"I can change," she whined. I grunted. "I can!" she insisted.
I looked out at the sea. The waves were higher, the wind stronger.
"I'm tired," I said. "Just take me home and then take Belinda to get some of her things, Samuel."
"Aye," he said.
I glanced back at Belinda. She was gazing out the window, too. She looked like a little girl again, lost and bewildered. I tried to find a place in my heart for compassion, but all I could think of was that night in the boathouse and how she clung to Nelson Childs.
13
Belinda's Last Chance
.
After Samuel had taken me home and left with
Belinda to gather some of her clothing and bring her back, I phoned Effie to inform her of what had occurred and gave her instructions about cleaning the house. I could tell from her tone of voice that even though she was upset about Daddy, she was
particularly happy Belinda wouldn't be in her way during the next few days. She took great pride in her work and was almost as upset about what Belinda had done as I was.
As soon as I finished the phone conversation, I asked my own newly appointed maid Loretta to, make me a cup of tea. Loretta had come to me by way of a Boston agency and was, I thought, similar in character to Effie: serious, sincere and efficient. I sat by the window in my own den-office and gazed at the still very gray world. From this angle I had a small but clear view of the ocean behind the house and caught sight of a trawler making its way north.
The vessel revived memories I had as a child occasionally sitting in the gazebo at early evening with Daddy.
Belinda was always bored with just sitting, talking and looking at scenery and was usually in the house on the phone or entertaining some friends who had come over to visit with her.
"We're very lucky to be living by the sea," Daddy told me. "I can't imagine what life is like stuck in some city high-rise gazing out at more brick, concrete and steel. We can look out like this and see ships go by day and night and imagine ourselves traveling to some exotic ports or beautiful lands. Some day I suppose you'll do a great deal of traveling, Olivia. You're sure to see more of the world than I have."
"Why, Daddy? Why haven't you traveled more?"
"Oh, I guess I've been too involved in my businesses. Nailed myself to the floor of my office, I'm afraid. Don't be like me. Get out there. Do things. See things. Explore," he advised. "See the world. Take an ocean voyage whenever you can."
Ironically, I felt that was more of a fantasy for me now than it ever was for him. Our business was literally three or four times the size it was when he and I sat out back and gazed dreamily at passing ships. Along with the economic growth came three or four times the responsibility, and with a sister who was more a child than a woman, a husband who had limited business abilities, and now a father who was to be an invalid, my ship of adventure would remain moored to the dock for a long time to come, I thought.
Anyway, I was reminded of Ishmael telling Captain Pelig in Moby Dick that he wanted go whaling to see the world. Pelig told him to stand and look over the side of the ship and tell him what he saw. He saw nothing but water and considerable horizon. "Well then," Pelig said, "what does thou think of seeing the world?"
That was the view of the world from a ship for most of the journey a sailor made. I could see the same world from my own shore. I was really no sailor and the sea, as beautiful as it could be, held no irresistible attraction for me. Maybe my real father was a sailor as my mother had revealed, but the sea quest that was in his blood did not seep into mine. I was content enjoying an occasional sail and living here in my own world where I could be secure and had some control over my destiny.
Sitting here now, I recalled one special time alone with Daddy. We had remained outside longer than usual. The first stars had long since appeared and the sun had dipped below an azure horizon turning the ocean into a deeper silvery gray. The lights of boats miles off shore appeared. We sat quietly, neither of us having the need to say anything. Finally he declared it was time to go in. Mother had already gone up to bed and Belinda was in her room jabbering on the phone and laughing that giddy laugh that drove me mad. Daddy went to his office and sent me up to my room. I heard him come up the stairs afterward and stop at my door. He peeked in at me.
"All in bed are you?" he asked.
"Yes," I said feeling snug and content.
Nevertheless, he approached and tucked me in a little tighter before leaning over to kiss me good night. It wasn't something he did that often and I remember thinking it was a very extraordinary moment.
"You and I have had some very
grown-up talks, Olivia," he said. "I think you're going to become an adult much sooner than other girls your age. I'm happy and sad at the same time about that," he said. "You'll miss something of your childhood."
"Don't be sad, Daddy. I don't mind."
"Okay," he said smiling. "Good night, Little General."
"Good night, Daddy," I said.
There weren't all that many soft moments in my life to remember like that, but tonight, sitting here alone, thinking about Daddy half destroyed by a stroke and now incapacitated in the hospital, those memories, few and far between, returned, some only vague images, some vivid. I sat there thinking so long, I didn't realize how much time had passed. It obviously had taken Belinda quite a while to get her things together; she probably protested the whole time about having to make any choice at all.