Daughter of Light by V. C. Andrews
All along the street, men and women were returning from work. At some houses, children who had been waiting at windows anticipating the arrival of their fathers or mothers came running out to greet them as soon as they were out of their cars. I couldn’t help but remember the times I had been there to greet my father after he had been gone for days. When I was very young, I couldn’t wait to hear him call for me the moment he came through the front door.
“Where’s my Lorelei? Where’s my little angel?” he would cry, and I would come around the corner, shyly at first, and then, bursting with happiness, rush into his powerful arms. I had thought he had the strength to toss me into a cloud. His laughter had resonated throughout the house. Ava would appear behind me, her eyes two pools of green envy.
“And you, my darling?” he would ask her. “How have you been? Didn’t you miss me just as much?”
More timidly, more reserved and ladylike, she would approach to hug him. More often than not, he would have some sort of gift for us, such as new necklaces or rings or bracelets. Even if he had been gone for only two days, he would want to hear about every moment that had passed and how we had filled it. I had always felt as if he were memorizing the sound of my voice, the music of my laughter, and the love for him in my eyes. His attention had been so strong and so intense that I had felt absorbed into him.
Right now, I paused to listen to some children laughing. I heard people greeting each other, asking how they were, how their day had been. No one watching me and seeing me seize on every syllable, every smile and hug, would understand how much it all meant to me. I was like a visitor from another planet, amused and delighted in the joy these inhabitants had in their world. I yearned to be a part of it. If Daddy were there and saw the smile on my face, he would know that there was no longer any reason to pursue me. I would never return.
Of course, if he was pursuing me or sending Ava after me, bringing me back might not be his purpose.
Out of nowhere, a cold chill slipped under the sunshine and down my back. I shivered and then walked faster toward the Winston House. When I drew closer, my attention was drawn to the windows of my room. I was sure that I saw a curtain parting and Thaddeus Bogosian looking down at me.
He was gone as quickly as he had appeared.
Please, I thought, let that be my overworked imagination.
11
“Well, thank goodness you’re home,” Mrs. Winston said as soon as I entered.
I barely heard her. My first thoughts went to what I thought I had seen up in my room. Was he waiting for me there? I doubted that Mrs. Winston would permit any guest to wait in a tenant’s room without the tenant present.
“Lorelei?”
“What? Oh. I’m okay, Amelia,” I said, thinking that she had heard that I was walking back and had been worried about me. “I had no problem.”
“Yes, I can see that, and I’m glad, but you have a stubborn young man in the living room who won’t go up to his room and rest as the doctor ordered until he sees you to confirm that you are indeed all right.”
She stepped back from the living-room entrance so I could enter.
“Jim?”
“Who else? Please tell him he has to follow the doctor’s orders, or he’ll only make things worse for himself. Apparently, he needs to hear it from you,” she added firmly when I didn’t move.
“Yes, of course,” I said, and hurried in.
Jim was sitting back on the sofa. He wore a light blue robe and black fur-lined slippers and looked as if he had been in a brutal prizefight in which his opponent didn’t wear gloves. Days later, the bruises from the airbag were larger, darker, and deeper. He was also in a neck brace.
“Why aren’t you upstairs in bed?” I demanded, looking as cross as I could.
“I’m not as bad as I look,” he said, leaning forward. He was staring up at me, almost as if he didn’t know who I was. He looked as if he had fallen under a spell. He smiled. “I’m truly amazed at you, Lorelei.”
“Why?” Had he seen something, realized something, and learned something that I’d rather no one there knew?
“You really didn’t get a scratch. I’m so happy.”
“Oh,” I said, relieved. “I told you I was fine. Now, you had better listen to Mrs. Winston and your doctors and go back to your room.”
“He knows we’re bringing his dinner up to him,” Mrs. Winston said. She was standing right behind me. “And he knows he’s not to be walking around the first day home, for sure.”
“I feel terrible having everyone wait on me. I can walk up and down the stairs and sit at the dinner table. The doctor didn’t say I was confined to my room. Exactly.”
“Maybe we don’t want to look at you,” Mrs. Winston said, half kidding. “It could ruin our appetites.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Look at him,” she told me. “He’s ready to burst into tears.”
“Jim, she’s only kidding. You should follow the doctor’s orders and give yourself a chance to heal. I’ll stop by to see you after dinner.”
That put a smile back on his face. “I never properly apologized for all of this,” he said, rising. “I know I must have looked like a fool driving into that mailbox, but I would swear on my mother’s grave that there was an elderly man standing right in front of us.”
“Sure, put it all on your mother, even now,” Mrs. Winston said. “Just like all you young people these days,” she added, as if she had actually lived during the time of John Adams.
“I was just trying to impress Lorelei that I had no choice but to turn quickly and—”
“I’m not blaming you, Jim. I told you that. C’mon. Go up to your room and relax. I’ll walk up with you,” I said.
