Daughter of Darkness (14 page)

I nodded.

“You’ll have plenty of time and plenty of opportunities very soon to enjoy yourself out there, Lorelei. Just be a little more patient and listen to your sister. She’s been through it.”

“I’m not sure she has,” I said, perhaps too quickly.

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“Ava’s a harder person than I am. She seems almost angry all the time, especially at men.”

He didn’t laugh or smile. The look he gave me instead put icicles down my back. It was as if he was learning more about me than about Ava from what I was saying.

“Well, then, try to be more like that,” he said. He rose. “I don’t want to hear any more talk about this boy at school, Lorelei.”

“Okay, Daddy,” I said quickly. His look and his tone were frightening me and causing my heart to thump.

I think he saw that in my face and softened his expression without quite smiling. “It will all be fine. Just be patient,” he said. He started to turn away and then stopped and turned to my window. The look that came over him now reminded me of the times he would stop whatever he was doing and listen hard.

“What…”

He put up his hand for me to be silent. I barely breathed. And then he surprised me again by returning to sit next to me on my bed.

“Tell me about this boy,” he said.

“There isn’t much to tell, Daddy. I don’t know much about him. He recently entered the school but quickly has become very popular. He is very good-looking and different.”

“Different? How?”

“He’s more mature, I think. I barely spoke to him today and never before today.”

“He never approached you before today?”

“No. He acted barely interested in me, no different from how he acted toward most of the girls. He’d grunt a hello in the hallway but never waited to hear me respond or try to have a discussion.”

“Until today?”

“Yes.”

He looked out the window again and was silent.
Then he turned back to me and said, “I want you to tell me exactly what he says and how he responds tomorrow when you tell him you can’t go with him on any date.”

“What should I tell him is the reason, Daddy?”

“Don’t give him any reason. No excuses. A simple ‘no, I’m sorry, thanks for asking.’”

“And if he asks why not?”

“Tell him you don’t want to go with him. If you say it strongly and firmly enough, he should be quite discouraged. He’ll be angry, of course, but he’ll not bother to ask you out anymore. If he does bother you, annoy you, you let me know that, too. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good.” He rose again.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

Maybe it was the wrong time to ask, but the way he had looked at me when I complained about Ava made me think more about myself, more about the differences between us.

“Why can’t I know more about myself, about where you found me and who my birth parents might be?”

“What for, Lorelei? What difference does any of that make now?”

“I read this story about an adopted girl who accidentally meets her real brother when both of them are in their twenties and…”

“And they don’t know they’re brother and sister and they fall in love?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about that. You have no brothers.”

“How can you know for sure?”

“Your birth parents died right after you were born and had no other children. Okay? Put that to rest. Go to sleep. I’ll be here tomorrow when you return from school. You’ll drive Marla and yourself. Ava has other things to do for me and then has to attend her own classes at college.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Good night, my sweet and beautiful daughter,” he said. He kissed me, touched my cheek, his eyes lingering on my face a moment, and then left.

I thought about what he had told me. It wasn’t much, but at least he had told me something about myself. Maybe I would get him to tell me more about my birth parents now. Even though they were dead, I’d like to know what they were like. What would be so terrible about that? Surely, now I was old enough to understand it all.

I gazed at my window. Why was he looking out there so hard? What else wasn’t he telling me?

And what could any of this possibly have to do with Mark Daniels and an innocent invitation to a party?

7
 
Sibling Rivalry

I was both surprised and happy that Ava had gotten up ahead of me in the morning and had gone to do whatever Daddy wanted her to do for him. Had she been there at breakfast, I thought my first words to her would have been “Thanks a lot, Ava. Are you satisfied now?” But knowing her, I was sure that would have led to more bitter words and perhaps brought Daddy downstairs. That would have displeased him. He was still upstairs with whomever he had brought home. Worried that I might go knocking on his bedroom door for something, Mrs. Fennel told me immediately that he was still entertaining a guest.

“Daddy’s not a slam-bam thank-you-ma’am kind of guy,” Ava once quipped when I commented on how long a particular woman had been with him in his room. “Most women are amazed at his stamina.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked her.

“A little bird told me,” she said, and laughed at the expression on my face. “You have a lot to learn, Lorelei, a lot to learn.”

She made it sound as if every little new tidbit of
information was as sweet and wonderful as a ripe grape, especially anything new that I learned about Daddy.

Marla looked sullen and disappointed at breakfast when I stepped into the dining room. What had she been expecting to see? Me sour and tearful? Was she hoping I’d be sent away and she’d move up the ladder toward a bigger place in Daddy’s heart ahead of me?

“I bet Daddy was very angry with you last night,” she began. She made it sound like the first line of a song. Mrs. Fennel looked disinterested as she moved about the table, but I sensed she was listening closely.

“No, not really,” I said as casually as I could. Clearly, Ava had said something to her. “We had a wonderful conversation last night after you went to bed, in fact, and he told me things about myself, about my birth parents.”

Marla looked devastated. “He did?”

“I wouldn’t say it if he hadn’t, Marla. We don’t lie to each other, especially in this house, and we certainly don’t plot against each other,” I reminded her sharply with one eye on Mrs. Fennel. I saw her smile.

This pleased her? Did she like me to be snippy and more like Ava? Maybe in her way of thinking, I was too soft and easy and not, therefore, made of the steel and grit necessary to be one of Daddy’s daughters. However, I didn’t care what pleased her. I didn’t like being this way, but Marla’s attitude drove me to these darker places in myself.

“Well, what are you going to do about that boy? I’m sure Daddy doesn’t like the idea of your seeing him, right? Right?” she repeated to force an answer.

