Rain (Hudson 1)

My heart paused and then pounded. Aunt Victoria glared at me for a moment and then sat back with a wry smile written across her lips.

"Exactly what do you expect you'll get from my mother?" she asked.

"Pardon me?"

"Oh please," she said, stabbing her fury at me with cold, sharp eyes, "you're not the first person to come around here hoping to con my mother into something or other. I don't know what Megan promised you."

"First of all, I didn't come around here, as you say. I was asked to come here, and second, I have no intention of taking anything from your mother other than what she wants to give me herself. I'm not a thief. I'm not going to fill a pillowcase with the family jewels and disappear into the night, if that's what you're afraid of, and Mrs. Randolph didn't make any promises to me."

She stared quietly for a moment and then sat back. "How did you meet Megan?"

"I don't know why I have to sit here and be cross-examined like a common criminal," I said. "I don't mean to be disrespectful or rude, but if you have any questions about me, you should do as Mrs. Hudson suggested." I stood. "Call your sister and ask her. I'm tired, too. Please excuse me," I concluded, turned, and with my heart thumping so hard, I was sure she could hear it as well, walked out of the dining room.

I was shocked to see my grandmother waiting just outside the doorway. She had been listening to the conversation. She stared at me with a strange, tight smile on her lips and didn't say a word. Then she turned and walked to the stairway. I watched her go up. As I started for the steps, Aunt Victoria emerged, gazed angrily my way and went into the informal sitting room to use the telephone.

There was a phone in my room on the desk. I thought about it for a moment and then picked up the receiver and dialed Mama.

The phone only rang once. Then there was a tiny bell sound and I heard a mechanical voice declaring the phone had been disconnected. My heart sank. I had hoped to at least speak with Roy. Where were they? It hadn't taken her long to pack up and leave. Roy must have gone too, I thought. I imagined neither of them wanted to be there when Ken came around, especially if he found out what Mama had done with me and how he would never get any money out of it.

But when would they call me? When would I hear from them again? Already I missed Mama so much it broke my heart, and I needed to hear her voice more than ever.

Maybe loving each other and caring for each other was a luxury in my poor home, but it was a luxury we shared. These people were rich, but they were a family in name only, it seemed to me. I once heard it said that people could love each other without liking each other. It was as if love was something that came included with being born into a family. It was expected, part of who and what you were. Mothers and daughters, father

s and sons, everyone was expected to love everyone, but when it came right down to it, personalities were so different and there were so many resentments floating around that liking each other was a real challenge sometimes.

This family was a perfect example, I thought. There didn't seem to be much love lost between my grandmother and my Aunt Victoria. No two people seemed more different. They were barely even civil to one another.

What would my place be in all this? I felt like someone who had to tiptoe on thin ice all day and night for fear I would say the wrong thing and crack the fragile floor that held up this artificial relationship.

I sat on my luxurious bed and gazed around at my wonderful room. Most of the girls at my school would imagine they were in heaven, but I felt I had entered a different sort of cage.

There weren't bars on these windows, Beni, I thought, recalling how she used to think of the Projects, but believe me, the people who lived here and who live here now are just as trapped as we were. I hope I haven't exchanged one prison for another.

I went through my wardrobe and chose the garments I would wear to my first day at this new school. Then I got into bed and watched television on the small set in the armoire until my eyelids felt too heavy to keep open.

When I turned off the set and the lights. I lay there listening to the silence.

How different it was from my room at the Projects where Beni and I could often hear the sounds of other people either in the hallways or through the floors and ceilings. There were no sirens screaming outside, no car horns blaring. I could see the half moon peeking between two large clouds and I saw some stars. The stars did seem brighter and bigger here. Being able to see so much of the sky made me feel smaller. I imagined I looked tiny in this large bed.

There was so much here, so many reasons to be happy and content, so many weapons with which to battle depression and sadness. These walls should be tall enough to keep out unhappiness; these hallways should be resounding with laughter and the mirrors should be worn out with smiles. How lonely my grandmother must really be, I thought, locked up in her room. The gap between us was as wide as oceans, but I couldn't help believing that when she gazed at me in the distance, she saw something she missed, something she needed, something she wanted very much to have.

Just as I did.

The clocks moved their hands, their ticks like drops of rain falling on our ears, reminding us that we could wish all we wanted, but we couldn't keep tomorrow away.

12

In the Spotlight

.

The moment I woke the next morning, it felt

like my stomach had been turned into a popcorn maker. My electrified nerve endings kept exploding with little bursts of nervous energy. The sun was pouring through my window brighter than I expected. I glanced at the clock, realized I nearly had overslept, and then flew out of bed. I took a quick shower, dressed in my new black skirt and cashmere sweater set, and did the best I could with my hair with the time I had before hurrying downstairs to breakfast. When I entered the dining room, I found my orange juice already had been poured in my glass. The moment I sat, Merilyn appeared in the kitchen doorway like a figure in a cuckoo clock.

"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked without saying good morning. "Eggs, cereal, toast? We also have sweet rolls and bacon."

"Oh no, Marilyn. I couldn't eat much this morning. Just some toast and coffee."