"Mrs. Greene knew if she didn't permit me to see my grandmother, she would have a bigger fight on her hands with me than she would have with you," I said.
"Oh, so you pushed your way in there just as you've done now, is that it? You think I'm going to tolerate this sort of behavior? You think just because my son is in the hospital that I won't call Sara and tell her to throw you out on the street? Don't you know that it's only because of my generosity that I permit you to live here? By all rights you should be in some foster home until they find a family strong enough to stomach you," she spit back at me.
"I'm not going to be intimidated by your threats this time, Grandma Olivia. If you threw me out on the streets, I would just go down to the Provincetown newspapers and tell them about this family and its dark secrets."
She laughed.
"Do you think anyone in Provincetown would do anything to upset me?" she challenged. "You don't know how ridiculous you sound. Now do as I say and--"
"Grandma Belinda told me the truth about my mother's birth," I blurted. I didn't add that she had babbled it in what sounded like insane rambling. "She told me she was kept shut up in the house, not even provided with proper medical care, in the hope that she would lose the baby. She told me how you made her deliver her own baby."
"What? That is such a preposterous story, I don't think it requires a response."
"And then she told me who the father was, my mother's father, my grandfather," I added.
Grandma Olivia seemed to sink a little in her bed. She leaned back against the pillows, her ashen face almost transparent now. Then she brought the corners of her mouth up and into her cheeks, thinning her lips so they looked like strings of pale pink wool strained to the point of tearing.
"Which one of her many, many lovers did she call the father of her baby? This time," she added.
"She said it was Judge Childs."
Grandma Olivia's lips trembled and then broke into another, very forced, hard smile.
"Oh she's gone back to that story, has she? Last year it was Samuel, you know. And before that, it was Martin Donnally, a policeman who died two years ago. Once it was Sanford Jackson, Teddy Jackson's father. I told you not to go up to see her anymore. I knew she was going to tell you with one ludicrous story after another. She was always a liar, always fantasizing about this or that man. Belinda never had more than one foot in reality and most of the time, not even a toe. She was always doing terrible things and then making up stories. In her deranged mind, she thought the wealthiest, most handsome men in Provincetown were going to rush off and marry her. Nothing was further from the truth.
"She was crazy even before she began drinking and sleeping around. All that just put her over the top, and after she gave birth, she went completely mad. Why, if I hadn't had the judge's help at the time--" "The judge's help?"
"Yes. That's why she's making up this story now. It was Judge Childs who came to my aid and helped me place her in the home where she was treated well and where she has lived comfortably in her madness up until now. I needed his political influence. You can imagine the waiting list for that place. That's why she accuses him of such a thing."
She wagged her head and then nodded.
"Belinda's getting worse. I didn't know how bad things were until very recently and that's why I left orders for her not to have visitors. Satisfied? Now that you know all the nitty gritty dirt I've been trying to keep swept out of sight?"
She leaned forward, strengthened by the venom of her lies. For I could tell, she was lying.
"We are one of the most respected and well known of the original families here," she continued. "Reputation is as important as money in the bank. Despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Belinda and your mother, I was able to protect my family. Now, after we've been overly generous and permitted you to live amongst us, given you opportunities, you continue to threaten our peace and well being. How dare you come here with your accusations? I shut my sister up pregnant? I didn't give her medical assistance? What do you think I'm doing now?"
"But, that's what she told me," I said,
weakening.
She laughed again and shook her head.
"So you will go around and tell people what a deranged, mentally ill woman who has been institutionalized for years and years said? This is why you come running here? This is how you threaten me?
"Please," she said, wagging her head and waving her hand as if she were chasing away flies, "go home and try to be of some assistance to my son's wife during this trying time. If you can't, well, we'll see about making some other arrangements for you," she said, but not as a threat,
more like a logical conclusion.
I stepped back. Was I wrong? Was Grandma Belinda just fantasizing? Oh, why couldn't the truth be as plain as day? Why was everything to do with this family so cloudy and confused? Was it like that in all families?
Grandma Olivia leaned back and moaned. "You've made my head pound again. Please, send
Loretta up immediately. I need her to get me more of my medicine," she said in a thin, breathless voice. "Where is it? I'll get it," I offered.
"I'd rather do without it and suffer," she retorted. "Just send Loretta up on your way out." She thought a moment and sat forward again. "How did you get here?"
"A friend brought me."