choking and pulling up huge wads of
phlegm.  Tenderly Toni held his head, then threw away the soiled
tissues.

Everything she did for him she did with tenderness, fluffing his
pillows, massaging his back, moving his legs to keep them supple even
if he couldn't control them.  I couldn't help but be impressed with all
that she did to make him comfortable.

I backed off toward the door, feeling I was an intruder during a very
important private moment as Jory's eyes came into focus enough for him
to pick up her hand and meet her eyes.  Even as sick as he was,
something in his eyes spoke to her.  Quietly I caught hold of Dan-en's
hand, and then Deirdre's.

"Got to go now," I whispered even as tl~ watched Torn trembtb before
her head bowed, -^ r'hb.hAg ^. wi >;-,".  % / To my surprise, just
before I closed the doar,she put his hand to her lips and kissed each
of his fingers, "I'm taking advantage of you' she wiaspeied, "at a time
when you can't fight back, but I need to teB you what a fool I've been.
You were here all the time, and I never saw you.  Never saw you at all
when Bart stood in the way."  , - ;--, ^ ," .. ^' ^ .  - -"- . ;.^
Weakly Jory answered, his eyes warm as they drank in the sincerity of
her word sand most of all, her loving, warm expression.

"I guess it's easy to overtook a man in a wheetehair, and perhaps that
alone was enough to make you blind.  But I've been here, waiting,
hoping..."

"Oh, Jory, don't hold it against me because I let Bart dazzle me with
his charm.  I was overwhelmed and sort of flabbergasted that be found
me so desirable.  He swept me off my feet.  I think every woman
secretly warns a man who refuses to take no for an answer, and pursues
her relentlessly until she has to give in.  Forgive me for being a
fool, and an easy conquest."

"It's all right, all right," he whispered, then his eyes.

"Just don't let what you feel for pity--or I'll know."

"You're what I wanted Bart to be!"  she cried out as her lips neared
his.  , This time I did close the door.  i Back in my own rooms, I sat
down near the teteh phone waiting for Chris to call in response to my
many urgent messages.  On the verge of sleep, with the twim tucked
neatly in my bed for their naps, the phone rang| I snatched up the
receiver, said hello.  A deep, grufl voice asked for Mrs.  Sheffield,
and I identified myself.

"We don't want you and youNdnd here," said dial frightening, deep
voice.

"We know "what's going on up there.  That little chapel you built don't
fool us none;

It's a sham to hide behind while you flaunt God's rufel of decency. Get
out--before we take God's win into our own hands and drive every last
one ofjou awa| from our mountains."  ;

Unable to find a clever reply, I sat stunned and very shaky before he
hung up.  For long moments I just sat there with the receiver in my
hand.  The sun broke through the clouds and warmed my face .. only
thefi did I hang up.  I looked around me at the rooms I myseU had
decorated to please my own taste, and found, muc to my surprise, that
these rooms no longer rem inde me of my mother and her second husband.
In here well only remnants of the past that I wanted to remembel Cory
and Carrie's baby pictures in silver frames 01 my dresser, placed next
to those of Darren an Deirdre.  They were look-alike twins, but when yo
knew them well, you could see they weren't the same My eyes moved to
the next silver frame, and there w Paul smiling at me, and Henny was in
another.  Julia sulked, in a way he used to think sexy, from a gol
frame, and I also had a few snapshots of his motnei

Madame Marisha, framed to keep near her son.  But nowhere did I have a
photograph of Bartholomew Winslow.  I stared at the picture of my own
father, who'd died when I was twelve.  So much like Chris, only now
Chris looked older.  Turn around, and the boy you knew so well was a
man.  The years flew by so swiftly;

once a day had seemed longer than a year did now.

Again I looked at the two sets of twins.  It would take only someone
very familiar with both sets to recognize the slight differences. There
was a hint of Melodic in Jory's children, a vague resemblance.  I
stared at another picture, with Chris and myself, taken when we still
lived in Gladstone, Pennsylvania.  I'd been ten, he'd just turned
thirteen.  We stood in three feet of snow beside the snowman we'd just
finished, smiling at Daddy as he took yet another picture.  A
photograph turning brown, one that our mother had put in her blue
album.  Our blue album now.

Little snippets of our lives were caught in all those little squares
and obtong&of slide paper.  Frozen forever in time, that Catherine Doll
who sat on an attic windowsill, wearing a flimsy nightgown as Chris in
the shadows took a time-lapse photo.  How had I managed to sit so
still, and hold that expression---how?

"Ilirough the nightgown I could see the tender form of young
breasts--and in that girlish profile all the wistful sadness Fd felt
back then.

How lovely she was--I'd been.  I stared at her hard and long.  That
frail, slender girl had long ago disappeared m the middle-aged woman I
was now.  I sighed for the loss other, that special girl with her head
full of dreams.  I tried to tear my gaze away; instead, I got up to
pick up the picture that Chris had carried with him to college, to
medical school.  When he was an intern, still he had this photograph
with him.  Was it this paper in my hand that had kept his love for meso
strong?  This attic face of a girl of fifteen, sitting in the
moonlight?

Longing, always longing for love that would last forever?  I no longer
looked like this girl I held in my ban looked like my mother the night
she burned down original Foxworth Hall.

Shrill telephone rings startled me back to the t and now.

"I've had a flat tire," said Chris on heai my small voice.

"I had driven to another lab and s-f a few hours there, so when I came
back I saw all th messages from you about Jory.  Jory can't be worse,
he?"

"No, darling, he's no worse."

"Cathy, what's wrong?"

"I'll tell you when you get here."

Chris reached home an hour later and rushed ii embrace me before he
hurried to Jory.

"How's son?"  he asked even as he sat on Jory's bed < reached to feel
his pulse.

"I hear from your mother 1 someone opened all your windows and the rain
soa you."

"Oh!"  cried Toni.

"Who could have done such awful thing?  I'm so sorry.  Doctor
Sheffield.  It's habit to check on Jory, I mean Mister Marquet, tw<
three times during the night, even if he doesn't call me."

Jory grinned at her in a happy way.

"I think you stop calling me Mister Marquet now, Toni."  His w was very
weak and hoarse.

"And this happened your day off."

"Oh," she said, "that must have been the momn drove into the city to
visit my girlfriend."

"It's just a cold, Jory," said Chris, checking his hi again.

"There's no hint of fluid in your lungs, and it your symptoms you don't
have the flu.  So swallow y medicine, drink the fluids Toni brings you
and s fretting about Metodie."  s : -t Later, sprawled in his favorite
chair in our si9 room, Chris listened to everything I had to say.  '^
you recognize the voice?"  I

"Chris, I don't know any of the villagers well enough.  I do my
damndest to stay away from them."

