In late March the blustery cold winter began to abate. The snow melted and hints of spring made me nostalgic for the Willies.
Tom wrote to tell me to forget the hills, and the way it used to be. "Forgive Pa, Heavenly, please do. He's different now, like another man. And his wife has given him the look-alike, dark-haired son that Ma wanted, and didn't get."
In April, for the first time, I could open a window and listen to the sound of the pounding surf without feeling nervous.
Logan had not even made an effort to contact me, and day by day he was turning into only a memory, and it hurt, really hurt when I stopped to give his indifference more than a skipping thought. I had no desire to find a new boyfriend, and I declined most of the dates offered me. Once in a while I'd go out to the movies or out to dinner with a boy, but inevitably, as soon as he learned that he couldn't get past "first base," he gave up on me. I just didn't want to set myself up to be hurt again. Later, later, I would worry about love and romance; now I was content to concentrate on my educational goals.
The one man I did see a lot of, and the one man who was replacing Logan in my heart, was the one man I was supposed to stay away from--Troy Tatterton. At least once a week, when Tony and Jillian were out, I'd sneak over and spend hours talking to him. It was such a joy to have someone to talk to, someone who really cared about me and knew the truth of who I was.
I wanted in the worst way to talk to Tony about Troy, but it was a dangerous topic that brought immediate suspicion to Tony's eyes.
"I hope to God you are heeding my warning and staying away from my brother. He'll never make any woman happy."
"Why do you say that? Don't you love him?" "Love him? Troy has always been my biggest responsibility, and the most important person in my life. But he isn't easy to understand. He has a touching vulnerability that draws women to him, as if they realize his kind of sensitivity is rare in such a handsome and talented young man. But he's not like other men, Heaven, you remember that. All his life he's been restless, searching for something that is always out of reach."
"What is it he's searching for?"
Tony gave up trying to read his morning newspaper and frowned. "Let's be done with this conversation that goes nowhere. When the time is ripe, I'll see to it that you find the right young man."
I resented his saying that. I'd find my own right young man! I resented anything he said that was critical of his brother, when I found Troy so admirable. And what woman wouldn't be delighted to have a man with so many homemaking abilities? Lucky, lucky would be the girl who married Troy Tatterton. The wonder of it all was he didn't even have a girlfriend.
One day in May, while I was dressing after gym class, and all about me girls were showering, or changing clothes as I was, and talking incessantly, a red-haired girl named Clancey poked, her head into my dressing cubicle.
"Hey, Heaven, wasn't your mother really Jillian Tatterton's daughter by her first husband? Everybody's talking about how you go around telling people she's your aunt, when all of Boston knows you can't be. It makes us wonder if the whispered rumors can't be true."
"What whispered rumors?" I asked nervously.
"Why, my mother heard Leigh VanVoreen married a Mexican bandit . . ." Mockingly she jabbed at the girl who was her best friend, who had come to join her.
The entire dressing area hushed as all the girls turned off shower water and waited for my answer. I knew then that this attack had been planned to take me by surprise. I felt cornered and trapped by their hostile silence. And they had been so friendly after my birthday party.
However, by this time I had learned a few tricks from my encounters with Tony; the best defense was to be on the offense, or to be completely and indifferently flippant.
"Yes, your mother heard right," I admitted, adjusting the bow on my white blouse before I gave everyone what I hoped was a charming and confident smile. "I was born in the middle of the Rio Grande. Just beyond the American line by a foot or so." I raised my voice deliberately, as if to buck them off my back all at the same time. "And at the age of five my father taught me to shoot grapes from his lips, and the seeds from his fingertips," and there I'd gone and used one of Tom's favorite hill-bragging boasts.
No one said a word, not a word. And in the silence, I slipped my feet into my shoes and walked out, slamming the door behind me.
Soon preparations for graduation took precedence over all other Winterhaven activities. At last, at last, I was well on my way toward college and self-respect. In the worst way I wanted Tony and Jillian to come to my graduation, to hear my name called as an honor-roll student.
Jillian frowned when she read the thick, white invitation. "Oh, you should have told me sooner, Heaven. I promised Tony I'd go with him to London that week."
Disappointment almost put tears in my eyes. Not once had she made the least effort to share my life. I turned my head to plead mutely with Tony. "I'm sorry, dear," he said with softness, "but my wife is right. You should have prepared us well in advance of the date of your graduation. I thought it was in the middle of June, not the first week of June."
"They moved the date forward," I whispered in a choked voice. "Can't you postpone your trip?"
"This is a business trip, and an important one. But trust me to make up for our negligence in more ways than just gifts."
Naturally, as I'd already found out, making money came before obligations to family. "You'll be all right," said Tony with confidence. "You are a survivor just like me, and I'll see that you have whatever you need."
I needed family, someone in the auditorium to see me accept that certificate! But I refused to plead more.
At my first opportunity after learning that Jillian and Tony would be away on one of the most important days of my life, I slipped over to the cottage beyond the maze. Troy was my consolation, my solace, and without reservations I blurted out my pain. "Most of the Winterhaven grads are expecting not only their parents, but their entire families--aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends."
By this time we were outside his cottage, both on our knees weeding his flower garden. Already we had taken care of his small vegetable plot. The work we did together reminded me of a long time ago when Granny and I had knelt side by side on the ground just like this. Only Troy had all the gardening equipment to make what we did easier, more pleasant. Our knees had soft, stain-proof pads, our hands wore gloves, and on my head Troy had put a huge straw hat so I wouldn't ruin my complexion with "too much tan."
We had grown so familiar and comfortable with each other, sometimes we hardly needed to speak, and mere thought communication made the work go twice as fast. When we were done with weeding and planting I said, "It doesn't mean I'm not terribly grateful for everything that Tony and Jillian have done for me, for I am grateful. But whenever something special happens, I feel so alone."
Troy threw me a sympathetic glance without responding.