Read Cloudburst Online

Authors: V.C. Andrews

Cloudburst (38 page)

“How long has Donald known that you're moving forward with a divorce?”

“He doesn't know it yet. That's why I'm meeting with my attorney today and tonight for dinner. She'll have the papers ready to file. I'm thinking of bringing them home and leaving them on his desk in his office here. It's a cold way for him to find out, but he'll know I'm not the fool he thinks I am,” she said, standing.

“I'm sorry.”

“You don't worry about any of this.” She smiled. “My attorney has been working simultaneously on the paperwork I need to legally adopt you. It's better that I do the divorce procedure first, since we'd need Donald's agreement on everything, and I want him separated from it all first.”

“Have you told Kiera any of this yet?” If she had, I thought, Kiera was certainly very good at hiding it.

The light in her eyes dimmed as her face tightened. “No. I don't trust her,” she said, and started out again.

I followed her to the front door. She opened it but hesitated and then turned to me.

“This is going to sound strange to you, but in a way, I envy your mother for the way she lost her husband. She didn't have to go through all that I will have to go through out there with my friends, my family. Her husband was out of her life almost instantly. Of course, I realize what that did to the two of you. I'm thinking of it from a purely selfish viewpoint.”

She smiled.

“Try to keep busy, Sasha. Maybe you should return to school tomorrow. It sounds a little heartless for me to say it, but that old adage about getting right back on your bike after you fall off is so true. Lose yourself in normal teenage-girl stuff. Go to dances, flirt, do some frivolous things. Borrow a little of Kiera's attitude.” She smirked. “At least she is a survivor.”

“But she's not happy,” I said quickly.

“I know. That girl's gotten everything she wanted whenever she wanted it. Well, maybe that's why she's unhappy. I'll see you later.”

“What if Donald comes home?” I asked before she closed the door behind her.

“Give him a little of his own treatment. Act as if nothing is wrong. The only satisfaction I have right now
is the satisfaction I'll enjoy when he is taken by complete surprise.”

She smiled again and closed the door behind her.

I stood there feeling more numb than sad or frightened by anything she had told me. It was as if I had run out of emotion, any emotion. When I glanced at myself in one of the wall mirrors, I thought I resembled a prisoner of war who had been so brainwashed she was almost lobotomized. She wouldn't even realize she had been rescued.

So many new questions occurred to me. How would this divorce really turn out? I couldn't imagine Donald giving up his estate, despite the fact that he was gone from it so much lately. I knew how proud he was of the house and the beautiful grounds. The Richardson Romanesque architecture had been his choice, not Jordan's. He had been the one who wanted to build the lake, too. Would their settlement involve Jordan getting a new home? How long would that take to do? Would Kiera refuse to live in any new home with her mother? Would I have to change schools? What would happen to Mrs. Duval and Mrs. Caro? With whom would they go?

This estate, with all of its employees, was such a big responsibility. I couldn't imagine Jordan wanting to bear it all herself. It was impossible to be uncomfortable here or to be unimpressed with all it had to offer anyone who lived here, but I wouldn't be particularly devastated about moving away.

What did occur to me was Jordan's emotional tie to Alena's room, my room. Would she really be able to leave that behind her? I was sure she would take many of Alena's
things, but I still had the impression that whenever she was in the suite, she was standing in a shrine.

Even without this news, I realized that there were many more cloudy days to come for me. The gloom that had entered with news of Ryder's death would settle for some time in every nook and corner of this mansion. The silences I had known here would deepen. Shadows would be more secure. Even the sunlight would feel out of place and gladly flee from closed shades and curtains. Neither the size of this estate with all that it offered nor all of its opulence and beauty could stop the winds of melancholy from blowing in and over us all.

Mrs. Duval knew I'd be eating alone. She suggested that I have dinner in the kitchen nook. She and Mrs. Caro would join me if I liked. Of course, I said yes. They were really my family now. I didn't think they knew what was coming. I would say nothing about it, of course. Sitting with them, I had the first meal I'd enjoyed since Ryder's death. I listened to them talk about their own youth and some of the silly things they had done. They laughed and made fun of each other. I knew they were doing it mostly for my benefit, but I so enjoyed them.

