One hot Saturday in late May, I was down on my knees in Momma’s rose garden, lightly scratching the ground with a hand rake before I added fertilizer. Tuberose bulbs were nearby, and soon I’d have them in the ground. Sylvia was inside the house taking a nap, and Vera had driven with Papa into town to shop for new clothes.
Suddenly a long shadow threw cool shade above me. I tipped back the brim of my straw hat and stared up at Arden, whom I’d believed was off playing golf with his buddies. A small part of me thought he and Vera could very well have arranged to meet in town.
“Why are you wasting your time out here and forgetting your music?” he asked harshly, kicking at the bag of fertilizer by my garden tools. “Anybody can grow flowers, Audrina. Not everybody has the potential to be a great musician.”
“What happened to your dream of making all American cities beautiful?” I asked sarcastically, thinking that as soon as I won prizes with my new breeds of roses and tulips, I’d go on to cultivate orchids in a greenhouse I’d ordered. And once I was bored with orchids, I’d find another hobby to keep me going, until one day I, too, ended up in the Whitefern cemetery.
“You sound bitter, like your aunt,” said Arden as he settled down beside me on the grass. “Don’t we all have dreams when we’re very young?” His voice and face took on a certain wistfulness. “I used to believe that you would never find anything as fascinating or absorbing as me. How wrong I was. No sooner did we marry than you were locking doors to keep me out. You don’t need me like I thought you would. There you are on your knees with canvas gloves on your hands, and you keep that damned hat on your head to shade your face so I can’t even see you. You don’t lift your eyes to meet mine and you’ve stopped smiling when I come home. You treat me as if I’ve become a stuffy piece of furniture to clutter up the neatness of your days without me. Don’t you love me anymore, Audrina?”
I went on feeding the roses, plotting the tulip beds, thinking about the orchids, wondering how soon Sylvia would wake up. Arden reached to put his arms about me. “I love you,” he said in such a solemn way I was alerted enough to stop what I was doing. His arms about me knocked off my wide-brimmed hat. “If you can’t love me, Audrina, then let me go. Set me free to find someone who will love me as I want and need to be loved.”
I forced myself to say indifferently, “Vera …?”
“Yes,” he bit out, “Vera. At least she isn’t cold and unresponsive. She treats me like a man. I’m not a saint or a devil, Audrina, just a man who has desires you won’t satisfy. I’ve tried for almost three years—oh, how I’ve tried. But you won’t yield and now I’m tired of trying. I want out. I’m going to divorce you and marry Vera … unless you can love me physically as much as you love me in other ways.”
I swiveled around on my knees to stare into his face. He really did love me, it was in his eyes. I saw love for me shining in his eyes, and a terrible sadness was there. Divorcing me and marrying Vera wouldn’t make him truly happy … not nearly as happy as my physical response would.
Confused thoughts raced through my mind. Puppy love, my aunt and father had called what I felt for Arden … and they’d been right. Adolescent love that wanted nothing more than hugs, small kisses and hand-holding.
Now he was leaving me for Vera… and in the end he’d be just another Lamar Rensdale. Vera didn’t love him. She’d never love any man more than she loved herself, or maybe because she couldn’t love herself, she couldn’t love anyone.
I shook my head, wondering if at last I was finally growing up. Was the mature side of me going to burgeon forth at this very moment? I felt a rising excitement and none of the fear I’d experienced on our wedding night. He could have gone and never said a word to warn me. He could have taken Vera and I wouldn’t have contested our divorce, and he knew that. Still … he was giving me another chance … he did love me … it wasn’t pity … he did love me.
