Daddy has a new lady friend, a real young woman from Strasburg. One day a couple of weeks ago he said at the breakfast table, “I'm thinking of gettin' married again. How would y'all feel about havin' a new ma?”
Kyle and I looked at each other. We were doing fine without a ma and Daddy could tell we were not too pleased with his idea. He cleared his voice and said, “Well, she wouldn't be your ma, exactly, but I could use me a wife. Y'all wouldn't deny me that, now would ya?” He was grinning a grin I'd never seen on his face before.
“No, Daddy,” said Kyle, but my heart was pounding. I didn't want some stranger in my house.
“Her name's Susanna Cody,” Daddy said. “She's a little young, but—”
“How young?” I interrupted.
“Nineteen. Nearly twenty.”
“Nineteen!” Kyle said. I was too shocked to say anything. Daddy is thirty-five!
“That's too young for you, Daddy,” Kyle said.
“You presume to be tellin' me my business, boy?” Daddy said. He was not really angry. Actually, I have not seen Daddy angry since before Mama died.
So last Saturday, Daddy invited Susanna Cody to dinner. Of course I had to do the cooking, which was fine with me since it gave me something to do while Kyle and Daddy entertained Susanna in the parlor. I was wondering if she knew that was the room where Daddy's last wife blew her head off.
Susanna is near as tall as Daddy and very pretty. She is not too talkative which makes me wonder what she and Daddy have to say to each other. She has nearly black hair that she wears short and curled and she looks no more than eighteen, I think. She looks like she should be with Kyle instead of Daddy, but she took no interest in Kyle whatever. She only has eyes for Daddy. I don't understand it. Daddy's not bad looking but his face is lined and his hair's shifting back from his forehead. Still, she's smiling at him all the time and calling him Charles which is new to our ears. Ma always called him Daddy. Anyhow, Susanna seems like a nice enough person if she'll just leave us alone. Daddy announced at dinner that they'll be getting married in November.
November 7, 1942
Most of the time, I don't feel lonely, even when I'm alone in the cavern. Or maybe least of all there. There is something living about the tites and mites. They are my company, along with my stories. And you, my journal.
But today at the wedding I felt lonelier than ever before. The wedding was held in a little chapel in Strasburg. Hardly a soul was there. Just Susanna's mother, who is a widow and would probably make a more fitting bride for Daddy than Susanna, considering age anyhow, Susanna's friend and the friend's boyfriend, and Susanna's older sister and her husband. Kyle brought Sara Jane, and he and I fought about this, I'm ashamed to say. We were in the cave and he said he's tired of me criticizing Sara Jane and being cruel to her. “She tries to talk to you and you ignore her,” he said. “The other night she was talking to me about it and she cried, she felt so hurt.”
I was outraged. “What about all the times she hurt me?” I said.
“When we were kids maybe. I know she was mean then. But she's different now. She'd like to do things with you. You could go shopping or just talk or do whatever most girls do when they're together.”
“I'm not like 'most girls,' ” I said.
“Well, I wish you were,” he said. “Look at you. You live like a hermit in this stupid cave. You don't care how you dress or how you look or—”
“I'd like you to leave my cavern now, please,” I said, very calmly. I wasn't about to sit there and listen to his insults. His cheeks were red and he turned on his heel like a soldier and left the cave. After he was gone I made a decision to treat Sara Jane more kindly. Otherwise I'll lose Kyle.
So I was determined to be nice to her at the wedding. I sat on one side of Kyle, Sara Jane sat on the other, and as I sat there I tried to think of things I could say to her after the ceremony but my mind was blank as a sheet of new writing paper. A panicky feeling come over me and I thought I would die if I didn't get out of that church and into the air.
As we left the church, Sara Jane said to me, “Your Daddy looks so happy.”
I tried to say yes, but no words came out, and I tried to nod but my neck was stiff and wouldn't move. I wanted to get away from her so I could breathe. Truly, I have never felt so close to suffocating.
