Web of Dreams

  fascinating.

  "Will you have your own rooms after you're married, too?"

  "Of course."

  "But you didn't have your own rooms back in Boston. You always shared one with Daddy," I said. If she was so in love with Tony, I thought, why did she want to be separated? When I fell in love, I knew that I would never want my own bedroom. I would want to be with my husband every night, every moment.

  "I always wanted my own suite, but your father could never understand. A woman needs her privacy. I don't want my husband standing over me while I go through my beauty rituals. There are things I'd rather he didn't know," she added gazing at herself in one of my dresser mirrors. "I have my secret ways of keeping my skin wrinkle-free, ways I'll share with you when the time comes, of course, but a husband need not know.

  "A woman has to keep herself somewhat mysterious. If a man knows every little thing about you, he will lose interest in you. But if you can surprise him every once in a while, he will think you're exciting forever. That's why there are things I will tell you that we will never tell men, even men we love. Understand?" she asked smiling.

  "Yes." I knew that one of the secrets she wanted to guard closely was the secret of her age. Perhaps, if Tony saw her at her dressing table every night, he would figure out that she was much older than she claimed, I thought.

  "And besides," she continued, pacing slowly at the side of my bed as she lectured like a college professor, "there are times you just don't feel like having intimate contact with your husband. Men can be so insistent, so annoying with their male drives and needs. They'll pester you to death until you give in to their lust.

  "If you have your own rooms, you can simply close the door and shut off all that vexatious, irritating, and aggravating behavior. If you want to remain youthful and beautiful-looking, you've got to be a little selfish, Leigh. You would think a man could be considerate and understand, especially a man who claims to love you, but men can't control themselves sometimes. The sexual urge is much more demanding for them.

  "But," she said waving her hand in the air, "I'm sure you know most of this by now."

  "Oh no, Momma. I don't."

  "Really? How innocent and sweet you are," she said looking at me as if she saw me for the first time. "When I was your age. . ." She paused and bit down on her lower lip. "Well, those were different times. I didn't have a quarter of what you had and I was exposed to a different crowd of people. We grew up faster.

  "In fact," she added after a deep sigh, "I lost half my childhood, lost that wonderful innocent time when the world looks so rosy and nothing seems more tragic than not being invited to a party or having a pimple on your face."

  I started to laugh, but then thought, if Momma found a pimple on her face now, she would think it was the end of the world. In that way she wasn't so different from my girlfriends.

  "So," she said returning to the moment, "just remain in bed. Stay cozy and warm. Tony's having your dinner sent up."

  "I could get dressed and join you in the dining room. I feel fine," I protested.

  "No, no. You've had a shock. I'll stop by after dinner, we'll have that talk about my honeymoon." She left.

  A little while later, Tony had my dinner sent up. He made it into a major production, just to amuse me, I was sure. A different maid brought each course, and Curtis brought up my entree. Then Tony appeared with the dessert himself, a short towel over his arm like a waiter. I found myself unable to resist laughing.

  "Now that's the face I need to see," he responded. He stepped back after placing the custard pie on my bed table. I felt myself blush. "I'm glad you're feeling better. Had enough to eat?"

  "Oh yes, thank you. But I could have easily come down."

  "That's all right. You have to get used to being pampered. You're going to live like a princess now," he said, his voice soft, enticing. "Farthy is a palace; the Tattertons are an empire." He looked so serious, I didn't crack a smile. "I wanted to buy you an entirely new wardrobe and told Jillian not to even bother moving any of your things from Boston, but she insisted on bringing some things."

  "I have a lot of new things, things I haven't even worn yet," I said. "I don't need an entire new wardrobe."

  "We'll see. Anyway, can I get you anything else?"

  "No, thank you. Is Troy all right?"