"How do you know it was a villager?"

That thought had never occurred to me.  I'd just presumed.
Nevertheless, as soon as Jory was well enough, we both determined to
leave this house.

"If it's what you want," said Chris, looking around with some regret.

"I like it here, I must admit.  I like all the space around us, the
gardens, the servants who wait on us, and I'll be sorry to leave.  But
let's not flee too far.  I don't want to leave my work in the
university."

"Chris, don't worry.  I won't take that away from you.  When we leave
here, we will go to ChariottesviHe and pray to God nobody there will
know that I'm your sister."

"Cathy, my dearest, sweetest wife, I don't think even if they knew,
they'd give a damn.  And besides, you look more like my daughter than n
y wflfe."  : ;

Wonderfully sweet as he was, he could say that with honesty in his
eyes. I knew then he was blind when be looked at me.  He saw what he
wanted to see, and that was the giri I used to be.  -: : :-^' ^.^ ,;;
^...sm He laughed at my doubting expression.

"I love the woman you've become.  So don't you go looking for the
tarnish when I deliver to you eighteen-karat-gotd honesty.

I'd say twenty-four karat, but you'd then say it was too soft and
therefore useless functionally.  So I give to you the best there is: my
eighteen-karat love that truly believes you are beautiful inside,
outside, and in between."

Cindy flew in for one of her whirlwind visits, breathlessly gushing out
every detail of her life in exquisite minute detail since last she'd
seen us.  It seemed incredible that so much could happen to one giri of
nineteen.

The instant we were inside the grand foyer, she raced up the stairs,
hurling herself into Jory's arms with such abandon I thought she might
tip over his chair.

"Really," he laughed, "you weigh more than a feather, Cindy."  He
kissed her, looked her over, then laughed.

"Wow!  What kind of outfit is that, anyway?"

"The kind that is going to fill the eyes of a certain brother named
Bart with horror.  I picked this out just to annoy him and dear Uncle
Joel."

Jory turned solemn.

"Cindy, if I were you, I'd stop deliberately baiting Bart.  He's not a
little boy anymore."

Unknown to Cindy, Toni had stepped into the room and stood patiently
waiting to take Jory's temperature.

"Oh," said Cindy, turning to see Torn.

"I thought after that terrible scene Bart made in New York that you'd
see him for what he really is and leave this place."  The look in
Tbni's eyes made Cindy glance again at Jory, then back to Tom again,
and she laughed.

"Well, now you've got good sense!  I can read your eyes, Toni, Jory.
You're in love!  Hooray!"  Sherushed to hug and kiss Toni before she
settled down near Jory's chair and stared up at him with adoration.

"I met Melodic in New York.  She cried a lot when I told her how pretty
the twins are ... but the day after your divorce went through, she
married another dancer.

Jory, he looks a lot tike you, only not nearly as handsome, and he
doesn't dance as weB, either."

Jory kept his small smile, as if Melodic had been put on the shelf and
there she'd stay.  He turned his head to grin at Toni.

"WeB, there goes my alimony payment.

At least she could have let me know."  } Again Qndy was staring at
Toni.

"What about!

Bart?"  .  ::, .. .. | "What about me?"  asked a baritone voice from
the open doorway.  I Only then did we all notice that Bart was in the
doorway, lounging insolently against the frame, taking in all we said
and did as if we were specimens in his special zoo of family oddities.
| "Well," he drawled, "as I live and breathe, our breathless little
imitation Marilyn Monroe has come to thrill us all with her stagey
presence."

"That's not how I'd describe my feelings oh seeing you again," Cindy
said with her eyes flashing.

"I'm chilled, not thrilled."

Bart looked her over, taking in her skin-tight gold leather pants, her
striped cotton knit sweater of white and gold.  The horizontal stripes
emphasized her breasts, which jiggled freely each time she moved, and
knee-high gold boots decorated her feet and legs.

"When are you leaving?"  asked Bart while he stared at Toni sitting on
Jory's bed and holding his hand.  Chris sat next to me on a love seat,
trying to catch up on some mail that had been delivered to the house
and not to his office.  " '"'."  :/: ^""T.,^ "Dear brother, say what
you will, I doB*t care Fve come to see my parents and the rest of my
family.  I'll be leaving soon enough.  Chains of steel (xwifato't jkeep
me here longer than necessary."  She laughed and sfeppcd closer and
looked up into his face.

"Youdoa't have to like me, or approve of me.  And even if you open your
mouth and say something insulting I'll just laugh again.

I've found a man to love me that makes you Took like something drug up
from the Dismal Swampt" "Cindy!"  said Chris sharply, putting down his
unopened mail.

"While you are here, you will dress appropriately, and you will treat
Bart with respect, as he will treat you.  I'm sick of these childish
arguments about nothing."

Cindy looked at him with hurt eyes, making me say apologetically,
"Darting, it is Bart's home.  And sometimes I would like to see you in
clothes that aren't too small."

Her blue eyes changed from those of a woman to those of a child.  She
wailed, "You're both taking his side--when you know he's nothing but a
crazy creep out to make us all unhappy!"

Toni sat uncomfortably until Jory leaned to whisper something in her
ear, and then she was smiling.

"It doesn't mean anything," I beard him say in an under tone.

"I believe Bart and Cindy enjoy tormenting one another."

Unfortunately Bart's attention was drawn from Cindy to take notice of
Jory with his arm about Toni's shoulders.  He scowled, then beckoned to
Toni.

"Come with me.  I want to show you the inside of the chapel with all
its new additions."

"A chapel?  Why do we need a chapel?"  asked Cindy, who had not been
informed of the newest room transformed.  , "Cindy, Bart wanted a
chapel added to this house*"| "Wen, Mom, if anybody ever needed a
chapel closet at hand, it's the creep of the hill and the Hall."  | My
second son didn't say a word.  | Toni refused to go with him.  She gave
him the excuse.

of needing to bathe the twins.  Anger lit up Bart's eyes-J before it
died, leaving him Standing there, strangely| desolate looking.  I got
up to take his hand.

"Darling,!

I'd love to see what new additions you've made in tN| chapel-" .3 "Some
other time," he said.  ^ I watched him covertly at the dinner table as
Cin^ taunted Bart in rather ridiculous ways that might havl| made the
rest of us laugh if he could only see the humo|| she displayed.
However, Bart had never been able f laugh at himself, more the pity. He
took everything ^B seriously.  Her grin was triumphant.

