Eye of the Storm (5 page)

"That's a determined young woman," he said. "If there wasn't so much at stake.
I
could let myself admire her."
He groaned and stood up. I could hear my mother sniffle. "Too late for tears," Victoria spit at her.
I continued to the kitchen and started making the coffee. I heard the front door open and close and thought they had all just walked out, but a moment later, my mother appeared in the kitchen doorway.
She smiled and gazed around.
"It's so hard to come here and not see my mother." she said. Her dark eyes skipped nervously about the kitchen, "Even now, I expect her to appear, maybe come in through the French doors, wearing one of those ridiculous garden hats."
"I miss her," I said.
My mother nodded. "I know you do."
Our eyes met. How I wished we could love each other like a mother and a daughter should.
"Why are you letting Victoria tell you what to do?" I asked her.
"Victoria has always been the practical one, the sensible one. Rain. Maybe that was because she had a different upbringing, a different kind of education. My father didn't send her to boarding school for the rich, nor did he have her sent to a girls' finishing school. She went to business college and learned about stocks and bonds and options and such stuff. whereas I was taught polite rules of social etiquette, things to prepare me for high society. Maybe that was why
I
was so rebellious in college. I wasn't taught anything practical. I was designed to marry someone like Grant and always have a husband to take care of me and make these sort of decisions.
"Please think more about all this, honey. We really could be something of a family you know." Her teary eyes were beseeching, her soft smile trying to assure me that a pot of gold waited at the end of this soon-to-be rainbow.
I sighed. for I would so much like to be the eternal optimist. but I didn't believe in the magic of rainbows, especially the ones she promised.
"You shouldn't have brought me here. Mother, Grandmother Hudson was one of the few people in my life who loved me and whom I loved. Love means honoring and respecting someone. too. She taught me that. I won't take her wishes and plans for me and tear it all up just to satisfy your sister. She never loved Grandmother Hudson as much as I did in the short time I was able to know her."
Unwilling to deny that, my mother nodded.
"I didn't need to see what she had done with her will to know how much she loved you. Rain."
"Then you should understand," I said. I turned away but she walked over to me.
"You're a good girl, Rain. I truly wish only good things for you.
I want you to be happy and put all this behind you. Be sensible. You'd be better off away from all of us anyway," she said sadly.
She hugged me quickly and then started out, stopping in the doorway.
"Call me if you need me." she said.
I watched her walk down the hallway and out the door.
"That call was made a long time ago, Mother," I muttered after she had left.
"And you never answered."

3
Riding the Wind
.
The telephone rang so early the next morning.
I

thought it was ringing in my dreams. Whoever was calling didn't give up. Finally, my eyelids unglued and
I
realized
I
wasn't imagining it. As
I
reached over for the phone.
I
looked at the clock and saw it was only five-thirty.

