12
I DID FALL asleep quicker than I imagined I would. The tension and fear I brought to bed with me had been swept away by Ryder’s kisses and caresses. It was a fantasy realized, but what did it mean? How could we ever care for each other in this house, in the Davenport world? Would every moment have to be stolen and hidden? Would I have to lie to my mother?
What a wonder Wyndemere was, I thought. It not only housed many secrets, it created new ones. It was as if the deep shadows, the moans and creaks in the walls, and antiques full of memories encouraged additional mystery. It welcomed more whispers and clandestine activities. It was a garden ripe for lies. Black roses grew everywhere, and now Ryder and I were about to plant a new one.
Suddenly, Bea Davenport’s forbidding me to enter the main house for any purpose other than something that was absolutely necessary was welcomed, for how could I be in the same room with Ryder and not have my deeper, loving, sexual affection for him unmasked? Bea’s ever suspicious and condemning eyes would pounce on a look, a smile, a surreptitious touch. Now that I thought about that, I did have new nightmares.
There! she cried, loudly enough to bring Dr. Davenport out of his office or down the stairway. She was pointing her long right forefinger at us. The fingernail looked like a razor. Didn’t I warn you? Didn’t I have good reason to prohibit her from socializing with your son, whether it was something as seemingly innocent as riding along with him and our daughter in the limousine or as dangerous as having her at dates and parties with him?
In my horrible dream, Dr. Davenport’s handsome face then became disfigured. His beautiful silvery eyes reddened with rage, and his lips contorted as his teeth grew more like vampire fangs.
No! he cried, and slammed his fist against the wall. Every chandelier shook, some paintings fell off walls, and a trembling expensive antique vase tumbled and smashed on the floor.
Of course, I woke up with that sound. It was nearly morning and useless to try to return to sleep. I lay there with my eyes open, thinking and planning, with panic stinging my spine. Ryder had to beware of this show of affection toward me. He should be especially careful when he looked at me, even when he gazed my way while I was waiting for the school bus. Bea must never see his face at those moments. And when we were in school, we had to be even more careful. For all I knew, Alison had sensed something in Ryder as well as in me, and that was the real reason she was so angry and wanted to break up with him. She would be the first to point out how close Ryder and I were now. Hopefully, he would understand when I would avoid sitting with him in the cafeteria or walking with him in the hallways between classes.
It wouldn’t be easy. I had no confidence in being able to quiet my demanding heart. I would surely long for his hand, his touch, and a soft loving word. Could I avert my gaze, pay attention to anyone else’s conversations, and keep my distance, especially today, when everything about prom night had come to a loud crash for Ryder and myself at Wyndemere? Somehow I had to be measured enough in my exchanges with him to keep even the most suspicious and envious of my classmates unaware.
As usual, I heard my mother up ahead of me, preparing some breakfast. I washed, brushed my hair, and dressed. I’d wear no makeup today, not even a touch of lipstick. I wanted to be more like a nun in my appearance so I could assume that demeanor and keep the lid on my new boiling, raging desires. My mind was full of expectations. Ryder would return to my bedroom, maybe not tonight or tomorrow night, but he would return, and our kisses would be longer, his caresses more demanding, exploring, driving away my fragile virgin resistance. He’d be prepared for that. It would happen, and whatever we did in our lives, wherever we were, even if we were with someone else, we would never be able to forget those loving, erotic moments.
Of course, I could not say that for him it would be a first as well. Whenever I fantasized about making love for the first time and imagined the boy doing it for the first time, I envisioned us both fumbling and stumbling, like two people blindly walking on the deck of a rocking boat on the darkest night. When some of my more revealing girlfriends described their first times, a few made it sound so terrible that they were seriously considering abstinence until marriage. For them, it had been painful and unsatisfying. The boy had his orgasm, his initiation, but they hadn’t come close.
“I don’t fancy myself being someone’s training ground,” I told them, which made them widen their eyes.