It is not just Sara Jane. Susanna's ma came up to me and took my hand and said, “We're family now,” and I felt ready to pass out.
This is what I mean about feeling lonely. I wanted to be nice and social and instead I felt like the time I accidentally got locked in the pantry when I was five. I couldn't breathe right, my eyes got all blurred up, and my heart thumped like I would die. I can't even explain it to Kyle because he would just say I'm not trying hard enough, but I don't know how to try any harder.
January 5, 1943
Susanna had a brother, John, who died at Pearl Harbor. He was just seventeen, a year older than Kyle. When I try to imagine what it would be like if Kyle died I get that heart attack pain in my chest again. I look at Susanna and wonder how she can smile, how she can go on at all.
I wish the war would end before Kyle finishes school next year because he is bound and determined to fight. He talks about it being his duty and now he talks about “avenging John's death.” And I say what if he dies too? But Kyle doesn't seem to think that's possible. He has this attitude that nothing bad can happen to him, that he is protected in some way. I never have that feeling. Instead, I am certain my death is waiting for me around the next bend in the road. Every morning I am surprised to wake up alive.
–11–
Seventy-six miles per hour. Eden kept her eyes riveted on the speedometer as Lou bore down on the gas pedal with her one foot, the foot that would also have to work the brake. There was little traffic on 81, but Eden clutched the armrest with a damp hand nevertheless.
They were on their way to a doctor's appointment in Winchester. Lou had asked Eden to go with her, and Eden had agreed, thinking Lou might need her help. She offered to drive, but Lou laughed at the suggestion. “It takes practice to drive this thing,” she said, pointing to the van. Eden watched Lou's effortless operation of the lift that swung her chair into position behind the steering wheel, and as they flew down the curved roads between Lynch Hollow and the highway, she knew that Lou had not asked her along for her help.
Kyle had handed Eden the next notebook as she climbed into the van. “Maybe you'll want to do a little reading while you're waiting for Lou,” he'd said. Now the notebook rested on her knees, along with a script Nina had sent her to consider.
Eden watched the waves of heat rising from the road as the usual silence stretched between her aunt and herself. “Hot,” she said after they'd driven a few miles.
“It's going to be a real scorcher of a summer,” Lou said. “It's probably hotter in New York, though. Do you miss it?”
“Not really,” said Lou. “Too much traffic up there. I like to cut loose in a car.”
“I noticed.”
“We go up about once a month. See friends, do the theater, go shopping. I always knew we'd end up back here eventually, though. Kyle's roots have a strong pull on him.”
There were a few other patients, mostly elderly, in the waiting room of the doctor's office.
“Geriatrics,” Lou whispered to Eden as she wheeled herself into the room. “He specializes.”
Eden took a seat next to her aunt's chair and set the journal once again on her lap. She'd left the script in the van. Nina was pushing her, as usual, but Eden couldn't think about another film right now.
There were some whispers from across the room, a twittering that let Eden know she'd been recognized. In a moment a frail-looking little woman left her seat and came over to sit next to her.
“You're Eden Riley, aren't you?”
Eden smiled. “Yes, I am.”
“I knew it! I was just sitting there reading this article in People”—she held up the magazine, open to a picture of E
den with Michael Carey—”and I looked up and there you were in the flesh.”
“Well, you have a very keen eye. Not everyone recognizes me. Would you like me to sign that picture for you?”
“Oh, yes. My granddaughter worships you. She'll be thrilled.”
Eden set the magazine on top of the notebook in her lap. She had seen this picture, taken at the opening of Heart of Winter, many times before. She and Michael were arm in arm and dressed to kill, he in a tux, she in sequins. They'd given birth to an abundance of rumors that night.
She personalized the autograph to the woman's granddaughter and signed it, the witch of the North Star, Eden Riley. The woman looked far less frail as she hopped back across the room with her new treasure.
