Olivia

  "Get in the car, Belinda," I ordered and opened the door. "Come on, get in," I said.

  "Are we all going somewhere?" she asked and got into the car.

  "Yes," I said. "We're all going crazy."

  She thought that was funny. We brought her home and I saw that she went up to her room.

  "She's in no condition to go on a holiday yet, Olivia,"

  Samuel said. "Let's just do what we can to get her healthy."

  "I just don't have the time for this now, Samuel," I told him. "She's got to snap out of it herself and she's got to do it immediately."

  He shook his head as if I were talking gibberish. After dinner that night however, I went up to Belinda's room. She was sitting at her vanity table, mindlessly running, a brush through her hair and smiling dreamily at her image in the mirror as if she saw a much younger, thinner face again.

  "Belinda, I want to talk to you and I want you to look at me and listen," I told her. She turned slowly.

  "I always listen to you, Olivia," she said

  "Yes, but do you hear me?"

  She giggled.

  "If I listen, I have to hear you, don't I?"

  "You've got to get a hold of yourself now. I want you to stop behaving like a. . . a crazy woman. I want you to eat right, dress right, be judicious about your makeup and start thinking about what you want to do with the rest of your life. We can't have you continue as a burden on everyone. Do you

  understand?"

  "Yes," she said.

  "Good."

  She turned back to the mirror and continued to brush her hair.

  "Actually, I've very upset. No one's called me today, Olivia."

  "Your phone was disconnected, Belinda, remember?"

  "Oh. Was it? Well, can you connect it again? I'm expecting calls."

  I stared at her and she brushed her hair and then started to put on her lipstick far too thickly.

  "This is ridiculous," I said. "It's coming to an end right now."

  I marched out of her room and went to my bedroom to call Nelson.

  "I have something I want you to do," I said when he was called to the phone.

  "What?"

  "Come to my office tomorrow at eleven."

  "I have appointments too, Olivia. I can't just drop clients like that," he pleaded.

  "All right," I said softening. "When can you come?"

  "I'm free between two and three."

  "Good," I said.

  I hung up and thought for a moment. I wasn't breaking my promise to Daddy, I concluded. I was keeping it. My conscience was clear. As I left the room, I paused at the nursery. Thelma had Haille in her arms and was rocking her to sleep.

  "She's a beautiful child, Mrs. Logan," she said.

  "I know."

  "Belinda will be all right," she added. "I'm sure. Once she realizes what a wonderful little girl she has, she'll be fine."

  "We'll see," I said and went downstairs to tell Samuel what I thought had to be done. He was upset and tried to talk me out of it, but I was confident.

  The next day Nelson arrived at my office at two-thirty. Samuel was not yet back from a lunch meeting so Nelson and I were alone. He came in, closed the door and sat on the sofa across from my desk.

  "Is this the way it will be forever now, Olivia? You summon me and I come?" he asked, his eyes glaring like two orbs of glass with candles behind them.

  "I called you to meet with me because I need your help now, Nelson," I said and the disgusted smirk left his face to be replaced with an expression of deep concern.

  "I see. What is it?"

  "It's Belinda," I said. "She's not getting much better. We both underestimated the traumatic experience she has undergone," I continued, rising from my chair to come around the desk and lean against it. He followed me with his eyes.

  "I don't understand," he said.

  "You remember I told you she was having emotional problems after giving birth?"

  "Yes, but I know that not to be uncommon . . ."

  "I don't need a lecture about maternal problems. This is a more serious mental illness, Nelson. She's become . . . a burden on top of everything else."

  "I warned you, Olivia. I told you keeping the baby was . . ."

  "I'm not talking about the baby, Nelson. I'm talking about my work, my business, my social obligations. The baby is not a problem. Belinda is a problem."

  "Do you want me to recommend a good doctor?"

  "I want you to do more," I said. "You're a judge now. I want you to sign a commitment order. She needs to be institutionalized."

  "What? You're joking. Institutionalized?"

  "She needs serious mental treatment. She always has. This is just the last straw. My parents never wanted to admit it to themselves, but Belinda has always been unstable. Now she's practically a lunatic."

  "But you haven't even had her properly diagnosed, Olivia," he protested.

  "I don't expect any other conclusion anyway, Nelson. I want you to help me with this, make it smooth. There's a clinic nearby. She'll be comfortable there; only there's a waiting list a mile long. I need you to use your political influence to get her in next week."

  "Next week!"

  "Do what has to be done and call me with results," I said.

  "I won't do it," he said defiantly.

  I smiled at him.

  "Won't you? You're going to shirk your responsibility?"

  "I'm not shirking anything, but . . ."

  "You know why she's this way, who did it to her. You didn't just impregnate my sister and produce an illegitimate child; you've caused a terrible mental problem. I should just give up and let everyone know everything," I declared. "I'm sick of covering for everyone's weaknesses."