His eyes delved into mine as his hands gripped my shoulders and his voice filled with urgency, as if he sensed what was going on within me. “We can start all over,” he said in an excited way. “This time we can start off right. Just you and me, without Sylvia in the next room for you to fret about. I have physical feelings for Vera, but I love you in all the sweet, romantic ways that seem silly with someone as unromantic as Vera. You touch my heart when I come home and I see you sitting near a window, staring out. I stand and I see the way the light falls through your hair and makes it a halo and your skin seems translucent, and I’m filled with wonder that you are my wife. Vera never makes me feel I have anyone special, only someone any man could have. I used to think when I was younger that when I won you, I won a princess who would love me forever, and happily we’d grow old together, and hand in hand we’d face old age without fear. But it hasn’t worked out that way. I can’t go on this way, loving you but taking Vera in your place. You drain me dry, Audrina. You take my heart and wring it, forcing me to run to Vera for solace. When it’s over, I find only physical satisfaction but no spiritual sustenance. Only you can give me that. How can you expect me to go on wanting you when you don’t want me in the same way? Love is like a fire that needs replenishing often, not just with tender smiles and light touches but with passion, too. Let’s do it again, our honeymoon night, without doors between us to hide behind. Without shame, make love to me now. Right now. Out of doors, here where we are. Damian is in town. Vera is gone. Sylvia was in that damned rocking chair singing to herself before I came out here, and she’s likely to stay there until she falls asleep …”
He was touching my heart, caressing me with his eyes and stirring my blood as he’d never done before. His amber eyes burned, even his hand seemed hot when he touched my face lightly. Quickly he withdrew his hand as if my flesh felt as hot as his.
“Darling, marriage needs to grow, become adventuresome … do something that you’ve never done before. I don’t care what. Make love to me this time. Don’t wait for me to start.”
No, I thought, I couldn’t do that. It was a man’s duty to make the first overture. It would be cheap and unladylike to touch him first. But his eyes were imploring, lit up with desire. I didn’t deserve him—he should leave me alone, for in the end I’d fail him. Still, I wanted him. Something was telling me to do as he said, regardless of what Papa had said about men and their evil desires that shamed the women who did as they wanted. Papa had brainwashed me long ago, I told myself… and this time I was going to override all the signals that flashed evil, dirty, nasty…
It wasn’t easy to drown out all that shouted shame. I didn’t even think I could initiate anything unless he kept on looking at me as he was now. He made himself vulnerable, put his hands behind his back and resisted his urges to touch me first. I fought the small voices instilled by Papa and his teachings … no, he was my husband, and I did love him, and he really did love me.
“I’m scared, Arden … so scared of losing you to Vera.”
His eyes were warm, soft, encouraging me. Deep and passionate eyes that kept urging me to go ahead and it wouldn’t be his lust, only my own desire, and for some reason that seemed to make a great difference. What I did would be what I wanted to do—and if it was evil, then let it be evil.
Arden needed me. He loved me and not Vera. Tentatively I cupped his face between my palms. He didn’t move. His hands stayed behind his back. I kissed him lightly on his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, and, finally his lips. They stayed soft, but not too soft, and parted only a little. Again I kissed him, with more passion, and still he didn’t respond. He was like someone I could do anything with and he’d never harm me. I dared another kiss that was deep and long, even as my hands curved around him and began to stroke his back right down to his buttocks. Something was coming alive in me as he allowed me to do what I wanted, without his doing anything to me or requesting or hinting.
Passion such as I’d never felt before began to swell deep and hot and demanding in me. My breasts grew larger and peaked with demand as I ached to have his hands on
my flesh, needing his body, wanting him inside me. My breath began to come faster, his, too, but still he didn’t reach to drag me down or pull off my clothes. I was the one who tore at his shirt. Off with his belt, too, then I unzipped his trousers and threw them aside. Shamelessly I pulled down his briefs—and even then he didn’t touch me, though he rose up on his knees to allow me to rid him of all that he wore and fell on his back so I could pull off his shoes and socks. He seemed so eager he was impatient, but it seemed ridiculous to me to keep on shoes and socks.
Not a word did he say as I fell upon him to kiss him everywhere and fondle everywhere, until at last I could wait no longer.
