Chapter Thirteen
In the back of my mind, I was hearing Kyle say he would wait until I was eighteen. I went to sleep that night with expectations. And fears. Would he be more aggressive; would I be more receptive? Sometimes the hardest person to know was yourself.
What if it was not the most wonderful thing in the world?
Every girl surely went through this ambivalence.
I knew there were some girls in my class who knew the answers.
What Kyle described as my beautiful innocence seemed more like a disadvantage to me.
The first time you gave yourself to someone should be something special; it shouldn’t be simply passion and the loss of control.
It should be something you did willingly, but somehow planning it took away the mystery and romance.
It was just another thing to do on your march to adulthood.
I didn’t like that thought. So much of my life was not in my control; this was one thing that should be.
When I was fifteen, I heard two of my classmates, girls, whispering about me. I was around the corner and stopped when I heard my name. I recognized Caroline Lee when she said, “I doubt Jamie would try to make love to her. She might die on the bed.”
They laughed. I waited until they walked away. But the thought never left me.
I stayed awake as long as I could on my birthday night, but Kyle never came. He was out working as usual early in the morning. I walked down to him to be sure he saw me leaving.
“I’m going to school today,” I told him. “They’re going over the finals, what to do, et cetera.”
“Sure. I’ll be here today. Making progress,” he said, looking at his work.
It was like he had forgotten all about me. That’s just the way real artists are when they’re into their work, I thought. They can see nothing but their work. I’m like that. I can’t blame him.
“See you later,” I said, and headed for my car. He didn’t say anything more. When I looked back, he was studying his last stroke. Men are so complicated, I thought. Then I laughed at myself. Like I really knew anything about men.
More of my classmates spoke to me. I could see they felt less frightened of what would happen if we had a disagreement.
When I thought about it deeply, I really couldn’t blame them for how they were.
Surely their parents had warned them not to do anything that might cause me to have a seizure or something.
I tried to be as energetic and active as I could be now.
The only things that slowed me down were questions about Jamie.
All I could say was he was living one of his dreams.
Gossip had spread, of course. There were questions about Kyle. I referred only to my grandfather hiring him. Mr. Angelo asked me about him. He knew who he was and was excited about it.
“I’ll visit the gallery in Bar Harbor,” he said. “Interesting man, I bet.”
“Yes,” I said.
I was afraid to say anything more. I still had this guilt about Jamie.
The more he heard about me and Kyle, the more hurt he would be.
Maybe I was just infatuated with Kyle. But when the school day ended, I couldn’t be anything but eager to see him.
How would he act toward me? There was something exciting about not knowing.
Jamie and I knew the ins and outs of each other.
I never thought of that as anything but good.
Maybe that made our relationship too simple. Was I being ungrateful even just thinking such a thing? How I envied girls my age who had mothers or older sisters they could trust to get advice from.
I drove slowly up to the Crest. It was a warmer afternoon, with clouds like dollops of whipped cream across the blue.
I had never felt so alive and free, knowing that I would soon graduate from high school and step into the adult world with a clear path to pursuing my dreams. There was no dark cloud hovering over me, not anymore.
It wasn’t just driving up the hill; it was like driving into the sky.
Oh, how I wished Mommy was with me. I could imagine her in the passenger’s seat, her hair dancing in the wind.
She’d be smiling with such pride when she saw my work now, how much more sophisticated it had become, how every stroke of my brush was well-thought-out, and how I spent more time on colors.
When I pulled up to the Crest, my first thought was to go to Kyle to see his progress and, truthfully, see how he would greet me.
I hurried to get out of the car and go around the house, but he wasn’t there.
I had been thinking so hard about him that I hadn’t noticed Dr. Bush’s car parked in front.
My first thought, of course, was that Dr. Knox had found something new about me in one of my tests and I wasn’t as healthy now as I had been told.
With trepidation, I hurried to the front door.
The stillness inside frightened me more.
“Anna!” I cried.
Kyle came hurrying from the kitchen.
“What’s happening?” I asked before he could speak. “Why are you in here and not working?”