“Don’t worry about it, Marla. It’s not of any concern to you. Just look after yourself.”

“We are all supposed to worry about each other and look out for each other, because it’s the same as looking out for ourselves,” she said, wagging her head at me. “Isn’t that what Daddy has told us often?”

“I said I would take care of it. I don’t need you to remind me of anything, either.”

She smiled a bitter little smile at me. “You’d better take care of it and take care of it fast,” she said. She sounded as if she were the older sister now and not me.

“I don’t need you threatening me, Marla.”

“I’m not threatening you. Am I threatening her, Mrs. Fennel?”

“Stop!” Mrs. Fennel snapped at us both. “I will not have this sort of behavior in my house.”

Marla constricted like a balloon losing its air. I stared back at Mrs. Fennel. Her house?
This is Daddy’s house
, I thought. She saw the defiance in my face but didn’t challenge it or get angry. She didn’t look surprised as much as she looked more interested in me. It was as if she saw something in me she was afraid I didn’t have, like the killer instinct or something.

That frightened me more. Did I have it? I felt as if I was being introduced to myself by myself in quick, sharp ways now. Every revelation would open my eyes wider and wash away the childhood fantasies to which I had clung. Ava once told me she carried Daddy inside her wherever she went. It was truly as if he saw what she saw and heard what she heard. She said she was happy about that, too. It helped her make sure she always made the right decisions.

I was happy to finish breakfast and get us off to school, despite what I knew awaited me there. Marla was
still smarting from my sharp comeback at breakfast and sat sullenly as I drove. Then she suddenly smiled and turned to me to say, “Ava told me something very secret about Mrs. Fennel a few days ago.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s something I bet you don’t know.”

“Stop it, Marla.”

“Stop what?”

“This childish tit-for-tat. You don’t know anything I don’t know.”

“Oh, really?” She sat there with that smile frozen on her face.

“Okay, what is it?” I reluctantly asked.

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you. Maybe Ava will get angry.”

“Please, will you,” I said, grimacing. “You’re behaving like a spoiled little brat.”

“Mrs. Fennel is Daddy’s older sister,” she blurted. “I bet you didn’t know that. Well?”

I smiled. “Ava was just teasing you, Marla. She once told me Mrs. Fennel was Daddy’s mother.”

“No. She was teasing you. She wasn’t teasing me. She trusts me more than she trusts you. She told me so.”

“You had better stop this lying, Marla.”

“I’m not lying. She said she and I have more in common. You can ask her yourself.”

“Right. I might just do that, and then you’ll be really sorry.”

“I won’t be sorry. Ava and I talk more than you know lately.”

I didn’t say anything, but I had a sick feeling at the
base of my stomach that she was telling the truth. My silence gave her more courage to continue her little taunting. She was more like Ava, all right, I thought. She had Ava’s mean streak, especially whenever she was checked.

“I know something else you don’t know,” she sang. I didn’t respond. “What do you think happened to Mrs. Fennel’s husband, Lorelei?”

“You know?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Yes, I do,” she quickly added. “If you’re nicer to me, I’ll think about telling you.”

“I’ll hold my breath,” I said.

When we pulled into the school parking lot and I shut off the engine, she turned to me and in her most whiny voice said, “I don’t care if you hold your breath all day, Lorelei, but you’d better do exactly what you’re supposed to do with that boy today.”

Then she got out and walked ahead of me to the building.

How could Daddy ever think sibling rivalry was a good thing? I wondered, and got out.

When I reached the entrance, I was surprised to see Mark Daniels standing there. He opened the door quickly for me.

“Your majesty,” he said, bowing. “I am at your royal service. Your wish is my command.”

I looked past him and saw Marla standing near the corridor she was to take to homeroom. She was watching us, looking like an evil child spy.

“In that case,” I said, walking past him, “I command you to leave me alone.” I paused and looked back. “In short, forget about me.”

I walked on, glaring back at Marla, who looked disappointed again. I was sure she had been hoping she would see something bad about me to tell Daddy.

She still had an opportunity for it, I thought later. Mark didn’t scare off easily. Right after homeroom, he was beside me in the hallway. I tried to walk faster, but he stayed alongside me.

“What do you want?” I muttered.

“What you’re asking for is impossible. It’s against Mother Nature.”

“Mother Nature?” I said, stopping and turning to him. The students around us paused as well because of how abruptly I turned and how loudly I spoke. “What stupid thing are you saying now?”

“The command to leave you alone, forget you,” he said in a very calm voice. He shook his head and looked sad. “Can’t be done. Every cell in my body, every beat of my heart, every corpuscle of my blood, is drawn to you the way nature intended. Even if I tried to forget you, my body wouldn’t listen. You’re like a beautiful magnet.”

I stared at him. He had a soft smile on his face, but his eyes were full of deep, serious feeling. If Daddy saw this boy, I thought, he’d understand why doing what he asked me to do was so difficult. In fact, if Daddy had a son, his son would surely look and act like Mark Daniels.

“Listen to me,” I said, imitating his soft tone but still speaking firmly. “I don’t want to go out with you this Friday. I don’t want you asking me to go out any Friday or any Saturday, ever. I would like you to leave me alone. Do you need that translated into any other language, or do you get the point?”

“That’s very good,” he said.

“What’s very good?”

“Your performance, for I know it’s a performance. You want to go out with me. I can see the struggle going on inside you. You’re saying these things, but you’re hoping I won’t listen.”

“Believe what you want,” I said, and walked away, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought I might faint. The truth was he was right, but how would he know that and be so confident knowing it?