He nodded and headed out. Mrs. Winston gave me a nod of approval for how I was handling him. She followed us to the foot of the stairs. I looked up. Had I imagined it, or was he there in my room waiting for me? It was on the tip of my tongue to say something, to ask Mrs. Winston about it, but I held back.
I followed Jim to his room. Mrs. Winston or Mrs. McGruder had brought him additional pillows, and there was a tray at the foot of his bed. His room was very neat and organized. There was an antique maple hutch with a drop-down secretary desk on the right. A small pile of books and some papers were on the desk.
He nodded at it. “My substitute teacher sent along the essays I had assigned last week. The problem is, I get a little headache every time I start reading.”
“They’ll just have to wait,” I said. “Go on. Get into bed. I’ll stop by later.”
“So, you’re really not mad at me?” he asked.
“Of course not, Jim. You did what you thought you had to do.”
“But the police claim there was no one at the scene of the accident fitting the description I gave them.”
“Once he saw what he had caused, he ran off. Case closed,” I said.
He nodded. “You really look great,” he said. “I’m very relieved.”
“Thank you. Now, get yourself better or I will get mad.”
“Right,” he said, and headed for his bed.
I waited a moment and then left, closing his door quietly behind me. For a long moment, I just stood there looking down the hallway at my door. As I stepped toward it gingerly, I could feel my heart begin to pound, the beat reverberating through my body and making my bones tremble. I had witnessed Daddy’s attack on Mark Daniels. It was as if his body had turned into a tornado of darkness. Was that what awaited me on the other side of my door?
I could feel a defensive hardness coming into my body. I braced myself, listened for a moment, and then, gathering all of the courage I could, I turned the doorknob and entered.
There was no one standing there, but the air in the room felt like the cold air that strikes you when you open a freezer. I froze, waiting for the deep chill to pass. After a few more moments, it did, and I closed the door. I looked around carefully. There was no physical evidence of
However, I had no doubt that if Thaddeus was one of us, he would have no difficulty slipping in and out of practically anywhere unnoticed. That was why I believed he or someone like him had stepped in front of Jim’s car, causing the accident.
I sat on my bed to think. Should I remain there, or should I pack up and leave quietly, perhaps during the night? Could I find a safer place? Was there anywhere in the world where I could disappear? I had no doubt that wherever Ava was, she was feeling confident about her predictions for me. Maybe she was expecting me simply to return after coming to the realization that she was right, that there was no escape.
This deepening sense of fear was a feeling I was unused to having. I had grown up believing that I would always be safe because Daddy would always be there to look after me. Even after the Renegade had come for me, I did not live in fear. There was no one stronger or smarter than my father.
But I had betrayed him and angered him. If he came after me now, it wouldn’t be to protect me. No one here had the power or the ability to protect me, either. In fact, I had already endangered one of them by coming here. Who would be next? What was the use? I had to leave Buddy in order for him to survive. Why wouldn’t that be true for anyone I liked or anyone who liked me? I had only two simple choices to make, I thought. I could return and see if I would be accepted into my family again, or I could flee and be a fugitive forever until somehow, somewhere, one of the dark forces caught up with me. All I was capable of doing was prolonging the inevitable.
Depression hung around me as I started to freshen up and change my clothes. The sun had lost its grip on the day, and shadows came charging through the windows to dull every bright and happy color. Even the sound of car horns turned mournful. It made me think of Shakespeare’s line about graves that yawned. Troubled souls were released until morning to dance in the darkness. My gloom was nurtured and strengthened. Whatever joy had lit up my face dwindled until the bright candlelight in my eyes was reduced to weakened embers.
I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. They might think I was being haunted by my past. Whatever sympathy they had felt for me would look pathetic. They’d want to show more and comfort me more. Until now, I had escaped too many personal questions. No one really had interrogated me on the details of my flight, nor did anyone challenge my story. I hoped that I could keep it that way for as long as I needed to, but not if I greeted them with these eyes. I had to find the strength to push back on the doleful memories that wanted to overwhelm me.
I hardened my heart, pinched my cheeks to bring back good color, and charged out of my room, closing the door on the gathering shadows that wanted to carry me off. I was confident that I could keep up my cheerful appearance.
Down at dinner, Martin Brady was full of questions, however. Like everyone else, he wanted to hear about the accident. Mrs. Winston pounced on him like a protective grandmother swatting away annoying flies from her granddaughter’s face and hair, telling him that he was causing me to relive a nasty event just to satisfy his curiosity.
“Leave her be. She’s just settling down after a horrendous experience. What she doesn’t need at the moment is someone like you barking questions at her.”
He apologized and tried to change the topic to Naomi Addison to find out what had happened there, but Mrs. Winston was determined not to be a gossip.
“I don’t need to spread any more stories about that woman. She does a very good job of denigrating herself, thank you.”
“Amen to that,” Mrs. McGruder said, overhearing the conversation when she brought in a bowl of freshly made mashed potatoes.
