Melody (24 page)

Uncle Jacob wore a dark blue suit and tie and Cary wore a light blue sports jacket, tie, and slacks. His shoes were spit shined. May looked sweet in her pink cotton dress with her hair tied in a pink ribbon. She wore black patent leather mary janes. Aunt Sara had on a dark blue, high-necked dress with a belt at the waist. As usual she wore no makeup and only the locket for jewelry. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun and held there with a bone-white comb.

They all stared at me when I entered. I was being inspected. I waited for approval. Cary's eyes widened and then went darker before he looked away. I was sure it was because I was wearing another one of Laura's dresses—this time a pretty cream-colored one. I couldn't wait for my own things to arrive.

“Well, she looks very nice, doesn't she, Jacob?” Aunt Sara asked meekly.

“Aye,” he said reluctantly. “Did you talk to her about her behavior?”

“Not yet,” she said.

“What have I done now?” I asked.

“It's not what you've done. It's what you might do,” Uncle Jacob remarked. Then he turned to Sara. “Well, do it and then come out,” he said rising. He nodded at Cary, who got up quickly, took May's hand, and left.

“Just sit a moment, dear,” Aunt Sara said. “There are a few other things you must remember.”

“What other things?” I sat on the settee.

“Olivia, your grandmother, is very particular about how children behave in her home.”

“I'm not a child,” I said. “I'm nearly sixteen.”

“Oh, I know, but until you're married yourself, she thinks of you as a child.” Aunt Sara obviously spoke from her own experience.

She stood before me like a teacher in school. “Most important, speak only when you are spoken to. Olivia thinks it's rude for a young person to demand answers from adults or give an opinion without being asked to do so. And especially, never, never interrupt when someone else is speaking.”

“I don't,” I said.

“Good. Remember to say please and thank you and never sit with your legs apart. Put your hands in your lap. At the table be sure to bring the spoon and the fork to your mouth and not vice versa, and remember to keep only one elbow at a time on the table. Always dab your lips with your napkin after you put something in your mouth. Sit with your back straight and don't stare at
people,” she recited as if she had memorized some etiquette book. “Do you understand everything?”

I nodded.

“It doesn't sound as if I'm going to enjoy myself very much,” I muttered. She went white.

“Oh dear, never say such a thing. Please! Keep such thoughts under lock and key.”

“Don't worry, Aunt Sara, I've never embarrassed my parents. I won't embarrass you.” I rose, my legs very reluctant, and left the house. Cary and May waited in the rear of the car. I got in beside May.

“How far away is it?” I asked Cary softly.

“About twenty minutes.”

My teeth were actually chattering in anticipation of Grandma Olivia's disapproval and rejection. But why? I was finally going to meet my father's parents, my real grandparents. I should have been excited. All the grandparents I ever heard of loved their grandchildren dearly.

But, I reminded myself, our family is different.

From the outside, my grandparents' house did not look cold and impersonal. It was a large, wooden clapboard house.

Aunt Sara said that the house was very old and prestigious, the original portion having been built around 1780. Cary shook his head and raised his eyes toward the car ceiling when Aunt Sara went into her lecture about the house, a lecture I guessed Grandma Olivia had given her so many times it was stored forever in her memory.

The grounds were certainly the prettiest I had seen on the Cape. The beautifully cared for green lawn was uncommon, and the flower garden was the most elaborate with its baskets of gold, purple pansies, roses, and geraniums. There was a small duck pond to the right with about a dozen or so ducks in it. Most impressive were the large, blooming red maple trees. Between two on the far right was a bench swing with a canopy over it.

We stopped in the driveway and got out. Aunt Sara
immediately brushed a loose strand of my hair back and straightened the shoulders of my dress.

“Leave her be,” Cary muttered.

She stood next to Uncle Jacob as he rang the bell, the three of us standing behind them. A moment later the door opened.

I set eyes on my grandfather for the first time in real life. Up until now, all I had seen was that old photograph of my daddy.

Grandpa Samuel was still a tall, straight-standing man with a proud, strong demeanor. I saw my daddy's resemblance in his face immediately. Daddy, as did Cary, shared his green eyes. Grandpa Samuel's hair was mostly gray, but he still had a full head of it. It was trimmed neatly at the ears and sides, with the top brushed back. There was a trace of a wave running through it.

