My heart stopped and then started again, pitter-pattering so quickly, I thought I wouldn't have the voice with which to speak. I walked slowly into the living room and took the receiver from Aunt Sara, wondering if the wires could hold the heat of the words I wanted to scream over them.

"Hello," I began.

"Hi, honey. I just have a couple of minutes, but-"

"Don't you dare rush off again, Mommy. Don't you dare."

"Oh Melody, we're in Los Angeles and I'm-"

"How could you lie to me so much?" My throat started to tighten almost immediately. I thought I would choke before I got out my words. "How could you have kept your real adoptive parents a secret?

Why didn't you ever tell me you and Daddy grew up together?"

After a short pause, she replied, "Your father didn't want to tell you all that, Melody. He wanted to protect you from all that was unpleasant."

"Don't put it all on him, Mommy. He's dead. He can't answer."

"Well, it wasn't just me! He wanted it that way, too," she proclaimed.

"Why?" I cried. "Why not tell me the truth about how you really met and fell in love? Why not tell me why the family was angry?" I demanded. The tears were burning under my lids.

"Chester thought you were too young to understand."

"But I'm not too young now! Why did you leave me here without telling me the truth, the whole truth about you and Daddy? How could you do that?"

She was quiet a moment and then she admitted, "I didn't think you would stay if I told you all that, Melody, and I didn't have much choice at the time. If you are as old as you claim you are, you'll understand."

"Mommy, these people hate you and they hate Daddy for what you two did. How can I stay here?"

"Uncle Jacob will never throw you out, Melody," she said. "And he has no right to be so high and mighty, believe me. Don't let him talk down to you. Don't be a troublemaker, but don't take his, . .

garbage,"

"I can't stay here, Mommy, and I want to know more. I want to know everything."

"You will. I promise. You're obviously old enough now to know our side of the story. Who told you anyway, Jacob, Sara, or Olivia?"

"I saw your pictures. Grandma Olivia put all the pictures of you and Daddy in cartons," I told her.

"They don't mention Daddy's name, they don't talk about his accident. It's horrible."

"Olivia's doing, I'm sure. The whole time I lived there, I could never call her anything but Olivia, you know. I could never call her mother," she said with bitterness.

"But why did they take you into their home?

Why did they adopt you?"

"It's a very involved story, honey. That's another reason why I couldn't get into it before I left Provincetown. Just hold out a little longer. Put up with their snobbery a little longer," she pleaded.

"Mommy, you never called Mama Arlene to get my things sent up here."

"I'll do it right after I hang up," she promised.

"And Alice called and told me Papa George was in the hospital, very sick."

"It was expected, honey."

"Mommy, I can't stay here. Please come back for me or send for me. I'll meet you anywhere and put up with anything, travel, running about from city to city. I'll never complain about anything. I promise. I swear."

"Melody, I'm in Los Angeles! I'm in Hollywood! I have appointments, auditions. Can you imagine? Something wonderful is going to happen and soon, just as I told you. Give me a little longer.

Finish school there, at least. Then, during the summer months-"

"Mommy." Tears streamed down my face.

"Why did they hate you for marrying Daddy? Why didn't they accept it? You weren't blood relatives."

"We disobeyed Queen Olivia," she quipped.

"Just stay out of her way. She'll die soon and put everyone out of their misery. Ooo, " she said, "I just hate talking about them. They made us suffer. Get everything you can out of them. They owe you. That family owes us more than it can ever repay. Do your own thing and ignore them. Uncle Jacob won't throw you out."

"Mommy-"

"I have to go, honey. I have an appointment. I"ll call Arlene. I promise."

"But where are you? How can I reach you?"

"We haven't settled into one place yet. I'll let you know," she said. "When we're together again, we'll have a long talk, a grown-up talk, and I'll tell you everything, every last crummy detail. Be good, honey."

"Mommy!"

The click sounded like thunder.

I shouted louder. 'Mommy!" I squeezed the neck of the receiver with all my might and screamed into it again.

Aunt Sara came running.

The front door opened and Uncle Jacob stopped in the corridor with Cary right behind him.

I was crying hysterically now, bawling without control. "What's going on here? What's the meaning of this outburst?" Uncle Jacob demanded.

"She was talking to Haille," Aunt Sara explained. "Well I won't have this sort of emotional display. Stop it!" he commanded.

I cradled the receiver slowly and then wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, glaring at him. The fury in my eyes took him aback and he blinked.

"Go clean yourself up," he ordered, "or you won't have any dinner."

"I don't want any dinner. I don't want anything from you," I said through clenched teeth.

Uncle Jacob reddened. Cary's mouth fell open and Aunt Sara gasped.