“Fancy?” Carla Sheldon said. “What’s that mean?”
“Don’t forget her mother’s English,” Kim Green reminded everyone. “English people always fancy this or fancy that.”
I had grown so accustomed to my mother’s expressions that I didn’t think twice about repeating them, but I was always sensitive to any allusions to my mother, for fear that the next statement would pave the way for a comment about her getting pregnant with me and my never knowing who my father was.
All this played in my mind in a twisted ball of rubber-band thoughts entangling with each other. My mother immediately saw how distracted I was, but she blamed it entirely on my fear of what awaited me at school regarding the infamous second shoe. There would be more collateral damage. Others who were in the vicinity of the illegal activity or tied to it would suffer anything from relatively minor reprimands to suspension from school. Families would be tainted. There would be an avalanche of rage in our community, perhaps aimed not solely at the ones who brought it about but also at those who revealed it.
Paul was obviously at the top of that list. Other students who took the drug would complain about him. Why didn’t he just wait until it had worn off or sought the help of someone who would have covered up for him? They wouldn’t believe his health was in such danger. His extreme reaction was so rare. Everything could have been avoided. I couldn’t believe that I was actually feeling a bit sorry for him, but I was.
Another thought popped into my head. Maybe they would spread the rumor that Dr. Davenport, embarrassed that his son, Ryder, was in some way tied to all this, exaggerated Paul’s health issues and blew them up far more than necessary. And by cooperating with the police and the school administration, all Ryder Davenport and Fern Corey did was enable this terrible blot on our community to happen. How could I not be distracted and afraid?
“Whatever happens to other students because of all this is not your fault, Fern. You must not act as though you have done something wrong,” my mother said, pouring my juice. “You go to school just like you always have, and you do your work and ignore any nasty remarks, just the way I told you yesterday.
“If the dean calls you to his office to talk about any of this because of something new they’ve learned, you are to ask him or his secretary to call me immediately, and you are to say nothing more. I know that makes you look guilty to other people, but things said are often twisted or exaggerated.”
She sat with her coffee. She had made me a soft-boiled egg and toast.
“I haven’t lied about any of it,” I said.
She nodded. “I know. I believe you.”
She sat there, watching me eat.
“Last night, Dr. Davenport asked to see me,” she revealed after a long and obviously thoughtful silence, during which she had debated whether to tell me.
“How?” I asked, probably too quickly. Had he come to our part of the house?
“How? The usual way, through the intercom.”
“What time was this?”
“Not long after you had gone to sleep,” she said.
My mind spun with a myriad of frightening questions. On her way to Dr. Davenport’s office, had she seen Ryder go into my room but kept it to herself? Did Dr. Davenport anticipate all this? Was that why he had called her to his office? Did he threaten her? Was Bea present? Afterward, did she come to my door to signal to Ryder that he should leave?
There was more than one second shoe dropping today. There were three, maybe four.
“Why?” I asked, in a voice so low that I wasn’t sure I had said it out loud. “I had no idea you went there.”
“I didn’t stay in the office long,” she said. “He simply wanted to tell me what I’m telling you now. He’s concerned that no one hold you and, for that matter, Ryder to blame. He said police and prosecutors are often overly anxious when it comes to prosecuting a case and winning accolades. It’s why, he says, we all need attorneys most of the time. He has one of his standing by in case we need him, and he said he would pay any expenses. I was not to worry. That’s very kind of him, don’t you think?”
I released my trapped hot breath. “Yes.”
“Perhaps, then, you were a little too quick in your condemnation of him. As I’ve said, let things settle.”
“If they ever will,” I said, and nibbled on my eggs and toast.
“They will.” She smiled. “Remember what I told you about blowing things out of proportion. Now, I will be available all day should you need me, but you’ll have to have your dinner alone tonight. Don’t worry. Mrs. Marlene is sending over a nice plate of her special lasagna. She’s serving that to the Davenports.”