Under a clear blue sky, with the hot sun beating down, I guided his penetration. This time, this marvelous first time, I really allowed myself to enjoy the feel of him inside me, lifting me with him into the kind of paradise I’d read about but never experienced.
And when his arms finally clasped me, I groaned from the pure ecstasy of having made him one with me at last.
“You’re crying,” he said when it was over. “It was so wonderful. I’ve finally reached you, Audrina. After trying so long, I’ve broken through that barrier you put up a long time ago.”
Yes, he was right. A barrier that Papa had constructed to keep me always bound to him.
“Sometimes I thought it was because you just didn’t love me as a man, only as a companion.”
“And still you kept right on loving me?” I asked with wonder.
“I could never stop loving you, no matter what.” His voice was hoarse, gritty with emotion. “You’re in my blood, part of my soul. If you never let me touch you again, I’d still want to wake up and see you asleep beside me. I said what I did only to shake you up and make you fear you might lose me to Vera. Audrina, there are times when you seem so remote and aloof, almost as if you’re in a trance, or caught in a spell.”
Quickly I leaned to kiss him, to stroke where I’d never wanted to touch before. He groaned with the joy and held me tighter. “If ever I should be so unfortunate as to lose you, I’d look the world over until I had another Audrina—so that means I’d go to my grave still searching. For there will never be another you.”
“Another Audrina? Did you know another Audrina?” I asked with a shiver that raced up and down my spine. Why had he said that?
His hands were warm on my skin, his eyes warmer. “It’s just my way of saying I have to have you and no one else.”
It was sweet to hear him say that and I easily shook off the sudden chill of apprehension and forced some leaden weight away from my soul, from my heart and conscience. Young and joyous as I’d never been, I laughed and turned to him again. I teased him with kisses and small touches, and wantonly I explored his body as many times he’d explored mine. For I loved him so much then that I could have died for him. And once I’d thought all this so sinful and evil. Damn Papa for making me think that, for spoiling what could have been like this all the time.
Twilight flooded the sky with its rosy farewell to the day, flaming the cloud bottoms crimson, streaking violet shot through with saffron. Folded in his arms, I watched the sun sink into the bay beyond the river. I watched as Arden fell fast asleep. For the first time after making love, I felt clean, and worthy of staying alive.
Unlike Papa, who loved the First Audrina best, Arden loved me for what I was, not for what he wanted me to be. I wrapped him in my arms as I watched the colors reflected on the water, different from the colors in the house. I lay there and began to think I hated all that stained glass, all those Tiffany lamps and shades, all that art deco and other false, manmade colors that gave me false fears. What did I have to fear now?
In the middle of the night I awakened. I thought I heard Sylvia calling my name. “Aud … dreen … naa.” Softly, repeatedly, my name called like that.
I’m coming, Sylvia, I thought-waved to her, as I often did, and somehow my messages seemed to reach her. First I had to lift Arden’s arm from my waist, then carefully I shifted from the heavy weight of his leg thrown over both of mine. When I was free I bent above him and stroked his cheek, kissed his lips.
“Don’t go … where are you going?” he sleepily asked.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I whispered.
“You’d better be,” he murmured sleepily, exhausted from hours of making love. “Need you again … soon …” and then he slept.
Sylvia was deeply asleep, curled up on her side, looking angelic in sleep as she always did. I kissed her, too, feeling full of love for everyone. Asleep she had never looked anything but beautiful and normal.
On the way back to where Arden slept and waited, I thought I heard my name called again. It seemed to come from the playroom … her bedroom. Was she jealous because now I’d found a man who loved me more than anyone had loved her?
I had to go to the playroom. I had to go and face up to her terror, which had always prevented me from enjoying Arden as I should have. It was in that rocking chair that I’d seen the three boys assault the First Audrina, and that had been the first step to force me away from normalcy. The second step to take me even further away from ever enjoying sex was Papa and all the things he’d done to Momma, and said to me. And the third step, taking me miles and miles away, was Papa’s indifference to how he hurt my aunt. But it wasn’t my horror, I told myself. It was Papa’s, it was hers, too, that first daughter who’d died before I was born.