"Hello."
I
said, my voice so groggy and deep.
I
thought someone else had said it for me.
"Rain?"
I
heard.
"Is
that you?"
I
scrubbed my cheek with my palm and pulled myself up in the bed.
"Roy?"
"I'm
sorry
I'm
calling you so early there, but it's the only chance I'll have, maybe for days," he said, "How are you?"'
"Five minutes. Arnold,"
I
heard someone growl behind him.
"Roy, where are you?"
"I'm
here. in Germany, of course. What's happening now? Are you going right back to England? Did you talk to your real
mother? Does everyone know about you? I mean, who you really are and all?" He was rattling his questions off quickly, hoping to stuff a lot of information into those measly five minutes. I thought.
Of course, for most of our lives. Roy and I had believed we were brother and sister. Anyone who really cared to take the time and interest could have looked at him, at me and at Beneatha and challenge that. I guess. My features were so different from Roy and Bentatha's, but for us the thought that Mama Arnold could have had me with a different man was just about as far-fetched as believing we had aliens from Mars or someplace living next door. And there was no way a poor black family would adopt another child. Ken, who never really wanted to be a father in the first place, often complained and said. The devil gives us children to drive us to drink.' Roy told him he didn't need any devil for that. He knew how to drive himself better than any devil could.
Ken and Roy fought a lot, and until Roy grew taller and stronger. Ken battered him around often. Toward the end of our lives in Washington. Roy began to stand up to him and then there were some really nasty fights, which nearly shattered Mama's fragile heart. Roy's love for her was about all that kept him in check-- and his love for me.
Once Roy found out I wasn't his blood sister, he confessed his romantic love for me, but it was impossible for me to think of him as anything but my brother. I told him so many times. Up
until the moment the truth about me was revealed, he was my big brother, my protector. I knew and Beneatha knew he favored me over her. but I tried to make light of all that and made excuses for him whenever I could. After Beneatha's violent death at the hands of gang members. Mama Arnold wanted to get both of us out of the projects more than anything. She encouraged Roy to enlist in the army and she left to live with her aunt, never telling Roy or me just how sick she really was.
Apart from each other for some time afterward. Roy and I met again when he came to visit me in London. For a while, lost and confused myself. I seriously considered that we could become man and wife. I let him make love to me almost as a way of testing the waters, but it still didn't feel right. I knew I was breaking his heart. but I couldn't get myself to change. Perhaps what fate had done to us was cruel, yet I also thought what we might do to each other could be worse.
"No, not everyone, not yet," I said. "My mother's husband knows, of course, but the community here doesn't know it all and my half brother and half sister still don't know."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. Roy. It's up to my mother and her husband to tell them."
"They're still ashamed of you. Rain. That's why," he said.
"Probably."
"Who's taking care of you? Is your mother doing that at least?"
"No," I said. "but remember I told you Grandmother Hudson put me in her will?"
"Yeah. sure. How much did she leave you?"
"A lot, Roy."
"A lot? How much?"
"It's in the millions. Roy," I said.
"Huh? Dollars?"
"Yes," I said laughing, "I own a majority share of the property, a portfolio and fifty percent of the business."
"Wow."
"But the family isn't happy about it and they're talking about taking me and the will to court. They want me to compromise and take a million dollars.'" "They do? What are you going to do?" "Fight," I said.
"Fight? Maybe you ought to just take the money and run. Rain. Why force yourself on a family that doesn't want you?" he asked.
It was a good question, of course. What did I want out of all this finally? Maybe what I wanted was to see the day when they had to accept me just so that day I could turn my back on them. Pride was rearing up like a magnificent horse.
"Okay. Arnold, hang up," I heard that person growl again.
"Where are you. Roy? Why is someone telling you to hang up? Roy?"
"I'm all right," he said.
"You did get in trouble for coming to see me in London, didn't you? You better tell me the truth. Roy Arnold,"
I
ordered.
"All right. I did, but it doesn't mean nothing," he said.
