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I was surprised at how roomy it was inside and how large the main bedroom was. It had a queen-size bed, carpeted floors, dressers, and a large built-in armoire. There seemed to be as much closet space as we had in the house.
"Just make yourself at home," he said. "Look around, explore, and then go up and sit on the deck, and enjoy the sea air," he told me. "I'm going over to the supermarket. I thought we'd have a special dinner tonight, filet mignon. I'll get us an apple pie and some ice cream for dessert. I know how you liked that whenever she let us have it," he said, and then slapped his hand over his mouth as if to stop any more words from emerging.
"Oops, my fault. I know, I know. I mentioned her and the past. You've got to stop me, Cathy, as soon as I do that. Okay?" He laughed. "You look stunned. It's beautiful, I know. You're going to be very happy here, very happy.
"I'll be right back," he said, and went off to the super- market.
I hobbled around looking at it all. I was surprised and even a little frightened by how many pictures of me he had. Apparently, he had taken many with him when he left the house and more when he had broken in. When I opened the armoire in the master bedroom, I discovered my mother's letters at the bottom, just behind pairs of his shoes. At least he hadn't destroyed them, I thought, and took them out. Then I went onto the deck, sat in a chair facing the outlet of the cove, and pulled the next letter from the pile. It was better than just sitting around and waiting for the world to fall on me, I thought. I had to keep my mind on something or I would go mad with fear.
My darling daughter she began this one.
Yesterday, I had the first sense that I might have made a serious mistake by giving you over to Geraldine. When the idea of having her and Howard adopt you was presented, she offered no resistence nor even suggested the slightest unhappiness about it; yet today I discovered that she has yet to give you some of the things I bought you. When I confronted her about it, she told me you weren't ready to receive things and you wouldn't appreciate them.
That wasn't why I bought them for you. I wanted to do things for you from the start and to always do things for you. I explained that to G
eraldine, but she seemed hardened, different, almost as if she had undergone some serious change in her personality. To be honest, she actually frightened me a little. Her eyes were so small and dark when I spoke to her
Your grandfather doesn't think anything of it. He says she's just adjusting to having an infant in the house. Of course, he might be right. I hope he's right, but as silly as it might seem right now, I wanted you to know why I haven't been visiting you as much. Geraldine makes it more and more difficult for me, discouraging me, telling me not to come today or finding some reason for me not to come tomorrow.
And she hasn't been here for weeks, months actually. She's turned down almost every invitation, finding some excuse or another why she or she and Howard can't make it for lunch or dinner I've even offered to take them both and you, of course, on a vacation with us, but she's b coming something of a hermit.
Howard complained to me about her a few days ago. He was here discussing a business in- vestment and he stopped in the sitting room to talk to me about her He says he can't even get her to go out to dinner anymore. I don't know what to make of it all. I'm worried.
Of course, I will call and try to visit as much as I can. Maybe it will all pass. Maybe Franklin is right: it's just a temporary adjustment to having a child for whom she must care and nourish.
That is a demanding responsibility and not everyone has the same reaction to it.
Howard is very unhappy, too. I told him I would do what I could, but then he went and said something to Geraldine about our conversation and now, this afternoon actually, she accused me of conspiring with him against her. Whatever I do seems to be wrong and to only make matters worse.
I wanted you to know all this. Isn't it silly? You're still an infant and I'm talking to you as if you were old enough to understand. Oh well, these letters are meant to be read when you can understand and I'm just trying to give you a sense of your history, our history.
Love, Mother
Every time I read that word, I felt a deep longing inside me. I was truly the orphan in our group. I had never known a real mother, nor father, for that matter. Right now, I felt like I was just a shell. It didn't matter what happened to me. I was as light and as empty as a shadow anyway. The only thing left for me to do was keep anyone else from suffering because of my horrible fate and destiny.
The letters that followed all described an 'everwidening chasm between my mother and Geraldine. In one letter my mother concluded that Geraldine was doing everything in her power to keep her from me. She described a terrible argument in which Geraldine accused her of all sorts of things, using words she had used when she had described her to me. She called her a slut and a whore. My mother claimed she even offered to take me back, but Geraldine wouldn't hear of it. What would it make her look like if she gave me up like that, she wanted to know. She blamed my mother for ruining whatever future she had, whatever hope for love and happiness she had. My mother wondered if Geraldine might not be right. I sensed that my mother went into a deep depression. Her letters became painted with apologies. I could almost hear her wailing and moaning as she wrote long sentences of mea culpa. Suddenly, I had become the embodiment of all her sins and my very existence was meant to serve as a constant reminder.
No wonder she had drifted away and I had seen so little of her after a while. It was both because Geraldine wanted it that way and because she herself had difficulty looking at what she considered her sins. I began to wish I had never found the letters and read them. My father had done me a favor by taking them. I wanted to toss them over the side of the boat.
Someday, I thought, I'll toss myself over as well, but not yet, not until enough time had gone by to ensure my friends would be safe.
I fell asleep in the lounge chair and woke when I felt a little chill and realized the sun was so far west, shadows were stretching over me. I could hear my father working to music below. A short while afterward, he came up to announce that dinner was ready.
"I knew you would enjoy sitting up there," he said as I started into the cabin. He saw the letters in my hand. "Oh, you found those, huh? I wanted to throw them away, but I thought I'd leave it up to you what to do with them. They are yours and Geraldine had no right to hide them from you. See," he added, "I'm going to treat you like the adult you are."
"I wish you had thrown them away," I muttered, and put them aside.
He stepped back so I could get a full view of the dinner table. He had candles lit and the table set with salads, French bread, and a bottle of wine.
"How do you like the china? Geraldine would never even dream of spending what I spent on dishes," he added quickly, and laughed. "Pretty, isn't it?" He lifted up a plate to show me the design.
"Yes," I said.
He pulled out my chair.
"Mademoiselle Cathy."
I looked at him, smiling, beaming, behaving like a schoolboy, oblivious to everything he had done and everything that was wrong with what we were about to do. He was fully caught up in his fantasies now and I was afraid of doing anything that might shatter the illusions.
