Music in the Night

  a profanity.

  Everything always looked brand new to me.

  Every piece of metal glittered, as did every piece of

  glass. The windows were so clean, you couldn't tell if

  they were open or closed unless you walked right up

  to them.

  Grandma Olivia was in her high-back chair

  looking like a queen granting an audience when we

  entered the sitting room. She wore an elegant rose silk

  dress with a large cameo above her left breast, a piece we knew was an heirloom, handed down from her grandmother on her father's side. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun with a pearl comb decorated with

  small diamonds.

  Grandpa Samuel sat rather casually compared

  to Grandma Olivia. He had his legs crossed, a tall

  glass of whiskey and soda in his hand. He wore a light

  brown suit and looked his usual dapper self. His face

  broke into a wide, warm smile as soon as we entered

  the room.

  "Here they are," he declared, "and a pretty

  handsome and beautiful group of grandchildren, too,

  hey Nelson?"

  Judge Childs nodded. He sat across from

  Grandpa Samuel on Grandma Olivia's right side. The

  Judge was a distinguished-looking, elderly man with

  gray hair shot through with some of his original light

  brown color. It was neatly trimmed and parted on the

  right side. He wore a dark blue suit and a bow tie.

  Despite his age, I thought he was still a rather

  handsome man. His face was full and his complexion

  robust, with wrinkles only across his forehead. He had

  light brown eyes that dazzled with a glow more

  characteristic of a man half his age.

  "Absolutely, Samuel. You and Olivia are very

  lucky people. Hello, Jacob, Sara," the Judge said. Mommy nodded and smiled.

  "We've got Bloody Marys, if you like,"

  Grandpa said.

  "No thank you," Daddy said quickly.

  "I know you like Blood Marys, Sara," Grandpa

  followed, with a twinkle in his eyes. Mommy glanced

  quickly at Daddy, who was as close to a scowl as

  could be.

  "Oh, I don't think so, just yet, Pa," she replied. "When are you going to loosen up that collar

  you have around your wife's neck, Jacob?" Grandpa

  said, and the Judge smiled.

  "That's an inappropriate remark," Grandma

  Olivia declared. "Especially in front of the children,"

  she added firmly. "Loretta," she snapped, "please take

  the children into the kitchen and give them some

  lemonade while we wait for brunch to be served." "Yes, ma'am," Loretta said.

  Grandma Olivia thought it was inappropriate

  for young people to sit and listen to the older people

  converse. While we were standing in the doorway

  beside and behind Mommy and Daddy, she had been

  looking us over. She nodded at Daddy.

  "The children look very nice," she offered Mommy, who beamed immediately. "Now don't go wandering outside and getting messed up," she called after us. "We'll call you to the dining room in a little while. Sit down, Jacob. You're making me nervous

  standing there like that. Sara."

  They moved quickly and Loretta led us away.

  She gave us the lemonade and then, as we had done

  many times before, we went out back to the gazebo.

  Cary stood staring out toward the ocean while I

  entertained May. Finally, he turned to me, his eyes

  narrowed as if he were in pain.

  "You go down a dirt road like that your first

  date with a guy. It doesn't look nice. It makes you

  look like . . . look like . . an easy target," he said. "I

  just knew he was going to do that; I just knew it," he

  claimed and turned back toward the sea.

  "First, I'm not an easy target, Cary Logan. I

  don't do what I don't want to do and we didn't do

  anything wrong, for your information. Robert is a

  complete gentleman."

  "Ha," he said.

  "You don't know him, Cary."

  "You'll see," Cary predicted. "Tomorrow they'll

  be chattering about you in the locker room and Royce

  will be bragging about how easy you were." "He will not! And it's dreadful of you to say

  that he would. You're just . . just jealous," I accused.

  His shoulders stiffened and he turned, his face turning

  pink.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You don't have a girlfriend and you don't go

  out on dates, so--"

  "So what?"

  "So, you're jealous that I do."

  "Dates," he said, curling up the right corner of

  his mouth. "Some dates."

  I realized that May had been reading my lips

  and watching my face. She looked very confused. I

  tried smiling at her, but she turned and looked at Cary,

  her eyebrows raising as she gazed at me again. She

  didn't see us argue often.

  "We'll talk about it later," I said.

  "There's nothing to talk about," Cary retorted. "Why did you follow us?"

  "Why?" He shook his head. "I went to the

  dance to see what it was like and then, when I saw

  you two leave early, I just knew I had better keep my

  eye on you. Lucky for you, I did. I can't believe you

  have the nerve to question me. If it weren't for me,

  you wouldn't have made it home in time for curfew." "You've got to let me--"

  "Let you what, Laura? Go on. What?" "Grow up," I said.

  He stared, blinking rapidly, and then turned to

  the ocean again.

