Hallow House - Part Two (2 page)

Samara was fearful, yet excited about going off to school. "I won't know how to talk to anybody," she said to Vera.

"Of course you will. You're a reader, talk about books. You ride, talk about horses. You're a girl, talk about boys."

Samara giggled and the sound made Vera blink back tears.

"Frances told me I was 'pretty as a picture.'" Samara's voice was uncertain.

"You know Frances always says what she thinks."

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"I told you so months ago and I haven't changed my mind."

"Will you and Daddy come see me at St. Bianca's?"

"Of course. Don't forget it's my Alma Mater."

Samara's eyes clouded. "I only wish Sergei..."

"Don't dwell on the past. There's no changing what happened."

"Do you think he--he went to hell?"

"My father taught me not to believe in hell." Vera's voice was firm. "Whatever is left of Sergei is free, not trapped in madness as he was."

Samara's face brightened. "Oh, I hope so."

When Samara came home on April, all preparations for Vera and John's marriage were in place. The wedding itself was a mixture of joy and sadness. Vera mourned for her father, knowing he would have liked John, would have been interested in Hallow House and its history. He would have been pleased to see her marry the man she loved.

She watched John as he waited for her to join him at the church altar. His face was set and cold, making her wonder if he was thinking of another ceremony years ago, when he waited not for her, but for Delores. He must have loved Delores then and believed in their happiness.

Remembering how she'd cautioned Samara not to dwell on the past, she put such thought away from her and placed her hand on Stanley Aaron's arm to be led down the aisle. She loved John; she'd make him happy.

Aunt Adele and Theola had come to the church for the ceremony--their first outing in years, They sat next to each other in a front pew, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed. Vera made up her mind she'd plan more activities for them. The old should not be shut away.

Marie, pale-faced and shadow-eyed, was maid of honor. Though her salmon pink gown was new, it seemed to fit her too tightly--she looked bloated. She kept refusing to see a doctor--perhaps Vincent could persuade her. As best man he stood next to John, looking far happier than the groom.

Was John regretting his proposal? He turned and caught sight of her and her heart lifted as the warmth of love filled his eyes. She smiled at him. There weren't many people in the church--the family and a few close friends like Stan who'd flown in from New York to give her away. Vera didn't mind how few. The important thing was to be married to John, to be his wife.

"...take this man..." Father Thetis was saying.

Yes. Forever.

As she and John came back down the aisle, Vera heard Johanna cry, "Mama, mama."

"Now, now, precious," Frances told her. "You can go to you mama later."

Johanna began sobbing as though her heart would break. Vera stopped and lifted the baby from Frances' arms. "Here I am, sweetheart," she crooned, wondering how many brides walked out of the church carrying another woman's baby.

John gave her an indulgent smile. "All right, but I absolutely refuse to take her with us to Manila."

The honeymoon trip to the Philippines was something Vera knew she'd never forget. The exotic places, strange tongues and complete foreignness of the surroundings were fascinating and yet, no more than a background for the consummation of her love for John. She realized how wise was the choice of traveling so far from Hallow House, because they'd left the past behind as well.

John was a different man. His natural warmth and affection broke through the barrier of unhappiness and grief from the past. He looked and acted younger. Yet, watching him, Vera saw his mind was sometimes not on her or the sights about them. Hallow House, she thought. He longs for home. She vowed to think of it as home, because home for her would always be where John was.

But when the Packard pulled round the last curve and she saw the white gleam of Hallow House rising about the dark greens of the orange grove, her heart contracted and a tremor ran through her, though the summer day was unpleasantly hot. Nausea rose in her throat and she took a deep breath. If, as she suspected, she was pregnant, then this was foolish behavior for an expectant mother. She was a nurse, she didn't believe old wives' tales, but it stood to reason unnecessary agitation was good for no one.

As the car passed between the pink marble snarling wolves that guarded it, Vera closed her eyes and tried to picture Johanna in her mind, but gave up. Fourteen months old! They'd left on the Clipper just after Johanna's first birthday in May. She was walking now, Frances had told them when they'd called from San Francisco. Vera let the anticipating of seeing Johanna replace any negative thoughts.

The days passed and Vera forgot her momentary twinge of panic at the sight of Hallow House. Johanna, toddling about, was happy and loving. Though she was having some difficulty speaking, and tired easily, her development appeared normal/ Frances stayed on to care for her and, Vera admitted, to become her own companion as well. She enjoyed the older woman's bluntness and honesty.

Marie had left immediately after the wedding, asking Vincent to drive her to the train. There hadn't bee a word from her since, seemingly she'd disappeared. Vera worried that Marie might think she wasn't wanted, worried than she might be ill somewhere and unable to contact them.

John told her quite curtly to put Marie from he mind, so she tried to. Vincent was in and out. He'd visited Samara at summer camp in place of Vera, who'd been too nauseated to make the trip. She'd see Samara when she came home at the end of the summer, several weeks before returning to school.

But by the time Samara got home, Vera was in bed recovering from a miscarriage.

"You're young and healthy, there'll be plenty of babies ahead ," Frances assured her.

Vera knew she was right and yet depression lay heavily on her like the blanket of heat hanging over the valley. A part of her insisted the baby had been killed by Hallow House as compensation for Sergei--an eye for an eye. But she never voiced the thought to anyone and strove to push it from her consciousness,

She had John. She loved him as he loved her. Johanna called her mama and Samara sought her company, obviously fond of her stepmother. Vera told herself firmly she had no reason to lie abed and cry. So she got up and focused her attention on Samara.

