I asked sharply, turning to stare at him, "What is a lost soul, Joel?"
His benign voice said softly, "Those who can't find peace in their graves, Catherine. Those who hesitate between Heaven and Hell, looking back to their time on earth to see what they left unfinished. By looking back, they are trapped forever, or at least until their life's work is done."
I shiiiered as if a cold wind blew from the cemetery.
"Don't try to digest that, Mom," said Jory impatiently. "I wish I could use some of the descriptive adjectives that Cindy's age group can throw out with so much ease and not feel crass. Funny," he added more thoughtfully as Joel disappeared again in the darkness, "when I was in New York and I was disgusted, impatient or angry, I used gutter language, too. Now, even when I think about saying those words, something keeps me from doing it."
He didn't have to explain. I knew exactly what he meant. It was all around us, in the atmosphere, the clarity of the mountain air, the closeness of the stars . . . the presence of a strict and demanding God. Everywhere.
The New Lovers
. They met in the shadows. They kissed in the halls. They haunted the sunny, spacious gardens, roamed there in the moonlight, too. They swam together, played tennis together, strolled hand in hand by the lakeshores; they walked and jogged in the woods, had picnics by the pool, by the lake, in the woods; went dancing, to restaurants, then the theater, the movies.
They lived in their own world while we were apparently invisible, not seen or heard by them, not when they could look at each other across the dining table with dazzled eyes, as if they had the world by its tail and would never let it go. I was caught up in their romance, despite myself, thrilled to be around such glowing, beautiful young lovers, a matched pair with their dark hair almost the same color. I was happy and I was unhappy, delighted, yet so sad that it was not Jory who had found another woman to love. I wanted to warn Toni she was on treacherous ground, that Bart was not to be trusted, but then I'd look at Bart's radiant face, free of guilt or shame. This time he wasn't stealing anything that belonged to his brother. My critical words would fade away unspoken. Who was I to tell him whom he could love? I, of all people, had to stay quiet and let him have his chance. This was different than it had been with Melodie; Toni didn't belong to Jory.
Bart showed his happiness by becoming more confident, and with the security in his newfound love he forgot all his peculiar habits and his obsessive concern for neatness and allowed himself to relax in sports clothes. In the past, a thousand-dollar suit worn with expensive silk shirts and ties had given him his status symbols; now he didn't care, for Toni had given him his sense of worth. I could tell that for the first time in his life he seemed to have found stable ground to stand on.
He smiled and kissed me several times on the cheek. "I know what you wanted to happen, I do! I do! But it's me she loves, Mother! Me! Toni sees something wonderful and noble in me! Do you realize how that makes me feel? Melodie used to say she saw these qualities in me, too, but I didn't feel noble or wonderful when I knew what harm I was doing to Jory. Now it's different. Toni's never been married, never had a lover before, although she's had lots of boyfriends. Mother, think of that! I am her first lover! It makes me feel so special to be the one she waited for. Mother, we have something wonderfully special. In me she sees the same things that you see in Jory."
"I think that's wonderful, Bart. I am happy for you both."
"Are you really?" His dark eyes turned serious as they sought to delve the truth of my statement. Before I could reply, Joel spoke from the open doorway of Bart's study.
"You stupid fool! You think th
at nurse really wants you? That woman sees the nobility of your money! It's your bank accounts she's after, Bart Foxworth! Have you observed the way she strolls through this house, her eyes half closed, obviously pretending that she's the mistress here! She doesn't love you. She is using you to get what every woman wants--money, control, power, and then more money--and once you marry her, she'll be set for life, even if you divorce her later on."
"Shut up!" barked Bart, turning to glare furiously at the old man. "You're jealous because I have no time left to spend with you. This is the cleanest, purest love of my life--and I'm not going to allow you to spoil it!"
Joel bowed his head meekly, appearing crestfallen as he templed his palms together under his chin before he slipped down the hall, obviously headed for that special small room that Bart had converted into a family chapel, although only Joel and Bart ever prayed there. I'd never even bothered to look inside.
I stood on my toes to kiss Bart's cheek, to hug him and wish him good luck. "I'm happy for you, Bart. Sincerely happy. I truthfully admit I had hopes that Toni might fall in love with Jory and make up for his loss of Melodie. I wanted the twins, to have a mother while they are still babies. She would have the chance to learn to love them like her own, and they wouldn't remember any mother but her. But since it hasn't happened that way, seeing your happiness and hers makes me feel warm and good inside."
Delving, delving, those dark eyes that tried to read my soul. I had to ask: "Will you marry her?"
His hands rested lightly on my shoulders. "Yes, I'll ask her soon, after I make sure she isn't deceiving me. I have a method all planned to test her."
"Bart, that's not fair. When you love you have to trust."
"To have blind faith in anyone but God is idiotic."
Only too well I remembered what Chris was always telling me. Seek and you shall find. I knew that well enough. I'd always been suspicious of the best that life gave me, and soon enough the best had disappeared.
"Mother . . ." he began with surprising candor, "if Jory had kept his dancing legs, I know now that Melodie would never have let me touch her. She loved him, not me. She may have even pretended I was him, for sometimes I see a certain resemblance between us. I also think Melodie saw what she wanted to see, and she turned to me because he couldn't satisfy her physical needs any longer. I was a substitute lover for my brother, just as I've always come in second to Jory. Only with Toni have I come first."
"You're right this time, Bart. Jory is here and Toni isn't seeing him. She sees you, only you."
His lips took on an ironic twist. "Yeah . . . but you're not mentioning that I'm up on my legs and he's down. I've got the most money, and he's got a pittance in comparison. And he's already burdened with two children that won't be hers. Three strikes against Jory . . . so I win."
Now I was wanting him to win; he needed Toni ten times more than Jory did. My Jory was strong even when he was down, and Bart was so vulnerable and uncertain while he was perfectly healthy. "Bart, if you can't love yourself for what you are, how do you expect anyone else to? You've got to start believing that even without money Toni would still love you."
"We will soon find out," he said tonelessly, a certain something in his eyes that reminded me of Joel. He turned to dismiss me. "I've got work to do, Mother. See you later . . ." and he was smiling at me with more love than he'd shown since he was nine.
Contrary, complex, perplexing, challenging, the man my little troubled Bart had grown into .. .
Cindy had written to tell us how fabulous her summer days in the New England drama class were going. "We act in real productions, Momma, in real barns that are temporarily converted into theaters. I love it, really love every aspect of show biz."
Often I missed Cindy as the summer days passed. We all swam in the lake or pool, introducing the rapidly growing twins to all the wonders of nature. They had small teeth now and were both fast crawlers to wherever they wanted to go, and that was