Again Upon a Rainy Day
What compulsion had driven me to the First Audrina’s room and forced me into this chair where I sang foolishly? As I rocked, an ingrained terror of this chair that had tormented my childhood stole over me and made me a child again. Something whispered and told me to get out and leave before it was too late. Go back to Arden, said a wise part of me. Forget the past that can’t be changed, go back to Arden.
No, I said to myself. I had to be strong. I had to overcome my fears and the only way to do it was to deliberately evoke the rainy-day scene and make it happen again … and this time I’d stay with it until she died—and cast her memory forever from my life.
As I’d done before as a child, so I did again as a woman. I rocked and I sang and soon enough the walls softened and became porous before the molecules divided and I was inside the First Audrina’s memory again.
I saw my mother as she must have been when the First Audrina was alive, looking so young and pretty as she warned, “Audrina, promise you will never take the shortcut through the woods. It’s dangerous for young girls to go there alone.”
She was wearing one of her lovely watercolor printed voile dresses that fluttered in the breezes cooled by the river. All her favorite colors and mine were in that dress. Shades of green, blue, violet, aqua and rose. Her beautiful hair was loose and bannering out. Even as I thought all of this, I was planning to disobey and take the shortcut home.
Momma stooped to kiss my cheek. “Now, obey me, even if you are late for your own birthday party. It can’t start until you arrive anyway. Just forget the shortcut and ride the schoolbus home.”
But Spencer Longtree rode the school bus with his gang of roughneck buddies. They said such nasty, ugly things to me. I couldn’t tell her the awful things they said.
“U… G… L… Y…” shrilled Spencer Longtree, who hadn’t taken the school bus home. Risking the woods wasn’t sparing me his awful presence. “Audrina Adare has got ugly hair … spelled—”
“I already know how to spell ugly, Spencer Longtree,” I threw over my shoulder, “and that’s a description that fits you just F…I…N… E.”
“I’ll get you for that… and maybe when you’ve been had, you won’t feel so high and mighty just because you’re one of the Whiteferns who live in a fancy big house.”
Time to run, to skip, to hop and have fun in the woods where all the little animals hid. Look at the rainclouds overhead. They hid the sun and made it dark. Would the storm reach me before I reached home? Ruin my dress? Frizz my curls? Momma would throw a fit if I did
n’t look prettier than any other girl at my party—and this silly kind of dress water-spotted and shrank, too.
The rain came down.
I took the faint and winding path at full speed, feeling the silky whisper of my ruined dress as it clung to my legs. Yards ahead I thought I saw the bushes by the path move. I paused, ready to spin around and flee.
The thickness of the leaves above made a kind of canopy that caused the rain to fall in exceedingly large drops. They splashed down on the dirt before me, making dark polka dots that swiftly blended until all the dirt went dark and muddy.
Some people whistled when they felt afraid. I didn’t know how to whistle. I could sing. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me … happy birthday, dear Audrina … happy bir—
I broke off my song and froze. A definite movement in the bushes ahead. A muffled giggle. I turned to run the other way, then glanced back and saw three boys jump out from behind those thorny bushes that lined the faint path. Scratches bloodied their faces and made them seem fearsome. Yet they also seemed silly. Stupid, silly boys. Did they think they could catch me? I could run faster than Aunt Ellsbeth, who had boasted she could outrun anybody as a child.
Just when I thought I’d outraced them, one boy bounded ahead and seized me by my long hair. He almost ripped it from my scalp, it hurt so much. “Stop that, you beast!” I screamed. “Let me go! It’s my birthday—let me go!”
“We know it hurts,” Spencer Longtree’s raspy voice snarled. “We’re glad it hurts. It’s our birthday gift to you, Audrina. Happy ninth birthday, Whitefern girl.”