Hallow House - Part Two (27 page)

Naomi shook her head. No use to say it wasn't true. She'd found out in her eighteen years that people believed what they wanted to about twins. They couldn't understand that how you looked to yourself depended on how you felt inside, not on the outward appearance of your sister, no matter how identical. While she couldn't imagine life without Katrina, sometimes she wished she hadn't been born a twin, one person made into two.

"I've finished a letter to Johanna and Brian," Katrina said. "Do you want to add anything? You could mail it while you're in town."

"Did you ask if they were coming home at all this summer?"

Katrina shook her head. "After how upset Johanna got at Christmas, so they couldn't even spend the night here, I don't think they plan to visit here again. Anyway, they're both working."

Naomi was envious of Johanna being able to work part time as a research assistant while attending Stanford. Not that she thought history was the most exciting subject in the world. Still, being away at the university must be exciting.

Brian was majoring in business administration. Hard to think of him ever settling down in an office, but now that he and Johanna were married, Daddy was all set to have Brian take over in San Francisco when he was through school.

"Do you think Daddy will really retire when Brian's ready to take over?' Naomi asked.

"Mama says she'll believe that when she sees it."

"Maybe if he does, we can travel in the summers."

"You know he'd rather be here," Katrina reminded her.

Naomi's sigh was heartfelt.

"When I get married I'd like to live right here," Katrina said.

Naomi stared at her. "You're kidding. I thought you didn't like the old place."

"It'd be okay if that room was torn down and all the debris was taken away and burned. Of course there's always the possibility my husband might not want to live here."

"May I ask who you've picked to marry?"

Katrina smiled at her. "With my luck, you'll probably see him first, whoever he is."

"Ha! Who caught the bouquet at Johanna's wedding? Who snatched it right out of my hands?"

Katrina grabbed her sister's foot and Naomi lost her balance, falling into the pool. She surfaced and splashed water at Katrina.

"Mail your own letter," she yelled, diving down and swimming underwater to the other end of the pool.

Actually it was too hot to go into town, but she liked an excuse to drive the new Ford Thunderbird her father gave her for graduation. She'd chosen red, while Katrina picked white for hers. But what good was a car when your choices of places to go were so limited. Why did Daddy have to be so over-protective?

Naomi climbed from the pool and toweled her hair, letting the warm air dry her body. Katrina had disappeared into the house and Naomi followed, shivering when the coolness of the air-conditioning hit her. She was planning what to wear as she climbed the stairs.

Half way up, she paused. seeing Katrina flying down the steps toward her, still in her swim suit. Her sister's eyes were wide and frightened and her mouth was open, though no sound came from her. She clutched at Naomi.

"I saw, I saw," she cried. "Oh, Naomi, it's Daddy. Daddy's dying and no one can do anything, please, Naomi, help him."

"What? You saw Daddy?"

"In my head--you know. He was on the floor and--"

"Where?" Naomi demanded, a feeling of dread settling over her. Katrina was never wrong.

"I think...." Katrina paused and looked toward the library.

Naomi jerked away from her grasp and ran down the stairs to the library. She flung open the closed door and saw their father on the floor. Behind her Naomi screamed.

"Get Mama, get Frances," Naomi cried as she dropped onto her knees beside him. She couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.

Though she knew he carried around some kind of medication for his heart, she wasn't sure what or where it was. If only she'd paid more attention. she thought as she thrust frantic fingers into his pockets. In his shirt she found a small ampoule covered with webbed material. Amyl nitrate, the label read. She stared at it helplessly.

After long minutes her mother was there, jerking the ampoule from her, breaking it and holding the ampoule under Daddy's nose. Frances rushed in, knelt and began feeling for a pulse.

"See if Katrina got hold of Kevin," Vera ordered. "Hurry."

Katrina had, but John was dead before Kevin got there.

"There was nothing anyone could have done to save him," Kevin said later, sitting on the living room couch with his arm around Vera. "I'm sure it was a massive coronary occlusion, just as we feared might someday happen."

Naomi and Katrina huddled together on the loveseat, still in their swim-suits. Frances was making the necessary arrangements for the undertaker to pick up John's body--Naomi had heard her talking on the phone as they came into the living room.

Body. Their father was only a body now.

"John was dead before he hit the floor," Kevin went on. "Even if I'd been in the library with him when it happened, I couldn't have saved him. You know how bad his heart was."

"But he was getting used to the idea of Brian replacing him," Vera said brokenly. "We even been talking about a trip. It's not fair..."

"No one is guaranteed fairness, Vera. John led the life he wanted to. And he was very happy with you. That's more than many people have."

"Oh, Kevin, I can't bear to think he's gone." Vera began to cry.

Frances came in, sat on the other side of Vera, put her arms around her and Vera turned to her, sobbing on Frances's shoulder.

Kevin rose from the couch. "I'll leave a sedative," he said to Frances. As he turned to leave, his gaze caught Naomi's.

"You girls better go get dressed," he said. "I'm going home now and tell Samara. She'll be here as soon as she can and I'll be back, too, when I can make it. Until Samara arrives, you girls will have to handle things since Frances will be taking care of your mother."

Naomi followed him into the foyer. "I found Daddy," she said. "There was this medicine in his pocket, but I didn't know how to use it. If I had, would he be alive, maybe?"

Kevin shook his head. "No. As I told your mother, even I couldn't have saved him." He squeezed her shoulder. "If the newspapers hear about your father, they may call. Don't answer any questions. Samara can handle that later."

