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"My mother will handle it; she always does," I said as my admiration for my mother brightened my spirits. "She can be a lady no matter what. I hope have half her strength when I'm her age."
Luke nodded knowingly, that deep analytical look in his eyes as he came to his conclusion.
"You will. You're just like her."
"Thank you. There is no one I would rather be like. And don't worry about the party. I'll be there with you to help if Aunt Fanny gets out of hand," I assured him, my eyes as intense and my face as determined as Mommy's could be when she was decided about something.
"You haven't seen her really out of hand, Annie," Luke warned. Then he shook his head and smiled, his face brightening. "Anyway, thanks for listening. You've always been there when I've needed you and it's always made a difference. You don't realize how much of a difference, Annie. Just knowing you were there for me helped me to go on, to climb those taller mountains, to want to see that view. When I was accepted to Harvard, I thought to myself, Annie will be proud and it's because of Annie that I want this so much, want to make so much of myself. Sometimes, I feel you're the only real family I have. Thank you, Annie."
"You don't have to thank me for that, Luke Toby, Jr." I didn't like the way it sounded, like I was just a good friend. I was more; I had to be more. I wanted to be more. "You have often listened to my troubles, too."
He smiled at my reminder, his blue eyes turning as soft and warm as the sky above us.
"I'll miss you when you go off to Europe to study art. I know how important it is to you, though," he added softly. "And I know it's going to help you become the wonderful artist you are meant to become."
"I'll write to you all the time, but I'm sure after the first week, you'll have yourself a "bean town" girlfriend." How I wanted to tell him that I would always be his girlfriend, but how could I? We were brother and sister and it seemed as if the whole world stood between us and what we really wanted, for I knew in my heart that he felt some of what I felt and there was a part of both of us that cried and mourned and wished we could stay together forever and ever.
So we had to pretend, to talk about each other finding someone else, even though in our hearts, we hoped and prayed it would never happen.
His smile disappeared and he turne
d as serious as a deacon on Sunday.
"I don't know. After having you for a friend all my life, she's going to have to be pretty perfect whoever she is." His shiny blue eyes swung my way again, filled with warmth and affection, but it was more than just a brotherly affection. He looked at me with such longing I felt a flush move up my neck and settle into my cheeks. He was looking at me and I was looking at him the way two young lovers would.
There was no denying it. Every part of me cried out to embrace him; I could almost feel his lips against mine. He waited, looking for some
encouragement. I had to stop it before it went too far.
"I'll call you later," I whispered in a breathy voice, and ran down the walkway to the front entrance of Hasbrouck House. When I looked back, he was still standing there. He waved and I waved back. I slipped into the house and rushed up to my room quickly, my heart thumping harder than ever. Why did Luke have to be my half brother, closer to me than anyone my age could be? We shared so much, our happiness and our sadness.
How I wished that he was a stranger going to Harvard, and I was visiting Tony Tatterton at Farthinggale, and Luke and I had just met in Boston. Perhaps we would meet in a department store. He would come up beside me and say something like, "Oh that's not your color. Here." He would reach for the aqua shawl. "You want to bring out the blue in your eyes."
I would turn and look into the most handsome face I had ever seen and instantly fall in love.
"Forgive me for being so forward, but I couldn't stand by and watch you make a mistake." He would speak with his familiar self-confidence and sweep me off my feet. I always felt more secure when I was with Luke.
"Then I'll have to thank you," I would say, batting my eyelashes coquettishly. "But first I have to know your name."
"Luke. And your name is Annie. I already took the trouble to find out."
"Really?" I would be flattered, impressed. Afterward we would go for coffee and talk and talk. We would go to movies and dinner every time I came to Boston. Then, he would come to see me at the estate and we would get to know one another in that palatial setting, only it wouldn't be the way Drake had described it; it would be the way Luke and I had fantasized: a castle filled with rainbow rooms of dreams. If only I could go to sleep and when I woke up, the fantasy be a reality.
But that couldn't be. Time was like a roller coaster and we were approaching the peak of the steepest hill. We were both about to graduate high school and then we would go rushing downward into our futures that might easily take us into far different directions. We couldn't even turn around to look back.
After I stood by my bedroom window and watched him walk off, I lay there on ray bed, staring out the window through the pink and white curtains, hearing the birds serenade each other and listening to the thumping of my own heart. It made me so sad that I cried for what seemed like hours. Mother's soft, concerned voice rescued me from my own tears.
"Annie, what's wrong?" She came in quickly and sat beside me on the bed. "Honey?" I felt the comfort of her hand on my hair, stroking the long, dark brown strands with concern. I turned my tearfilled my eyes toward her.
"Oh Mother, I don't know," I moaned. "Sometimes, I just can't help crying and feeling just terrible. I know I should be happy. Soon I'll be graduating and going off for an extended visit to Europe, seeing all those wonderful places most people only read about or see pictures of, and I have so many things other girls my age don't have, but . ."
"But what, Annie?"
"But suddenly everything seems to be happening too fast. Luke is getting ready to go off to college and become someone else. We'll probably hardly ever see each other again," I cried.
"But this is what it means to grow up, honey." She smiled and kissed my cheek.
"And all the things that used to look so big and important to me look small and . . . and simple. The gazebo . . ."