"Are you in the clink?'
He laughed.
"Something like that. Don't worry about it. IT put in my time and then I'll be coming home. I'll be coming back for you. Rain. I promise," he said.

"Self-pity is just a fancy way of avoiding responsibility," Grandmother Hudson used to say. "Replace it with good old
fashioned raw anger and defiance and you'll get further in your life," she advised.

"I hear you Grandmother," I muttered under the blanket. Some people are so influential, their voices echo in your head years and years after they've gone Grandmother Hudson was certainly one of them.

I threw the blanket back and rose to shower, dress and make myself some breakfast. While I sat there sipping coffee, I decided to write my real father a letter and see if he would write back and give me some advice.

Dear Daddy.,
As you know I returned to Virginia to attend Grandmother Hudson's funeral. I told my mother I had met you and she was very interested in how you reacted. I also told her about your wonderful family.
She, my stepfather, and Aunt Victoria are very upset about the amount Grandmother Hudson has left me in her will. They want me to compromise and take less or they, mostly Victoria, I think, will take me and the will to court to challenge everything,
I don't believe Grandmother Hudson would want me to compromise. Maybe I'm just being stubborn about it and in the end,I'll regret it, but for now, I have said no. My attorney, Grandmother Hudson's attorney, doesn't think I have to compromise either, but I know that sometimes lawyers drag things into courts to make more money for themselves. At least, Grant, my mother's husband, who is a lawyer too, is saying that. He thinks the legal fees will be so big, we'd be better off compromising.
Anyway, all this could delay my return to London. What do you think about it? Do you think I should just take what they want to give me and run, leave them and this place forever and ever?
I suppose it's unfair to ask you anything and put you on the spot. I want you to know I'm not in any way expecting you to do anything for me. It's just nice to have someone I can trust to write to and listen to now.
I hope everyone is well. I'll let you know what I finally do decide and
when I will be returning.
Love, Rain
I considered signing
it
your daughter, Rain, but thought it was best to just write my name. I addressed it and got it ready to send.
Just before noon I heard the doorbell. Of course. Corbette hadn't even bothered to call me back to let me know about the restaurant and our dinner date. but I hadn't expected he would. Now, I wondered if he had decided to return in person, maybe thinking I was still worth seducing again.
My mouth opened with surprise when I discovered it was Aunt Victoria. Since when had she decided she would ring the doorbell instead of just burst right in?
"I'd like to speak with you," she said.
It was partly cloudy and cooler, so she wore a dark blue woolen knee-length coat over her gray business suit. She was wearing a pair of black leather gloves as well. Her hair, which normally was simply brushed back with a slight wave that looked like a last-minute thought, was neater, more styled. I noticed that she was wearing some makeup, including a brighter pink lipstick. It actually softened her face and when it did that. I did see more resemblances to Jake.
"I thought we had said everything yesterday," I replied.
"No. May I come in or are you just going to keep me out here?"
"Come in." I said with a slight shrug.
She entered and pulled off her gloves. "Do you have any coffee on?"
"Coffee? Yes," I said, even more surprised. "Good."
I just stood there for a moment and she raised her eyebrows. "You want to have it in the breakfast nook?" I asked,
"Fine," she said and walked down the corridor quickly, her heavy, square-heeled shoes clicking like the taps of a tiny hammer. She was so long-legged that when she walked, her feet seemed to have a slight snap each time she took a step.
I hurried to the kitchen and got out a cup and saucer.
"What was it like working for my aunt and uncle in London?" she asked, taking off her coat and placing it on a chair.
"It wasn't very pleasant," I said. "They have this slave master. Mr. Boggs, who runs the house like a military operation. He actually has a drill with white gloves, checking on the dusting and polishing."
"It doesn't surprise me,' she said. "The one time I was there. I couldn't wait to leave. Do they still have that silly little cottage in the back kept like some sort of a mausoleum filled with Heather's toys?"
I froze for a moment.