  I returned to my desk chair and stared down at the desk.

  "Olivia, are you sure about this?" he asked softly.

  "It's the best thing for her and for us right now," I said. "It's not easy to do the right thing, Nelson, but I've always been able to do it anyway."

  "Always?"

  "Yes," I said meeting his gaze. "Are you going to take care of it for me?"

  "It might damage her even more severely, Olivia."

  "You mean more than she has been damaged, Nelson?" I asked pointedly. He tried to hold my gaze and then he lowered his eyes and nodded.

  "All right," he said softly. "I'll take care of it."

  "It's better for everyone, even her," I said. "You'll see."

  He stood and held a small smile on his lips as he gazed at me.

  "Why are you smiling?"

  "I was just thinking, what was it they called you in school, Miss Cold?"

  "Yes, and Belinda was Miss Hot. Which one of us was better off?" I challenged.

  "That's something you'll have to answer for yourself," he said and left to do what I wanted.

  Epilogue

  .

  Confused, I paused outside of Belinda's

  bedroom door. She was laughing and talking with great animation, but I knew she had no visitor and I also knew I had not had her phone reconnected. She laughed again. I opened the door slowly--and gazed at her seated at her table, the phone receiver pinched between her shoulder and her head as she polished her fingernails.

  "Belinda?" I said and she turned, swinging her eyes up at me.

  "Oh, sorry, Arnold, my sister just walked in. I have to hang up. Call me tomorrow," she said. "I'll be waiting," she sang and cradled the receiver.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, my heart pounding.

  "Just talking to some friends," she said. "I know, I know. I spend too much time on the phone. Don't go running to Daddy," she said. "Don't you like this color, Olivia?" She showed me her fingernails. Her right hand had a dark red and her left had more of a pink. "I'm going to do my toenails in it, too. Quin thinks it's hysterical. Why do girls do their toenails? he asks.

  Hardly anyone ever gets to see them, he says. But that's not true. Lots of times I walk barefoot or I wear sandals or . . oh dear," she s
uddenly said. "I'm sorry."

  "What?"

  She picked up the phone again.

  "Hello. I can't talk now, Louise. Can you call me in an hour? Thanks." She hung up. "So," she said turning back to me, "what's up?"

  "I hope you didn't forget that you were leaving today, Belinda."

  She blinked rapidly and then smiled.

  "Oh no, I didn't forget, but I haven't had a chance to do much packing, Olivia. Don't start chastising me. It wasn't my fault. This phone hasn't stopped ringing since everyone heard I was going on holiday. They're actually all jealous."

  "The car is here, Belinda. Don't worry about your things. I'll have them sent," I said.

  "Oh, will you? Thank you, thank you. I really do appreciate how efficient and reliable you are, Olivia. Most people would kill for a sister like you looking after them all the time. Well," she said looking around. She stood up. "I guess I'd better put on my jacket then. I decided to wear the light blue coat. It's good for traveling, comfortable and easy to keep," she said and went to the closet.

  I watched her put on her jacket and then look at herself in the mirror to fluff her hair. I must have seen her do that a thousand times, I thought. She smiled, content with her appearance.

  "I guess we can't keep my driver waiting any longer. I'm ready," she said.

  I stepped out of the room and she followed.

  "I didn't get to everyone, Olivia, so a lot of my friends will still be calling. I know it's a bore, but you'll tell them where I am, won't you?"

  "Yes, don't worry about it," I said.

  "Good."

  She went down the stairs with a light bounce in her step and paused at the door to wait for me to catch up.

  "You look so sad today, Olivia. You wish you were coming along, don't you? Why don't you? You can stop working for a while," she said. "We could have fun together, be real sisters for a change, just doing silly things."

  "I'll follow later, Belinda," I said.

  "Will you? Good," she replied and we walked out. The nurse was waiting at the car. She opened the door and looked at me in anticipation.

  "Everything's fine," I said. She nodded and turned to Belinda.

  "Hello, Belinda," she said. "My name is Clara."

  "I love your hair. Is that your natural color?" Belinda asked her. She smiled at me.

  "Yes, it is."

  "I've been thinking about changing my color." Belinda got into the rear of the limousine.

  Clara turned to me.

  "Everything's all set, Mrs. Logan," she said. "We'll be fine."

  "Thank you. I'll come by tomorrow," I said. "If there are any problems . ."

  "There won't be," she assured me. Then she got into the limousine.

  "Oh, Olivia?"

  I lowered my head and looked in at Belinda. "Yes?"

  "I almost forgot. There's a letter on my desk to be mailed out. I wrote to Adam Franklin. Finally. He keeps writing and writing and sending me presents. Would you see that it's mailed?"