“But why? Where will you be?”
She smiled. “Not long after you and I had our walk last night, Dr. Bliskin called. He’s invited me to dinner. I haven’t been to a restaurant in so long that I practically had forgotten they existed. I almost panicked and refused. That would have been silly, of course. He’s come so far.”
“Is his wife with him?”
“No. He’s on that medical convention trip, remember? He’ll be stopping by here tomorrow night. Dr. Davenport has invited him to dinner. You know Bea Davenport would never approve of my being at the table, so tonight’s my best opportunity to spend some time with him, catching up.”
“Catching up?”
“Yes. He was very fond of us, and I was very fond of him.”
Fond? What did that mean? I wondered.
She finished her coffee and stood. “Eat your breakfast, Fern. You need to be strong today.”
I nodded and ate what I could. After I finished getting ready for school, I looked in at her. She was standing before her full-length mirror in her bedroom, toying with her hair. I saw she had a few dresses out on her bed. It had been a long time since I had seen her so concerned about how she would look. She became aware that I was standing in her doorway.
“Oh. I have a lot to do today,” she said quickly. “I thought I would decide what to wear tonight now and get that worry out of the way.”
“It’s a worry?”
“You know what I mean,” she said, smiling. I nodded and started to turn away. “Wait,” she called.
I turned back, and she held up two of her best dresses.
“Which one doesn’t look terribly out of fashion?”
The one on her right, a unique shade of ruby, was always the dress that I thought complemented her complexion and brought out the colors in her eyes and hair the best. It had a deep scoop neck and sheer beaded sleeves. The waist was tightly encased in heavy-duty beaded chiffon. When I was much younger and had seen her wearing it, I had felt a little embarrassed because my mother looked so sexy. I rarely thought of her as being sexy then and especially now. It seemed so out of character for her.
For most of my life, in fact, my mother was almost asexual. She avoided makeup, did little to make her hair more attractive, and kept to clothes that deemphasized her still quite alluring figure. Somewhere it was written in her book of destiny that all that feminine energy was to be reserved for me, given to me. She had long since passed the time when that mattered to her, despite the way Mr. Stark would look at her, especially when she was unaware of it.
The ruby dress was the most expensive piece in her relatively modest wardrobe. She never told me how she had gotten it or who had bought it for her. I suspected Mr. Stark. There were times recently when I caught her putting it on just to gaze at herself in it, probably wondering if it still fit well and if she still looked pretty wearing it. If she saw me watching, she would quickly take it off, wondering aloud why she even had kept it in her closet and had not given it to some charity.
“There’s no choice to make,” I said. “The ruby, of course.”
“Yes.” She nodded and tossed the other dress onto the bed. “I thought so, too. I was just worried it might be too tight on me now.”
“Like you’ve gained any weight,” I said. “You don’t sit still for a moment.”
She nodded. “We’ll see.”
“Do you know where he’s taking you?”
“Yes. He made a reservation at Le Coeur de la Rose.”
“I never heard of that place,” I said.
“It’s an old French restaurant in Gardner, just outside of Hillsborough. I was surprised it was still there myself.”
“When did you last go there?”
“Oh, years ago.” She laughed. “I wore the same dress. Anyway, I’ll leave the telephone number and address on the table.”
“You mean you’ll be gone that early?”
“Oh. Yes. It’s actually my day off. Coincidence,” she said. “Early cocktails somewhere else first.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. It’s up to Dr. Bliskin. But you can reach me on my mobile if you need me.”
“You always forget to keep it charged,” I reminded her. “You hardly ever use it except to be more accessible to Bea, which is why I think you let the battery die.”
She laughed. “She does hate that, but today I’ll make sure. Don’t worry.” She held the ruby dress in front of her and turned back to her mirror. “Yes,” she said to her own image, as if she was looking at someone else through a window and not herself in a mirror.