"Of course." she said. "When I was there. I was almost burned at the stake for daring to enter it."
"Yes, it's still there," I said. I poured her a cup of coffee. "Milk?"
"Thank you," she said.
Was it my imagination or was dreadful Aunt Victoria behaving like a human being toward me?
I poured myself a cup and sat across from her.
"I know." she began. "that I look like the bad one here. It was always that way. Whenever a problem arose and a hard, but important, decision had to be made, your mother would go sailing off someplace and leave it all to me. So naturally, I was the one people resented. Even my own mother resented me," she complained, her voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.
It occurred to me that I hadn't seen her cry at Grandmother Hudson's funeral, not even a single tear. She was the one supervising the arrangements, making sure it was all perfectly coordinated down to where cars would be parked at the cemetery. My mother sobbed and with reddened eyes greeted people, hugged people and let people hug her. Victoria seemed
aloof and in charge riot only of the details of the funeral, but her own emotions as well.
"I loved her in my own way, when I was permitted to love her. As you know from the short time you were here, my mother was a very strong, domineering woman. She hated compromise and was intolerant of failure and stupidity. I thought she would love me more for being more like her than Megan was, but do you know what. Rain? I've come to the conclusion my mother didn't like herself very much. That's right," she said when I widened my eyes. "at the end of her life, she had decided she didn't and that's why she favored you so quickly and with such uncharacteristic charity.
"Maybe she saw you as a third daughter, someone not as weak as Megan, but someone not as strong as me. Maybe you were more like the daughter she wished she had. I thought about this all night last night, trying to understand why she had left you so much of our family's fortune and that's what I have concluded."
She sipped her coffee and gazed out the window for a long moment. Had I misjudged her? Was I as unfair and unsympathetic as I accused her of being?
"As you witnessed for yourself yesterday, my sister isn't going to be any great help to you or to this unpleasant situation we all find ourselves in," she continued. "Frankly. I'm tired of doing all the dirty work in this family. I have my own ambitions and interests. too.
"Therefore. I've decided to declare a trace between us, if you are amenable."
"A truce?"
"Grant's right. We don't need to fill the pockets of lawyers, who in the end, will benefit the most from any family dispute." she explained. "For good or for worse, my mother decided that you and I would become partners of sorts. I will continue to make money for the family business and you will benefit from it. How does all this sound so far?'
"All right," I said cautiously. I felt like someone waiting for the second shoe to drop. "What do I have to do?"
"Do? There's nothing for you to do. You can return to the life you want. I imagine you want to go back to England, isn't that so?"
"Yes," I said.
"Well then, what we'll do is simply put up the house and property for sale and invest the profits."
"I don't know," I said.
"You don't know?"
"This house. I keep thinking how important it was to
Grandmother Hudson."
"Yes, it was, but she's gone and there's the upkeep to think about now. How can a girl like you think about staying here indefinitely?"
"A girl like me?'
"Young with your whole life ahead of you." she replied. "You can't want all this worry, especially if you plan on being in England."
"I suppose that's true," I said.
'Of course, it's true. Everyone has his or her destiny to fulfill. Mine, for better or for worse, was to walk in my father's footsteps for a while and then fill those footsteps when he was gone. I've done well for the family. Mother never wanted to admit it and give me credit. She was old school and had this old fashioned idea that women don't belong in the world of business. In her day strong women were content subtly manipulating their husbands like puppets, remaining hidden in the background. behind the curtain of what was considered proper and what was not.
"I recall how she thought it was so unfeminine of me to be interested in stocks and bonds. Mother died not really knowing the difference between a junk bond and a municipal."
"I don't know the difference,," I confessed.
"Just my point. And why it is so important we get along. I'm not asking you to learn the difference or change the direction of your life, but there's a considerable estate to protect and maintain. You can appreciate that. I'm sure."
"Yes." I said.
"Good. Well, I'm happy we had this little chat," she said. "There is some paperwork I'll bring over in the next day or so, some matters we have to resolve with the investments. Don't worry. I'll explain it all to you clearly. I have a feeling,'" she said standing and reaching for her coat. "that it will be easier talking to you about some of this than it would be talking with Megan.
"By the way," she added as she put on her coat, "I'm not surprised she hadn't told Brody and Alison the whole truth about you. Tomorrow. remember? Everything's put off until tomorrow. Tomorrow, she'll worry about it," she said, laughed and started out.
I followed her to the door. She turned back to me after she opened it.
"I'm so glad I decided to have this conversation with you. Who wants to be wrapped up in all this unpleasantness with all we have yet to do with our lives? And don't worry about Grant. I'll speak with him and make sure he understands it all," she added.
As she walked out, I wondered if that wasn't the real reason she was being so nice and so reasonable: showing Grant she could handle things, handle me better than Megan could, and showing him how she was the one in the end who helped him protect his precious image.
Did she really hope to steal her sister's husband?
Knowing what I knew of them all now, I wasn't willing to bet a nickel on what any of them might do to each other, much less to me.
I closed the door, my head spinning.
What had just happened? What did it all mean? Was she sincere? Had she really thought about it all night?
I felt like running upstairs, packing and getting myself on the first plane to London.
Jake squinted suspiciously when I told him all that had happened. including Victoria's surprise visit and flag of truce. He had brought the Rolls-Royce back after having its scheduled service at the garage completed and I went out to talk to him.
"She just left," I concluded. "She says she's coming back with paperwork. Do you think I ought to have Mr. Sanger read it all first?"
"Of course." he replied quickly. "Don't ever relax and close your eyes around Victoria." he warned.
I smiled.
"I didn't need you to warn me about that. Jake. but I've got to say you don't exactly sound like a proud father."
He laughed and then grew serious,