"You see, Bart^j she teased, "I can put away my childish foibles, ev^B
physical ones.  But you can't put away anything tig sours your guts and
chews away on your brain.  Youf like a sewer, ready to hold all that's
stinking and rot tiM and never give it up."  iA Still he said nothing,
"JM "Cindy," spoke up Chris, who'd remained qufiM during our evening
meal, "apologize to Bart."  AH "No."

"Then get up and leave the table, and eat in your room until you can
learn to speak pleasantly."

Her eyes flashed balefully again, this time at Chris.

"ALL RIGHT!  I'll go to my room--but tomorrow I'm leaving this house
and I'm never coming back!  NOT

EVER!"

Finally Bart had something to say.

"The best news I've beard in years."

Cindy was in tears before she reached the dining room archway.  I
didn't jump up to follow her this time.

I sat on, pretending nothing was amiss.  Always in the past I'd
shielded Cindy, chastised Bart, but I was seeing him with new eyes. The
son I'd never known had facets that weren't all dark and dangerous.

"Why don't you go to Cindy, as you always have in the past.  Mother?"
asked Bart, as if challenging me.

"I haven't finished my dinner, Bart.  And Cindy has to learn to respect
the opinions of others."  :

He sat staring at me as if completely taken off guard.

Eariy the next morning, Cindystonned into our room without knocking,
catching me wrapped in a towel, fresh from my bath, and Chris was
still-shaving.

"Mom, Dad, I'm leaving," she said stiffly"I  -VSm^ enjoy myself here.
I'm wondering why I even bothered to come back.  It's clear you've
decided to take Bart's side on every issue, and if that's the case,
then I'm finished.  I'll be twenty next April, and that's old enough
not to need a family."

Her eyes smeared with the tears that came unbidden.

Her voice turned small and broken.

"I want to say thanks to both of you for being wonderful parents when I
was little and needed someone like both of you.  I'm going to miss you
and Daddy, and Jory and Darren and Deirdre, but every time I come here,
I leave feeling sick.  If ever you decide to live somewhere far from
Bart, maybe you'll see me again ... maybe."

"Oh, Cindy!"  I cried, rushing to embrace her.

"Don't leave!"

"No, Momma," she said staunchly.

"I'm going back to New York.  My friends thete will throw me a party,
the best kind.  They do everything better in New York."

But her tears were coming fester, harder.  Chris wiped his face free of
shaving lather and came to hug her close.

"I can understand how you feel, Cindy.  Bart can be irritating, but you
did go too far last night.  In a way you were very funny, but sadly, he
can't see that.

You have to judge whom you can tease, and whom you cannot.  You've
outgrown Bart, Cindy.  And we won't object if you want to leave so
soon.  But, before you go, we want you to know your mother and I are
taking Jory and his children, and Tbni, too, and moving to
Charlottesville.  We'll find a large house there and settle] down in
the midst of people, so when you come again,!

you wont be lonely, and Bart will still be here, high on this hill and
far from you."

Sobbing, she clutched Chris.

"I'm sorry.  Daddy.  I was nasty to him, but he always says such mean
things] to me, and I have to hit back or feel like a door mat.  I don't
like for him to wipe his feet on me--and he is like & sewer, he is."  ^
"Someday I hope you'll see him differently," saidj Chris softly,
tilting up her pretty tear-stained face and kissing her lightly.

"So kiss your mother, say goodbye to Jory, Toni, Darren and Deirdre ...
but don't sayj.

you won't come back to see us again.  That would mate us both very
unhappy.  You give us a great deal of joy, and nothing should spoil
that."

" I helped Cindy pack the clothes she'd just unpacked,.

And even as we did this together, I saw that she was| undecided and
wanted to stay on if only I'd plead| Unfortunately we'd left her door
open, and I lookedj around to see Joel standing in the doorway watching
us.j Joel turned pale eyes on Cindy.

"Why are you| red-eyed, little girl?"  | "I'm not a little giri!"  she
screamed.  She tumedJ wrathful eyes on him.

"You're in league with him^ aren't you?  You help make him what he is.
You stan^|

there and gloat because I'm packing my bags, don't you?  Glad Pm
leaving--but before I go, I'm telling you off, too, old roan.  And I
don't care if my parents scold me for not showing respect for old age."
She stepped closer, her posture dominating his cringing form.

"I

hate you, old man!  Hate you for preventing my brother from being
normal, and he could have been without you!  I HATE YOU!"

Hearing this, Oiris, who'd been seated near the window, became
furious.

"Cindy, why?  You could have gone and said nothing."  Joel had
disappeared by this time, leaving Cmdy staring at Chris, bleak-eyed.

"Cindy," Chris said softly, reaching out to caress her hair.

"Joel is an old man dying of cancer.  He won't be around much
longer."

"What do you mean?"  she asked.

"He looks healthier than when he came."  it-.

"Perhaps he's had a remission.  He refuses to see a doctor and won't
let me check him over.  Siesayss'WS!resigned to dying soon.  So, I take
mm at his wont" "I expect now you want me to apologize to hiro-well, I
won't!  I meant every wori!  That timein New Vat, when Bart was so
happy iwjth ^B^jitt^lttiliy seemed so much in love, we were at a party,
when suddenly an old man appeared that looked like Joel-and instantly
Bart changed.  He turned mean, hateful, like a spell had been cast, he
began to criticize my clothes, Toni's pretty dress that he said was
shameless and only a few minutes before, he'd complimented the way She
looked in that very same dress.  So don't tell me that Joel doesn't
have a great deal to do with Bart's nutty behavior."

Instantly I was with Cindy.

"You see, Chris.  Cindy believes just as I do.  If Joel weren't here
using his influence, Bart would straighten out.  Drive Joel out, Chris,
before it's too late."

"Yes, Daddy, make that old man leave.  Pay him off, get rid of him."

"And what do Isay to Bart?"  asked Chris, looking from one to the
other of us.

"Don't you realize he has to be the one who sees Joel for what he is?
We can't tell him Joel's not a healthy influence.  Bart has to discover
that for himself."

Soon after this we drove to Richmond to see that Cindy caught a plane
back to New York.  In another week she was moving to Hollywood to try
and begin a film career.

"I won't be coming to Fbxworth Hall again, Momma," she repeated.

"I love you, and I love Dad, even if he is angry with me for speaking
my mind.  Tell Jory again that I love him and his children.  But hate
and ugly thoughts come into my mind the minute I step inside that
house.  Leave there.  Momma.  Daddy.  Leave before it's too late."

Numbly I nodded.