“You do that very easily, don't you, dear?” Lou asked. “Switch into the professional Eden Riley?”
“It becomes second nature after a while.” It was switching out of that role she found difficult.
The receptionist peeked out of her glass room. “Good morning, Mrs. Swift,” she said. “How's Mr. Swift doing?”
“He's fine, thank you, dear.”
“Has Kyle been ill?” Eden asked.
“No, not at all. Just the arthritis, which irritates the hell out of him. But when you reach a certain age you realize that even under the best of circumstances you don't have that much time left. So, Kyle's fine, but he feels every little ache and pain and it makes him think about what's important to him, what he wants to accomplish with the rest of his life.”
“The site?”
Lou closed the magazine in her lap. “The site means a lot to him, but you're more important to him than anything else,” she said. “You and Cassie. That's why he's so happy you're with us. He wants to…set things right with you. He always regretted not taking you in as soon as Kate died. He wishes he could make it up to you. He thinks this is his chance, helping you with the film.”
“Kyle's already done enough for me,” Eden said.
Lou glanced over at her. “Do you know that, dear?”
“Yes.” She looked down at the journal, her cheeks hot. Kyle had done plenty for her, but in one crucial way Lou had done more.
“Maybe one of these days you could find it in your heart to tell him that.”
A nurse led Lou into the back office, and Eden stared at her hands where they rested on the notebook. She knew Kyle had wanted to take her in after Katherine died, but her grandfather wouldn't let him. Granddaddy disliked Lou, and he told Kyle that his traveling would be no good for a child. So Eden stayed in Lynch Hollow with Granddaddy and Susanna. Her grandfather all but ignored her. He said Katherine had spoiled her beyond repair and now he had to set her right. Susanna ran hot and cold, and it was never safe to turn to her for anything. Eden remembered trying to climb into Susanna's lap for a hug just a few weeks after Katherine's death. Susanna pushed her away, telling her she was too old to be cuddled, and Eden never bothered trying again.
Her grandfather died when Eden was ten. His death was a surprise, something to do with his heart. Shortly after that Susanna developed pneumonia. The house filled with her cough. The roof started leaking that year, and Eden set buckets and bowls on the floor of the living room whenever it rained, while Susanna lay in bed, pale and wheezing. Susanna finally got so bad her family took her in. But they refused to take Eden, wanting nothing to do with the daughter of the woman who'd lived in a cave. Susanna never told Eden her plans. Instead she had bundled her off to the orphanage. Once the initial shock wore off, Eden wasn't surprised to find herself there. She'd learned not to grow attached to anyone, too fond of anyone, so there could be no surprises and no hurt.
She lived at the orphanage for two years, surrounded by children whose lives had been even more devastating than her own and who therefore had nothing with which to taunt her. But it was too late. Eden wasn't going to risk getting close to anyone, and the other children quickly gave up on her. She devoted her time to her homework and reading. Then one of the nuns began taking them to the movies, and Eden found her passion. The movies stayed in her mind for weeks at a time, and she imagined herself starring in her favorite roles. She'd sneak into the communal bathroom in the middle of the night to practice in front of the small mirror above the chipped porcelain sink. Once she was caught in the midst of her tearful portrayal of Ingrid Bergman learning she had tuberculosis in The Bells of St. Mary's, and she had a terrible time explaining what had devastated her so.
The day after her thirteenth birthday Eden was summoned to the director's office. She was afraid of Sister Joseph, the diminutive, razor-tongued director, and by the time she reached the office she was trembling. Sister Joseph was dwarfed by her big mahogany desk, yet she looked formidable to Eden with her bushy black eyebrows and thin white lips. There were two people sitting in the chairs in front of Sister Joseph's desk, but it wasn't until they stood to face her that Eden recognized them as Kyle and Lou. She felt an old, nearly forgotten joy that they'd come to visit her, and dread at the knowledge that they would leave her again. It was always that way with Kyle and Lou. They had stopped in at Lynch Hollow from time to time between trips to South America, but they never stayed long. So Eden had no expectation that this visit would be any different. Her dread locked horns with her happiness, and she allowed no emotion whatever to show on her face. That was nothing new. The only times she cried these days, the only times she laughed, were during her hours of escape in front of the bathroom mirror.
