Page 83

"Thank you."

"Oh, see, when you smile, your face lights up. Such a beautiful face, too. I'm on my daily stroll," she continued. "I'm ninety years old and I have promised my children that when I can no longer walk in the park by myself, let them put me in some old-age residency so they don't have to worry. Funny, isn't it? We spend all our lives trying to make our children happy and even at the end, that's what drives us to do things.

"But," she said, "it's hard to be selfish, even now, even when I should be.

"Yes," she said, nodding and starting away, "whatever is troubling you will pass. Someday, you won't even remember why you were crying." She paused and looked back. "Forgetting can be a blessing."

I watched her go on and then I sucked in my breath and stood up just as a solitary sparrow flew by desperately looking for its flock.

On Sunday I awoke trembling. Would I have the courage to go to my father's home to meet his family? Now that the day was here, I was sorry I had called to say I would come. We were still little more than strangers. How could I even begin to hope it would give me any pleasure or answer any questions?

I was nervous about leaving the house. I had anticipated Grandmother Hudson's receiving my letter on Friday or Saturday and assumed, or rather hoped, she would call over the weekend. She hadn't called yet, as far as I knew. Maybe she was waiting until today. If she had received the letter and was going to call, she would do so in the morning her time and even with the five-hour time difference, I would be speaking to her before I left for my father's home.

I sifted through my clothing to find the nicest outfit to wear. I had checked the weather report and there was no chance of rain, so I chose a light-blue cotton dress and my blue cardigan sweater. It would grow cooler later so I needed a jacket as well. After that I spent hours trying to decide if I should wear some lipstick and eye shadow or not. I couldn't decide about my hair either. Finally, I settled on tying it back with a ribbon to keep it neatly behind my neck. I put on some lipstick, but no eye shadow.

Endfield Place was quiet. My great-aunt and great-uncle had gone to the country and it was Mary Margaret's and Mrs. Chester's day off as well. Boggs had driven the Endfields so I had time to be by myself in the great house without feeling I was under constant observation.

I made myself some breakfast and sat eating in the kitchen. Even with no one here, I couldn't get myself to eat in their dining room. If I left a crumb, Boggs would find it and chastise me for daring to eat there.

I read for a while, pausing now and then to wonder about Grandmother Hudson calling. By now, I knew she was up and about back in Virginia. After having read my letter, she would surely call, I thought.

To pass the time, I thought about the house and my great-aunt and great-uncle. I recalled the time I had gone upstairs with a tray of breakfast for my aunt. That was the morning she told me about their daughter. On the way out of the room, I saw what looked like the arm of a large doll sticking out from under a blanket on her rocking chair. It was the only thing I saw that suggested a child had once lived in this house, that and what I had seen in the cottage, of course.

Curiosity grew stronger and stronger and finally beckoned me to the stairs. I looked up at the shadowy second floor and then I slowly ascended. The door to my great-aunt's bedroom was closed. I hesitated. I didn't like being a little snoop, but I couldn't help but open the door to peer in at that rocking chair. There it was, a nearly life-size doll, staring at me. It was so lifelike in fact that my heart skipped a beat. For a split second, I thought it was a real little girl. My greataunt had dressed it in what looked like real clothes, too.

I continued to gaze around the bedroom. Everything was in place, the bed perfectly made. I glanced once more at the doll and then I closed the door and stood there for a moment thinking. Maybe the doll had been their daughter's. Maybe it was something Great-aunt Leonora couldn't put away or maybe she kept it there to remind her of her daughter. But why would a mother, any mother, need a reminder?

Yours would, I told myself.

I turned and looked at the door across the way. Great-aunt Leonora had shown me only her bedroom. Was that room once their daughter's? I went to the door and tried it, but it was locked. There was one more room down the hall. This door was not locked. When I peered in, I saw another bedroom, not quite as luxurious. Perhaps it was their guest bedroom, I thought, but it did have a lived-in look. I went into it farther and saw a man's clothing in the closet. There was a jacket on a hanger on the inside of the door, too. These were Great-uncle Richard's clothes. I recognized them. I never knew they slept in separate bedrooms.

The bathroom looked recently used, too. A tube of toothpaste was still open and on the tile counter by the sink. Next to it was a hairbrush and a razor.

Did

they always sleep in separate bedrooms? There wasn't even an adjoining door. Was this common in English households? I wondered.

I heard a door close downstairs and froze for a moment. What if Boggs had returned and found me up here? It must be Leo, I thought. I hoped. I practically tiptoed my way out and down the stairs. Just as I reached the bottom, Leo appeared, his head down, crossing from the living room toward the den. I stood so still he didn't notice me. When he was gone, I walked out of the house and released my hot, stifled breath.

Grandmother Hudson hadn't called, but I couldn't wait any longer. A moment later, I was hurrying down the street, fleeing from one house of strangers and heading for another.

12

A Father's Hope

.

"I'm so happy you could come," my father

declared rather loudly when he opened the door. "Please:' He stepped aside and I entered. Behind him, my half sister and half brother-stood waiting politely to be introduced.

"This is Alexandra," he said. "Alexandra, this is Rain Arnold."

She extended her hand.

"Pleased to meet you," she said.

"And this is William," my father said.