I wanted to cry for my mother or my father, but I swallowed back my fear and moved like someone so hypnotized that she didn’t know she was moving, let alone where she was. When I stepped into the Sutherland Room, I sat on the sofa and clasped my hands in my lap. Vaguely, I heard the moaning of a second ambulance and thought about Simon. I hated his arrogance and his self-satisfaction. He was so high and above me, which made what I had seen of him in his suite even more terrifying.

  And sad.

  I really had become his only friend.

  I gazed out the two large windows. The late afternoon sun was slipping as if the sky behind it had turned into dark blue ice. The horizon seemed to be rising to capture and hide it. I couldn’t hold my perfect posture. I sat back and closed my eyes, now vaguely hearing the sounds of excited voices and footsteps. If I tried really hard, I could hear Mommy singing in the kitchen. I would hurry to watch her dance, and she would see me standing there in the doorway.

  “C’mon,” she’d say. “Sweet Caroline.”

  And we would dance, not even noticing that Daddy had come home. Sometimes he watched us, almost forcing himself to smile, and other times he’d look in, shake his head, and go upstairs to change.

  Does the past slide out of your memory and into your dreams until you wonder, Was I ever there? Did that ever really happen?

  When does a memory become a dream?

  I don’t know how long I was sitting there, but I suddenly realized it was getting dark in the great room. I spun around when I heard the light switch flipped and saw Aunt Holly.

  “My father-in-law told me to tell you that you don’t have to wait in here any longer. The police won’t be back until the morning. Clara Jean is getting your dinner out soon.”

  “How’s Simon?” I asked.

  “He’s going to sleep now. There was no reason for Martin and me to remain there. Martin is in with his father, Franklin, and your grandfather’s attorney, Cornell Witmor.”

  She paused, looked down, and then walked over to the sofa to sit beside me.

  “I want you to tell me everything you know, Caroline. We already know Simon had been drinking alcohol, and I know you two have drawn a bit closer lately. Don’t cry,” she quickly added, and reached for my hand. “Just take a deep breath and tell me what you know. I’ll be with you when the police return. But it’s so important, for Simon’s health as well as anything, that I know exactly what went on.”

  Who else was there to trust other than Aunt Holly, even now when I could be in a lot of trouble?

  “I went up for a nap, and when I woke up, Simon was in my room. He had a bottle of bourbon and had already drunk a lot of it. He wanted me to drink, too. He said he had taken a few things from the bar.

  “I was shocked and afraid, but before anything else could happen or be said, Mrs. Lawson opened my door and saw us. She was so happy about it, too. She didn’t say anything; she slammed the door. Simon…”

  “What?” Aunt Holly asked, her eyes now sharply bright with fear.

  “He screamed ‘No!’ and charged out after her. I didn’t see anything, but I thought I heard Mrs. Lawson laugh.”

  “Laugh?”

  “I can’t be absolutely sure. I did hear her scream and what I thought sounded like her falling down the stairs.”

  “What about Simon?”

  “By the time I put on my robe and slippers, he was probably in his room. He wasn’t there at the top of the stairs. Then I heard Clara Jean scream and went to the railing, looked down, and saw Mrs. Lawson. When my grandfather saw her, he looked up and told me to get dressed and come down.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I didn’t tell him about Simon in my room or Mrs. Lawson finding us together. I didn’t tell the detectives, either. I just told them I had heard Clara Jean scream, and I told them Grandfather had sent me to get dressed.”

  She nodded. “You might have to tell them all of it,” she said.

  “Grandfather won’t want me here, and my father won’t want me, either. We didn’t do anything, but…”

  “Nobody will really believe you.” She nodded again. “Mrs. Lawson wins no matter what,” she said, not looking at me. Then she turned sharply to me. “Let’s wait to see about Simon. For now, there is no reason to tell that part of your story. Stay with what you told the detectives.

  “They’re doing neurological tests on Simon, but one of the emergency room doctors I know told me there was a good chance this was something akin to a panic attack. He might have just run to his room after she saw you two, or maybe he did something that caused her fall and then ran to his room.

