Seeds of Yesterday (Dollanganger 4)

The next Monday Chris drove off again, heading back to the job he now loved just as much as he'd loved being a practicing physician. I stood staring after his car, feeling my rival was his blossoming love affair with biochemistry.

The dinner table seemed lonely without Chris or Cindy there, and Toni was upstairs putting the twins to bed, a fact that annoyed Bart greatly. He said several things to Jory about Toni, meant to imply she was already madly in love with him This information didn't affect Jory one way or another; he was too deep in his own thoughts. He didn't say two words during the entire meal, even when eventually Toni did join us.

Another Friday evening came, and with it Chris returned, as once Daddy had come home every Friday. Somehow or other I was disturbed by the similarities of our lives compared to our parents' lives. Saturday we spent most of the day in the pool with Jory and the twins, with Toni and I supporting the babies as Chris helped Jory, who really didn't need much help. He took off across the water, expertly swimming, his strong arms more than making up for his legs that trailed limply behind. In the pool, with his legs under the water, he appeared so much himself that it showed on his happy face.

"Hey, this is great! Let's not move away from here yet. There aren't many houses in Charlottesville with pools like this. And I need the wide hallways and the elevator. And I've grown accustomed to Bart, and even to Joel."

"I might not be coming next weekend." Chris didn't meet my eyes as he gave out this startling information at our Sunday breakfast table. He went on, steadfastly refusing to look my way or meet anyone's eyes. "There's a convention of biochemists in Chicago and I'd like to fly there. I'll be gone two weeks. If you want to join me, Cathy, I'd be grateful."

Bart keened his ears my way, digging his spoon into his ripe melon. His dark eyes held a quiet, waiting look, as if his entire life depended upon my answer. I wanted to go with Chris. In the worst way I wanted to escape this house, its problems, and to be alone with the man I loved. I wanted to be near him, but I had to deny him and make this last-ditch effort to save Bart. "I'd like very much to go with you, Chris. But Jory is embarrassed to ask Toni to do some intimate things for him. He needs me here."

"For Christ's sake! That's why we hired her! She's a nurse!"

"Chris, not under my roof do you take the Lord's name in vain."

Glaring at Bart for saying this, Chris rose to his feet. "I've suddenly lost my appetite. I'll eat breakfast in town, if I can regain an appetite for anything again."

He glared at me accusingly, flashed angry eyes at Bart, put his hand briefly on Jory's shoulder, and then he was off.

It was a good thing I'd asked him to find a nurse before this happened. Now he'd more than likely close his ears to what I wanted to do for my two sons who were, in one way or another, driving a wedge between us. Yet I couldn't leave Jory when I wasn't really sure Toni would take good care of him, not yet.

Toni joined us at our luncheon table wearing a fresh white uniform. The three of us at the table talked of the weather and of other mundane things while she sat with her eyes fixed on Bart. Beautiful soft, luminous, gray eyes filled with awe--a

nd infatuation. It was so obvious I wanted to warn her to look at Jory, to see him and not the man who was most likely to destroy her.

Sensing her admiration, Bart turned on his charm, laughing and telling her some silly stories that mocked the little boy he'd been. Each word he said entranced her more, as Jory sat unnoticed in his detested chair, pretending to read the morning newspaper.

Day by day I could see Toni's infatuation with Bart growing, even as she kindly tended to the twins and patiently did what she could for Jory. My firstborn son stayed in a sullen mood, waiting constantly for telephone calls from Melodie, waiting for letters that didn't come, waiting for someone to help with things he used to do for himself and no longer could. I sensed his impatience when it took the servants so long to make up his bed, to tidy his rooms, to get out of his way and leave him alone.

He drove himself relentlessly, hired an art instructor to come three times a week and teach him different techniques. Work, work, work . . . he was driving himself to become the best artist possible, as once he'd dedicated himself to practicing his ballet exercises morning, night and noon.

The four Ds of the ballet world never died in some of us. Drive, Dedication, Desire, Determination.

"Do you think Toni is an adequate nursemaid for the twins?" I asked one evening as she took off down the road, pushing the twins in a double stroller. They loved being outdoors. Just to see the stroller brought squeals of pleasure and excitement. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than both Jory and I saw Bart racing to catch up with the nurse. Then the two of them were pushing Jory's children.

Uneasily I waited for Jory to speak. He said nothing. I glanced to see his bitter expression as he stared after Bart, now taking charge of his children, and the nurse I'd hired for him. It was as if I could read his thoughts. He didn't stand a chance with any woman now that he was in that chair. Now that his legs didn't dance, or even walk. Yet his doctors had told Chris and me that many handicapped men married and lived more or less normal lives. The percentages for marriage were much higher for disabled men than for handicapped women. "Women have more compassion than men. Most normal men think more of their own .needs. It takes an

exceptionally compassionate and understanding man to marry a woman who isn't physically normal."

"Jory, do you still miss Melodie?"

He stared gloomily before him, deliberately turning his eyes away from Toni and Bart, who'd paused to sit on a tree stump, apparently talking.

"I try not to do much thinking at all. It's a good way to keep from worrying about the years ahead, and how I'm going to manage. Eventually I will be alone, and I fear that day, fearing it's more than I can handle."

"Chris and I will always be with you, as long as you need us, and as long as we live; but long before either of us die, you will have found someone else. I know that will happen."

"How do you know that? I'm not sure I even want anyone. I'd be embarrassed now to have a wife. I'm trying to find something to do to fill the empty place that dancing left, and so far I haven't. The best thing in my life now are my twins and my parents."

I glanced again at the pair on the tree stump, just in time to see Bart jump up to lift the twins out of their double stroller, and then he was playing with them on the roadside grass. They liked everyone and even tried to charm Joel, who never touched them, never spoke to them as we did. Faintly we could hear the laughter of the little boy and girl who grew prettier and prettier each day. Bart looked and acted happy. I told myself that Bart needed someone, too, just as desperately as Jory did. In a way, he needed someone even more than Jory. Inevitably Jory would find his way, with or without a wife.

We sat on and on, watching the pair who played with the twins. A full moon rose, appearing

exceedingly large and golden in the twilight. A bird over the lake not so far away made its lonely cry. "What's that?" I asked, sitting up straighter. "I never heard a bird like that before down here."

"It's a loon," said Jory, looking in the direction of the lake. "Sometimes a storm blows them down this way. Mel and I used to rent a cottage on Mount Desert Isle, and we'd hear the cries of the loons and think them romantic. I wonder why we thought that. Now that cry just sounds forlorn, even eerie."

Out of the dark near the shrubbery, Joel spoke up. "There are some who say that lost souls inhabit the bodies of loons."