"I didn't have anything to do with her upbringing. Everett was the biggest influence on her, a far bigger influence than Frances, despite what Victoria might have told you. Everett taught her how to be indifferent, analytical and cold when involved with business. I remember her telling Frances once that Everett had warned her she would be dealing mostly with men in the business world and that men in that world had little respect for women. They would always be looking to take advantage of her, cheat her, outsmart her. Everett's advice to Victoria was to pretend to be naive, innocent and weak, and when she got enough information to go for the jugular.
She got so she enjoyed it. He taught her how to be a corporate hit woman, a hunter whose prey was good business opportunities and weak opponents. 'If Daddy were alive, he would be proud of what I've done.' she would say.
"She's a lot like my grandfather. Jake added. "The little I remember about him. that is.
"But don't misunderstand me. Rain. I give Victoria credit for being so successful in business. Everett wasn't wrong. Men would have eaten her for breakfast if she wasn't as firm and smart as she is. There's little compassion for your competitor when it comes to making money. The bigger the stakes, the less compassion. There are some good things to learn from Victoria.
"However," he said. "she views you as one of those competitors, so here's my advice: watch your back.'
"Okay, Jake."
He nodded and looked around. The sky was cloudless. It was turning out to be one of the most beautiful days since my arrival. The breeze was warmer and the air was clear. Everything glittered.
"You know what you should do today," he said. "you should take my pony. Rain, for your first ride. She's ready and waiting. What' dya say?"
"I don't know."
"C'mon. You'll enjoy it. She's been asking for you," he said.
I laughed. I had enjoyed my riding classes at Dogwood and was looking forward to getting in the saddle again.
"Okay, Jake," I said and went in to change into my riding pants and boots, an outfit Grandmother Hudson had bought me for Dogwood.
"Very professional looking," Jake said when I returned. "Rain will be impressed."
"We'll see." I said and we drove off to the farm where Jake boarded his horse.
At the stable. I marveled at how beautiful Rain had become. She was a chestnut brown horse with an almost blond mane. She looked at me with curiosity when I drew closer and then lifted her left front leg and stomped the wooden floor.
"That's how she says hello," Jake told me. "She doesn't say hello to just anyone, so you're off to a great start."
I laughed and scratched her snout. Jake gave me some sugar cubes to feed her while he went for her saddle and bridle.
I
knew how to feed a horse, how to keep my palm flat and let her pluck the cubes out. She nodded.
"That's her thank you," Jake said as Rain backed up. Jake threw the saddle over her and fastened the girth. "You should be able to do this yourself. right?"
"It was one of the first things they taught us in class," I said.
"You do the bridle," he told me and I did. Rain put up no resistence.
I watched Jake clean her hooves with his hoof pick. He tightened the saddle and told me to get up so he could adjust the stirrups. That done, he led us out of the stable.
"Take her west. You'll see the beaten track. It will bring you to the crest of that hill," he said pointing. "From there, by the way, you can look down on your proper:, house and all. Continue following the track and it will bring you back here. It should take you about an hour and a half.
"Just squeeze her gently with your legs and lean a bit forward and she'll bust into a lope. She likes it, but she likes to test you and will resist when you pull back. Don't let her have her way once, not even a little bit. She's like a spoiled teenager. Once you establish you're in control, she'll be as gentle as a lamb. Okay?"
"All right. Jake," I said.
"Have a good ride. I'll be waiting for you," he said. "I've got to go see the guy who owns these stables."
He started away. My heart raced. I could feel the horse's
_.
great strength beneath me. She twisted her neck with impatience at my hesitation. but I held the reins tight for a moment to do just what Jake had prescribed.
"We'll go when I'm ready." I said and then I loosened my grip and squeezed her ever so gently. She started forward, her head up, prancing proudly toward the path. I looked back and saw Jake watching.
"That's it." he said. "You're sittin' up straight and perfect. I knew it." he called.
He was right. Minutes after I had begun, all I had learned and all my past riding experience returned. After I had conquered my initial fears at Dogwood. I grew to love being on horseback. The irony of a poor girl growing up in the streets of the inner city finding herself dressed in an expensive riding outfit being trained along with some of the wealthiest young women in the area never left me. Even now, it brought a smile to my face. I used to sit on the horse and think how Mama Arnold would just roar with laughter and tears of happiness.
I could feel Rain's desire to break into a lope. She pulled on the reins, tossed her head from side to side, snorted, whinnied, did everything but rear up and toss me off. I pulled her to a halt and made her stand still. She lowered her head and tossed it again and then lifted her head and stamped her right front foot. Finally, she settled down and I let her go forward, slowly. After five minutes or so. I gave her more head and she broke into that lope. It was beautiful, like riding on the wind. Then I was afraid I was giving her too much and pulled her back as we drew closer to the hill.
We went up slowly and at the top. I stopped and gazed out just as Jake had instructed. There was Grandmother Hudson's beautiful big house, mostly mine now, nestled in the valley. The lake looked painted silver. High above two crows circled. Seeing the property from this prospective filled my heart with joy.
How could we just sell it off as an investment, treat the land and the house like some stock or bond on the market?
It
had too much personality, history. It wasn't a piece of property; it was a home.
Victoria was going to have to battle with me about this. I concluded. Seeing it from this height, I was convinced it was Grandmother Hudson's purpose to give me the controlling interest. that I would know the meaning of home and want to protect and cherish it.
Rain looked out as if she, too, appreciated the view. She wasn't impatient. I stroked her neck.
"Someday soon, we'll ride over there. Rain. You can come visit me," I told her and then we continued over the path, through some woods, past a sparkling stream of water where the afternoon sunlight turned the river's stones into jewels and crystals as the light filtered through the surrounding trees.
I gave my four-footed namesake another chance to lope and then we slowed down, making our way back toward the stables where Jake waited. Sitting on a chair, reading a paper, he watched us approaching and then he stood up.
"Well?"
"It was wonderful. Jake. Thank you."
"She looks like she got a good workout. Princess. You did good."
After we walked her and cooled her down. I brushed her for about a half hour. At Dogwood, they always made us brush our horses. It was the best way for them to get used to you. By the time Jake and I left it was late in the afternoon.
"I'll see you soon. Rain," I told her. She twisted her neck and then nodded as if she understood.
"That you will." Jake said. "When you return to England, maybe you should do some riding," he suggested after we got into his car.