  “Don’t lie,” she advised, “but don’t answer questions you’re not asked. I don’t know if you can continue to do that. You’re too honest a person. Besides, you probably have your mother’s streak of defiance. I don’t know what your father would tell you to do.”

  “He would tell me not to hide, but if I don’t, I probably won’t see him again, and he won’t be telling me anything.”

  Aunt Holly hugged me. “It’s Sutherland,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful and like a castle, but it toys with our very souls: your grandfather’s, my husband’s, and now my son’s.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Somehow… I don’t know why… you’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

  She squeezed my hand the way my mother would to emphasize her words of promise. Was it simply part of being a mother? Or did she really believe what she had said? Was I now the hope she had given up in Simon?

  “C’mon. I’ll get something to eat with you.”

  We rose to leave, and as we did, I heard the curtains rustle as if the house itself had trembled.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Aunt Holly’s doctor friend was right. There was nothing neurologically wrong with Simon. He awoke, and from what Aunt Holly was told, his doctor decided that it was some sort of panic issue. She said Simon claimed to remember nothing before his episode, except he did admit to drinking, and there was even the possibility that he had drunk too much and had some sort of severe reaction to the alcohol. There was no mention of his being with me before his episode.

  The forensic team didn’t find any evidence of foul play at the top of the stairway, and the medical examiner said there was no sign of pre-fall trauma. There was simply no proof that anyone had poked, pushed, or punched her. The detectives returned to speak with Grandfather and then, almost in a routine way, questioned me again, this time with Aunt Holly present. I tried not to make my answers sound memorized, something I could imagine Simon advising. “It’ll make you look guilty of something,” he’d surely say.

  Was there much difference between a liar and someone who skirted the truth by leaving out a fact here and there? My father was someone who could tell. Mommy had often said he was a sort of detective, trained to spot a critical detail. She had said he could even analyze a pilot’s confidence by the tone of his or her voice. I was grateful that he wasn’t in the room with the detectives.

  After they had left, Dr. Kirkwell arrived. Grandfather had called her to see if I was all right, but I suspected he wanted her to find out if I knew anything more. Answering her questions was more frightening to me than answering those of the detectives again. I did my best to hide the icy feeling that shivered down my spine. She had gotten inside me so much and so well when I was in the dark bedroom under her treatment that I was afraid she could see the whole truth. She did ask if I had seen Simon before he started drinking the whiskey. I hadn’t, so I could confidently say no and not seem like I was lying.

  “I know you weren’t fond of Mrs. Lawson,” she said. Her words hung in the air for a few moments as if she was anticipating that I would admit to something.

  I shrugged. “She didn’t like me. She proved that when she picked me up at the school that horrible day.”

  Dr. Kirkwell smiled. “Well, she wasn’t that fond of me, either.”

  She said that the best thing for me to do in order to keep my mind from thinking about the terrible event was to keep up my schoolwork. She added some assignments.

  “We do want you to stay on schedule so you can leave for Hawaii when the time comes.”

  Days later, I found out Simon had been kept in the hospital for more observation. There was even talk of him being sent to a special clinic. Aunt Holly told me that his depression appeared to be lingering, even getting deeper, and he wasn’t craving to be released. When Grandfather was told everything at dinner that night, he didn’t say anything or ask a single question.

  The following day, I asked Aunt Holly if Grandfather had asked questions about Simon before or after she had explained his condition at dinner. His indifference had shocked me.

  “No,” she said. “What’s happening to Simon embarrasses your grandfather, so he’ll do his best to avoid it.”

  “Embarrasses? Why?”

  “It’s like he thinks Sutherlands have super blood or something, and showing any sort of weakness diminishes the name. I’m sure he’s finding a way to blame Martin and me.”

  Her expression collapsed into one of forlorn reminiscence before she continued in a sadder voice darkened with the underlying anger.

