Then suddenly I was lost on back country roads. I pulled into a run-down station with two gas tanks and asked the red-faced, skinny little man there for directions. He stared at me as if he thought me crazy to be so dressed up on a sizzling hot day like this. I wore a lightweight summer suit, and I was hot, you bet, but I wasn't going to show up in just an ordinary summer dress. My hands wore too many rings, and my neck was heavy from too many necklaces. I was going to impress somebody, even if they thought me foolish. My car was the most expensive one I could rent.
I had to back up and turn around to find the right road that would take me to Tom and the house where Pa lived with his new family. A bit of Florida had stolen into Georgia and given the landscape a semitropical look. As I drew closer to my destination, I pulled my car to the side of the road to freshen my makeup, and ten minutes later my long, dark blue Lincoln slowed to a halt in front of a low and sprawling contemporary ranch house.
A numb kind of sensation in ray chest made me feel unreal, to have come all these miles and put myself within the reach of Pa's cruelty again. What kind of fool was I, anyway? I shook my head, glanced again in the rearview mirror to check my appearance, and then I looked again at the modern house. It was constructed of red cedar shingles. The shallow roof overhung the many wide windows to create shade. Many trees shaded the roof, and well-trimmed shrubs outlined the house, while flower beds curved outward from the shrubs to create colorful areas where not a weed grew. Oh, surely Pa was proving something to the world with this house that had to have four to five bedrooms. And not one time had Tom even hinted at just what Pa did to earn enough money to pay for such a house.
Where was Tom? Why wasn't he coming out of the door to greet me? Finally, growing impatient, I left the car and stepped along the walkway leading to the recessed door. I feared that Pa himself might be the very one who responded to my knock, despite Tom's pledge to keep us apart. But I was all right. My designer suit that had cost more than a thousand dollars was as good as a suit of armor. My costly rings and necklaces and earrings were my shield and my sword. I could slay dragons dressed as I was. Or so I thought.
Impatiently I jabbed at the door bell. Inside I heard chimes play a few notes. My heart thudded nervously. Butterflies beat small wings of panic in my stomach. Then I heard footfalls approaching. I had Tom's name on my lips when the door opened.
However, it was not Tom, as I'd hoped and prayed it would be; nor was it the dreaded appearance of Pa. Instead, a very pretty young woman with blond hair and bright blue eyes swung open the door and smiled at me as if she'd never known fear of strangers or d
islike of anyone.
She took my breath away with her air of fresh innocence as she stood behind the screen door, the cool rooms dim and shadowy and clean-smelling in the background, smiling and waiting for me to identify myself. She wore white shorts with a blue knit top, and carried easily in one arm was a young child who appeared sleepy. Oh, that had to be Drake, Pa's lookalike son . . his third son.
"Yes . . ?" she prompted when I failed to speak.
I stood there nonplused, staring at a woman and little boy whose lives I could easily destroy if I wanted.
And now that I was here, I knew from my very shock, that in a way I had not come just to save Tom; I had an ulterior motive, to ruin what happiness Pa had found. All that I could have shouted out to make her hate Pa stuck like a lump in my throat so I had difficulty even murmuring my name.
"Heaven?" she asked, looking delighted. "You are Heaven?" Her welcoming smile broadened. "You are the Heavenly that Tom is always talking about? Oh, how wonderful to finally meet you. Come in, come in!" She pulled open the screen door, then put the little boy down on the couch and self-consciously tugged down her blue top. Her eyes darted to the nearest wall mirror to check her appearance, making me realize that perhaps Tom had not told her I was due at eleven o'clock. I had not thought of this woman at all when I made my plans.
"Unfortunately an emergency arose, so Tom had to leave with his father," she explained
breathlessly, now checking to see that her house was in order. She led the way from the front foyer into a large, handsome living room. "I noticed this morning that several times Tom seemed on the verge of confiding something to me, and yet his father kept urging him to hurry, so he didn't have the time. I'm sure your visit must have been his secret."
