Petals on the Wind (Dollanganger 2)

No sooner did Julian see Chris than the two of them were at it. "I don't want you sleeping under my roof!" stormed Julian. "I don't like you and I never have and never will--so get the hell out and forget you've got a sister!" Chris left to stay at a hotel, and on the sly we met once or twice before he went back to his school. Dully I went back to attend class with Julian, then the afternoon rehearsal and the evening performance. Sometimes we had the lead roles, sometimes only minor ones, and sometimes, as punishment for some sarcastic remark Julian would make to Madame Zolta, we both had to dance in the corps. Chris didn't visit New York again for three years.

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When Carrie was fifteen she came to spend her first summer with us in New York. Hesitating and frightened-looking from the long flight she'd made all alone, she ambled slowly through the bustling, noisy crowds at the airport terminal. Julian spotted her first and he cried out, then bounded forward to sweep her up in his arms. "Hi there, gorgeous sister-in-law!" he greeted, planting a hearty kiss on her cheek. "My, how much you grow to look like Cathy--first thing you know I won't even know the difference--so watch out! Are you positively sure the dancing life isn't for you?"

She was made happy and secure by his pleasure to see her again, and quickly she responded by throwing her arms about his neck. In the three years Julian and I had been married, she'd learned to love him for what he appeared to be. "Don't you dare call me Tinker- belle!" she said, laughing. It was our standing joke, for Julian thought Carrie just the right size to play a fairy--and kept telling her it still wasn't too late for her to become a dancer. If someone else had even suggested such a thing, she would have been deeply insulted, but for Julian, someone she deeply admired, she would be a fairy only by flitting around and fluttering her arms. She knew he meant "fairy" as a compliment, and not a criticism of her small size.

Then it was my turn to have Carrie in my arms. I loved her so much I was overwhelmed by the force that swept over me and made me feel I was holding a child born of my own flesh. Though there wa

s never a time I could look at Carrie and not long for Cory who should be at her side. I wondered too, if he had lived, would he too stand only four feet six inches tall? Carrie and I laughed and cried, exchanged news and then she whispered so Julian wouldn't overhear. "I don't wear a training bra anymore. I've got on a real one."

"I know," I whispered back. "The first thing I noticed was your bosom."

"Really?" She appeared delighted. "You can see them? I didn't think they showed that much."

"Well of course they show," said Julian, who shouldn't have sneaked so close to eavesdrop on this sisterly confidence. "That's the first thing my eyes go for once they get past a fabulous face. Carrie, do you realize you have a fabulous face? I just might kick out my wife and marry you."

It was a remark that didn't sit well with me. Many an argument we'd have because he cared too much for very young girls. However I was determined to let nothing spoil Carrie's vacation in New York, the first time she'd come alone, and Julian and I had mapped out a schedule so we could show her everything. At least there was one member of my family Julian would accept.

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The months flew swiftly by, and then the spring we'd waited for so long was upon us.

Julian and I were in Barcelona, enjoying our first real vacation since we'd married. Five years and three months of married life, and still there were times when Julian seemed a stranger. Madame Zolta had suggested the vacation, thinking it a good idea if we visited Spain so we could study the Flamenco style of dancing. In a hired car we drove from one town to another, loving the beautiful countryside. We liked the late evening meals, the sleepy siesta afternoons lying on the rocky shores of the Cote d'Azur--but, most of all, we loved Spanish music and dancing.

Madame Z. had mapped our tour throughout Spain, listing all the villas that charged nominal rates. She was thrifty and taught all her dancers her tricks. If one occupied one of the small cottages near a hotel, and cooked their own meals, the fee was even less. So this was where Julian and I were on the day Chris's graduation invitation arrived. It had followed us all over Spain, to catch up with us here.

My heart jumped when I spied the thick creamy envelope, knowing it contained the graduation announcement of Chris's achievement--his medical degree--at long last! It was almost as if I myself had completed college, then medical school all within seven years.

Very carefully I used a letter opener so I could put this souvenir in my scrapbook of dreams, some of which were coming true. Inside was not only the formal announcement, but also a note on which Chris had written modestly:

I am embarrassed to tell you this, but I am the top grad in a class of two hundred. Don't you dare find an excuse to keep away. You have to be there to bask in the glow of my excitement, as I bask in the radiance of your admiration I cannot possibly accept my M.D. if you aren't there to see. And you can tell Julian this when he tries to prevent your coming

The bothersome thing about this was Julian and I had signed a contract some time ago to tape a TV production of Giselle. It was set for June, but now in May they wanted us both. We were sure the television exposure would make us the stars we'd strived so long to be.

It seemed a perfect time to approach Julian with the news. We had returned to our cottage after touring old castles. As soon as our evening meal was over we sat out on the terrace sipping glasses of a red wine he was nuts about, but that gave me a headache. Only then did I dare to timidly approach going back to the States in time for Chris's May graduation. "Really, we do have the time to fly there, and be back in plenty of time to go into rehearsals for Giselle."

"Oh, come off it, Cathy!" he said impatiently. "It's a difficult role for you, and you'll be tired, and you'll need to rest up."

I objected. Two weeks was plenty of time . . . and a TV taping didn't take too long. "Please, darling, let's go. I'd be sick not to see my brother become a doctor, just as you'd be if your brother was reaching the goal he'd strived for year after year."

"Hell, no!" he flared, narrowing his dark eyes and shooting sparks my way. "I get so damned sick and tired of hearing Chris this, and Chris that, and if it isn't his name you drum in my ears, then it's Paul this and that! You are not going!"

I pleaded with him to be reasonable. "He's my only brother, his graduation day is as important to me as it is to him You can't understand how much this means not only to him, but to me as well! You think he and I lived lives of luxury compared to yours, but you can rest assured, it was no picnic!"

"Your past is something you don't talk about to me," he snapped. "It's exactly as if you were born the day you found your precious Dr. Paul! Cathy, you are my wife now, and your place is with me. Your Paul has Carrie, and they'll be there, so your brother won't lack applause when he gets that damned M.D.!"

"You can't tell me what I can do and what I can't do! I'm your wife, not your slave!"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he said, standing and seizing hold of my arm. "C'mon, let's hit the sack. I'm tired." Without speaking I allowed him to tug me into the bedroom where I began to undress. But he came over to help, and in this way I was informed it was to be a night of love, or rather sex. I shoved his hands away. Scowling, he put them back on my shoulders and leaned to nibble on my neck; he fondled my breasts before he reached to unhook my bra. I slapped his hands away, screamed no! But he persisted in taking off my bra. Easy as a mask to take off, he threw away his anger and put on his dreamy-eyed romantic look.

There had been a time when Julian had appeared to me the epitome of everything

sophisticated, worldly, elegant, but compared to the way he was now, since his father's death, he'd been only a country-bumpkin. There were times I actually detested him. This was such a time. "I am going, Julian. You may come with me, or you may meet me in New York after I fly back from the graduation ceremony. Or you can stay on here and sulk. Whatever--I am going. I want you to come with me and share in the family celebration, for you never share in anything--you hold me back, so I don't share either--but this time you can't stop me! It's too important!"

Quietly he listened and he smiled in a way that sent chills down my spine. Oh, how wicked he could look. "Hear this, beloved wife, when you married me, I became your ruler, and by my side you will stay until I kick you out. And I'm not yet ready to do that. You are not leaving me alone in Spain when I don't speak Spanish. Maybe you can learn from records, but I can't."

"Don't threaten me, Julian," I said coolly, though I backed off and felt a terrible pounding of panic. "Without me you don't have anyone who cares, except your mother, and since you don't care for her, who have you got left?"