  “Did you know he didn’t come to our daughter’s church service? I didn’t expect him to come to her graveyard ceremony, either.”

  She sighed so deeply that I thought her heart had certainly cringed beneath her breast.

  “Part of me is buried there now, shadows falling over the grave with the rise and fall of the Sutherland sun.”

  She started to cry softly, the memories of her baby’s smiles and whimpers flooding her eyes. Despite how much I felt sorry for myself now, I wanted very much to be a comfort to her, but I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t imply forgetting. What other solution was there for sorrow, and who should know better than I did? At least she didn’t have her baby’s burial ashes secretly stored at Sutherland.

  She wiped her eyes and smiled. “Let’s think of happier things for the moment. Tell me more about your mother and her friend Nattie. Did they really enjoy being together, despite all they had to confront?”

  “They were more angry than sad, especially about our house and the way it was taken away. But they were mostly happy in front of me, and they worked hard at duplicating my room in Nattie’s house. We were going to go to New York City for Christmas. Although I would never say it to anyone else, they were trying to turn us into a family.”

  “Did you ever feel like they had?”

  “Yes.”

  I paused and held my breath. What would Aunt Holly’s reaction to that be? Even with Mrs. Lawson gone, I felt like I was always being watched and heard. Somehow the house brought it all to Grandfather. When I returned to reading Grandmother Judith’s diary, especially toward the end of it, I sensed she’d had similar feelings. Everyone who worked here, every corner of the house that could capture an echo, reported things to Grandfather. I understood why Simon believed the basement was the safest place for your own secrets and why so many were kept down there.

  “I understand, honey. It’s not something I would tell anyone,” she said, emphasizing “anyone” so hard that I was positive she meant Grandfather.

  “Do you know anything about Nattie?” I asked Aunt Holly, immediately looking toward the doorway of the study. She had come in while I was completing a workbook assignment, and the door remained open.

  “She’s being cared for, but her prognosis isn’t very good, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh.” Never did I feel more like a child stumbling about in my grief and loss and yet terribly afraid to show it. Mrs. Lawson’s early words had never left me. I was to become a new person if I was to continue in the Sutherland family, even if I was able to become part of Daddy’s new family, and that meant totally wiping my memory of Nattie.

  Aunt Holly was staring at me hard, but I could sense she wasn’t seeing me. She was seeing something in herself. I could almost hear what she was thinking.

  “Maybe, if we’re very careful about it,” she said, speaking each word carefully and slowly, “I can take you to visit her before you leave for Hawaii. It would have to be the tightest, strongest secret you and I have ever kept. It would be risky, probably for both of us but far more for you. Your grandfather has tentacles out everywhere in the community. I don’t have any idea how much interest he’s taken in her, if at all. Martin says nothing about her, which leads me to believe that your grandfather really doesn’t show any interest. Gone and forgotten is his way. Who knows? Maybe he’s right. It’s the best formula for survival in a world that spreads tragedy and pain like butter over our hearts and minds.

  “However, I don’t even know what sort of a visit it would be for you, considering her condition. She suffered serious brain damage. It might not be worth the risk.”

  “Oh, yes,” I said after only a few seconds of thought. “I’d like that very much.”

  “Hmmm.” She thought. “I suppose we can go on a shopping spree for your clothes for Hawaii. I’ll mention it casually to your grandfather, and then we’ll take a short detour. I’ll see how difficult that is to arrange first, so don’t hold your hopes too high.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s not talk about it again. When it can happen, I’ll tell you almost moments before we do it. And we’ll have to keep track of Simon’s condition, of course. I’m there every morning for a while. Martin and I have consults with the psychiatrist.”

  “Simon doesn’t say anything about me? Even ask a question?”

  “He rarely talks to anyone, even us.”

  “What does everyone think?” I really meant just Grandfather.

  “Everyone thinks he pushed Mrs. Lawson down the stairs,” she said quickly. “Even you do.”

