Page 88

In some ways it was better without Melodie always sitting around moodily, shadowing the rooms with her dreary depression. I made it a practice to visit Jory just before bedtime, tucking him in, opening his window, dimming the lights and seeing he had water where he could reach it. My kiss on his cheek tried to substitute for a wife's kiss.

Now that Melodie was gone, I soon found out that she had helped a little just by getting up early once in a while to change and feed the babies. She'd even bothered to diaper them several times a day.

Often Bart drifted into the nursery, as if irresistibly drawn, and stared down at the tiny twins, who had learned how to smile and had found out to their delight that those waving shadowy things were their own feet and their own small hands. They reached for the mobiles of pretty colorful birds, struggled to pull them down and put them in their mouths.

"They are kind of cute," Bart commented in a musing way that pleased me, even doing a little to help by handing

me the baby oil and talcum. Unfortunately, just when the twins almost had him won over, Joel strode into the nursery and scowled down at the beautiful babies, and all the kindness and sympathy growing in Bart vanished completely, leaving him standing beside me looking guilty.

Joel gave the twins one hard, quick glance before he turned away his offended eyes. "Just like the first twins, the evil ones," muttered Joel. "Same blond hair and blue eyes . . . no good will come of this pair either."

"What do you mean by that?" I raged. "Cory and Carrie never harmed anyone! They were the ones who were harmed. They suffered what was inflicted on them 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 flew home to stay the summer. She made determined efforts to keep her rooms neater, hanging 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 in the woods, swim in the lakes. Since I'm not allowed to have a boyfriend here, I'm going to stand alone at the top of a hill and try just strolling down. It's fun to challenge gravity and try not to run all breathless and out of control."

"By what name do you call gravity? Bill, John, Mark or Lance?"

"I'm not going to let you annoy me this time," she said arrogantly. "I like to stare up at the sky, count the stars, find the constellations, watch the moon play hide-and-seek. Sometimes the man in the moon winks at me, and I wink back. Dennis has taught me how to stand perfectly still and absorb the feel of the night. Why, I'm seeing wonders I didn't even know existed because I'm in love--madly, passionately,

ridiculously, insanely in love!"

Envy flashed through his dark eyes before he growled, "What about Lance Spalding? I thought you felt that way about him. Or did I ruin his pretty face permanently so you can't bear to look at him?"

Cindy paled. "Unlike you, Bart Foxworth, Lance is beautiful inside and out, like Daddy, and I do still love him, and Dennis, too."

Bart's frown deepened. "I know all about your nature loving! You want to sprawl on your back and spread your legs for some village idiot--and I won't have it!"

"What's going on here?" asked Chris, appearing dumbfounded to come back from the telephone and find all the peace gone.

Cindy jumped to her feet, took her stance and put her hands on her hips. She glared down into Bart's face, struggling to hold fast to that adult control she was determined to have with him. "Why do you always presume the worst about me? I just want to walk in the moonlight, and the village is ten miles away. What a pity you don't understand what it's like to be human."

Her answer and her glare seemed to infuriate him more. "You're not my sister, just a smart-ass little bitch in heat--the same as your mother!"

This time it was Chris who jumped up from the table and slapped Bart hard. Bart drew back and raised his fists, as if ready to punch Chris in the jaw-- when I jumped to my feet and placed myself in front of Chris. "No, don't you dare ever hit the man who's tried to be the best father possible! If you do, Bart, you and I are through forever!" That was enough for him to turn his dark, fiery eyes on me, so furious his look could have started a blaze.

"Why can't you see that little whore for what she is? You both see everything wrong about me, but you close your eyes to the sins of your favorites! She's nothing but a tramp, a goddamned tramp." He froze, his eyes wide and startled.

He'd taken the Lord's name in vain. He looked around to see Joel, who for once was out of sight and hearing. "You see, Mother, what she does to me? She corrupts--and in my own home, too."

Looking at Bart disapprovingly, Chris sat down again. Cindy disappeared into the house. I stared forlornly after her, as Chris spoke harshly, confronting Bart. "Can't you see that Cindy is doing her best to please you? She's been trying since she came home to do her utmost to appease you, but you won't let her. How can you take a stroll in these lonely woods as anything but innocent? From now on, I want you to treat her with respect--for if you don't you may well drive her into doing something rash. Losing Melodie 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.