"Momma, remember the night when Bart beat up Victor Wade?  He carried
me home naked--and he took me up to Joel's room.  He held me so Joel
could look me over, and that old man spat on me, cursed me.

I couldn't tell you then.  The two of them scare me when they get
together.  Alone, Bart might straighten out.

With Joel there to influence him, he could be dangerous."

She was soon on the plane and we were on the ground watching her fly
away again.

She flew toward morning.  We drove home toward night.  -- .  :- .. '. ;
.  - .  ."  .  :

This couldn't go on any longer.  To save Jory, Chris, the twins and
myself, we had to leave, even if it meant;

we'd never see Bart again.  1

Garden in the Sky

Poor Cindy, I was thinking, how would she fare in Hollywood?  I sighed,
then began to look around for the twins.  They sat solemnly in their
sandbox with the rainbowed canopy overhead, although in early September
the weather was steadily cooling off.  They sat without shoveling sand
into pretty buckets, not building sand castles.  Not doing anything.

"Just listening to the wind blow," said Deirdre.

"Don't like the wind," added Danen.

Before I could speak, Chris was striding toward us, and soon I was
telling him, "Cindy just called from Hollywood.  She says she has lots
of friends there already.  I don't know if she does or not.  But she
does have plenty of money.  Already I've called one.  of my friends who
will check on bet" -?; -,;' a ?"  rfw "It's better so," he said with
a-troubled sigh.  "It seems nothing can work out for Cindy here.  She
can't get along with Bart, and now she's started on Joel as well.  In
fact, she seems to think Joel is worse than Bart."

"He is, Chris!  Don't you know that by now?"

He grew impatient with me, just when I thought I had him convinced.

"You're prejudiced because he is Malcolm's son, and that's all it is.
For a while when Cindy was berating him, too, the two of you almost
convinced me, but Joel is not doing one thing to influence Bart.  Bart,
from all 1 hear, is a full-blooded young stud, having the time of his
life, only you don't know that.  And Joel can't have much longer to
live.

That cancer is devouring him day by day, even if he does maintain his
weight.  He can't possibly hold on more than a month or two more."

I wasn't distressed.  I didn't even feel guilty or ashamed at that
moment, I told myself with sincerity, that Joel was getting out of life
exactly what he deserved.

"How do you know he's ill with cancer?"  I asked.

"He told me that's why he came back to die on home ground, so to speak.
He wants to be buried in the family cemetery."

"Chris, like Cindy said, he does look better now than when he came."

"Because he's well fed and well housed.  He lived in poverty at that
monastery.  You see him in one way, I see him in another.  He confides
in me, Catherine, and tells me how hard he's tried to win you to his
side.

Tears come into his eyes.

"And she's so much Like her dear mother, my dear sister' he'll-say over
and over again."

Not for one minute, after witnessing Joel in that chapel, would I ever
believe in that evil old man.  Even when I told Chris about the chapel
incident in great detail, he didn't think it so terrible until I
mentioned what had been taught to the twins.

"You heard that?  Actually heard those babies say they were Devil's
issue?"  Disbelief was clear in his blue eyes.

"Does it ring a familiar bell?  Do you see Cory and Carrie on their
knees by their beds, praying for God to forgive them for being born
Devil's spawn?  Even when they didn't know what that meant?  Does
anyone know more than you and I what harm can be done from ideas like
that planted in such young minds?  Chris, we have;

to leave soon!  Not after Joel dies, but soon as possi-1 Me!"  - .  ^ -
- - ^'3 He said exactly what I'd feared he would  We had to think of
Jory, who needed special quarters, special equipment.

"He'B have to have an elevator.  Doors wfl| have to be enlarged.  The
halls must be wide.  And ther| is another consideration--Jbry may marry
Toni.  H| asked me what I thought about it, wanting to know it

believed he had a chance of making Toni happy.  I said yes, of course
he could.  I can see the love between them growing day by day.  I like
the way she treats him, as if she doesn't see the wheelchair, or what
he can't do--only what he can.

"And Cathy, it wasn't love between Toni and Bart.  It was infatuation,
glands calling to glands--or call it whatever you will, but it wasn't
love.  Not our kind of everlasting love."

"No..."  I breathed, "not the kind that lasts forever..."

Two days later Chris called from Chariottesville, telling me he'd found
a house.

"Exactly how many rooms?"

"Eleven.  It's going to seem small after Foxworth Hall.  But the rooms
are large, airy, cheerful.  It has four baths and a powder room, five
bedrooms, a guest room and another bath over the garage, and also on
the second floor is a huge room we can convert into a studio for Jory,
and one of the extra bedrooms can be my home office.  You're going to
love this house."

I doubted that, he'd found it too quickly, even though that's what I'd
asked him to do.  He sounded so happy, and that gave me happy
expectations.

He laughed, then explained more.

"It's beautiful, Cathy, really just the kind of house I've always heard
you say you wanted.  Not too big, not too small, with plenty of
privacy.  Three acres with flowerbeds everywhere."

It was settled.

As soon as we could pack our bags and many personal possessions
accumulated over the years we'd lived in Foxworth Hall, we would move
out.

I felt sad in some ways as 1 sauntered through the grand rooms that I'd
gradually made cozy with my own decorating ideas.  Bart had complained
more than once that 1 was changing what should never change.  But even
he, once he'd seen the improvements that made this a borne rather than
a museum, had finally agreed to let me have my way.

Chris came to me Friday evening, looking at me with soft eyes.

"So, my beautiful, hold on for just a few more days and let me drive
back to Charlottesville and check out that house more thoroughly before
we sign the contract bid.  I've found a nice apartment we can rent
until we can close on the house.  Also, I have a few things to clear up
at the lab, so I can take off several days and help get us settled.  As
I was telling you on the phone, I think two weeks of work, after the
closing, and our new home will be ready for all of us ramps, elevator
and all."

He graciously didn't mention all the years he'd lived with Bart,
knowing it was like living with an explosive hidden somewhere bound to
go off sooner or later.

Never a word to reproach me for giving him a defiant, disrespectful son
who refused to care how much love was given him.

Oh, how much agony he'd suffered because of Bart, :i and still he
didn't say a word to condemn me for going with deliberate intentions
after my mother's second | husband.  I put my hands to my head, feeling
that deepj ache beginning again.  | My Christopher drove away in the
eariy morning,!

leaving me to fret through yet another anxiety-rid de day.  Over the
years I'd grown more and more depci dent on him, when once I'd prided
myself for belt independent, able to go my own way and not n anyone
nearly as badly as they needed me.  f selfishly I'd looked at life when
I was younger.

needs had come first.  Now it was the needs of oti that came first.