I shook my head with amazement at the sudden feminine flutter of excitement in my mother. I wished I could remember more about Dr. Bliskin. Was he very handsome? Was he more concerned about us than any of his other patients? Why? Suspicions were blossoming, but I didn’t want to be thinking about that all day, not today.
I said good-bye, but I don’t think she heard me. Smiling to myself because she was behaving more like a teenage girl than I was, I walked out and around to the front and down to the school bus stop. The thin wisps of clouds promised a beautiful day. It was warmer. Summer was sending out messages of its impending arrival. Leaves were greener, bushes were blossoming, flocks of more birds were arriving, and the cool breezes rushing up from the lake were more welcomed. It was difficult to be sad or even afraid on days like this. Gloom was out of place, something to tuck in a corner and forget. Everyone on the school bus would be talking louder, with more excitement. Maybe they would stop thinking about me, I thought, which was certainly wishful thinking.
I glanced at the limousine. Parker was facing forward, waiting for Ryder and Sam. Most mornings, either he would be standing outside the vehicle with a rag to wipe away the slightest splotch of mud and would nod, wave, and say good morning to me or, if he wasn’t outside the car, he would stick his head out the window and call good morning to me. However, this morning, he looked like he was afraid even to glance at me in his rearview mirror.
I hurried along, but I did hear the sounds of the front entrance opening, some footsteps, and then the limousine doors being opened and closed. I didn’t look back. Instead, I looked anxiously for the school bus to arrive. The limousine drove off. I watched it disappear, and then I looked back at the house.
Bea Davenport was still there, standing at the entrance and gazing at me. Even from this distance, I could see the look of satisfaction splashed like a broken egg yolk all over her face. I turned away quickly, and when the school bus approached, I practically lunged for the steps, lowered my eyes, and found an empty seat, the seat Ryder and I had sat in the day before, actually. That was some comfort. I looked at no one and didn’t have a single conversation.
When we arrived at school and entered the building, two of my classmates, Carol Sue Fisher and Cindy Stevens, were waiting for me like hawks swooping down on a mouse. I didn’t see Ryder.
“Did you hear?” Cindy asked first. Before I could ask, Hear what? she said, “Paul Gabriel has transferred to another school.”
“A private school,” Carol Sue added. “That’ll cost his parents lots of money.”
“But he probably can play baseball there,” Cindy said.
“I’m happy for him,” I said. “I don’t want him to ruin his life.”
“But no one knows what Barry will do. He was arrested, and he’s been expelled. He can’t go to school here, no matter what,” Carol Sue said.
“And we don’t know for sure yet, but everyone’s saying Russel Jones was arrested last night. He was selling drugs with Barry.”
“He’ll probably be expelled, too!” Carol Sue said. “Shane is also in trouble with the police, besides his parents, but we don’t know how much yet.”
“Are you and Ryder and Alison all right?” Cindy asked.
I started walking toward my homeroom, a little dazed. I hadn’t even had a chance to take a breath. They followed me, repeating questions. I looked for Ryder, but he was nowhere in sight. Good thing, too, I thought.
“So?” Carol pursued when we reached the classroom door. “How are you?”
I turned to them and smiled. “I feel fine,” I said. “Just a little tired. That math homework was just too much, don’t you think?”
They both looked at me, stunned. Maybe they thought I had gone crazy. I was smiling like someone who had won the lottery.
“But I got it done,” I said, and walked into homeroom. Both of them remained behind, as if I had turned them to stone.
The chatter in homeroom and throughout the school all morning was about Paul, Barry, and some others who were in very serious trouble. I fielded questions constantly and relied solely on the statement “I was told not to talk about any of it. Sorry.” Disappointment quickly became anger. Why couldn’t I talk now? Was there someone else being investigated? Did I or Ryder turn someone else’s name over to the police?