“We didn’t want to alarm you. About an hour ago, your father followed your grandfather here to continue an argument, and your grandfather had a seizure of some sort. Dr. Bush is in his room with him.”
“Where’s my father?”
“He ran out twenty minutes ago. I think he was afraid Anna might attack him with a kitchen knife.”
“She should have,” I said, and headed for Grandfather’s room.
Dr. Bush was sitting at his bedside, taking his blood pressure.
Grandfather’s room was twice the size of any other bedroom.
It was the size of some Birdlane homes. On one side, he still kept all of Grandmother’s things: her favorite pictures and paintings, vases, and small statues of Greek characters and lovers.
They had picked up so many things during their travels.
Their bed was a customized extra-king, with her side completely undisturbed as if he expected her to arrive at any moment. Grandfather told me he wouldn’t get rid of her things and satisfy death. “She’ll never be dead to me,” he said. I thought that was so sweet and romantic.
Suddenly, as if she had been hiding in a closet, Aunt Frances appeared in the doorway. She was in her nurse’s uniform.
“Melville called and said I might be needed. I was just returning from an assignment on the coast and had the boat turn into Birdlane. Hand it to Melville, he can reach me whenever he feels like it,” she said, and smirked.
“I don’t need her,” Grandfather told Dr. Bush.
“There’s not much to do here, Frances. He just needs some rest and to take his pills.”
“I’ll be sure he does,” I said quickly. “And Anna will help.”
“Of course.”
“Maybe you should get your money back on my nurse training, Daddy,” Aunt Frances said. She turned to walk out, then paused and said, “I’m getting something to eat before I leave.”
“Oh, I’ll make you a sandwich,” Anna said.
“I don’t need a hired maid to make me a sandwich,” she said, and left.
“Maybe you should have given her something to do, Charles,” Dr. Bush said.
Grandfather sighed. “I saw how she helped Harriet. She’s better with strangers.”
“Okay.” He stood. “Just mind what I told you… good bed rest.”
“I’ll be fine,” Grandfather insisted.
Dr. Bush looked at me and started out.
“Better behave, Grandpa,” I said.
He laughed and closed his eyes.
Kyle was waiting for me in the den. He was pacing and looked up when I entered.
“I thought the house was going to explode, so I ran in. I might have been a little aggressive with your father when I pulled him away from your grandfather.”
“You might have saved his life. They both have fiery tempers. What did you do with your painting?”
“Put it in a safe place. Who knew what your father would do?”
I turned and looked at the ocean. I had been so high and was now so low.
I could feel Kyle move closer to me. He put his hand on my arm and stroked it gently.
When I looked at him, I saw how intense his eyes were.
Mommy once told me that all your secrets were in your eyes.
You could close them, but you couldn’t wipe away what they said.
Your eyes would always betray what you really felt.
“But it isn’t that simple,” she’d gone on to say.
“Sometimes we see what we want to see and ignore what eyes are really telling us, especially when it comes to love.”
“This shouldn’t be happening to you now.
These nights should be the best, the happiest of your life,” Kyle said.
“You just turned eighteen, you’re graduating from high school, and you had the most successful and important heart operation.
There should be celebrations, not nasty arguments threatening your grandfather’s health. ”
“I know. I’m so sorry you were brought into this.”
“I never go unless I want to,” he said. “Besides, I’ve planned for it, planned for this night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I rented this inboard down at the harbor and looked into being served a lobster dinner with all the fixings—and cake, of course. We’d just take a short ride to the cove and enjoy the evening.
I saw what your favorite music is and have that arranged.
Tomorrow I return to Bar Harbor, so this is the only night this week I can do it.
What do you think? I know it’s hard with all this commotion, but… ”
“How soon do I have to be ready?” I asked.
He laughed. “Nothing fancy. I didn’t bring anything fancy. It’s just the two of us.” He looked at his watch. “How’s twenty minutes?”
“Perfect,” I said, and headed for my room, his laughter trailing behind me. I was sure he was surprised at how little it took to convince me.