  "Yes, Belinda."

  "Thanks." She looked at Clara. "If you want something done, you ask Olivia," she said.

  "I'll see you soon, Belinda."

  She smiled and I closed the door. The limousine started away. I stood there watching it disappear down the drive and then I went into the house.

  Thelma was feeding Haille, and Chester was running through the house behind Jacob. They were pretending to be a railroad train.

  "I'm the caboose and Jacob's the engine, Mommy," Chester cried as they passed me.

  "Be careful, Jacob."

  He gazed back at me with that serious face, his eyes telling me how unnecessary it was to give any admonition. They disappeared down the corridor.

  I went upstairs and looked in Belinda's room. There was no letter on the desk. She had written one, I was sure, but she had written it three or four years ago. For a while I just stood there gazing at her things. I suddenly felt very tired. I was happy I had decided to take the whole day off. The last few days had been trying, going up to the clinic, making the

  arrangements, doing what had to be done.

  I wouldn't make any changes in the room. I was sure Belinda would go in and out of that clinic for some time. I closed the door behind me and went downstairs, deciding to go out back and sit for a while, and do something I hadn't done for some time: relax.

  It was a crystal clear, beautiful day with the air just crisp and cool enough because of the light sea breeze. Across the sky long clouds looked stretched and wispy. A pair of herons circled above and then dove beyond the hill. Just on the horizon, an oil tanker headed northeast and off left, I saw a yacht much like ours approaching the Cape. The whitecaps glistened in the afternoon sunshine. The water was a dark, silvery blue.

  I sat for some time just looking out at the sea. I was so deep in thought I didn't hear Samuel come home and come out to find me.

  "Well?" he asked standing at the foot of the gazebo. "Well what?"

  "How did it go?"

  "It went well," I said. "As I expected it would."

  "Did you call to see how she's doing?"

  "No, not yet. They need time and they don't need us annoying them."

  "When do you intend on visiting?" he asked. "Samuel, she's just gone today. I think we need to give them time to work with her, don't you?"

  "It's just . . . I feel sorry for her," he said.

  "You've Or to control your emotions if you want to do what's best for people you love," I said.

  He looked at me with sudden interest.

  "Funny," he said, "I never think of you as loving Belinda."

  "Of course I love her. She's my sister, isn't she?" I said.

  He nodded and gazed at the sea, too.

  "Nelson called. He wanted to know how it was going." "Generous of him," I said.

  "He really is filled with remorse, Olivia."

  "You're breaking my heart," I said grimacing. Samuel laughed.

  "Nelson calls you the Iron Lady of the Cape now."

  "I'm not interested in what he calls me," I said. Samuel smiled at me. "I'm not."

  "Okay," he said. "I'm going in to take a shower and get ready for dinner."

  "I'll be in soon," I said.

  "That Haille . . I swear she's smiling already when she looks up at me. She's going to be a charmer," he remarked.

  "I have no doubt," I said.

  He went into the house and the breeze became a little stronger. I thought I could hear the boys shouting and laughing. In the days and years to come, they would all be playing on this lawn, I thought, the three of them growing up as one family.

  "I'm right. I know I'm right," I muttered to myself. I thought if Daddy were here, he would agree. Even Mother would agree, although she wouldn't want to talk about it.

  Someday, I thought, Nelson would realize all that I had done for him and he would be more grateful. He might even come to love me for who I was and not resent me. I felt confident of that.

  Why did I feel so sad though? If I was right, why wasn't I feeling more satisfied?

  I was a very successful and powerful

  businesswoman. I had my sons and I had Nelson's daughter. Wouldn't everything be just what I wanted it to be?

  If I could only see the future, just get one glimpse and be absolutely sure, wouldn't it be wonderful? However, that was impossible. That was like believing in magic, I thought.

  I remembered once when I was a little girl I had picked up a seashell, put it to my ear as Daddy instructed, and heard the roar of the ocean.

  "How could the ocean be in a seashell, Daddy?" I asked.

  "It's not in there. The seashell is like ears that hold the ocean's roar," he told me. "Then, at night, the roar escapes and returns to the sea."

  I laughed.

  "That's silly, Daddy."

  "No, Olivia, it's true. The roar you hear is the roar that sounded a hundred years ago. It's the ocean's voice, captured. If you listen really hard, you might even hear a sea gull's c
ry."

  Skeptical, I listened again and I thought I had. My eyes widened with surprise.

  "Believe in something magical, Olivia. We all need to believe in something magical," he advised.

  He took my hand and we continued down the beach. I held on to the seashell and then I dropped it in the darkness.

  All my life, I thought, I would be searching for it.

 

 

  V. C. Andrews, Olivia

  (Series: Logan # 5)

 

 

 

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