"Congratulations. I'm so happy for you."
"Let's celebrate," he said. "Let's do something special tonight after dinner.Ill take you to town for custard."
My heart sank into my stomach. He saw the expression plain as day on my face.
"What?" he asked.
"I already made a promise to someone," I said.
He nodded. "Okay," he said and walked ahead.
"Maybe tomorrow night," I offered, running to catch up.
"Sure," he said. "But let's wait and see. You might have made another promise by then." He shut up like a turtle, his shoulders rising, his neck sinking. It made me feel sick inside. I realized how much it must have taken for him to reveal his feelings to me. Since Laura's death, he was all clammed up.
I felt pinched by contradictory emotions. They were like scissors cutting me in half. One part of me was full of excitement--counting the minutes to my rendezvous with Adam--while another part of me longed to share Cary's elation and be part of his return to trust, to hope, to a world where there were sunshine and stars and not the gloom of his tragic memories. Just for tonight, I thought, I wished I could duplicate myself and be in two places at once.
But I couldn't, and there just wasn't anything to do about it but feel sorry.
Cary walked ahead of me all the way to May's school. When he saw her run to me, he just kept walking. "See that she gets home all right," he called behind himself.
"We're coming. Wait up!" I cried.
But he didn't slow down and May was full of questions and stories. I had to watch him round the bend and disappear, his shoulders still scrunched up, making him look like an old man. It brought tears to my eyes, but I held them back and put on my best smile for May, who chatted away with her hands all the way home.
Cary remained down at the dock with Uncle Jacob until just before dinner. As usual, I helped Aunt Sara prepare the meal, but right before Uncle Jacob and Cary returned, the phone rang. Aunt Sara answered it and called out to me excitedly.
"It's your mother, dear!"
My heart stopped and then started again, pitterpattering so quickly, I thought I wouldn't have the voice with which to speak. I walked slowly into the living room and took the receiver from Aunt Sara, wondering if the wires could hold the heat of the words I wanted to scream over them.
"Hello," I began.
"Hi, honey. I just have a couple of minutes, but--"
"Don't you dare rush off again, Mommy. Don't you dare."
"Oh Melody, we're in Los Angeles and I'm--"
"How could you lie to me so much?" My throat started to tighten almost immediately. I thought I would choke before I got out my words. "How could you have kept your real adoptive parents a secret? Why didn't you ever tell me you and Daddy grew up together?"
After a short pause, she replied, "Y
our father didn't want to tell you all that, Melody. He wanted to protect you from all that was unpleasant."
"Don't put it all on him, Mommy. He's dead. He can't answer."
"Well, it wasn't just me! He wanted it that way, too," she proclaimed.
"Why?" I cried. "Why not tell me the truth about how you really met and fell in love? Why not tell me why the family was angry?" I demanded. The tears were burning under my lids.
"Chester thought you were too young to understand."
"But I'm not too young now! Why did you leave me here without telling me the truth, the whole truth about you and Daddy? How could you do that?"
She was quiet a moment and then she admitted, "I didn't think you would stay if I told you all that, Melody, and I didn't have much choice at the time. If you are as old as you claim you are, you'll
understand."