I didn’t see Ryder until lunch hour. Either he was embarrassed by his show of affection last night, he was embarrassed that he had revealed how angry and hurt he was, or he had thought of the same things I had this morning and cleverly avoided talking to me so our newly blossomed relationship wouldn’t get back to Bea and his father. He sat with some of his classmates and only gave me a glance or two.
Alison was with other girls in her class, but she was also exchanging remarks with John Shepherd, another senior who was on the baseball team with Ryder. I could see she was flirting with him, and before the lunch hour ended, she rose and sat beside him at his table. When the bell rang, they went out together. I looked at Ryder to see his reaction, and this time, he looked at me and smiled. Guiltily, I checked to see who was noticing, but no one seemed to care. Maybe I was being too careful.
As we all left, he walked up to me and whispered, “Go to the bathroom ten minutes into your last-period class.”
Before I could respond, he walked off with his friends. I wasn’t surprised that Ryder had won most, if not all, of them back. Someone as popular as he was would have an easier time getting his classmates to see his side of the story. That pleased me. The more forgiven he was, the more I should be. Nevertheless, I was very nervous when I asked to go to the bathroom exactly ten minutes into my last-period class. I felt like everything I did and said aroused new suspicions in both my teachers and my classmates.
Ryder was waiting for me near the girls’ room. Without speaking, he led me toward the stairway for the second floor and hovered between it and the wall.
“I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you more. How are you doing?” he asked.
“Okay. I was sorry to hear about Paul, of course, but not so much about Barry.”
“It seems he’s involved with someone from the community college who’s selling X and harder drugs to classmates. It’s pretty serious, but don’t you worry about it. You don’t know anything more. Listen . . . about last night.”
“I’m not sorry,” I said quickly.
He smiled. “Me, neither, but for now . . .”
“I understand.”
“Except,” he said, “if I’m confined to Wyndemere on the weekend and it’s nice, why don’t we go for a row on the lake? Bea will be occupied with one of her social clubs, and I know my father works this Saturday.”
“Sure.”
“I’m staying for baseball practice now, and we have a game away on Thursday, so I won’t see you at the end of the day. I’ll call tonight.”
“Call whenever you can. My mother’s going on a dinner date with a doctor who took care of us years and years ago, Dr. Bliskin.”
“Really?” He thought a moment and nodded. “I remember him, but I remember him married with triplets or something.”
“Yes, that’s the one. He’s just in the area for a conference, but he’s coming to dinner with you and your father and Bea tomorrow night.”
“Is he? I guess I have to go to you to learn about my own life and what’s happening next in Wyndemere,” he said. He looked around and then kissed me quickly. We heard footsteps. “Go,” he said, and I hurried away and back to my class. My feet felt like they were winged.
Just that little conversation with him made me feel so much better. I had no trouble talking to other students on the bus ride home. When I arrived at Wyndemere, my mother was gone, just as she had said she would be. I went right to my homework. Just before Mrs. Marlene arrived with my dinner, my mother called to see how things were. I told her about Paul, Barry, and the other boy and how no one had called me in for any more questioning.
“I’m sure they have enough now without you. Or Ryder, for that matter. Dr. Davenport’s influence is important.”
“Where are you?”
“We’re on our way to the restaurant,” she said. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll look in on you when I get home. Oh, and Dr. Bliskin will stop in before he attends the Davenports’ dinner tomorrow. He’s looking forward to seeing you.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to blurt out, Why? Is he my father? I didn’t, of course. Mrs. Marlene was calling for me.
“Eat it while it’s hot,” she told me. She looked about. “Why haven’t you set your table?”
“I lost track of time,” I said, and hurried to do it. She stood there watching me. I knew that by now, my mother had told her everything that had happened.
“I’m sorry your special night was ruined, Fern,” she said. “Just remember that every tide has its ebb. I’m sure it will all turn out well, especially if Dr. Davenport’s taken some interest.”
