“I know that. I’ve been reading the Bible, haven’t I?”
“He considered Daddy evil and corrupt solely because he married his half-niece?”
“What else could he consider? Your father was a wonderful, good man.” Her face turned bitter with hot, angry rage. “Your grandfather could find something evil in an angel.”
She ranted on about him, practically spitting every time she mentioned him. Then she softened and told us how her original plan was to bring us to him, hopeful that when he saw how brilliant I was and how talented and beautiful Cathy was, his horrible ideas about our being the devil’s issue would disappear.
“But that was my dream, my fantasy. I don’t know what I was thinking when I planned that.”
“So you’re not going to tell him about us?” Cathy asked. “Ever?”
She shook her head.
“Great, let’s go,” Cathy muttered.
“No, no. Don’t worry,” Momma said. “He’s going to die soon.” She pleaded with Cathy to be patient. The tears streamed down her face. “We’re close,” she kept saying. “So close.”
I rose and embraced her. Looking at Cathy, I said, “Don’t worry. You’re not asking too much of us, not when we consider what we’ll all gain.”
Cathy looked away and shook her head, but Momma was pleased and stopped crying. The twins sat there, still stunned at the scene playing out before them. Momma hugged them and then tried to hug Cathy. She didn’t hug back. She just stared at the floor, shaking her head. I walked Momma to the door.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll keep them amused.”
“You’re so much like your father,” Momma said. “So mature and so strong.” She kissed me on the lips. I couldn’t help but kiss her back, luxuriating in the soft sweetness of her lips. Then she left and locked the door behind her.
I turned and looked at Cathy.
She was staring at me in a way I had never seen her look at me. It was as if she had just discovered who I really was.
How strange Corrine was, I thought. What sort of way was that to kiss your own son? And a mother who wanted her own father dead and wanted her children practically to pray for it to happen? This was really bothering me now. Couldn’t she find some other way to get them safe and secure? And once she realized what it was really going to be like for her children and her, why didn’t she abandon her plan? How could she let them suffer so? I couldn’t stop envisioning those poor gullible children, even Christopher, who was so blinded by his devotion to her, believing it wouldn’t take much longer.
Even lower forms of animals had instinctive drives to protect their young. It was unnatural for a mother to endanger her own children. From what I had read so far, Corrine’s parents were so fanatical and cruel it wouldn’t exactly take a brain surgeon to be intelligent enough to see the writing on the wall. This was hopeless.
I sat there stewing over it so long that I was shocked when I looked up at the clock and saw it was nearly six, and I hadn’t yet showered, brushed my hair, or even thought about what I would wear.
I jumped up as if springs had popped under me and then threw off my clothes as I charged into the bathroom. My friends had convinced me that because I was Kane’s girlfriend, I was practically cohosting this party, and with all that was being done for it, it was going to be the blast of blasts. Despite my casual attitude about what I would wear, I knew I had to look special, act my part. This wasn’t just some house party. Money and influence made families royalty in America, not birth and blood. The Hills were major contributors to the campaigns of the mayor, the congressman, both state senators, and the governor. If you bought a vehicle at one of the Hill dealerships and had a problem a politician could solve, Kane’s father, Crosby Hill, would make a call for you.
There were no real castles in America handed down for centuries. There were, however, huge houses and estates that more than rivaled old castles because of their expensive construction materials, pools, tennis courts, landscaping, and technology. Kane’s home was one of those nouveau castles to which people dreamed of being invited. For a few hours of one evening, I would be like the lady of Hill Hall.
My father hadn’t done any work on the Hill house himself. He knew other builders who had, and he never drove us past it without making some comment about the house that was “practically built out of solid gold.” He would go on and on about the high quality of the plumbing or the newest materials for roofing. Until now, I practically fell asleep listening, even though he spoke with passion. He was like an artist admiring the achievements of another. I smiled to myself about it, but I wasn’t exactly fascinated with the house—at least, not until now.
I was afraid to ask him how the restored Foxworth Hall compared, but just from what I had seen of the property and the amount of rubble, I could see that Foxworth Hall had been much bigger and, of course, had much more acreage. Although Corrine’s parents weren’t popular people and were apparently more concerned with religion than their social status and political influence, I couldn’t help believing they were quite important at one time or another. Perhaps Corrine dreamed of all this, saw herself as assuming a throne of some sort, once her parents were gone and she had inherited it all. Maybe she wasn’t just selfish but coldly ambitious after all.
I really did try to put the diary out of my mind as I sped through my preparations. It wasn’t easy. I couldn’t help thinking that thirteen- and fifteen-year-olds did a great deal more socializing today than they did back when the Dollanganger children were incarcerated in that attic world, but kids back then still wanted to go to parties and had romantic thoughts. Although Christopher had not yet written about anyone romantically, he did mention the girl who liked to press her body against his. I felt sure he had looked at one girl or another and imagined some sort of romance. From what
I imagined he looked like, I was confident that girls were interested in him.
Cathy was already dreaming of being as beautiful as her mother. What good would it do her to look pretty while she was shut up and away from any other girls and boys her age? Surely, Corrine, after having suffered so under her parents’ iron rule, could appreciate what she was doing to her daughter especially.
I was desperately trying to drive these thoughts from my mind. They were spoiling my mood, ruining my excitement about the party and being with Kane. I practically ripped the black jeweled designer jeans that I had decided to wear off their hanger. I kept glancing at the diary, still open on my bed, mumbling my rage at Corrine, her parents, all of it. I was going to add some color with my blouse, but I was in a dark mood and decided to wear my three-quarter-sleeved cowl-neck blouse that clung tightly to my torso and hips. It had been a while since I had worn it, and it was a little snug, especially around my bosom. Normally, I didn’t dress like this, but I didn’t feel normal at the moment.
The only makeup I decided I had time to put on properly was my lipstick. I added a pair of my mother’s amethyst dangle earrings, which had images of swans. Then, just before I reached for my black leather jacket, I decided to put on a string of pearls. I started out, stopped as if I heard a voice calling to me, and returned to close the diary and shove it under my pillow. I could smother the book, but the voices were stuck in my head.
Kane was already at my door ringing the buzzer as I started down the stairs.
“You’re as prompt as a schoolteacher,” I said, maybe too critically. I saw the way he winced. “Don’t you know a girl has to be late?”
He smiled. “Don’t you know how anxious a boy can be?”