Samara was still a quiet girl, but her entire appearance had changed in the time she'd been away. She now had an eager, alive look and she smiled often. Though she never would be as dramatically attractive as Sergei had been, she was pretty, with her brown eyes and curling black hair. Best of all, her mind seemed clear of the darkness that had brought Sergei's death.

"What are you interested in," Vera asked her. "What courses do you like best?"

"Literature mostly. I think maybe I'd like to teach."

Vera smiled at her, knowing Samara would never have to earn her living, but not discouraging her from her ambition.

Samara left for school and fall arrived. The household bustled with the picking of apples, peaches and pears and the extra work of preserving them, Additional help came to the outbuilding that held the canning kitchen,

Vera watched amazed. "With all the canned food from the Lobo plants," she asked John, "why must we put preserves away as though our survival depended on them?"

"That's the way it's always been done," he said, which was the end of it. John, she'd learned, had a streak of inflexibility when it came to changing any tradition of Hallow House.

In November, Vera realized with both fear and happiness that she was pregnant again. "What if I lose this one, too?" she said to Frances.

"You won't." Frances sounded so positive that Vera took herself in hand and tried to forget her fears.

By the time Marie returned unexpectedly in February, having hired a car to bring her from the train, Vera was wearing maternity clothes.

"Congratulations, Marie offered with a wry smile. "I hope you'll let me stay for a while. I've run completely out of money and have nowhere else to go." She seemed drained of vitality and looked old despite her smart suit and newly waved hair.

Vera hugged her. "Stay forever if you want. This is your home."

Marie stared at her, an enigmatic expression on her face. Dislike? Envy? But she thanked Vera and settle back into the routine of the house.

"Where's she been?" John asked Vera a few days later.

"She doesn't talk about it. I've asked and Marie just changes the subject. She's drinking quite a lot."

"Do you mind having her here?"

Vera shook her head. "She has nowhere else to go.. We'd be cold-hearted not to take her in."

It wasn't quite a lie. Vera didn't begrudge Marie living in the house, but having her around was a constant reminder of Delores, though Marie seldom mentioned her cousin's name.

"You treat that poor little changeling better than Delores ever would have," Marie had said one day, watching Johanna's efforts to speak. "John, too, as far as that goes. I thought once..." She stopped and looked away.

What had she thought? That John might marry her? Would he if I hadn't come? Vera shook her head. No, John would never have married Marie.

One day in March, Marie, Vera and the two old ladies were having tea in the living room, a newly established custom. Adele and Theola often came downstairs since Vera had asked John to have a chair lift installed to convey Adele up and down the staircase. Marie usually didn't join them for afternoon tea, but Vincent was home and she made an obvious effort to drink less alcohol and be more sociable when he was around.

"Are you sure you started this baby in November?" Marie asked, staring pointedly at Vera's girth.

Adele shook her head wisely. "Not baby," she corrected. "Babies. Vera will have twins. The Gregory wives all do sooner or later"

"Twins," Theola echoed. "Of course."

Vera had heard this from them before, Though she didn't take them seriously, lately she had begun to wonder if they might not be right.

When asked, Dr. Whitten insisted it was early to tell. She'd been to consult a San Francisco specialist and was scheduled to deliver at St. Sergius. She and John planned to go up to the city several weeks before her due date in July and stay until the birth. Meanwhile, Dr. Whitten saw her regularly in Porterville.

In May they celebrated Johanna's second birthday. Though she seemed normal in every other way, her speech problem persisted--a stammer combined with stuttering, making her difficult to understand. She was especially fond of her Uncle Vince, and never forgot him during his absences.

Summer drenched the valley in heat, as usual, and Vera kept mostly to the air-conditioned house, By now both Dr. Whitten and the specialist had confirmed she was carrying twins. She tried not to think about having two babies, tried not to remember what had happened over the years to one of every pair of Gregory twins. Death. Madness. Surely Hallow House couldn't be responsible for such tragedies. Or could it?

In July she began the arrangement to leave for San Francisco with John. The night before they were due to leave, Vera woke in the night feeling someone had called her name. John slept on next to her, warm and oblivious. She could see nothing in the dark room and after a while she drifted back to sleep...

Vera knew she was somewhere she didn't want to be. Even in the dark she could feel evil about her and she suddenly realized where she was. In the room behind the black door. "Of children two, the one must die," someone, something invisible whispered. The words dropped into her mind like lead weights...

Vera woke, heart pounding to find her membranes had ruptured, fluid pouring from her. Alarmed, she sat up and started to slide out of bed to get Frances when the first contraction hit her.

Identical twin girls, Naomi and Katrina, were born prematurely at Hallow House with Dr. Whitten arriving barely in time. They were large for preemies, five pounds for Naomi and four pounds, ten ounces for Katrina. There were no complications for mother or daughters.

I've won, Vera thought dazedly as she lay in bed the next morning. The house didn't take one of my twins from me. And it won't, she vowed. I'll not let it.

Chapter 22

A new decade began when January ushered in 1940, one Samara Gregory hoped would be full of wonderful surprises She hummed as she drove her yellow convertible east toward the Sierra foothills. The top was down and the warm afternoon breeze blew through her shoulder-length black hair. She didn't mind the heat--a hot summer seemed right. A hot summer was home.

Samara looked forward to seeing her family. Her memories of growing up were full of pain and fear, but Hallow House was a happy place now and she'd done her best to forget the past.