  "I appreciate your concern, but I need my

  space, too, Cary."

  "Fine," he said through gritted teeth.

  He spun around and glared at the house, his

  anger spilling over like water boiling out of a pot. "I

  don't know why we have to wait around for them to

  stop gossiping. I'm hungry. We hardly had anything

  for breakfast this morning."

  "So, go tell-Grandma," I challenged.

  He pounded up the steps to the door, nearly

  ripping it off the hinges when he pulled it open. May

  tugged on my hand and started to sign her questions. "Cary's hungry," I explained. "He wants to see

  how much longer before we eat."

  She stared after him and then glanced at me, her

  suspicious eyes small and troubled. I lowered my

  shoulders in defeat. Why did my most wonderful, new

  relationship have to bring such sadness? Why couldn't

  Cary be happy for me? I was near tears and had to

  turn away from May before she saw my sadness. Whatever Cary did inside sped things along,

  because a few moments later, Loretta appeared to say

  it was time we came in to eat.

  It was as wonderful a brunch as ever, with

  chunks of lobster in Alfredo sauce, shrimp cocktail,

  delicious home fries, salads filled with almost every

  vegetable imaginable, and as usual, great desserts,

  including my favorite, the multilayered, multicolored

  petit fours.

  Afterward, the men went for their walk along

  the beach, Judge Childs and Grandpa lighting up their

  cigars. They took Cary along with Daddy, and

  Mommy, May, and I were left behind with Grandma

  Olivia.

  Mommy started to tell Grandma about my date

&
nbsp; and how pretty I looked, when Grandma suddenly

  rose from her chair.

  "I'd like to speak with Laura," she said,

  interrupting Mommy in midsentence, "if you don't

  mind, Sara."

  "What? Oh. No. Why should I mind?" Mommy

  stuttered and gazed about the big room helplessly.

  Grandma Olivia was already to the door of the sitting

  room.

  "Come along, Laura," she commanded. I looked at Mommy, who only shook her head, her eyes wide with surprise. I caught up with Grandma in the

  hallway, heading toward the back door.

  "Why can't Mommy hear what we say,

  Grandma?" I asked nervously.

  "We'll go out to the gazebo," she replied,

  ignoring my question. "I need some air and a little

  walk after that meal anyway," she said.

  "It was a terrific brunch, Grandma."

  "The coleslaw was rather bitter this time," she

  complained. We left the house, walked down the

  pathway to the gazebo, and sat on the bench. "Mommy and May should come out, too," I

  said. "It's so beautiful, hardly a cloud in the sky." I gazed down the beach and saw the four men

  walking, little puffs of smoke from Grandpa's and

  Judge Childs's mouths caught and dissipated in the

  breeze. Cary was a few steps behind the adults, his

  head down.

  "We'll send for them in a moment," Grandma

  Olivia said. "Now that you are obviously becoming a

  young woman with a woman's . . interests, I thought it

  was time we had a little talk, Laura. I don't mean to

  interfere, but I don't think your mother is prepared for

  this sort of discussion," she added.

  "What kind of a discussion is that, Grandma?" "A woman-to-woman discussion," she replied,

  "where one woman has vast experience and wisdom

  to give to another, younger woman. Although she

  would have the same good intentions, your mother

  doesn't have my background, my breeding. She's not

  as aware of the dangers."

  "Dangers?"

  I stopped smiling and sat back. I suddenly felt

  as if my wonderful brunch had all tightened into a

  small, hard ball at the base of my stomach.

  "I don't understand, Grandma. What dangers?" "You're interested in someone, I understand,

  and you've actually gone out on a formal date with

  this person?" she began, her eyes small, but fixed on

  me with that same intensity that stopped laughter and

  wiped smiles off faces.

  "Oh," I said with some relief. "Yes. He's a very

  nice young man. His name's--"

  "I know his name," she said quickly. "I know of

  his family and what they do. I know he's been to your

  home for lunch and you went to the school dance with

  him last night."

  My eyes widened with surprise. I smiled at

  Grandma Olivia's interest in my social life. She had never asked any questions about it before or cared whether I had gone to a school dance or not. I always thought that sort of thing wasn't significant enough to

  matter to her.

  "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to tell you

  about him, Grandma," I told her. Finally, she and I

  would have a nice grandmother-granddaughter talk, I

  thought, and imagined she wanted to tell me about her

  own childhood romances.

  "There isn't much that goes on in this town that

  I don't know and there is nothing that involves my

  family and the family name that I won't eventually

  find out about," she declared. "I may not discuss it

  with you, but I know how well you're doing in school

  and how much your teachers like you. I know how

  you are a great help to your mother, and how you've

  been a respectful, obedient daughter. That's why I

  think it's so important we have this conversation," she

  continued.

  I widened my smile and nodded.