Finally, having one door after another shut in his face, Mr. Brady started to talk about himself and his work. He rattled on about the difficulties in the business world today. Mrs. Winston gave me a smile of amusement after she asked some questions that would keep him talking about himself, which was obviously the topic he favored the most, anyway. Even I threw in a few questions about his travels and clients, which brought more smiles to Mrs. Winston. I felt as if she and I were conspirators.
To carry the conversation even further away from me, she began to describe how difficult it would have been for a traveling salesman to make any sort of living in Colonial times. Mr. Brady looked as if he would fall asleep at the table when she went into all that.
Just after dinner, Mrs. McGruder came in to tell me that I had a phone call. I could see the assumption on Mrs. Winston’s face. She was expecting her great-nephew Liam Dolan to call me, I knew, but it turned out to be his sister, Julia.
“I was so happy to hear how well you’re doing,” she began.
“Thank you. Jim Lamb was sent home today.”
“I know. How is he?”
“He looks terrible, but I didn’t tell him that.”
She laughed. “He’ll be fine. Especially if you show him any attention.”
“I like him, but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”
“Somehow I think you know how to handle that,” she said. “Anyway, I’m calling to see if you’re free Saturday, as we had discussed. Don’t get trapped into babysitting Jim Lamb,” she added quickly.
“No, I won’t do that.”
I thought about her invitation. Was I going to leave, or wasn’t I? I’d like to get to know her more. What would it be like to have a real girlfriend? How much could I confide in her? I was always jealous of the girls at school who hung out together. They seemed to move in their own world, speak their own language, and have experiences I could only imagine. I had wanted to be part of all that back then, and I certainly wanted something like it now. The only time I had ever been out where people my age were enjoying themselves was when I was on a training session with Ava. The truth was, none of us had anything remotely resembling a social life. Could I? Would it be unfair, even dangerous, for Julia to be my friend?
“Well?” she asked when a long moment of silence had passed. “Do you have intentions of getting someone to ask you out? Is that why you’re hesitating?”
“No, no. Yes,” I said impulsively. “I’d love to go out with you.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. You’ll love this place. Great food, great music. It’s a happening place.”
“You know I’m technically not of drinking age.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll hang in the restaurant section. No one checks much there. I’ll buy the drinks.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Mrs. Winston looked at me when I returned. She would never think of herself as a busybody. I knew she was simply concerned about me.
“That was your great-niece, Julia. I met her at the hospital.”
“Oh, yes. She’s a delightful young lady.”
“She and I are going out this Saturday night.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or relieved that it wasn’t Liam who had called for a date.
“I wish I had the energy to go out and party on weekends,” Mr. Brady said. “Too often, I have to work on Saturdays.”
“And too often, you imbibe with your prospective customers,” Mrs. Winston said.
He started to protest and then stopped and admitted that she had a point. I left them talking about the benefits and dangers of alcohol. Mrs. Winston was already well into the most popular beverages in the John Quincy Adams White House. It brought a smile to my face as I left to do what I had promised and stopped in to see Jim after dinner.
“I guess I didn’t give you such a great introduction to Quincy, Massachusetts,” he said, still feeling sorry for himself and still trying to get me to say kind things.
“I never asked for that. You were very kind to worry about me and offer to take me home, Jim. Let’s leave it at that. Get back on your feet, and go back to work.”
He nodded, looked down for a moment, and then raised his head slowly. “Can I make a confession?
“It’s not necessary,” I told him.
“But I’d like to be honest. Somehow, when I’m in your presence, I feel a greater need to be so. Not that I’m a dishonest person ordinarily,” he quickly added.
“Okay, what is it?”
“I pretended to be leaving the mall and just happen to see you. I was there much earlier, watching you and Naomi. I saw her leave you, and that was when I planned how I would supposedly luckily spot you.”
I nodded softly. “I’m flattered,” I said. He started to smile. “But it’s only fair to tell you that I’m not looking for a romantic involvement right now. I’ve just come off a very hard disappointment. I need time and space. I’m not even sure I’m going to stay here.”
His face, even his bruises, lost color instantly. “Why not?” he practically whined. “You have a great new job, and I heard from Mrs. Winston how much Mr. Dolan likes you already. Why would you consider leaving?”
“It’s complicated,” I said. “For now, I appreciate your friendship, but let’s not think of it as much more.”
He swallowed his disappointment so hard that it made his Adam’s apple bounce, but I thought I had to say what I had said. I didn’t want to hurt or disappoint someone as vulnerable as he was. Looking at him, all banged up and already head over heels about me, I couldn’t help thinking what an easy target he would be for Ava or even for me if I were doing what Daddy expected of me. Now that I was thinking about that in relation to him, I also thought about the young men who had introduced themselves to me at Dolan Plumbing Supply. All of them were prime prey. They looked as if they would be willing to fall into any trap I had set. Why was it so easy?
I had always thought Ava was joking when she told me that we had a special aroma that excited the lust in men.
“We almost don’t have to be sexy and attractive,” she had said. “Not that we aren’t.”
“I don’t smell anything different about you, nor did I smell anything different about Brianna,” I had told her.