Kyle hugged her while she stood rigid as stone in his arms.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “We didn't know about Susanna, and when we found out, we had trouble tracking you down. We never would have let you stay here.”
They were not just passing through this time, she thought. Kyle meant to take her away with him and Lou. Still, she didn't let her happiness show. She could be wrong. She could be back here within a week.
Sister Joseph took Kyle aside, and Eden knew she was telling him she was too withdrawn, too sullen. She heard it from the nuns herself all the time. But Kyle left the office with determination in his smile. He put one arm around her, the other around Lou. “We'll take good care of her,” he said to Sister Joseph.
Eden was an adult before she understood the sacrifice Kyle and Lou had made for her. They had intentionally had no children so they'd be free to travel, to pursue their careers. When she moved in with them Kyle took a teaching position at NYU to put an end to his traveling, giving up his first love to create a stable home life for her.
They'd lived in New York, a block from Washington Square in Greenwich Village. The kids in New York had read all of Katherine Swift's books, so at first they were impressed with Eden. But her accent earned her the label “hillbilly,” and soon the teasing started again.
Eden learned to keep her mouth shut. Kyle and Lou did all they could for her, buying her dance lessons, piano lessons, speech lessons, trying to scrape every last trace of Lynch Hollow from her. They would have bought her friends, too, if that had been possible.
Eden remembered her life in that apartment as a string of television shows. She stayed up late watching old movies, sneaking again, because Kyle didn't approve. Once she overheard Lou and Kyle talking about her voracious appetite for movies. She was just like Kate, Kyle said, living her life through the lives of other people. The apartment was nothing more than her cave.
The cave. Eden's eyes rested once again on the notebook in her lap as the receptionist broke the hushed stillness of the waiting room by calling another patient. She really should see the cave. She wished Kyle were not so adamant about keeping it closed. But would she go in if he'd let her? She would have to. She was missing something, missing the atmosphere that had comforted her mother and would color this film.
Eden picked up the journal from her lap and began to read.
October 11, 1943
Kyle is seventeen now but he acts like twenty-five. He thinks he is all grown up.
Yesterday was his birthday and
Sara Jane took him into Winchester for dinner. I was in my cave when he got back and he had whiskey with him. I could tell he'd already had plenty to drink because his tie was undone, his shirttails were loose outside his trousers and his hair was hanging straight and blond in his face. He sat on the settee with a blanket around his shoulders and asked me to read the story I was writing aloud to him.
“Give me some of that whiskey first,” I said.
He came over to the mattress and sat next to me and handed me the bottle. I drank til my ears burned. I wanted to get drunk fast. I've been drunk two or three times and I like it because for a few hours I feel as though I have no worries at all.
We passed the bottle back and forth for a while and I was enjoying Kyle more than ever because he was at ease and grinning and not as serious as usual.
“I need your sisterly advice,” he said, and I could see he was trying to look serious with his out-of-focus eyes. “Your help as a girl, I mean.”
I was confused and obviously not as drunk as he was.
“See,” he continued. “Sara Jane and I have decided to make love.” He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for my reaction.
I wanted to tell him he shouldn't do that until he was married, but I'm not too sure I believe that myself and I sure don't want to put any notion in his head about marrying Sara Jane. “How can I help?” I asked.
“Well, I don't know what to do. I mean I understand basically what to do but��” He started giggling uncontrollably. I just stared at him in amazement because I never saw him act silly before. Once he finally stopped giggling I asked him, “How far has it gone already?” I loved that he was drunk enough that I could get away with being nosy about this.