Daddy had had the same straight, firm nose, but Grandpa Samuel's lips were thinner and his chin more carved. He had Daddy's large hands and long arms, and for a man his age, I thought he had very firm, full shoulders.

“Hello, Jacob, Sara,” he said. He gazed past them quickly to focus on me. I thought I saw a small smile at the corners of his mouth, the same light and gentle twist that Daddy often had. He looked quickly at Cary and May. “Children.”

“Hello, Papa,” Cary said.

“Hello . . . Pa pa,” May said.

“This is Melody,” Aunt Sara said stepping to the side to bring me forward.

“Pretty girl. Lot of Haille in her, eh Jacob?”

“Aye,” Uncle Jacob replied glancing at me.

“Hello, Melody,” my grandfather said.

I didn't know whether I was to shake his hand or curtsey or just nod.

“Hello,” I replied. “I'm pleased to meet you.” I almost added, “finally.” He nodded, holding that small smile on his lips.

“Well, come on in,” he told us and stepped back. “Olivia's seeing to the brunch, of course.”

We entered a short, marble-floored entryway with paintings on both sides: pictures of the Cape and boats, pictures of sailors. The house was full of the perfume of flowers.

Grandpa Samuel showed us to the room on the right, the sitting room. It looked like a showcase in a furniture store window. The oak floor was so polished I was sure I would be able to see my face in it if I looked down. On every table, on every shelf, there were expensive-looking glass pieces, vases, and occasionally, photos in silver and gold frames. I just glanced at them, but they looked like pictures of my grandfather and grandmother when they were younger, and some pictures of Uncle Jacob, Aunt Sara, Laura, Cary, and May. There were no pictures of Daddy.

“Sit with Cary and May over there,” Aunt Sara instructed. We took the settee on the right. Grandpa Samuel sat in the chair and Aunt Sara and Uncle Jacob sat on the settee across from us. Although he kept his eyes on me, Grandpa Samuel spoke to Uncle Jacob.

“So how was your week, Jacob?”

“Fair to middling,” he replied. “We had a good day yesterday, eh Cary?”

“Yes sir,” Cary said. He shot a glance at me.

Grandpa Samuel nodded. Then he turned toward me. “So you're Melody. How old are you?”

“Fifteen, almost sixteen.”

“Aye, that would be right.” He thought a moment and then smiled. “I hear you can play the fiddle. My grandfather played the accordion. I ever tell you that, Sara?”

“No,” she said, her eyes wide.

“I've told you the same before,” Uncle Jacob snapped at her.

“Did you? I don't remember your speaking about your grandfather playing the accordion, Jacob.”

“Aye, he was good at it,” Grandpa Samuel said,
directing himself to me. “I can still remember hearing his jolly tunes.”

“There are better things to remember than a lazy fisherman,” I heard a sharp, small voice say. We turned to the doorway to see Grandma Olivia. She stood a little over five feet tall, and wore a pale yellow dress. Her snow-white hair was pulled back in a bun as severely as Aunt Sara's, which only made her eyes look bigger and her forehead look wider. There were tiny age spots clustered at the foot of her hairline and on her cheeks. Without lipstick, her lips were a dull pink. Below her jaw, her skin hung loosely like a hen's.

There was no bend in her back, and because she had such a regal posture, she looked taller, sturdier than I was sure she was.

“You're early,” she accused, gazing at us, her eyes fixing tightly on me.

“We were ready, so we came,” Uncle Jacob remarked.

“Early's better than late,” Grandpa Samuel said. She shot a look at him and his smile faded quickly.

“Well, then,” she said, nodding at Sara, “make the proper introductions.”

“Yes, Olivia.” Aunt Sara turned to me. “This is Melody, Haille's Melody.”

Haille's, I thought. Why not Haille and Chester's? Was even my father's name forbidden in this house?

Aunt Sara nodded at me to tell me to stand. I rose and Grandma Olivia came closer. She drank me in, gazing at me from head to foot quickly, and nodded to herself to confirm some previous notion.

“Looks healthy. Tall, too, with good posture.”

Tall? I wasn't so tall, I thought, but then I realized almost anyone would be tall to her.

“Well then, what do you say?” she asked.