Afterward, I took a short walk around the grounds. I went to the pool and sat. Commercial jet planes looked as if they were as high as the stars. I imagined that those heading west were heading for Hawaii, Australia, or Asia. People in them were settling down after their dinners, too. Some were watching television or reading. I envied them, so far above the problems of the world below. They were leaving their mundane, everyday life behind and looking forward
to some wonderful new adventure. They'd sleep peacefully, dreaming of their arrivals.

Ryder would understand why I was thinking like this. When would I meet someone like him again, someone with whom I knew I could share my most intimate thoughts and feelings? Maybe I never would. Maybe I'd fall into a marriage or a relationship doomed to end the way my mother's had or the way Jordan's was going to end.

Sitting there and thinking these thoughts, I realized why it was that Mrs. Caro would never predict anything terribly important for me—or anyone else, for that matter. It wasn't a blessing to see your future. First, it could be tragic, and second, if it wasn't, you'd worry about the tomorrows to come that might bring unhappiness, an unhappiness that would be deeper and stronger because it came after so much pleasure. Life, no matter who you were or how much money you had, was never a straight and narrow line in either direction. It was full of ups and downs, smiles and tears, joy and sadness. True, some people had less of one or the other, but no one had only one. Surviving seemed to be the only point to living. It was as true for me as it was for that ant I saw moving with determination over the edge of the pool. Maybe it was lost and was finding its way home.

That's what we all do, anyway,
I thought,
try to find our way home.

I sat for quite a while until I saw the glow of a pair of headlights sweep the grounds and turned to see Jordan pull into the garage. Carrying a folder, she went quickly into the house. I rose and headed in myself. I was tired, and I
thought I just might take her advice and return to school tomorrow, even though I dreaded what awaited me.

When I entered the house, Jordan was coming back from Donald's office.

“I was just going up to your room to see how you were,” she said.

“I'm okay. I think I will go to school tomorrow.”

“That's good, Sasha,” she said, and put her arm around me. “We both have to get stronger and stand by each other now.”

She kissed me on the forehead, holding her lips there a moment or two longer, and then we headed up the stairway in silence. When we paused at my room, I asked her if she knew when Donald would be home, since he still had not returned.

“He left word that he would be back tomorrow, but he would be going to his company office first. It's not going to be pretty,” she said. “I left the papers in his office here, and with them are the pictures and the details my detective accumulated. Don't you worry about it, though. Nothing will change for you,” she promised, kissed me again, and went to her bedroom.

Nothing will change for me?

I was young when my parents' marriage was coming apart, but the memories of those arguments, the horrid things that were said, the rage my mother felt and showed, all of those images were like sleeping rodents. Once one was nudged, they all woke and scurried through my mind, scratching and clawing at my resistance until each scene was once again vivid enough to make me shudder and cry
as hard as I had cried back then. I knew what to expect here. What little laughter there had been in this house lately would surely evaporate.

It was difficult to fall asleep. I listened to every sound in the great mansion like someone waiting for the second shoe to drop. On top of all of this was the sorrow I was anticipating the moment I entered homeroom tomorrow and saw Ryder's empty desk. I was afraid my heart would simply tighten up, shrivel, and stop. I knew everyone would be watching me, too, perhaps expecting me to burst into tears or simply get up and run out of the building. They would try to talk about other things, but their eyes would be asking questions constantly, hoping I would just break down and tell them everything.

Mrs. Duval came by in the morning to check on me as usual, but by the time she did, I was already dressed and ready to go down to breakfast. Jordan was up, too, and already at the table.

“How are you feeling?” she asked the moment I entered.

“Okay,” I said. I wasn't. I was trembling so hard inside myself already that I couldn't imagine getting out of the car in the school parking lot and managing to reach the entrance.

“Would you like me to drive you to school this morning? It's no problem for me.”