While she talked, she tidied a stack of decorating magazines, and quickly folded the morning newspaper that she must have been reading. "Please sit down and make yourself at home, Heaven. Is there anything I can get you? I'll be preparing lunch soon for Drake and myself, and of course you must stay. But can I get you something cold now? It's such a hot day."
"A cola drink would be very nice," I admitted, my throat parched from anxiety as much as from thirst. I couldn't believe Tom hadn't waited for me. Wasn't I important to him anymore either? It seemed none of my family wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see them. Soon she was back from the kitchen with two glasses. The shy little boy, about a year old, stared at me with huge brown eyes fringed by long black lashes. Oh, yes, he was the look-alike son that Sarah had prayed to have when her fifth child had been deformed and stillborn.
Poor Sarah. Not for the first time I wondered just where Sarah was now, and what she was doing.
I slipped out of my too-warm jacket, feeling ridiculous now as I wished I'd had better sense than to be so ostentatious.
Stacie Casteel gave me one of the sweetest smiles I'd ever seen. "You are so beautiful, Heaven, exactly as Tom described you many, many times. You are lucky to have a brother who admires you so much. I always wanted brothers and sisters myself, but my parents thought one child was enough. They live about two blocks from here, so I see them often, and they make wonderful baby-sitters. In fact your grandfather is out now with my father, fishing in a nearby lake."
Grandpa. I had forgotten all about Grandpa.
She went on, as if starved for someone to talk to about her family. "Luke would like for us to move to Florida, so he could be closer to where he works, but I can't bring myself to move that far from my parents. I know they won't make any changes in their lifestyles now that they're so old and contented. They are so devoted to Drake."
She was seated now across from me, allowing her small, very handsome son a sip or two of her cold drink. He could hardly manage to swallow he was so intimidated by my silent presence. Gently she shoved him forward a bit. "Drake dear, this is your half-sister named Heaven. Isn't that an appropriate name for such a lovely young lady?"
The huge dark eyes of Pa's youngest son batted as he tried to decide if I was friendly or not, before he ducked his head and turned to try and hide himself. When he felt safe, he peeked at me from his close position near his mother's legs with his thumb stuck in his mouth. And oh, it did hurt to be reminded so much of how Keith used to act, only in the old days it had been my legs Keith had hidden behind, or beside, never Sarah's. Sarah had always been too busy and too tired to "mess with" shy children who needed special attention--until Our Jane came along.
Despite the decision I'd made not to love this particular child, I found myself kneeling so I could be on eye level with him. I found a smile. "Hi Drake. Your uncle Tom told me about you. He told me you like trains and boats and airplanes. And someday very soon I am going to send you a whole huge carton of trains, boats, and airplanes." I glanced at Stacie with some embarrassment. "The Tattertons have been toy makers for centuries. They make toys such as can't be found in ordinary toy stores, and when I go back, I'll ship Drake all he can play with."
"That would be very nice of you," she said with another of her devastating, sweet smiles that stabbed right into my heart, for I could have sent Drake many a plaything a long time ago, and not once had I thought of doing so.
As the minutes passed and she chatted on while preparing lunch, I soon found out that she loved the man I hated, loved him very much. "He is the kindest, most wonderful husband," she enthused, "always trying his very best to see that his family has everything we need." She threw me an appealing glance. "I realize, Heaven, that you might not see him that way, but your father has had a very difficult life, and to find himself, he had to get away from those hills and the Casteel heritage. He is not a slothful, lazy man. He was just a resentful one for finding himself trapped in what seemed a relentless circle of poverty."
Nothing she said indicated that she knew how much Pa had hated me, and probably still did. She didn't mention my mother or Sarah, and because she didn't I began to think of her as just another guileless and gullible Leigh Tatterton, so then it flashed through my mind that my father had a predilection for loving the same type of delicate female. Just as he favored redheads, like Sarah and Kitty, for occasional rough romps in the sack.
And if he had from time to time taken brunettes to bed, I'd yet to hear about them.
We returned to the living room after our lunch of tuna salad on a crisp bed of lettuce, with cubes of cheese, and hot rolls served with iced tea. Our dessert was chocolate pudding that Drake managed to smear all over his beautiful face.
No biscuits and gravy, I thought bitterly.