Restlessly I roamed about, checking on all those!

loved, staring at Bart when he came home, dying ^ throw all kinds of
accusations his way, yetsomet feeling so much pity for him.  He sat
behind his de looking absolutely the perfect young executive.

guilt.  No shame as he bargained, manipulated, negated, making more
and more money just by talking over the telephone, or communicating
with his computer.

He looked up at me and smiled.  A genuine anile of welcome.

"When Joel told me Cindy had decided to leave, it cheered my whole day,
and I still feel that way."  Yet what was that oddness behind the
darkness of his eyes?

Why did betook at me as if soon he'd cry?

"Bart, if ever you want to confide in me--" '.., "I have nothing to
confide.  Mother."

His voice was soft, loo soft, as if he spoke to someone that would soon
be gone--forever gone.

"You may not know this, Bart, but the man you so hate, my brother and
your uncle, has done the best he could to be a good father
replacement."

Shaking his head, he denied this.  "'" would have been abandoning his
rel.

his sister, and he hasn't done that.:

him if he'd only stayed my uncle.

known better than to try to decjeiv<?

know by now all children grow up jft at,^remember well scenes you think
th^'ll soon forget, bB| those children don't forget.  They take those
memories and bury them deep in their brains, to bring them out later
when they can understand.  And all that T cad remember tells me that
the two of you are bound in ways that seem unbreakable, except by
death."

My heart quickened.  On the roofofPoxworthHaB, under the sun and stars,
Chris and I had sworn certain vows to see us through eternity; How
young and foolish to create our own traps ... Tears could so easily
flood my eyes lately.

"Bart--how could / owe without him?"

"Oil, Mother, you could!  You know you could.  Let tarn SO) Mother.
Give to me the kind of decent, God-fearing mother I've always needed to
keep my sanity."

"And if I can't say goodbye to Chris--what then, Bart?"

His dark head bowed.

"God help you.  Mother.  I won't be able to.  God help me, too.  Even
so, I do have to think of my own eternal soul."

I went away.

All through the night 1 dreamed of fire, of such terrible things I woke
up, not cleariy remembering anything but the fire, yet there had been
something else, some dreadful remembered thing I kept shoving to the
back of my mind.  What?  What?  Unable to overcome the inexplicable
fatigue I felt, I drifted back to sleep and fell again immediately into
a continuing nightmare where I saw Jory's twins as Cory and Carrie,
carried off to be devoured.  For the second time I forced myself awake.
Forced myself to get up, although my head ached badly.

I felt woozy-headed, half drunk as I set about my daily chores.  At my
heels the twins tagged behind, asking a thousand and one questions, in
particular Deirdre.  She reminded me so much of Carrie with her why?
where?  and whose is it?  And how did it come to be his or hers or its?
Jibberty-jabber, chitter-chat, on:;;

and on as Darren poked into closets, pulled open drawers, investigated
envelopes, leafed through maga1 zincs and in the process ruined them
for reading^ making me say, "Cory, put those down!  They belong to your
grandfather and he likes to read the writing even i| you don't like
anything but the pictures.  Carrie, wouNJ you please be quiet for just
five minutes?  Just five?^ That, of course, drew another question that
wanted t | know who was Cory and who was Carrie, and why wa| I always
calling them those funny names?  | Finally Toni came to relieve me of
die too inquisitive children.

"Sorry, Cathy, but Jbry wanted me to moSijK for him in the garden today
before all the rosM die " Ai

U1C - - 'AH

-Before all the roses die?  I stared at her, then shoo^ my head,
thinking I was reading too much into o;

words.  The roses would live until a heavy freeze came, and winter was
months away.

Around two in the afternoon, the telephone in my room rang.  I'd just
laid down to rest.  It was Chris.

"Dariing, I can't stop worrying about what might happen.  I think your
fears are getting to me.  Have patience.  111 be seeing you in an hour.
Are you all light?"  ----^ "Why wouldn't I be all right?"

"Just checking.  I've had a bad feeling.  I love you."

"Have you, too'

The twins were restless, not wanting to play in the sandbox, not
wanting to do one thing I suggested.

"Dee-dee don't like jump rope," said Deirdre, who couldn't pronounce
her name correctly and didn't really want to.  The more we tried to
teach her the correct way, the more she lisped.  She had CatHe*s
stubbornness.  Just as Darren was more than wunng to follow where she
led, and he'd lisp when she did.  And what difference did it make if a
littte boy his age playiBct house?:.  , --:-- '"' >< "'-' ^'":'^'^'"' I
put the twins down for their naps.  They noisily objected and didn't
stop until Toni came in and read to them a story she'd promised she'd
read--when I'd Just read the same blasted story three times!  Soon they
were asleep in their pretty room with the draperies drawn.

How sweet they looked, turned on their sides to face one another, just
as Cory and Carrie had done.

In my own room, after checking on Jbry, who was busy reading a book on
how to strengthen certain lower sexual muscles, I turned to my
neglected manuscript and brought it up to date.  When I grew tired,
distracted by the absolute silence in the house, I went to waken the
twins

They were not in their small beds!

Jory and Toni were on the terrace, both lying on their sides on the
quilted exercise mat.  They were embracing, kissing long and
passionately.

"Sorry to interrupt I said, feeling ashamed I had to intrude on their
privacy and ruin what had to be a wonderful experience for Jory and for
her.

"Where arc the twins?"

"We thought they were with you," said Jory, winking at me before he
turned back to Toni.

"Run find them, Mom ... I'm busy with today's tess on

I used the quickest way to reach the chapel.  Through all the gardens I
hurried, glancing uneasily at the woods that hid the cemetery.  Tree
shadows on the ground were beginning to stretch out and cross one
another as I neared the chapel door.  A strange scent was wafted on the
warm summer breezes.  Incense.  Iran on, reaching the chapel quite out
of breath, with my heart pounding.

An organ had been installed since I was here last.  I stole as quietly
as possible into the chapel.

Joel was seated at the organ playing beautifully, showing that once he
had been truly a professional musician with remarkable ability.  Bart
stood up to sing.

I relaxed when I saw the twins in the front pew, looking content as
they stared up at their uncle, who sang so well it almost stole my fear
and gave me peace.

The hymn ended.  Automatically the twins went down on their knees and
placed their small palms beneath their chins.  They seemed cherubs or
iambs for the slaughter;

Why was I thinking that?  This was a holy place.

"And to, though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we
wiB fear no evil..."  spoke Bart, now on his knees.