  "Fast asleep, but I expect he'll be one of the first up in the morning, so expect him to come crashing through your door once he learns you've slept over. I didn't tell him, but he's a Tatterton, and like me, he senses everything new and different in Farthy. It's a part of us and we are a part of it. There's an uncanny, almost eerie connection between the Tattertons and our home," he said, looking about my room as if the house indeed could feel and listen and know the things that happened in it and were said in it. "It absorbs us, our history, our passions, our hopes and dreams," he added in a voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were dreamy and faraway-looking and I thought he'd forgotten I was in the room with him. His love of his home was so intense, it was frightening.

  "That's why I hope you will forget the bad experience you had today in the maze," he said looking down at me, his eyes narrow, ice blue. "Don't blame Farthy. I want you to grow to love this place as much as I do."

  "I don't blame anyone or anything. It was just a stupid mistake," I said.

  He was silent, and I grew nervous and felt I should say more.

  "From the moment I saw it, I thought Farthy was beautiful . . . like a storybook kingdom."

  "Yes," he said. "A storybook kingdom," he whispered, his eyes glassy, far-off. There was another long moment of silence between us and then he slapped his hands together. "Okay, I'll leave you to eat your delectable dessert. Someone will be up shortly to collect your dishes. Have a good night's sleep, Leigh," he said coming over to me. "Can I kiss you good night?"

  I hesitated. Was this another betrayal of Daddy? Whenever he was home, he came to kiss me good night. But Tony looked so sincere and sorry, I couldn't refuse him. He had been so concerned about me. It wasn't fair to him either, I thought. I nodded and he leaned over and kissed me softly on the forehead, his lips lingering a little longer than I expected.

  And then he was gone.

  The servants arrived and took away my dishes. I stared at the empty door, listening to the vague sounds from below. I drifted in and out of sleep, dozing off a few minutes at a time and then waking with a sudden start and realizing where I was and what had happened.

  Momma came into my bedroom just before going to her own suite, as she had promised. But instead of talking about her honeymoon plans, she told me all about the dinner, some of the guests they had, rambling on about the service, the dishes, the various topics of conversation. Her monologue made me even sleepier, and when my eyes closed in the middle of one of her sentences, she declared it was time for her to go to sleep, too.

  "We want to have an early breakfast and go off to Boston," she said and kissed me good night. At the doorway, she turned and laughed, a thin, high-pitched laugh.

  "What a strange and yet wonderful day this has been," she said. "I have a feeling all our days will be just as exciting from now on. You'll help me see to that, won't you Leigh?"

  I opened my eyes and looked at Momma in puzzlement. What could she possibly mean? Wouldn't marrying Tony make her every dream come true? What did I have to do with her happiness?

  "Won't you Leigh." It wasn't a question but a sharp demand.

  After an exhausting day all I wanted to do was sleep. "Of course, Momma," I weakly agreed, unable to find the strength to refuse before slipping into sleep.

  We left for Boston right after breakfast, just as Momma had planned. The snowstorm had ended shortly after midnight, but so much had fallen so fast that there was nearly a foot of new snow. Farthy resembled a winter wonderland in the bright morning sunlight. Some of the pine trees looked like they had had giant sheets tossed over them, because so little green was visible.

  During the ride back to Bos
ton, Mommy finally elaborated on her honeymoon plans. She and Tony were flying to St. Moritz to stay at the Palace Hotel, something I knew she had always wanted to do, and since Tony was such a good skier and had been there before, he was very agreeable.

  "It's a wonderful place for a honeymoon," she told me. "Members of Europe's aristocracy will be there, and you know how much I've wanted to go to the Palace Hotel.

  "I never really had a honeymoon," she continued. "After your father and I were married, we came directly to Boston. He had promised to take me to Havana, but wouldn't you know it, as soon as we returned, he claimed he had a major business crisis, partially brought about because of his prolonged stay in Texas. Can you imagine? He was indirectly blaming me because he had remained in Texas longer than he had planned, just so he could win my hand in marriage.

