Mystique (16 page)

"You're beautiful," Luc said
huskily.

Misty felt a smile tremble on
her lips, then disappear. "I used to work so hard to get A's in school.
But when I brought my report card home, my father would accuse me of having
cheated." She paused but didn't look at Luc. "I had started taking
piano lessons when I was seven, but my parents stopped paying for them when I
got older. They even sold our piano. After that, I took free lessons at school.
I got a job cleaning classrooms after school for a few dollars and the right to
practice on the piano in the music room. I liked sports and was on the swim
team. But neither of my parents ever came to see me compete, even though I was
written up in the newspapers for setting three county records."

Misty's voice faltered, her eyes stinging
and her throat going dry. "Then, when I was sixteen, I was asked to the
senior prom." Her voice dropped. "My aunt made my dress. I had fun.
We went out for breakfast. We came home at six in the morning. My father met me
on the front porch. He... he called me a whore right in front of my date, Howie
Breston. Howie was shocked, but he tried to explain that we'd been with other
people the whole time. My father... my father said that if I was pregnant,
Howie's father would have to pay for the abortion. It wasn't true, Luc. I was a
virgin." Misty forced herself to say the words. "After that, I went
to live with my aunt and uncle because my father said he wouldn't have a whore
in his house. But I'd never... never..." Misty raised a hand to her
trembling mouth. "When I didn't have a baby, my father said that I had
gotten rid of it."

"I'll kill him." Luc's harsh
voice penetrated her pain-filled thoughts.

"No." She took in a deep
breath. "I honestly didn't think it would be so bad for my sisters.
Otherwise I would have tried to do something. I really thought it was just
me."

"Your parents needed other targets
after you left," Luc told her.

"My mother never said very
much." Misty shrugged and gave a crooked smile. "But she wasn't much
help either."

"No?" Luc kissed each of her
palms. "So you went to school while you were living with your aunt and
uncle."

"Yes. I got a scholarship to attend
the Eastman School of Music. I considered myself lucky to be studying
piano." She looked up at Luc. "That's where I met Richard Lentz. We
came to New York together."

"I already know all I want to about
Richard and Leonard," he said mildly, running a finger down her nose.
"As long as I'm the man in your life now, they aren't important."

"I realize now that they never
were." Misty wanted to tell Luc what his coming into her life had meant to
her, but she couldn't seem to find the words.

Luc remained by her side for the rest of
the day. Misty knew it would have been a nightmare without him. That evening
she talked to her sisters on the phone. They seemed fine.

The next day Luc rose with her, showered,
and dressed. He insisted that she sit down and have a good breakfast. They were
finishing their coffee when the phone rang. Mrs. Wheaton brought the phone to
the table.

"Yes, Aileen," said Luc.
"No, that's fine. In about twenty minutes? Thanks. I'll call my
sister." He hung up and dialed. "Alice? Yes. In about twenty minutes.
Fine."

Luc gazed at Misty. "I'm sure you
know what's going on. We'll entertain your parents in the living room. I'll
have Mrs. Wheaton make more coffee. Don't worry, love. I'll be right beside
you."

Luc's smile warmed her. "Yes, I know
you will," she murmured. "I'm not afraid, not now." And she
wasn't. She felt as if a great weight was being lifted from her shoulders. She
felt lighter, freer. "You did it," she murmured to her husband as he
took her hand and walked with her down the hall to the living room.

"What did I do?" he asked,
slipping his arm around her waist.

"Saved my life." She leaned her
head on his shoulder. "No matter what happens now, I know I can face it.
I'll be strong."

"You have been strong, every step of
the way. The only thing you've lacked is an appreciation of your own
courage."

"And you gave me that." Misty
wanted both to laugh out loud and to cry. "You've given me a great
deal."

Luc left her for a moment a
while later to put a match to the tinder under the fresh logs in the fireplace.
He was coming back to her, a now familiar glint in his eye, when the doorbell
chimed.

Misty was aware that Luc saw her start,
but he just squeezed her hand, saying nothing. She heard him tell the
housekeeper that he would answer the door himself.

The murmur of voices came closer. Misty
stood facing the door, her hands clasped in front of her as her mother and
father entered. Her mother's hair was pulled back in a stiff knot, and she wore
a plain dress. Her father was of about the same medium height with freckled
skin and thinning sandy hair. His eyes were green; her mother's were pale
blue. Both of them were tight-lipped and tense.

Misty was surprised that they looked so
small. How alike they were—pinched, stiff, narrow-eyed. "Mother, Father,
how are you?" she said.

"Much you ever cared—" her
father began.

"Unless you would like to be thrown
through that window into the street, you will speak politely to my wife,"
Luc informed them casually as he closed the door.

"Hey!" Alvan Carver said, his
eyes shooting from Misty to his wife to Luc.

"I mean what I say," Luc added,
each syllable ringing with conviction in the high-ceilinged room.

"It would seem that Misty has
married a bad-mannered person. She isn't like us," her mother pronounced
in low tones.

"Neither Misty nor I wish to be
discourteous," Luc said formally. "Perhaps you would like to be
seated." He gestured toward some chairs near the fireplace.

"Alvan, ask him where the girls are.
We can't stay long." Marilyn Carver swallowed, and her eyes became mere
slits in her face.

"Yes, we've come to fetch our
daughters and take them home," Misty's father declared. But his eyes slid
away from her face.

"I don't think they'll be
going," Misty said coolly. "But in any case I think they should be
allowed to make that decision for themselves."

"You be careful what—" Alvan
Carver glanced at Luc and coughed nervously. "We have a right to take our
girls home."

"They're of age. They can decide for
themselves," Luc said bluntly.

Just then Bruno padded into the room, the
irritated voices bringing his ears forward. He went straight to Misty's side
and put his muzzle into her hand.

