Secrets of Foxworth (33 page)

After she left, we called to Cory. We wanted to end the game, but he didn't come out, and we couldn't find him. At first, I thought it was funny. My little brother had outsmarted us. But gradually, I began to get more frightened. He wasn't capable of holding out this long. He wouldn't stay in the game without Carrie, anyway. I came up with a frightening possibility. He must have gone into one of the trunks and the lid got stuck.

I called for Carrie, and she came back up to the attic. In a frenzy, we began opening trunks, and I finally found him locked in one. He was blue from lack of oxygen and ice-cold. My heart pounded with the possibility that he would die right there and then. I remembered what to do and got him into a warm bath quickly. Gradually, he became more and more conscious. I felt like I was resurrecting him. Once he realized what had happened, he began to cry for Momma, just the way any child would. Cathy looked at me. Now I was the one who was desperate. I couldn't get Momma for him.

And then my sister suddenly, instantly matured in my eyes. “I'll be your momma,” she told Cory.
He clung to her, accepted her, as she sang “Rock-a-bye Baby” to him just the way Momma used to sing it. I saw the calmness return to his face. As I watched them, I felt a great longing inside me, something I had not felt for a long time, a longing for family, for love, and for protection.

I sat in the rocker, and the others joined me. I held them close. Cathy rested her head against my shoulder, and the twins clung to each other and to me.

“We'll be fine,” I whispered. “Our time will come.” I recited from Ecclesiastes: “There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens.”

“For us, too?” Cathy asked.

“Yes. We'll put in our sacrifice. We'll get through this, and then we'll live and enjoy a bountiful life, full of all the things we dreamed of having.”

I rocked on.

The twins were asleep.

Cathy closed her eyes, and before she dozed off, she whispered, “But we have to wait for an old man to die. We have to wish for it.”

Of course, she was right. It seemed wrong, but as I caught the reflection of the four of us clinging to one another, I thought it wasn't wrong to want someone as dark and hateful as him to die.

I put the diary away and went to sleep wishing that the old man would die soon, too. It was really the first
time I had wished anyone any harm. It frightened me a little. Was my reading of the diary turning me into someone I didn't want to be? Were my father's fears justified?

I knew I was becoming as moody as Cathy in the diary. I couldn't help it. Every time there was a lull in classwork or I was alone, even for a minute or so, the vision of those children shivering, clinging to one another, withering away like the flowers they were given, would return. I felt so frustrated for them.

Of course, my friends had no idea that I had a black cloud hovering over me. The problem for me was the contrast between feeling the pain in the diary and seeing my lucky classmates giggling over the silliest things, arguing over trifles, and growing impatient with me because I didn't laugh at the things they thought were funny and I didn't have the same excitement about the fun they were expecting on weekends.

No one was more tuned in to my growing depression than Kane. Even so, for days, he tried to ignore it, telling jokes, and then one day, he surprised me with a ring to match the ruby necklace Uncle Tommy had bought me. I had told him how Uncle Tommy had presented it.

“Found this on the sidewalk,” he said when we had a few moments together at lunch.

“Oh, Kane.” He watched me as I unwrapped it.

I couldn't help it. As soon as I saw what it was, I started to cry, and I cried so hard I had to jump up and run to the bathroom. Lana and Suzette came after me.
I was sitting on the toilet in a stall and sobbing as I looked at the ring in my palm.

“What's going on?” Lana asked. She tapped on the door. “Kane is in shock. He thinks he did something terrible.”

I bit on my lower lip and tried to swallow back my tears before I dabbed my face with tissues and opened the stall door. The two of them stood back as if they thought I might explode or something.

“What happened?” Suzette asked.

Of course, I would never tell them why I was crying. I wasn't completely sure of the reason myself, but I opened my palm and showed them the ring.

“That's beautiful,” Lana said. “Why did you get so hysterical?”

“My uncle Tommy bought me this,” I said, lifting the necklace. “It was my mother's favorite jewel. Kane bought the ring to match.”

They both stared at me.

“So?” Suzette finally said, after looking at Lana.

“It's hard to explain. I don't have very much family,” I added.

That seemed to satisfy them. They both moved forward to hug me, and for a few moments, the three of us just stood there clinging to one another.

Maybe we were all shut away in some sort of attic, I thought. Maybe we were all terribly alone at times.

“Thanks,” I told them. “I'd better get back and thank him.”

“He might have committed suicide by now,” Lana joked.

“I doubt it,” Suzette said. “He's not the type. He'd just say, ‘Next,' and move on to someone else.”

“How do you know?” I asked her. “I wouldn't bet on it.”

Their eyes widened.

“You didn't cross the Rio Grande?” Lana asked. “Did you?”

“Only my hairdresser knows,” I said.

“What?” Suzette asked.

I laughed. “My dad has this book about old commercials and advertisements, and that was a line in one selling hair color, but it got to mean more, if you get my drift.”

“Drift? Did you sleep with him or didn't you?” Suzette demanded.

“Figure it out,” I said, and started to leave.

They both were stunned, I was sure. They caught up before I reached the cafeteria.

“You'd better tell us,” Lana warned. “We're your best friends.”

I just smiled at them and hurried to join Kane, who still did look shocked.

“Sorry,” I said, sitting beside him. “Help me put it on.” He slipped the ring onto my finger. “Thank you. It's beautiful, Kane.” And then I kissed him, but not quickly and not like you would kiss a relative. I could hear the conversations around us pause.

He smiled.