"Repeat after me, Darren, Deirdre

"And lo, though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we
will fear no evil," obeyed Deirdre, I stepped forward.

"Bast, what the devil are you doing?  This is not Sunday, nor has
anyone died."

His bowed head raised.  His dark eyes met mine and held such sorrow.

"Leave, Mother, please."

Iran to the children, who jumped up.  I gathered them into my arms.

"We don't like it here," whispered Deirdre.

"Hate here."

Joel had risen to his feet.  He stood tall and lean in the shadows,
with colors from the stained glass falling on his long, gaunt face.  He
said not a won), just looked me up and down scathingly.

"Go back to your rooms.  Mother, please, please."

"You have no right to teach these children fear of God.  When you teach
religion, Bart, you speak of God's love, not his wrath."

"They have no fear of God, Mother.  You speak of your own fear."

I began to back away, pulling the twins with me, "Someday you are going
to understand about love, Bart.  You are going to find out it doesn't
come because you want it, or need it.  It's yours only when you earn
it.

It comes to you when you least expect it, walks in the door and doses
it quietly and when it's right, it stays.

You don't plot to find it.  Or seduce to try and make it happen.  You
have to deserve it, or yoalH^ never have anyone who will stay long
enough."  ' His dark eyes looked bleak.  He stood, towering up there;
then he advanced, taking the three steps down.

"We are all leaving, Bart.  that should delight you.

None of us will come back to bother you again.  Jbry and Toni will go
with us.  You will have come into your own.  Every room of this mammoth
lonely Foxworth Hall will be all yours.  If you wish, Chris will turn
over the trusteeship to Joel until you are thirty-nw."

For a moment, a brief illuminating moment, fear Bt up Bart's face, just
as jubilance lit up Joel's watery eyes.

"Have Chris turn the trusteesiup over to my attor they," Bart said
quickly.

"Yes, if that's what you want" I smiled at Joel, whose face then
turned.  He shot Bart a hard took of disappointment, confirming my
suspicions he was angry because Bart would take what might have been
his ... "By morning we will be gone, all of us," I whispered
hoarsely.

"Yes, Mother.  I wish you godspeed and good luck."

I star id at my second son, who stood three feet from me.  Wl ere had I
heard that said last?  Oh, oh ... so very loi g ago.  The tall
conductor on the night train that brought us here as children.  He'd
stood on the steps of toe sleeper train and called that back to us, and
the train had sounded a mournful goodbye whistle.

It came to me as I met Bart's brooding gaze that I should speak my
parting words now, in this chapel of his building, and forget about
saying anything tomorrow when I was Bkely to cry.

He spoke first.

"Mothers always seem to run and leave the sons to suiter.  Why are you
deserting me?"

The tone of his throaty voice, full of pain, filled me with suffering.
Still I said what I had to say.

"Because I you deserted me years ago," I answered brokenly.

"I |

tove you, Bart.  I've always loved you, though you don't | want to
believe that.  Chris loves you.  But you don't want his tove.  You tell
yourself each day you live that your own natural father would have been
a better father but you don't know that he would have been.j He wasn't
faithful to his wife, my mother and I wasn't his first dalliance.  I
don't want to speak disrespectfu of a man whom I loved very much at die
time, but I wasn't the same kind of man Chris is.  He wouldn't 1 given
you so much of himself."

The sun through the windows turned Bart's fire-red.  hk head moved from
side to side.  Tonne again.  At his sides his hands clenched into tight
1 "Don't say one word more" he shouted.

"He's rather I want, have always wanted' Chris has given i nothing but
shame and embarrassment.  Get out!  I'm glad you're leaving.  Take your
filth with you and forget least!"

Hours passed, and still Chris didn't show.  I called the university
lab.  His secretary said he'd left three hours ago.

"He should have been there, Mrs.  Sheffield."

Immediately thoughts of my own father came to torment me.  An accident
on the highway.  Were we duplicating our mother's act in reverse,
running away from, not to, Poxworth Hall?  Tick-tock went the docks.
Thumpity-thump-thump went my heartbeats.

Nursery rhymes I had to read so the twins would sleep and stop asking
questions.  Little Tommy Tucker, sing for your supper... When you wish
upon a star... dancing in the dark ... all our lives, dancing in the
dark... "Mother, please stop pacing the floor," ordered Jory.

"You rub my nerves raw.  Why tins grand rush to leave?  TeB me why,
please say something."I ;

Joel and Bart strolled in to join us.  ; ^ "You weren't at the dinner
table.  Mother.  I'll tell the chef to prepare a tray."  He glanced at
Toni.

"YOU can stay."

"No, thank you, Bart.  Jory has asked me to marry him."  Her chin
lifted defiantly.

"He toves me in away you never can."

Bart turned betrayed, hurt eyes on his brother.

"You can't marry.  What kind of husband can you make now?"

"The very land I want?"  cried Toni, striding to stand beside Jory's
chair and putting her hand lightly on ibs shoulder.  ' "If you want
money, he doesn't have one percent of what I have."

"I wouldn't care if he had nothing," she answered proudly, meeting
squarely ibs dark, forbidding gaze.

"I

love him as I've never loved anyone before.^ | "You pity him," stated
Bartmatteroffactly.

Jory winced but said nothing.  He seemed to know Tom needed to have it
out with Bart.

"Once I did pity him," she confessed honestly.

"I

thought it a temble shame such a wonderful man with so much talent had
to be handicapped.  Now I don't see him as handicapped.  You see, Bart,
all of us are handicapped in one way or another.  Jory's is in the
open, very visible.  Yours is hidden--and sick.  You are so sick, and
it's pity I feel now--FOR YOU."

Seething emotions contorted Bart's face.  I glanced at Joel for some
reason and saw him staring at Bart, as if commanding him to stay
silent.

Twisting about, Bart barked at me, "Why are you all gathered in this
room?  Why don't you go to bed?  It's fate."

"We are waiting for Chris to come home."

"There was an accident on the highway," spoke up Joel.

"I heard the.  news on the radio.  A man killed."  He seemed delighted
to give me this news.

My heart seemed to drop a mile--another Poxworth downed by an
accident?

Not Chris, not my Christopher Doll.  No, not yet, not yet.

From far away I faintly heard the kitchen door open and close.  The
chef leaving for his apartment over the garage 1 thought--or maybe
Chris.  Hopefully I turned toward the garage.  No bright blue eyes, no
ready smile and arms outstretched to hold me.  No one came through the
door.

Minutes passed as we all stared at each other uncomfortably.

My heart began to throb painfully; it was time he was home.  Time
enough..