"I don't want anything from this. . this horrible family." I ran from the living room.

"See!" Uncle Jacob cried after me as I started up the stairs. "And you thought she was like Laura.

That's Haille"s daughter."

I stopped abruptly and turned, glaring down at him.

"What's wrong with being Haille's daughter?

Why do you always say that? What did she ever do to you?" I demanded.

He looked at Aunt Sara and then at me. "She didn't do anything to me. What she did, she did to herself and to Chester."

"What? What?" I screamed.

"Go up to your room until you calm down," he said, visibly shaken. I didn't move. What was it Mommy kept saying: he would never throw me out?

How did she know? What made her so sure? Every time I uncovered one secret, there were ten more bundled beneath it, I thought. "Go on," he ordered.

"I'll go where I like when I like," I said defiantly. My boldness surprised us both and left him stuttering for the right words. I trembled, but tried to look calm so I could continue to face him.

"Ah, suit yourself," he finally said. "I'll have none of it. You wanted her here, you put up with her,"

he told Aunt Sara. Then he waved his hand as if chasing flies and marched through the house. Cary stared up at me, a stunned look on his face.

"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear," Aunt Sara mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Sara," I said. I took a deep breath. "I have to rest for a little while."

She looked up at me sadly and shook her head.

"It was all going so well, wasn't it, Cary?"

"Let her be," he said and followed after Uncle Jacob.

I turned and continued up the stairs to my room.

Behind the closed door, I let my tears of sorrow, tears of fear, and tears of loneliness flow freely.

I was on my stomach on the bed so I didn't hear May knock and then come in to see me. I felt her little hand on my shoulder and turned sharply. She looked as if she was about to cry because I was crying.

"What's wrong?" she signed.

I smiled through my tears. "I'm all right," I told her. "I'll be all right."

Then I sat up and hugged her, clung to her as tightly as I would cling to a life raft in a sea storming with turmoil.

13.

Angry at Them All .

Mainly because I didn't want May to be upset any more than she was, I went down to dinner. I had no appetite. The heavy atmosphere of the night before was nothing compared to the cemetery stillness that pervaded the dining room tonight. It was so quiet I could hear Uncle Jacob crunching his food between his back teeth, and Aunt Sara's little whimpers between her bites and swallows. The tapping of silverware, clanking of dishes, and pouring of water created the most noise. Everyone spoke in monosyllables or short sentences whenever he or she spoke.

"Bread, Jacob?"

He grunted yes.

"Would you like more chicken, Cary?"

"No, Ma."

Cary watched my every move. I ate like a bird, pecking at my food, keeping my eyes down. I didn't know whom I was more angry at: Mommy, Uncle Jacob, my grandparents. Maybe I was equally angry at all of them. I was even angry at myself for agreeing to remain here. How could I have believed Mommy's promises? One lie spun another when it came to the Logans, and Mommy had caught their lying disease.

Aunt Sara tried to cheer me up by talking about the Blessing of the Fleet, a June festival that took place yearly in Provincetown. She said there would be lots of boats, people in costumes, great food and games. Whenever she asked Uncle Jacob about something, he would simply grunt a yes or a no, his eyes mostly on me. I sensed that I had scratched a scab on his memory when I had screamed my questions at him in the hallway. He didn't look irritated as much as stunned.

Aunt Sara made a final attempt to inject some joviality into our dinner by mentioning Cary's English test result. Uncle Jacob expressed surprise and approval, but when Cary explained that it was all because of my tutoring, Uncle Jacob grew dark again.

"Laura used to help Cary like that, too.

Remember, Jacob?" Aunt Sara said smiling.

"I remember," he said. "I have something to do at the dock." He pushed himself away from the table and stood. "Don't make me any coffee."

"I'll have some hot water steaming for tea for you when you return, Jacob," Aunt Sara promised. He glanced at me once more, then left the room.

"If you have homework, you don't have to help me with the dishes tonight, Melody," Aunt Sara said.

She was trying her best to make things right again. I felt sorry for her, but even sorrier for myself.

Cary's eyes were fixed on me. They were strangely haunted. Was he still angry at me or did he feel sorry for me? From the day I arrived, I had felt Cary carried deep secrets in his heart, secrets that resembled chunks of lead weighing him down, making him grow older faster. It was why he seemed so bitter all the time and why the girls at school saw him as Grandpa.

"I do have something to do tonight, Aunt Sara,"

I said. "I'm going to study for a test with a friend."

Cary looked down, his head lowering as if in prayer. "Oh? Well . . yes, Laura did that once in a while.

Who was it she studied with, Cary? Sandra Turnick?"

"Yeah," he said quickly, but he didn't look up.