I glanced at Aunt Sara who nodded and smiled.

“Hello, Grandma Olivia,” I replied. The words appeared to sting her. She tightened her body and lifted her shoulders.

“We'll eat even though we're a bit early,” she said,
“and you'll tell me all about yourself. Samuel,” she ordered and he rose. Cary and May stood and Aunt Sara got up quickly with Uncle Jacob.

For a moment I felt as if we were all in some army and Grandma Olivia was the general. She started out and we followed. We crossed the hallway to the dining room.

It was a beautiful room, with dark, oak-paneled walls and a glossy, long cherry-wood table. All the chairs were upholstered with high backs. The china looked very expensive and the candle holders looked as if they were made of real gold. The silverware was heavy. Everyone had a linen placemat and linen napkins.

Cary, May, and I were put on one side, Aunt Sara and Uncle Jacob on the other. Grandma Olivia sat at the far end of the table and Grandpa Samuel on the other end. A maid brought out the brunch.

It began with a tossed salad, glittering with plum tomatoes and the greenest peppers and lettuce I had ever seen. Long loaves of bread were sliced and placed on silver serving plates. Everyone was given tall glasses of ice water. Following that, a large dish of perfectly arranged jumbo shrimp on a bed of lettuce was presented. There were small, cold potatoes, asparagus spears, and then two beautifully roasted ducks, all sliced.

Grandma Olivia took tiny portions of everything, but Grandpa Samuel ate as much as Uncle Jacob and Cary. I felt Grandma Olivia's eyes on my every move and recited Aunt Sara's instructions for etiquette at the dinner table to myself as I chewed, sipped, and reached for things.

“So then,” Grandma Olivia said suddenly, as if we were all still in the midst of a conversation that had previously begun. “Haille called?”

“Yes,” Aunt Sara said. “The other night she spoke with Melody.”

Grandma Olivia turned her cold, steely eyes on me. “Where is your mother?”

“She called from someplace between Boston and New York,” I replied.

“And how long does she intend to carry on like this?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Carry on?”

“Pretending she's doing something with her wretched life,” she explained.

I felt the heat rise into my neck and face. “She has auditions, meetings, appointments,” I said. “She's trying to become—”

“A what? A model, an actress?” she interrupted with a small, thin laugh. Then she looked at Grandpa Samuel. “An actress she's always been,” she said. He looked away and she turned back to me.

“Your father left you and your mother no money after all these years of so-called honest labor?”

“We had something, but expenses were high for us and Mommy needed things and—”

“Wasteful. Never changed a bit,” she muttered. “What did she look like?” she asked Aunt Sara.

“Oh, she's still very pretty, Olivia. Maybe she can be a model.”

“Ridiculous. With her posture? Cary,” she snapped, deciding to move on to someone else at the table, “how is your schoolwork now?”

“Not much better than it was, Grandma, I'm afraid,” he said.

“Well, what do you plan on doing about it, Cary? You don't have all that much more time left, do you?” she asked.

“I'm thinking of being tutored,” he said, shifting his gaze to me. I saw the small smile on his lips and smiled, too. Grandma Olivia caught the look between us and turned to me again.

“You are a good student, I understand?”

“Yes, Grandma. I've always been on the honor roll.”

“Hmph,” she said and shook her head. “Your mother didn't even graduate from high school, you know.”

I looked up quickly.

“Yes, she did,” I said.

Aunt Sara made a tiny gasp and brought her napkin to
her lips. She shook her head slightly at me. Was I supposed to just sit by and let Grandma Olivia say untruths?

“She told you that, did she?”

“Yes,” I said.

She smiled that cold smile again, twisting her thin lips until they looked as if they would snap. “That girl never could distinguish between reality and illusion. No wonder she's gallivanting around the country trying to be an actress or a model,” Grandma Olivia continued.

How do you know so much about my mother? I wanted to ask. You who disowned my father after he married her. But I lowered my eyes and nibbled on my food instead. Then I gazed at May, who sat eating and staring ahead with a soft smile on her face. I wondered if either Grandma Olivia or Grandpa Samuel knew how to communicate with her. All I had seen so far were smiles and nods from Grandpa Samuel. Grandma Olivia barely acknowledged her, from what I had seen.