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“I wouldn’t call it that, Semantha. It’s not for a competitor. It’s our own internal evaluation.”
“You haven’t been here long enough to be doing that, Ethan.”
I could see my comment cut him deeply, but I couldn’t help resenting the fact that a promise to Lucille was more important than being with me, even if I was asleep.
“Lucille feels I can do it,” he replied, as if that was all that needed to be said about it.
“Only my father knows who can and cannot do such a thing,” I insisted.
“Well, he must know about it if she asked me to do it, don’t you think, Semantha?”
“Maybe.”
“It’s not a big deal. Don’t be so upset. Why would you be so upset, anyway?” He rose and came to me. He took my hands into his and smiled. “C’mon, don’t ruin a perfectly wonderful secret honeymoon.”
“You wouldn’t work on your honeymoon, would you?” I countered.
His smile faded. “All right. I’ll shut down the computer and come up.”
“Do what you want,” I said, pulling my hands from his and leaving Daddy’s office.
He was up and beside me minutes later, kissing me and rambling on and on with one sort of apology after another. Finally, to get some sleep myself, I told him I wasn’t upset, just surprised. I’d be fine. He accepted that and went to sleep himself, but it left me with an uneasy feeling. There were new currents running under Heaven-stone. I could hear the rumbling, and it kept me awake almost until the morning.
I forgot all of this until the day Daddy and Lucille returned. Ethan didn’t do any more work at home the remainder of the time, and the fun we had been having returned. We had just finished dinner when they burst in, both of them with armfuls of gifts for both Ethan and myself. I was surprised that Daddy had not bought anything for Mrs. Dobson and Doris. Before, whenever he returned from a trip bearing gifts, there had always been something for them.
Even though their trip sounded wonderful, we could see how happy they both were to have returned. While Daddy, Ethan, and I sat in the den and listened to his summary of the trip, Lucille went about the mansion and even checked on things outside. Daddy remarked that holding her down was like trying to lasso a comet.
“She dragged me into every department store in every port so we could see how things were being run in different places. At times, I thought we were on a business trip, but that’s my Lucille.”
My Lucille, I thought. Every new expression, every time he referred to her, made me wince. Not her time here before, or the wedding, or the honeymoon had driven it home as much as Daddy’s including her in most references to himself. They were now truly one, and she was beyond any doubt firmly and completely Mrs. Heaven-stone, my stepmother.
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Neither Ethan nor I had any hint as to what Lucille had been doing or had seen during her tour of the house or the grounds. She said nothing when she returned to the den. She was more interested in what I had been doing, how I had spent my time.
“I’ll hear about what Ethan’s been doing tomorrow,” she said, and turned her attention to me.
It didn’t take me long to finish my account of our days. Without comment, she declared that she was tired and did, after all, have a big day back at work tomorrow. She reminded us about the Citizen of the Year award dinner on the weekend and then yawned and stretched. It was a signal to Daddy as well, who rose to go up with her.
Ethan said it was time for him to get to sleep as well. It was as if whatever Lucille decided, she decided for everyone, except me, of course. I was a little tired, but, perhaps to show my independence more than anything, I remained downstairs for another hour watching television. When I went up later and saw that the lights were low and the house was quiet, I realized our little pretend honeymoon was over and the new regime had begun. I expected some changes would take place, but I had no inkling of how deep and how dramatic those changes would be.
I didn’t go down to breakfast with everyone. Ethan came by to tell me he was leaving and was going in with Lucille in her car. He made it sound as if that was some sort of honor.
“Then you won’t be back until she comes home today?”
“Yes,” he said, looking as if that fact had just occurred to him, too. “Unless your father starts back earlier, which I doubt,” he quickly added. “See you later.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips and hurried away.
The realization that I would be spending most of my time alone now settled in when I finally did go down for breakfast. Doris had already gone upstairs to clean and restore Daddy and Lucille’s bedroom as well as Ethan’s. Mrs. Dobson tried to spend time with me, but she had her duties to perform as well and looked more concerned about them than ever.
I pondered my future when I went out to the pool and sat on a chaise. Maybe Ethan was right. Maybe I should enroll in a nearby college, or maybe Uncle Perry was right, and I should go to work in his office. Daddy certainly didn’t pressure me to do anything. I could see the concern in his face when I described how uneventful and simple all that I had been doing was, but I could also see that he was afraid of stirring up some sleeping mental problem that would send me rushing back to Dr. Ryan for therapy. More than once, I had heard him tell Lucille, “She’ll find herself.”
Was I really lost? Where does one begin looking for herself? I had often sat looking at family albums, searching for some clue in my younger face. Sometimes all of us looked like strangers, I thought. Even I looked like a stranger to myself. Mother had used to say she got her identity by being the other half of her marriage and running Heaven-stone. She had had great responsibility, but she had loved who and what she was. It identified her. Other women might be identified by their careers, she had said, but she was confident that most weren’t as content.
I tried to develop an interest in some sort of career, breezing through descriptions of professions and jobs in a book I suspected Lucille had left lying around for just that purpose. Nothing filled me with any passion or enthusiasm. Maybe that was what Daddy meant by my being lost. I simply didn’t care which road I took or where it would lead.
The only place my mind continually directed me was to my cousin’s home and my daughter. How, if ever, would I meet her? If I projected myself and her twenty years ahead, would that be when she would learn who I was? Would she have any interest in me then? Would she be angry that she had never been told the truth? Would she think her adopted parents would be terribly hurt if she showed the slightest interest in me? All of it played continuously in my mind, but lately, it was more intense. I was tempted to drive back to the Normans’ ranch and once again try to see my daughter.
By mid-afternoon, I was feeling terribly sorry for myself, so much so that I almost missed the sound of someone crying when I returned to the house to change and have some lunch. I paused and listened. It was coming from the kitchen. I went to the door and listened harder. I could hear Mrs. Dobson trying to calm Doris. What terrible thing had happened in her family? I knocked so they would know I was there and entered. Both were sitting at the kitchenette and looked up, surprised. Both had been crying.