Joel was staring at me, his Ups cocked in a peculiarly hateful way, as
if he knew more than he'd said.  I turned;

to Jory, knelt beside his chair and allowed him to hold| me dose.

"I'm scared, Jory," I sobbed.

"He should bej home by now.  It couldn't take him three hours even u(|
the winter with icy roads."

No one said anything.  Not Jory, who held me tight.

Not Toni.  Not Bart or even Joel.  The very show of all of us being
together, waiting, waiting brought back only too vividly the scene of
my father's thirty-sixth birthday party and the two state policemen
who'd come to say he'd been killed.

I felt a scream in my throat ready to sound when I saw a white car
heading up our private road, a red light spinning on the top.

Time turned backward.

NO!  NO!  NO!  Over and over again, my brain screamed even as they
spilled out the facts about the accident, the doctor who'd jumped out
of his car to help the injured and dying victims laid on the roadside,
and as he ran to cross the highway, he'd been struck by a hit-and-run
driver.

They carefully, respectfully put his things on a table, just as they'd
dumped my father's possessions on another table in Gladstone.  This
time I was staring at all the items that Chris usually carried in his
pockets.

All this was unreal, just another nightmare to wake up from not my
photograph in his wallet, not my Chris's wristwatch and the sapphire
ring I'd given him for Christmas.  Not my Christopher Doll, no, no,
no.

Objects grew hazy, dim.  Twilight gloom pervaded my entire being,
leaving me nowhere, nowhere.  The policemen shrank in size.  Jory and
Bart seemed so far away.  Toni loomed up huge as she came to lift me to
my feet.

"Cathy, I'm so sorry .. . so terribly sorry ..."

I think she said more.  But I tore from her grip and ran, ran as if all
the nightmares I'd ever dreamed in my life were catching up with me.
Seek the tarnish and you shall find.

On and on running, trying to escape the truth, running until I reached
the chapel where I threw myself down in front of the pulpit and began
to pray as I'd never prayed before.

"Please, God, you can't do this to me, or to Chris!

There's not a better man alive than Chris ... you must ^acnf that..."
And then I was sobbing.  For my fat he had been a wonderful man, and
that hadn't mattered Fate didn't choose the unloved, the derelicts, th
unneeded or unwanted.  Fate was a bodiless form with cruel hand that
reached out randomly, carelessly, an seized up with ruthlessness.

They buried the body of my Christopher Doll, not i the Poxworth family
plot, but in the cemetery where Paul, my mother, Bart's father, and
Julian all lay unde the earth.  Not so far away was the small grave o
Carrie.

Already I'd given the order to have the body of m father moved from
that cold, hard, lonely ground ii Gladstone, Pennsylvania so he, too,
could lie with th rest of us.  I thought he would like that, if he
knew.

I was the last of the four Dresden dolls.  Onl' me ... and I didn't
want to be here.

The sun was hot and bright.  A day for fishing, to swimming, for
playing tennis and having fun, and the:

put my Christopher in the ground.

I tried not to see him down there with his blue eye closed forever.  I
stared at Bart, who spoke the eulog with tears in his eyes.  I heard
his voice as if from ;

far-far distance, saying all the words he should have said when Chris
was alive and he could have appreciated hearing those kind, loving
words.

"It is said in the Bible," began Bart in that beautiful persuasive
voice he could use when he wanted, "that i is never too late to ask for
forgiveness.  I hope and pra;

this is true, for I will ask of this man who lies before mi that his
soul will look down from Heaven and forgivi me for not being the
loving, understanding son I could and should have been.  This father,
that I never accepted as my father, saved my life many times, and I
staru here, shafted to my heart with all the guilt and shame 0 a wasted
childhood and youth that could have made hi life happier."

His dark head bowed so the sun made his hair and his falling tears
gleam.

"I love you, Christopher Sheffield Foxworth.  I hope you hear me.  I
hope and pray you forgive me for being blind to what you were."  Tears
flowed down his cheeks.  His voice turned hoarse.

People started to cry.

Only I had dry eyes, a dry heart.

"Doctor Christopher Sheffield denied his surname of Poxworth," he went
on when he found his voice again.

"I know now he had to.  He was a physician right up to his last moment,
dedicated to doing what he could to relieve human suffering, while I,
as his son, would deny him the right to be my substitute father.  In
humiliation, in remorse, and in shame, I bow my head and say this
prayer .. ."

On and on be went while I closed my ears and turned away my eyes, gone
numb from grief,

"Wasn't it a wonderful tribute.  Mom?"  as^ lory one dark day.

"I cried, couldn't help It.  Bart humbled himself.  Mom, and in front
of that huge cro^, t^e never seen him humble before.  You have
iogiv^TBltn credit tor doing that."  , His dark blue eyes pleaded with
me.  , ; ,."

"Mom, you've got fo cry,^oo.  It'saotngbtJEwy^W to just sit and stare
into space.  It's been two wseks now.

You're not alone.  You have us.  Joel has flown back to that monastery
to die there with that cancer he says he has.  We'll never see him
again.  He wrote his last words, saying he didn't want to be buried on
Faxworth ground.

You have me, you have Tonii Bart, Cindy and your grandchildren.  We
love you and need you.  The twins are wondering why you don't play with
them.  Don't shut us out.  You've always bounced back after every
tragedy.  Come back this time.  Come back to all of us--but come back
mostly for Bart's sake, for if you allowyoursetf to grieve to death,
you will destroy him."

For Bart's sake I stayed on in Foxworth Hall, trying to fit myself
into a world that didn't really need me anymore.

Nine lonely months passed.  In every blue sky I saw Chris's blue eyes.
In everything golden I saw the color of his hair.  I paused on the
streets to stare at young boys who looked as Chris had at their ages; I
stared at young men who reminded me of him when he was their age; I
gazed longingly at the backs of tall, strong looking men with blond
hair going gray, wistfully hoping they'd turn and I'd see Chris smile
at me again.

They did turn sometimes, as if they felt the yearning hot blaze of my
eyes, and I'd turn away my eyes, for they weren't him, not ever him.

I roamed the woods, the hills, feeling him beside me, just out of
reach, but still beside me.

As I walked on and on alone, but for Chris's spirit, it, came to me
that there was a pattern in our lives, and | nothing that had happened
was coincidental.  | In all ways possible Bart did what he could to
bring| me back to myself, and I smiled, forced myself toj laugh, and in
so doing I gave him peace and tl confidence he'd always needed to give
him a feeling i value.

Yet, yet, who and what was I now that Bart hi found himself?  That
feeling of knowing the patter grew and grew as I sat often alone in the
grand elegai of Foxworth Hall.