Naomi nodded. Kevin left and she and Katrina went slowly up the stairs to their bedroom.

"I wish I didn't foresee things," her sister sobbed. "I have to see them twice and this time it was Daddy...."

Naomi felt strangely calm, as though a barrier prevented the emotions of others from reaching her. She knew her father wad dead, but she couldn't cry.

Nor did she cry in the two days preceding the funeral. People filled the house, some strangers she and Katrina had never seen nor heard of. Friends of her father and mother, distant relatives, business associates. And even a relation of their father's first wife, a great-aunt of Samara's and Johanna's, or maybe some kind of a cousin, Naomi wasn't sure. The old woman was from Seattle.

"I didn't know she existed," Samara said to the twins as they waited for Vera to come downstairs for the trip to the funeral home. "I thought Marie had been Delores' only surviving relative--I never heard of Amanda Stevens."

"She's really old," Naomi said. "Ninety-six. Mother invited her to stay at Hallow House, of course. And her grandson, too. Only he's really her step-grandson so I guess he's no relation to any of us."

"Mrs. Stevens says she came out of respect for Daddy," Katrina said. "He must have known her. She told me he was an unusual man and the least she could do was bid him a proper farewell."

Naomi stopped listening because old Mrs. Stevens was coming down the stairs on the arm of her grandson. Naomi thought Ronal Stevens was the most handsome man she'd ever seen--tall and blond, with brown eyes. So far he'd hardly said a word to anyone except his grandmother. He must be about twenty-five or so.

As the two reached the foyer and telephone rang and Ronal visibly flinched, but quickly recovered himself. Naomi's eyes widened.

Later, in the church, Naomi listened to Father Bennett and then the bishop who had come down from San Francisco. Her gaze fastened on the white camellias atop her father's coffin--his favorite flower. A petal fell from a bloom, resting a moment on the polished wood, then sliding to the floor. Her throat tightened. The camellias were dying, too. Tears pricked her eyes, sobs wracked her body and, at last, she cried for her father.

Then it was all over, the funeral, the ordeal at the house afterward, the people coming, the phone calls.

Finally the house guests were gone--all except Amanda Stevens, and her grandson, Ronal. .

"He's such a help to me," Vera said to Kevin when they were gathered for a family conference. "Did you know Ronal's an accountant? He plans to go to Harvard Law School this fall."

"So you've told me," Kevin said. "But none of us really know him."

Vera raised her chin. "I appreciate the trouble he's taking to explain things to me. John's lawyers believe all women are idiots so they don't bother with me, thinking I couldn't possibly understand anyway. Ronal is patient. And he doesn't chatter."

Naomi saw Kevin raise his eyebrows at Samara, who shrugged.

Vera touched Kevin's arm. "I know you'd help if you could. And I do realize how busy you are. Don't worry about Ronal--he's a fine young man. I do need an advisor. Brian can't stay here--he's already had to go back to San Francisco. Thank heaven John began to work him into the business a year ago. At least Brian has some knowledge to draw on. And Johanna can't stay at Hallow House, I don't expect her to."

Johanna took Vera's hand. "I will if you need me." Naomi saw how strained and pale she looked after only three days here and bit her lip.

"I know you mean it, dear," Vera told her, "but no. I have my two girls with me for comfort and Ronal to advise me. That will do nicely."

Naomi's stomach clenched. She didn't want to be trapped here, though she'd stay if her mother really needed her.

"I'll see if Grace has started lunch," she said, unable to bear sitting still any longer.

In the kitchen, Naomi found Ronal sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking to Grace. Grace was Mervin's wife and had become the cook at Hallow House when Irma finally retired.

"Hi," Naomi said, smiling at Ronal.

He smiled at her and started to say something when the automatic timer on the oven went off with a loud ring. While Grace and Naomi stared in amazement, Ronal crouched down in his chair, hands raised protectively over his head.

Chapter 38

"What's the matter with that man?" Grace asked in a husky whisper as they both stared at Ronal, still crouched in the kitchen chair, seemingly frozen into position.

Naomi shook her head, then went over and cautiously touched Ronal's shoulder. He winced away from her touch, at the same time turning toward her with an expression of such malevolent hatred that she took a step backward. Even as she did, his face changed, became more normal and he put down his arms and straightened in the chair.

For a long moment no one spoke.

"I'm sorry if I've upset you," Ronal said at last.

"Looks like you were the one upset," Grace told him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated as he rose. "Thank you for the fine coffee, Grace."

When Naomi saw he intended to leave with no further explanation, she quickly told Grace about lunch and followed him out the back door. The August heat hit her like a tangible force and she was perspiring by the time she caught up to him on the path to the stables.

Once she joined him, she couldn't think of a thing to say except, "Why did you act so weird in there?" and that didn't seem appropriate. They walked in silence until they came to the stables.

"I suppose you don't ride in the heat of the day," he said finally.

"No, we don't."

She took along with him by the corral fence, both leaning on the rail as they watched the horses. Perspiration trickled between her breasts. It was just too hot to stay outside.

"Would you like to swim?" she asked.

He took such a long time answering her she had given up by the time he turned and looked at her. "Swim?" he echoed.

"In the pool. If you didn't bring trunks we have spare ones that should fit."

She noticed his eyes were a lighter brown than hers, almost yellow, like the tiny wedge in her left eye. They reminded her of the eyes of a hawk.

Suddenly he smiled, transforming the somberness of his face, making him look younger. "I'd like to swim," he said. "It's too hot to do much else."