"You hate dogs," her mother
grated, her eyes fixed on the animal. "He'll bite you."

Misty stared at her mother with sudden
insight. She was a bitter woman, filled with fear and anger. But Misty's own
pain was gone. With deep gratitude for her therapist and, most of all, for Luc,
she realized that she no longer hated her parents.

She looked at Luc, trying to convey all
the love she felt for him. Her world seemed complete.

In the silence that followed, the
doorbell chimed again, and Alice and John entered, followed by Misty's sisters.
Alice launched immediately into angry speech. "I don't know what the
trouble is, but my lawyer, Willard Harter of Harter, Harter and Young, will
join us here this morning if we need him. And he tells me that Mr. and Mrs.
Carver don't have a leg to stand on." Alice placed her arm in front of the
three Carver girls like a protective barrier. Misty's sisters looked wary but
unafraid.

Misty watched Betsy bite her lip, then
lift her chin, and she felt her own face break into a tentative smile. She
glanced at Celia, who nodded and gave Misty a shaky smile. Marcy shrugged, and
kept a sharp eye on her parents.

"Girls," their mother greeted
them, pursing her lips.

Misty's sisters nodded warily in
greeting. Alvan Carver nodded, too, puzzlement flashing momentarily in his
eyes.

"Darling, this is Alice's husband,
John." Luc indicated a tall, rather stoop-shouldered man to Misty's right.

"I'm also backup for Alice," John explained sotto voce. "She's fully committed to your sisters."
His eyes glinted with amusement. "I'm going to try to prevent her from
running your parents out of the country."

Misty felt a knot of tears in
her throat as John patted her shoulder and went to stand next to her sisters.
Why had she been worried? Hadn't Luc told her he would take care of everything?
She stayed in the comfort of her husband's arm as she faced her parents.
"The girls will be staying with us, Father. Marcy and Celia want to go to
school, and Betsy may decide she wants to go, too. They'll make their own
choices."

Misty's mother was struggling visibly
with her anger. "You know what you are," she said threateningly.
"I'm too much a lady to use the word, but you know what you are." Her
mother's sharp eyes darted to each sister in turn. "All you wanted to do
was chase the boys. You didn't want to stay home with me and learn to cook and
sew as I did when I was a girl. None of you is like me."

"How dare you speak to your own
daughters like that!" Alice shot at her. "You will not be allowed to
intimidate them." She looked down her nose at Misty's mother.

"Intimidate them!" Alvan
echoed. "We're their parents. We've come to take them home."

"We won't go, Daddy," Celia
said. "We want to live here and go to school."

Misty's mother turned red. "How dare
you! Alvan, listen to what they're saying. Do something." She whirled on
Misty. "You were never pretty! Never! You were an ugly child, and so were
they. They never—" Abruptly she stopped herself. She looked around at the
people staring at her. "We... we have come to take our girls home with us.
The neighbors—"

"They aren't going, Mother,"
Misty said in a quiet voice, feeling a rush of pity for her mother and her
bewildered father. "Perhaps someday they'll want to see you, but not for a
while." She gestured for her sisters to come toward her. "They're
staying here."

"At our house," John said
mildly, taking a pipe out of his pocket and putting it in his mouth. "Alice has already registered them at a small college near our home. If after a time they
choose to do something else..." He shrugged, smiling owlishly at Misty's
parents.

As Misty's father looked at each of his
daughters in turn, he seemed to age ten years right before their eyes.

"I think that settles it,
then." Luc turned as Mrs. Wheaton pushed a coffee cart into the room.
"Ah, I'd love a cup. I'll fix you one, darling. Betsy, will you pour for
our guests?"

Misty felt deeply sorry for her parents.
But she felt no rancor, no bitterness. Luc had freed her of those destructive
emotions. The heavy weight she'd carried for years was gone. She was finally at
peace with herself.

"Coffee, Mother? Father?" Betsy
quizzed, smiling as she took charge of the refreshments.

"I think we'll
leave," Alvan Carver said flatly. Again he looked at each of his four
daughters. Then he took his wife's arm, and they walked to the door.

"I'll see you out." Misty
followed them, Luc at her side. She took a deep breath at the touch of his warm
hand at her waist. "Mother, Father, you're free to visit any of us at any
time. Just call first." Her voice was low and sure.

"My wife and I will welcome you to
our home," Luc said formally. "And of course you may see your other
daughters, in either my presence or in my wife's."

"I see." Her father's face had
taken on a gray cast. "I think maybe we might see you someday, girl."
He glanced at his thin-lipped wife. "Come along, Marilyn. I'll take you
home."

Her mother scarcely looked at Misty
before she clutched her husband's arm. "Let's go."

"Father..." Misty took his arm,
the first physical contact she'd had with him in many years. "I want you
to know that I truly believe it's never too late to start over in life."

Without meeting her eyes he nodded, then
walked through the door with his wife. Misty watched them as they got into
their car and drove away.

"Are you all right, love?" Luc
asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine. I feel so sorry for
them—for my father— for all of us really. It all seems very sad." She looked
up at him. "But you've given me hope." She pressed his arm. "I
saw them with new eyes today."

Luc shrugged. "Your mother needs
counseling. So does your father. Maybe they'll begin to realize that."

"Luc, I want to keep in touch with
my father and see that my mother gets the help she needs." She turned to
face him. "But I never would have seen any of this without you. I would
have kept all that insecurity to myself forever." She smiled at him.

Luc kissed her nose.
"You hid too much of your pain, my love. Especially from your parents. But
you've come a long way since you lived with them. Even before I met you, you
were well on the way to coming to terms with yourself. When you left Richard
and Leonard, you were already beginning to question your reasons for doing
things."