  "But finally," she said, "I'm going to have the honeymoon I deserve. Unfortunately, we'll be away for Christmas and New Year's, but you will have everything at your disposal at Farthy and mountains of gifts. If you want Miles to take you someplace, he will. You understand, don't you?" she asked without pausing to take a breath. She was almost pleading for my approval.

  "Yes, Momma," I said, but couldn't help feeling horrible about my beginning my life at Farthy, which for the most part still remained a strange place, during the holidays, without Daddy or her.

  "We'll make it up to you when we return. You know, of course, that Tony's working behind the scenes to get you right into the best private girls' school around," she added quickly. I hadn't known, not until this very moment. I had just assumed I would go to a public school close to Farthy.

  "No, I didn't know. What school, Momma?"

  "It's called Winterhaven. Isn't that a wonderful name for a private school? It just rings of class and richness, doesn't it? You know it's special because it has a waiting list yards long, but Tony is sure he can pull a few strings and get you in, especially since you're such a good student. It's a sleep-over school," she added quickly.

  "A sleep-over? You mean, live there . . like at a

  college?"

  "Miles will drive you there every Sunday night and you can return every Friday, if you like. Doesn't that sound wonderful? Think of all the new friends you will make, and all girls from well-known, rich families. And you will meet fine young men, too. They have dances and get-togethers with a nearby allboys finishing school. You will finally be around people of your class, Leigh--finally," she added with a breath. And then, as if that was all there was to it, she turned away and began reviewing her wedding plans again.

  I sat back, stunned. All these changes being rushed over me--I would spend Christmas and New Year's alone at Farthy, I would go to an all-girls school, a sleep-over, and have to make all new friends. My life was truly topsy-turvy. I should have anticipated it, I thought. I should have realized all this was going to happen, but I kept avoiding reality, dreaming that it would all go back to the way it was. Now that I heard the hard details, my dreams popped like balloons. And there was nothing I could do.

  I felt even sadder and more depressed when we arrived at our Boston town house. Because Daddy was going to be away so much, and because we were now leaving it for good, our servants would have to go. I was especially fond of Clarence and Svenson, and they were fond of me. They had been with us for as long as I could remember. This trip home might very well be the last time we would see each other.

  I was happy to learn, however, that Daddy was hiring them to work on one of his ships. There was always a need for a good chef on an ocean liner and since Clarence was such a perfect house servant, he would be assigned to the captain of the ship.

  A second thing that made me happy was the discovery of a letter from Daddy. It had just arrived from the Canary Islands. Clarence brought it to my bedroom moments after we arrived. I could see by the look on his face that he hadn't told Momma. Perhaps this had been Daddy's instructions. I didn't like keeping secrets from Momma, but I thought perhaps this was better. She wouldn't have anything to feel bad about.

  I opened it quickly and read.

  .

  Dearest Leigh,

  I hope this letter finds you safe and well. I know you can't be happy with your life having been upset so, but I hope things have settled down somewhat for you and in time, you will find happiness again. I, of course, will do anything in my power to make that happen.

  My trip to the Canary Islands was uneventful. This is a beautiful place, however, and I am happy I was talked into considering it. I will definitely be adding it to our route structure.

  We will be leaving here shortly and heading for Miami, Florida, where I will be working on my Caribbean itineraries with travel experts and the like. It looks like I will be there during the holidays, but I will call you on New Year's Eve. I know where you will be.

  Yes, Leigh, I know about your mother's plans to remarry. That was part of what we discussed when she came into my office and asked you to leave us. I knew this would only add to your sorrow, so I didn't want to bring it all up. Perhaps now, your mother will find that world of happiness she dreams of. She also told me of her plans for you to attend one of the finest finishing schools in the East. I rest easier knowing you will at least have all the material comforts life has to offer.

  I promise to visit you every chance I get. For a while I would like to bury myself in my work. It has helped me get over the emotional crisis and tragedy. However, it is a consolation for me to know that you will be there when I return.

  Now you are the only remaining soft and beautiful part of my life. I don't want to say anything that will make you cry, so button down the hatches and wait for my ship to come back.

