Gates of Paradise (Casteel 4)

"We are sitting down nearly a half hour late as it is, Fanny," Mommy said.

"Oh, are ya?" She swept her hat from her head in one motion and sighed. Then she stepped forward and pulled out the gift-wrapped box that was snugly under her right arm. "Happy birthday, Annie darlire."

"Thank you, Aunt Fanny." I took it gracefully and turned to the side so I could unwrap it without disturbing the table. Daddy sat stone faced, his hands folded, his chin against them. Luke looked down at the table and shook his head. Drake wore a wide smile. Of all of us, Drake enjoyed Aunt Fanny the most. I think she knew that because she always looked his way and winked as if there was something special between them.

Her gift was rather unique and quite unexpected--a hand-carved, ivory jewelry box that played "Memories" from the musical Cats when it was opened. Mommy's eyes widened. She was impressed.

"That's beautiful, Fanny. Where did you get it?"

"Got somethin' you couldn't git in Winnerrow, Heavenly. Sent a. . . gentleman friend of mine ta New York City, specially fer ya, Annie."

"Oh thank you, Aunt Fanny."

I kissed her and she beamed.

"Luke's gift is home. Too big ta carry around. Got him his own color TV."

"Oh. That's very nice, Luke," Mommy said, but Luke only shook his head slightly. He didn't watch much television. He was a reader.

"Wish ya two had been born a few months apart," Aunt Fanny said, taking her seat at the table. "Woulda made it easier come ya birthdays." She followed that with a peal of laughter. "Well what ya all gaping at? If this is breakfast, let's eat. I ain't et since . . . early yesterday," she added, and laughed again.

Despite Aunt Fanny's wild antics at the table and loud comments now and then, we all had a wonderful time. This birthday was the most magnificent and wonderful birthday of my life. It was truly a unique day, a day filled with music and laughter and sunlight, a day that would take up pages and pages in my diary. And I couldn't wait to have Luke pose for what I would call his "Eighteenth Birthday Portrait."

Everyone made me feel like a princess. Even the servants had bought me presents. Then, another special thing happened.

Before I could take Luke for a ride in my new car and then sneak away to the gazebo, my mother called me aside and asked me to go upstairs with her. We went to her and my father's bedroom. It was an enormous room with a great king-size bed that had a hand-carved hickory-wood headboard and large hickory-wood pillars. It looked like it would take a dozen men to lift it.

Over the bed was one of the few things I knew my mother had taken from Farthinggale Manor, and because I knew it came from Farthinggale Manor, it was always something extraordinary, even magical to me. Of course, as an artist, I appreciated it as well. It was a painting of the old cabin in the Willies with two old people seated in rockers on the porch.

My mother had redecorated and redesigned the room a few times since coming to Hasbrouck House. Now she had elegant, blue satin drapes lined with gold over the windows. The wall covering was a light blue velvet cloth and the matching light blue carpet was so thick and soft, I loved walking barefoot over it.

Two of the newer and younger craftsmen at the factory had been employed to build customized dressers and closets out of the same rich hickory wood as the bed. My -mother's vanity table had been extended nearly the entire length of the right wall, which was now covered by a wall-length mirror. She took me directly to the vanity table and opened a middle drawer.

"There is something I want you to have," she declared, "now that you have turned eighteen. Of course, you will wear it only on special occasions, I'm sure, but nevertheless, I wanted to give it to you today."

She reached in and took out the long, coalblack jewelry case that I knew contained her most precious diamond necklace and matching earrings.

"Oh, Mother!" My lips gaped open at the realization of what she was about to do.

She opened the case and held it toward me. We both stared down at the sparkling diamonds. I could see that when my mother looked at them, she remembered special moments. How I wished that simply by wearing them, they would give me all the secrets of our past, plant my mother's precious memories into my mind as well, and teach me what wisdom and knowledge she had gained from her painful as well as her wonderful experiences.

"This belonged to my grandmother Jillian, who lived like a queen."

"And who wouldn't let you call her Grandmother," I whispered, remembering one of the few things she had told me about her life at Farthinggale Manor.

"No." She smiled. "She was very, very vain and wanted to hold onto her youth and beauty forever, clinging to every fabrication, to every illusion with the tenacity of a drowning woman clinging to a slab of driftwood. Beautiful jewelry and beautiful clothing were some of the things she clutched. Of course," she continued, that gentle smile still on her lips, "she had the face-lifts and the spa treatments and bought all the miracle ointments. She wore hats with wide brims whenever she was in the sun because she was afraid the sunlight would bring on wrinkles.

"Her skin did stay smooth and her complexion rich," she continued. I held my breath, for this was one of the longest descriptions of her grandmother she had related to me and I didn't want it to end. "And although she was twenty years older than Tony, those who didn't know, couldn't tell. She would spend hours and hours at her vanity table." My mother's smile widened.

She paused, lost in a memory for a moment.

"Anyway," she said, regaining her awareness, "this is something I inherited and it's something I want you to have now."

"They're so beautiful, I'd be afraid to wear them."

"You shouldn't be afraid of wearing and owning beautiful things, Annie. There was a time when I was.

I used to feel guilty having so much and remembering how poorly I and my family had lived in the Willies." Her blue eyes suddenly took on a determined look. "But I soon discovered that the rich are no worthier than the poor to inherit and enjoy the richest and most wonderful things this life has to offer.