Out of all the darkness, the anguish, the apparel hapless tragedies,
and pathetic events of our lives, finally understood.  Why hadn't all
of Bait's psyc'" trists realized when he was young that he was test
seeking, trying to find the role that suited him tx Through all that
childhood agony, throughout youth, he'd chiseled at his flaws
ruthlessly, backing the ugliness he believed marred his soul, steadfa
holding onto his credence that good eventually ^ over evil.  And in his
eyes, Chris and 1 had been ei Finally, at long last, Bart found his
niche in scheme of what had to be.  All I had to do was turn on the TV
on any Sunday morning and sometimes during midweek and I could see and
hear my second son singing, plea ching acknowledged as the most
mesmerizing evangelist in the world.  Rapier-sharp, his words stabbed
into the conscience of everyone, causing money to pour into his coffers
by the millions.  He used the money to spread his ministry.

Then came the surprise one Sunday morning of seeing Cindy rise and join
Bart on the podium.  Standing beside him, she linked her arm through
his.  Bart smiled proudly before be announced, "My sister and I
dedicate this song to our mother.  Mother, if you are watching, you'll
know exactly how much this song means not only to both of us, but to
you, as well."

Together, as brother and sister, they sang my favorite hymn ... and a
long time ago I'd given up on religion, thinking it wasn't for me when
so many were bigoted, narrow-minded and cruel.

Yet, tears streaked my face ... and I was crying.

After all the months since Chris had been struck down on that highway,
I was crying dry that bottomless well of tears.

Bart had hacked off the last rotten bit of Malcolm's genes and had left
only the good.  To create him, the paper flowers had bloomed in the
dusty attic.

To create him, fires had burned houses, our mother had died, our
father, too ... just to create the leader who would turn mankind away
from the road to destruction.

I switched off the TV when Bart's program was over.

His was the only one I watched.  Not so far away, they were building a
huge memorial honoring my Christopher.

THE CHRISTOPHER SHEFRELD MEMORIAL

CANCER RESEARCH CENTER, h was to be called.

In Greenglenna, South Carolina, Bart was also the founder of a grant
for struggling young lawyers, and this was called THE BARTHOLOMEW

WINSLOW

LEGAL GRANT.

I knew Bart was trying to return good for the evil he'd done by denying
the man who'd tried his best to be his father.  A hundred times I
reassured him that Chris would be pleased, very pleased.

Toni had married Jory.  The twins adored her.  Cindy had a film
contract and was a fast-rising star.  It seemed strange, after living a
lifetime of giving, first to my mother's twins, then to my husbands,
and my children and grandchildren, not to be needed, not to have a
place of my own.  Now I was the odd one out.

"Mom!"  Jory told me one day, "Torn is pregnant!

You don't know what that does for me.  If we have a boy, he will be
called Christopher.  If we have a girl, she will be Catherine.  Now
don't you say we can't do that, for we will anyway."

I prayed they'd have a boy like my Christopher, or my Jory, and one day
in the future, I prayed Bart would find the right woman to make him
happy.  And only then did I realize that Toni had been right, he was
looking for a woman like me, without my weaknesses, wanting her to have
only my strengths, and perhaps with me as a living model---he'd never
find her.

"And Mom," Jory had gone on during that same conversation, "I won my
first prize in the watercotor division ... so I'm on my way to another
successful career."  .  . - - .-..  "Just as your father predicted," I
answered.

All of this was in my mind, making me vaguely happy for Jory and Torn,
happy for Bart and Cindy, as I turned toward the dual winding staircase
that would take me up, up.

I had heard the wind from the mountains calling me last night, telling
me it was my time to go, and I woke i up, knowing what to do.

Once I was in that cold dim room, without furniture

or carpet or rugs, only a dollhouse that wasn't as wonderful as the
original, I opened the tall and narrow closet door and began my ascent
up the steep and narrow stairs.

On ray way to the attic.

On my way to where I'd find my Christopher, again... It was Trevor who
found my mother up there, sitting in the windowsill of what could have
been the window of the schoolroom that she'd mentioned so often in the
stories of her imprisoned life in Foxworth Hall.  Her beautiful long
hair was loose and flowing over her shoulders.  Her eyes were open and
staring gjassily up at the sky.

He called to tell me the details, heavy sorrow in his voice, as I
beckoned Toni closer so she could listen, too.  "loo bad that Bart was
away on a tour around the world, for be would have flown home in a
minute if he'd even guessed she needed him.  V Trevor went on.

"She hadn't been feeling well for days, I could tell.  She was so
reflective, as if she were trying to make sense out of her life.  There
was that terrible sadness in her eyes, that pathetic yearning that made
my heart ache to see her.  I went searching to find her, and eventually
I used the second set of narrow, steep stairs to the attic.  I looked
around.  It surprised me when I saw that she must have, for some time,
been decorating the attic with paper flowers ..."

He paused as I choked up with tears, with regrets that I hadn't done
more to make her feel needed and necessary.  Trevor went on, a strange
note in his heavy voice.

"I must tell you something strange.  Your mother, sitting there in the
windowsill, looked so young, so slender and frail--and her face even in
death held an expression of great joy and happiness."

Trevor gave me other details.  As if she knew she was soon to die, my
mother had glued paper flowers on the attic walls, including, too, a
strange-looking orange snail and a purple worm.  She had written a note
that was found in her hand, clutched tight in her death grip.

There's a garden in the sky, waiting there for me.

It's a garden that Chris and I imagined years ago, while we lay on a
hard black slate roof and stared up at the sun and the stars.

He's up there, whispering in the winds to tell me that's where the
purple grass grows.  They're all up there waiting for me.

So, forgive me for being tired, too tired to stay.  I have lived long
enough, and can say my life was full of happiness as well as sadness.
Though some might not see it that way.

I hveall of you, each equally.  I love Barren and Deirdre and wish them
good luck throughout their lives, as I wish the same for your
child-to'be, lory.

The Dollanganger Saga is over.

You'll find my last manuscript in my private vault.

Do with it what you will.

It was meant to be this way.  I have no place to go but there.  No one
needs me more than Chris does.

But please don't ever say I failed in reaching my most important goal.
I may not have been the prima ballerina I set out to be.  Nor was I the
perfect wife or mother--but I did manage to convince one person, at
last, that he did have the right father.

And it wasn't too late, Bart.

It's never too late.

The Phenomenal

VC.  ANDREWS

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OUVM_________________00761-0$7.99 All she wanted was to be someones
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VC.  ANDREWS

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