Neither of us said anything else. We ate and talked to our friends. For me, it was like coming up out of the cold, dark, deep water for a little while. But it
wasn't long before I was thinking about poor Cathy. She probably never got to experience this sincere feeling. Even after she got out of that attic.

Later that day, just before dinner, I showed my father what Kane had given me. I could see how surprised he was, and impressed.

“First ring I gave your mother was out of a Cracker Jack box. It was a joke, but she kept it a long time. Might still be in a drawer.”

“It's what it says, not what it is,” I told him, and his eyes widened.

“Your mother wouldn't have said it any differently.”

I looked away quickly. No tears, not tonight, I told myself.

Dad was working very late every day now, so I prepared our dinners. Twice during the week, however, he had to have dinner with the owner and the architect. He wanted me to come along, but I told him I had to do my homework and not to worry, because I didn't mind eating alone. The second night, however, I asked him if I could invite Kane.

“Sure,” he said. “Used to be that you could win a man over through his stomach, but it looks like you've done it already.”

“Never hurts to be sure,” I told him.

He laughed, but I could feel the hesitation in the laugh and in his voice. I imagined that it seemed to him like Kane and I were moving too quickly in our relationship, and although he probably wouldn't ask, he had to be wondering just how far had we gone.

These days, if you were with the same boy for two dates, it was assumed you had had sex. I wasn't going to tell anyone, especially my girlfriends, but I was impressed at how Kane wasn't demanding. At first, I had told myself that he really respected me, but lately, I was telling myself he had deeper feelings for me than he had ever had for other girls he had dated, and that was the real reason for his patience. Nevertheless, a part of me remained suspicious. I couldn't help feeling that Kane was much more sophisticated than I was when it came to sex. He was very bright and very perceptive, but then I reminded myself that he wasn't conniving, devious, or sly. At least, he wasn't to me.

He came over right after school and watched me prepare a vegetarian lasagna. He sat in the kitchen, entranced, as if I were doing an amazing chemistry experiment.

“I don't think—in fact, I know my mother can't do what you're doing,” he said.

“I'm sure she could if she wanted to.”

“I'm not.”

“Maybe I should have said if she had to.”

“Maybe.”

I paused and looked at him sitting there with admiration so clear in his face. He smiled softly, his eyes warm and loving. “My girlfriends think you're going to break my heart,” I said.

“Hand me that knife.”

“Why?”

“I'll sign a pledge in blood.”

I couldn't help but laugh. He rose and came over to kiss me and then brushed back my hair.

“I really like you, Kristin. I've never liked any girl this much. I want to say ‘love,' but I'm afraid you'll doubt me.”

“Say it anyway,” I told him.

He widened his smile. “Kristin Masterwood, I, Kane Hill, declare that I love you. When I'm away from you, I think so hard about you I forget what I'm doing. I don't hear anyone talking to me. When I close my eyes, I see you. You're with me when I'm asleep, and you're the first thing I think about when I wake up. If I could skip everything between now and the day I could marry you and care for you, I would do it.”

We kissed.

“Let me finish making dinner,” I said softly. His words had taken away my breath. I could barely do more than whisper. Every part of my body he had touched was tingling with anticipation of his lips and fingers caressing me lovingly again. He nodded and stepped back.

“I'll go up to your room and start some homework and leave you alone so you won't be distracted. I'm gonna be very hungry.”

“You'd better be,” I said.

He walked out slowly, paused in the doorway to smile again, and then went up to my room.

I didn't know when I had felt more content, more happy. I made sure to follow my father's recipe exactly, measuring his ingredients carefully, and then
put the lasagna in the oven. After that, I worked on the salad and got out some bread to heat. We had some of my favorite frozen yogurt. I planned to put some fresh fruit on it and surround it with ginger snaps for dessert.

Confident that we'd have a great dinner together, I finished setting the table and then went upstairs to join Kane and maybe start some of my own homework, but when I stepped through my bedroom doorway, I stopped as if I had walked into a glass wall.

Kane was lying on my bed.

And in his hands was Christopher's diary.

“I was bored with my history assignment. It actually made me tired, so I leaned back on your bed and thought your pillow was really hard.”

I didn't speak. All I could do was stare. Every muscle in my body felt locked. It made him nervous. He fumbled with the diary.

“So I moved the pillow and saw this. At first, I thought it was your diary, and I swear I didn't open it, but then I realized how old it was and was naturally very curious. You look so upset, Kristin. I didn't mean to . . .”

“How much have you read, Kane?”

“Just the first page. What is this? I mean, who is this? Was he your mother's old boyfriend or something?” he asked, and put the diary down.

I picked it up. “No,” I said. My mind reeled as I tried to think of different things I could say. Should I make up something? Would he see right away that
I wasn't telling the truth? I sat at the foot of the bed, still stunned.

He sat up. “I'm sorry, Kristin,” he said.

I shook my head. “It's not your fault. I probably would have done the same thing if it happened in your bedroom.” I looked at the diary. “There were many times when I almost told you about this, but I had promised my father I wouldn't tell anyone about it.”

“Why?”

“It's complicated. It has to do with our family, but . . . actually, he doesn't like that I'm reading it, either.”

“Oh. Well, I promise. I'll never mention it.”

I looked at him. Should I believe him? Didn't everything boil down finally to trust? What kind of relationship could we have if we didn't trust each other? “There would be no way you could hurt me worse than if you did that, Kane.”

“I understand. I'll never do anything to hurt you, Kristin.” He smiled. “I'm still willing to write it in blood. Why exactly is your father so adamant about it?”