  I promise it will.

  Love, Daddy

  .

  The walls of my heart quivered. I held the tears within and swallowed the cries that tried to emerge from my throbbing throat. Daddy didn't want me to cry; he didn't want his letters to leave me sad and distraught, but it was so hard to read his words and not hear his voice and see his gray beard, his rosy cheeks, and his eyes filled with pride and love. It was hard to hear these words in my mind and not think of him downstairs in his office, scribbling away on his old desk. I wanted to shout "NO, NO, NONE OF THIS HAS HAPPENED!" I wanted ray shouts to wipe away all the unhappy moments and return us to the happy ones. I won't put up with it; I won't, I won't

  My heart pounded with my anger and frustration, but my fragile, weak fists landed insignificantly on the top of my desk. Who would hear them? Who would care? What could I change? I dropped my head to my arms over Daddy's letter and gasped back my cries in deep breaths. Then I raised my head, folded Daddy's first letter neatly, and placed it in my diary. I knew it would grow thin and tattered at its edges from my frequent unfolding and folding after I read it again and again.

  By the time Momma came by, I had regained my composure and I was busy packing the last few things I wanted taken to Farthy. Of course, we were going to leave many things here in Boston. Momma had decided some weren't good enough for Farthy; others, she would rather replace with new ones.

  "You won't believe this," she said, laughter trailing her words like a tail of smoke. She waved a letter. "But my mother has decided she will attend my wedding after all, even though my horrible sisters won't.

  "In fact," she continued, gazing at the letter, "if she keeps to this schedule, she will be arriving here in Boston today."

  "When? What time?" A visit from Grandma Jana was always a special occasion. Her visits were infrequent because she hated to travel and she wasn't fond of the North, especially the Northeast, but when she arrived, she always made quite a stir. Momma was less than happy to have her and always breathed a sigh of relief when she left.

  Momma checked her watch.

  "It could be any time now. I'd better warn the servants, especially Svenson. You know how finicky she can be when it comes to eating. Oh damn. I was hoping' she and my witch-face sisters would arrive together on the day of my wedding, attend and l
eave. I just don't have the time to cater to her right now. You'll have to help me, Leigh. She likes you more than she likes me."

  "Oh Momma, she doesn't," I protested.

  "She does, but it doesn't matter. I don't mind. It's a wonder she likes anyone. Now please," Momma begged, "don't put on any long faces. I know she's going to be horrible about my divorce and quick remarriage as it is. If she sees you moping about . . ."

  "I won't be moping about," I said, turning away quickly so she wouldn't see my eyes.

  "Good. That's my girl, my darling little girl," she said. "Now, what was I going to do? Oh yes, warn the servants," she said and hurried out of my room.

  Grandma Jana did arrive a little less than two hours later, complaining bitterly about planes and trains and taxicabs as she entered the house behind her baggage. I heard her shouting at the cab driver who struggled with her luggage, scraping a bag against the door as they came in. Clarence came rushing to the poor man's aid.

  It was hard to believe that an elderly woman hardly five feet tall, a thin wisp of a woman, could make grown men jump and stutter so, but her voice snapped like a bullwhip when she was angry and her small, sharp eyes flashed. She had her silvery gold hair pinned back so tightly in a bun that the skin at the corners of her eyes and the top of her forehead looked strained, something which only added to her fierce and fiery demeanor. Even Momma looked terrified and stood back, her hands clasped against her breasts as Grandma Jana swung her cane threateningly at the driver, who was eager to turn over his responsibilities to Clarence. I stood on the stairway, watching.

  "Those bags survived baboons- handling them at the airport. I don't intend to have them damaged coming into my daughter's home," she screeched as the driver scurried out.

  "Hello Mother," Momma said. She hugged her awkwardly, Grandma Jana keeping her attention on Clarence, who now struggled to carry the bags as gingerly as he could up the stairway. Her eyes found me.