  I held my breath rather than answer. I obviously didn’t have to, because my eyes told her she was right. I was having nightmares about it already. I should not have worried about how I looked and gone out after him to stop him.

  “I don’t think it’s his guilt over it as much as it is what he fears Grandfather now thinks of him. I’ve been after Martin to get his father to visit. Forget about last night’s dinner and his making no comment about Simon’s condition. Not once has your grandfather asked me how he is. Right from the start, he dropped Simon’s name from his conversation, perhaps even his thoughts. Maybe Franklin Butler gives him updates just the way he does about the stock market.”

  “But there’s no one really more loyal to Grandfather than Simon. Surely he knows that,” I said.

  “ ‘Expects it’ is a better way to put it,” she said dryly. She rose. “Well, do your work. Try to put everything else aside for now.”

  She started for the door and paused.

  “I think you’re pretty smart about us all by now, Caroline, but think twice before you say anything to Grandfather Sutherland about Simon or make any other reference to your life with Nattie and your mother.” She smiled. “Your mother used to advise me never to walk around him. Just tiptoe,” she said. “I wonder if anyone ever did love him. I wonder if even Simon loves him.”

  “You can’t love someone you fear,” I said. I had recently read it in Grandmother Judith’s diary.

  Aunt Holly nodded. “You will be the best of us.”

  I watched her leave and then looked to the wall behind which my mother’s ashes waited. It still gave me the feeling she was nearby and I could talk to her, easily imagining or remembering what she would say.

  Of course, I did what Aunt Holly had suggested and kept things to myself. Weeks went by without much changing. Once in a while, I would pause at the doorway of the basement and consider going down to look at my personal things, but somehow, without Simon alongside me, and even without Mrs. Lawson watching my every move and breath, it did seem more dangerous.

  * * *

  Simon was moved to a psychiatric clinic. Apparently, Grandfather was satisfied that it had all been done very quietly. Listening hard to what was said between the lines, I understood that Franklin Butler handled the contact with Simon’s schooling. Other students, who rarely saw him, certainly didn’t miss him, and his teachers were clearly pressured to keep whatever they knew to themselves. I toyed with the idea of outright asking if I could visit him, but all sorts of alarm bells went off inside me at just the thought.

  Of course, I didn’t know exactly how the detectives had concluded their investigation, but Aunt Holly’s remark about everyone thinking Simon had pushed Mrs. Lawson clearly meant Grandfather did, too. You couldn’t even think the word “everyone” without including Grandfather in this house. However, because of Dr. Kirkwell’s report, I was confident Grandfather didn’t suspect I had anything to do with it.

  It was best to leave it at that, even though I couldn’t help feeling guilty about Simon. Once I really had disliked him to the point of not wanting to be anywhere near him. But what I eventually saw in him was his loneliness and how similar we really were. Loneliness was like a common, highly contagious disease at Sutherland. Who didn’t suffer from it here? I was sure that pain was something Grandfather might never admit to, but in my heart of hearts, I believed it was why he worked so hard and was so hard-crusted.

  The grand dinners I once recalled here were becoming a thin and distant memory. It was only Uncle Martin, Aunt Holly, and me most nights. Often Franklin Butler was there, and the discussion was primarily business-related. Once Mrs. Lawson’s funeral had been held, which was another church service Grandfather didn’t attend—instead, from what I understood, he sat in his limousine and watched the burial in the church cemetery—no one so much as mentioned her. The investigation of her death was apparently officially over as well. To me, it was as if the walls of the house had absorbed her. Sometimes I imagined her image in the corridor as if it was trying to pop out. Maybe people like her didn’t die, I thought. Maybe no place would take them but here at Sutherland, so ultimately they’d be in some sort of in-between place forever and ever, maybe even pleading for the devil to take them.

  About a week before Dr. Kirkwell announced I had completed my school year, Aunt Holly mentioned shopping for my Hawaiian clothes. It had been so long since Grandfather had taken any time to speak to me, it was as if just at that moment he remembered I was here and that I was leaving for my father’s home soon.

 

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