I sat. “I’m fine,” I said. Then I looked at her sharply. “You know my mother went to dinner with the doctor who took care of both Ryder and me years ago.”
“Yes. A very nice man,” she said. “I’m making dinner for him tomorrow night. It’ll be one of his favorite recipes, too, osso buco.”
“How did you know what was his favorite?”
“Oh, your mother told me,” she said. “She knows all the important details about everyone who comes in and out of Wyndemere. Enjoy, and let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Marlene,” I called as she started away.
She cast one of her bright, motherly smiles my way and left.
While I was eating, Mr. Stark stopped by. I was surprised my mother hadn’t told him she was going out to dinner.
“Oh, Dr. Bliskin,” he said, nodding. “I didn’t know he was back here.”
“For a medical conference. He’ll be at dinner here tomorrow night. Did you know him well?”
“Oh, sure. Fine doctor. Cathy always liked him. Where’d they go?”
I told him, and he nodded again.
He looked lost in thought and suddenly realized it. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”
“As you should be. You call if you need anything,” he said. I had the feeling he was disappointed in hearing about my mother’s dinner date. He nodded, smiled, and left.
Between Mrs. Marlene and him, I had a set of surrogate grandparents, I thought. They were probably better than any of the actual ones my friends had.
I cleaned up the kitchen and returned to my homework. None of the girls who usually would call me at night to deliver some new gossip called. Most were probably mad at me for not confiding solely in them so they’d know something ahead of the others. So many acted as if their friendship was a special gift for me. I should show more gratitude, kiss their feet.
As the night grew later, I listened more keenly for my mother’s return. Ryder called after he had gone to his room. He told me the dining room had been more like a funeral parlor, but he hadn’t given in and apologized to Bea. In fact, he had avoided looking at her.
“Maybe you’re only tossing more wood on the fire, Ryder. Can’t you pretend a little?”
“Not when it comes to her. Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive. How about you?”
“My mother’s not home yet,” I said. I wondered if he knew anything, if he had overheard Bea say something or ask something of his father, or if he had overheard some gossip in the house. “How much catching up do she and Dr. Bliskin need to do?” I asked, fishing to see if Dr. Davenport had mentioned him at dinner and said something I should know.
“It’s been a long time, I guess. I’m happy she’s enjoying a night out. She works very hard here, chasing after Bea’s stupid requests.” If he knew something, he was obviously not going to say.
“Are we really going rowing this Saturday?”
“Absolutely, rain or shine,” he said. “I’m kissing you good night. Feel it?”
“Yes,” I said, laughing.
“It’s a new app on my phone called Kiss and Tell.”
“Ha ha.”
“Night, Fern. Sweet dreams,” he said.
After we hung up, I lay back and stared up at the ceiling. Above me and a few thousand feet or so to my right, he was lying in his bed. One night, I thought, I would sneak through the house and float up those stairs. I would very quietly enter his bedroom. He’d be asleep, and I’d slip so softly in beside him that he wouldn’t wake up.
And I wouldn’t wake him, either. After a while, I’d slip out and float back down the stairs, walking in the shadows, and then hurrying through the hall to crawl back into my own bed.
I’d be like one of the Wyndemere ghosts. The next day, when I told him I had lain beside him for twenty or so minutes in his own bed, he’d not believe it.
I thought it was a dream, he’d say. And then I found a strand of your hair and inhaled the pillow beside me. It was your shampoo, for sure. I thought I was going mad.
But we are, I would say. Mad for each other.
The dream scenario was so pleasing I could put out my lights and turn on my side to hug the pillow and welcome my new fantasy.
I never heard my mother come home.
But when I saw her in the morning, rushing past my bedroom door to get breakfast started, she was still wearing the ruby dress. I didn’t let her know I had seen her.
My body trembled.
Something that rarely happened was happening.
One of the great secrets of Wyndemere was unfolding right before my eyes.
Finally, perhaps, it had decided it was time to emerge from the shadows.