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
"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,