  "You're much too young to get deeply involved

  with any one young man, especially one who comes

  from a family of some questionable character." "What?" The little bubble of delight that had

  started to fill within me suddenly popped.

  "Don't interrupt, Laura. Just listen and learn.

  The Logans, and my family, the Gordons, go back to

  the Pilgrims, as you know. We have a strong, highly

  respected lineage. We are looked up to in this

  community; we are people of worth, status, and that

  brings with it more responsibility. We have been and

  remain models of proper behavior, models of

  respectability. My father taught me years and years

  ago that the first and most important and valuable

  thing you own is your reputation.

  "You and Cary have been born with a gift. That

  gift is your family name. You've inherited literally

  hundreds of years of highly valued reputation. It will

  open doors for you, gain you respect, and place you

  high on the ladder of status, but you have a big

  responsibility, Laura, and that responsibility is to

  uphold the respectability, the value of our family

  name.

  "Because of that," she continued, "there is a

  magnifying glass over you and your actions." She

  flashed a cold smile. "Up until now, you have done

  nothing even to slightly tarnish our family name, and

  I'd like to keep it that way. I want you to immediately

  end this acquaintance. These people are not up to your

  standard," she concluded. "I intend to discuss it with your father before the day is over as well," she said.

  She sat back, obviously waiting for my reaction. For a moment I thought the words would get

  caught in my throat and my voice wouldn't work.

  Despite the silvery, soft breeze blowing in from the

  ocean, I felt as though I had fallen into a furnace. My

  face was flushed, my heart, although pounding,

  seemed to have sunken in my chest, the thump, thump,

  thump barely felt through my body. I shook my head. "I don't know what you've been told, Grandma,

  but it's all a mistake. Robert Royce is a very, very nice

  young man, Grandma. He--"

  "He comes from a family of innkeepers," she

  said, practically spitting out the words, as if they were

  bitter in her mouth. "Do you know what an innkeeper

  is, Laura? How they started to be? These are people

  who had nothing, no family name, no reputation.

  Practically destitute, they open their own homes to

  strangers, clean up after them, wash their toilets and

  sinks, serve them food, cater to the wishes of

  complete and utter strangers, and worst of all, they

  contribute, are responsible for the pollution and destruction of the Cape.

  "Fine homes, beautiful landscapes are all being

  marred by these . . . these motel and hotel chains. Anyone who can afford the price of a cheap bed can come here and enjoy what we, who built this, who founded it, created and made elegant. You have no business consorting with someone of that ilk, Laura. I absolutely forbid you to continue seeing this . . . this

  person. He will only bring you down."

  "Please, Grandma," I said, choking back my

  tears, "don't talk like that:'

  She tightened her lips.

  "You must get a hold of yourself, Laura. You

  must become
mature, strong, beat down any foolish

  little lusts and remember who you are.

  "Unfortunately," she said with a deep sigh,

  "we've already had a terrible time maintaining our

  family honor because of my sister and your Uncle

  Chester, but that has been remedied. We don't need

  something else to disgrace us and weaken our family's

  reputation."

  "Remedied? Your son has left the family. We're

  not permitted to mention his name in your presence. I

  don't understand all of it, Grandma. You never talk

  about him, but don't you ever miss him?"

  "He made a choice and one that is unfortunately

  best for everyone," she said sternly. "I'm not here to

  discuss the dead. I'm here to discuss you, the living." "The dead?"

  "Laura," she said firmly, "do you understand

  what I've been trying to tell you?"

  "No, Grandma, I don't. I just met Robert. I like

  him. He's been very nice to me and we had a

  wonderful time at the school dance. I didn't agree to

  marry him . . . yet," I said, and her eyebrows rose so

  fast and so high, I thought they might leave her face. "You would never marry such a person," she

  stated, her fear and anxiety deepening the lines in her

  face.

  "I don't judge people by their bank accounts,

  Grandma," I said. I meant it as a matter of fact, but

  she pulled her head back as if I had reached across the

  gazebo and slapped her.

  "I don't either, Laura. That's the point I'm trying

  to make and the point you're missing. Many of these

  so-called nouveaux riches are resort businesspeople.

  They have money, but they don't have class or

  reputation. They never will, no matter how fat their

  bank accounts become."

  "But . . . didn't you ever like anyone who wasn't

  from an old and respectable family, Grandma? Not

  even when you were growing up?"

  "Of course not," she said. "I wouldn't permit

  myself to like someone like that."

  "That's not something you can permit yourself

  to do and not to do, Grandma," I said, smiling. "It's

  something magical. Surely, when you were my age--

  "

  "I was never a foolish young woman, Laura,

  never like any of these empty-headed girls nowadays.

  My father wouldn't have tolerated it anyway,

  especially with my sister being such a disgrace. It