“No. If I'm going to do this, I had better do it all,” I replied. “Thank you.”

She leaned over to pat my hand. “That's what I like to hear. We're both going to be all right,” she said. “I'll be
home for dinner, so don't worry if I'm not here when you return from school. There is still much for me to do.”

“What about Kiera? When will she know?”

“After Donald returns and sees what's what, we'll discuss informing Kiera. When you and I first met in the hospital after that horrible, unnecessary tragedy, you'll remember I blamed Donald for Kiera's behavior. He defended her too much and used his influence to get her out of trouble too often. It's very true when they say you reap what you sow in this world. I'm not wholly without blame, but Kiera is more Donald's daughter than mine, I'm afraid. She's always been closer to him than to me.”

Not lately, I thought. She hadn't been close to either of them. Maybe she sensed that her father was drifting away. Perhaps it never had occurred to her that he would be an adulterer, and that was why she blamed his attention to me for his diminished interest in her.

“I'll let Donald lead the charge when it comes to explaining this to Kiera. But please try not to think of it all right now. Concentrate on building yourself back up. You have a wonderful future ahead of you, especially with your school grades. You have to decide on a college soon, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“There's lots to think about and lots for both of us to do. Keeping busy is the best cure for sadness and disappointment.”

I looked at my watch. “I guess I had better get going,” I said, and rose.

“Call me if you need anything or decide you'd rather be home today, too. If you don't feel like driving back . . .”

“I'll be all right,” I said.

“Of course you will. Be careful,” she said.

She kissed me, and I started out. I picked up the books I had left the night before on the bench the way I always did and went out to my car.

I had eaten more than I had thought I would at breakfast. My reason for that was Mrs. Duval's watchful eyes. The butterflies in my stomach flew up and into my throat, but I swallowed them back. Now that I was actually going, it was as if I hadn't eaten a thing. My stomach felt hollow and empty. My body was so light that I thought I might float off. I forced myself to focus on everything I had to do and actually recited aloud the steps to starting my car and driving away as if I were taking my driver's test again and there was a motor vehicle agent right beside me. I thought that if I kept saying everything aloud, I would keep myself from thinking about what lay ahead.

“Turn right. Turn left. Stop at the stop sign. Speed up. Slow down. Signal.”

Anyone overhearing me would think I had truly gone crazy. I tried not to look at anyone when I pulled into the parking lot and into my space. I kept my head down and my gaze low as I walked to the entrance. I was hoping to make it to my locker and then to homeroom before anyone approached me, but word that I had come to school was already being transmitted with the speed of a cell-phone call, especially to my classmates. Sydney and Jessica were waiting at my locker.

“How are you?” Sydney asked with the exaggeration of an amateur actor.

“Fine,” I said, not looking at her. I started to open my locker and stopped. I had nothing to take out and nothing to put in.

“We've all already met with the counselor Dr. Steiner brought in. Maybe they'll bring her back for you,” Sydney said, clearly making the point that I was the one who would really need it.

“I'm glad you're here,” Jessica said. “You just tell us if you need anything.”

“I need to be left alone,” I said, and walked to homeroom. I tried not to look at anyone else. My memories of the first day I had entered this school came surging back. There I was, limping my way from class to class, my face a portrait of terror for sure. I had not been in a formal school setting for some time, and despite the fiction Jordan had created for my biography, I still believed that anyone who looked at me saw nothing more than a street urchin.

I sucked in my breath, pressed my lips tightly together, and entered the homeroom, unable not to glance at Ryder's empty desk. To my surprise, Shayne Peters was sitting at it. For a moment, the shock kept me from moving. He smiled at me. I glared at him and went to my desk. Jessica sat just across from me in homeroom.

Other books

Pivot Point by Kasie West
All's Fair in Love and Lion by Bethany Averie
Southampton Row by Anne Perry
The Aura by Carrie Bedford
Rock Radio by Wainland, Lisa
Twisted Arrangement 2 by Early, Mora
Shadows by Ilsa J. Bick


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024