Page 56
Story: Fallen Hearts (Casteel 3)
I stood up abruptly.
"You'll get your twenty-five hundred a month promptly, Fanny. An account will be set up for you and the child in the Winnerow bank, but I'm warning you now, if you ever, ever try to blackmail us further by threatening to tell the people of Winnerow stories about you and Logan. . . cut off every penny and let you fend for yourself.
"And I don't want you talking to Logan or trying to see him or contacting him in any way. If you have any problems, you'll call me directly,
understand?"
She stared up at me, her dark eyes brilliant, fired by hate and jealousy. Then her expression became a pained one. No one could discard one emotion and replace it with another as quickly as Fanny could.
"I'm so disappointed in ya, Heaven. I woulda thought ya'd feel sorry for me. I was the one taken advantage of, ya know. That's all men kin do is take advantage.
"Ya come ta my house, where I live all alone, jus' wit' two dumb guard dogs, come from ya place where ya got all those servants an' some family and a husban' an' all those fancy things, an' what do you do, treat me like some thief, instead of the sista who suffered wit' ya in the Willies. Ya shoulda come here offerin' ta do a whole lot more fer me."
"Life has not been as sweet for me as you think, Fanny. You're not the only one who has suffered and when I suffered, you were nowhere nearby to do anything for me. I had no one but myself."
"Ya had Tom. Ya always had Tom. He loved ya and never loved me, never cared fer me one bit. An' Keith and Jane don' care fer me, either."
"You'll get your money," I said. I started for the door. She got up to chase after me.
"They care fer ya becuz yer rich and fancy. Even when ya was poor and had nothin' but rags, ya acted rich and fancy and treated me like some poor relative. Ya neva wanted me fer a sista; ya neva cared fer me!" she screamed.
I went out the door and hurried toward my car. She followed down the sidewalk.
"Ya always wished ya neva had a sista like me. Ya neva wanted ta know me in school or afterward or ever. Heaven!" she yelled.
I turned to her. We stared at each other for a moment. I couldn't hide the truth. She was right.
"Truth was ya was jealous of me, Heaven, becuz Pa liked me, Pa held me; Pa kissed me. Right? Right?" she demanded. "Cuz yer birthin' killed his Angel and ya can't ever run away from that, Heaven. Neva, not by livin' in a palace or by buildin' factories, or nothin',"
She folded her arms across just under her breasts and smiled.
"I feel sorry for you, Fanny," I said. "You're like a flower planted in manure."
I turned and got into my car, but it was her laughter that followed me down the driveway and propelled me away as fast as I could go.
ELEVEN Life and Death
. THAT NIGHT I TOLD LOGAN ALL THE DETAILS ABOUT my meet
ing with Fanny and what I had agreed to. He sat at the kitchen table listening, his eyes fixed on a waterglass that he kept turning and turning in his hands. I spoke quickly and pointedly, realizing the discussion was painful for both of us. He didn't disagree with anything or ask any questions. When I finished speaking, he sighed deeply and then sat back.
"Heaven," he said, "I don't want to come down to Winnerow any more without you. I miss you too much. What do you say we buy a house down here. Something that will be so grand it will be the talk of the town. I need you with me, Heaven."
"What's wrong with our cabin?" I asked. "It's always been home to me. Why do we need a house?"
"Don't you think the owners and managers of what will be the community's bi est enterprise should have their own home, the kind of home where they can entertain important guests, hold dinners and parties? We can keep the cabin as a weekend retreat." Then he stood up. "I just think we need a fresh start here, Heaven, for both of us."
I thought about it. The cabin was tainted by what Fanny had done. Living somewhere else would help put that incident behind us. Besides, I knew that buying a fancy house was something his mother had been pushing for him to do ever since Logan and I were married. No amount of money or power mattered as long as we continued to spend our time in the Willies. Staying in the cabin in the hills, surrounded by the poor people, was degrading in his mother's, and in the other townspeoples', eyes. It made people think I had won him over to my world, rather than him winning me to his.
Power and money were changing Logan. He never went anywhere now without putting on a suit and tie. He bought a very expensive watch and a diamond pinky ring, had his newly grown beard trimmed every other day, and even went for manicures. When I asked him about it, he explained, "A man who steps out of a Rolls-Royce has got to look like he belongs in it."
I knew the real reason for my feelings had to do with what had happened between him and Fanny. I didn't like the idea of his staying in the isolated cabin, which had been the setting of their lovemaking, or whatever Logan chose to call it. And I thought Fanny might have been right when she blamed me for not spending enough time with Logan in Winnerow. If we had our own home there, there would be more reason for me to go along.
"I suppose you're right," I said. "What did you have in mind, building a house or buying one?"
"Buying." He sat forward, clasping his hands on the table and smiling like a Cheshire cat.
"You've already looked into it, haven't you?" "Uh-huh." There was an impish dazzle in his blue eyes and his smile widened.
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