Olivia (34 page)

"Not these days, Olivia."
"Just go see what you can find out about the midwife. Maybe she's back from Hyannis, Samuel."
He lingered as Belinda screamed again and again, squeezing my hand, pleading with me to do something.
"There's nothing to do, Belinda. The baby's getting ready to be born."
"It wasn't like this before!" She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down with such strength, I was astonished. Then she whispered, "I'm being punished for what I've done. That witch cursed me. Help me!"
"Stop it," I told her. "Be a grown-up for a change." I tore her grip from my wrist, but she clung to my dress. I had to pry her fingers away.
"Stop acting like an idiot. I'll get you some water and some cold towels for your face."
"Don't leave me! I don't want to be alone like I was the last time. I'm afraid."
"You're being absolutely ridiculous," I said and left the room, closing the door to shut off her cries of agony.
For a moment I stood there in the hallway trying to decide what I wanted more, Nelson's baby to be born healthy and well, or Nelson's baby to die just like Belinda's first child had.
I covered my face in my hands and shook my head. Daddy's dying words echoed. "Look after Belinda, take care of Belinda:"
"Belinda, Belinda, Belinda!" I screamed in the dark confines of my own mind. "What about me, Daddy? What about what I feel, what I suffer?"
I took a deep breath, gathered my wits and went downstairs to find Samuel rushing out of the house. "Isabella's back. I'm going to get her," he said.
"Good."
I took my time returning to Belinda's room. The fact is I left her screaming and squirming in agony by herself for nearly a half hour. I heard her throw something against the wall. I heard a thump and then I returned to her room.
When I opened the door, she was giving birth, her eyes so wide I thought her head would tear apart.
"Why did you leave me? Help me!"
For the first time in my life, I felt nailed to the floor, unable to do anything, mesmerized, rendered paralyzed by the sight before me. I could see the child's head! Belinda screamed and reached down like some wild animal trying to ease the fetus from its womb.
I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairway and turned to see Thelma hurrying up, Effie right behind her.
"What's happening, Mrs. Logan?"
I just nodded at Belinda.
"Oh dear, she's having it!" Thelma cried and rushed to the bed.
In the end it was Thelma and not the midwife who delivered Belinda's child.
A girl.
Ironically, although she wasn't mine, she was the daughter Samuel had wanted.
Belinda had no interest in her own baby after the birth. She didn't offer a single suggestion for a name. In the end it was Samuel who had always wanted a girl to name after his mother, Haille, who named Belinda's child.
The night Haille was born, I sat in my den and called Nelson at home. His maid answered the phone and then he came on, his voice subdued.
"She had a girl," I said. "We're calling her Haille after Samuel's mother."
"The baby is all right?"
"As far as we can see, yes," I said.
"And Belinda?"
"She's not all right. She'll never be all right," I reminded him.
"Do you need anything?" he asked, his voice testy, reluctant.
"Not at the moment. If you want to see the child, come by tomorrow night after ten," I said.
"You're making a mistake, Olivia," he said in a tired, defeated voice.
"I don't think you have the moral right nor the insight to make that conclusion, Nelson."
"Okay," he said. "I'll be there after ten."
He was. He would do whatever I asked him to do from now on, I thought. Haille was like a whip in my hand. As long as she was in my home, Nelson would be at my beck and call. It gave me a sense of power. It wasn't love, but for the moment, it seemed to satisfy me.
I quickly realized that something dreadful had happened in the dark corridors of Belinda's mind after she gave birth. She became very withdrawn, almost catatonic. Whenever she saw the baby that night, she looked at it as if she were surprised to see it. It was as though she had lost her memory of her pregnancy and especially the delivery. Even days later when she rose from her bed and moved about the room, she was like someone who had emerged from a coma. She wore a strange, blank look on her face, smiled and laughed at the silliest things, behaving as if she were not much older than Jacob. In fact, she wandered into his playroom often and sat amusing herself with his toys until I would come home and demand she shower and dress. I had Effie put her on something of a diet, but she cheated, sneaking around the house, nibbling on crackers and cookies and even stealing the children's desserts.
She avoided Haille, sometimes acting so terrified of her own child that she would tremble and cry. It was as if she thought the baby might return to her womb and she would have to give birth again.
Sometimes, right in the middle of my talking to her, Belinda would burst into tears. When I would ask her why she was crying, she would just shake her head and moan, "I don't know. I can't help it."
Frustrated, I would leave the room. The truth was I was frightened by her behavior, frightened at my inability to change it or stop it.
Nelson didn't see her the first time he came to see Haille. Belinda's door was shut and she was asleep. I greeted him at the front door myself and led him up the stairs to the nursery. Samuel, who was reading in our bedroom, came out to see Nelson. They shook hands, but said little to each other. I brought him to the nursery and he entered slowly. Thelma wasn't there, so it was just Nelson, myself and Samuel.
"Pretty, isn't she?" Samuel said when Nelson peered into the bassinet.
"Yes."
"I bet she's going to be a beauty, huh, Olivia?" Samuel said.
"We'll see," I said.
"She does look healthy," Nelson said, his voice thick with surprise.
"Babies born out of wedlock can be healthy, too," I remarked. He grimaced.
Then he straightened up and looked at both Samuel and me.
"Can I talk you people out of this? Can I offer to have her placed in a good home?"
"No," I said sharply. I looked at Haille. "She's a Gordon now. Maybe she'll never know who her father really is, but she'll always know this part of her heritage," I said.
"When Olivia's determined about something, Nelson, she's unmovable," Samuel said, smiling.
Nelson glanced at me.
"I know," he said. He looked at the baby again. "Do you want any money now?"
"When I need something from you," I said. "You'll be told."
He turned away from me quickly.
"How about a drink, Nelson?" Samuel offered him. He put his arm around Nelson's shoulder.
"Sure," Nelson said. He glanced at me furtively once more before leaving with Samuel.
I gazed down at the sleeping infant. She was pretty. I didn't want to admit it to Nelson, but I had expected her to be uglier, even possibly deformed because she was Belinda's child. My emotions were frazzled. Part of me had hoped she was going to be that way, and yet a part of me was happy she was a perfect little girl. She would dazzle people right before Nelson's eyes and he would look at me with an aching heart. It still seemed like delicious revenge.
In the months that followed, Belinda finally got so she took some interest in herself again and did her hair and her makeup, but now, she overdid her makeup and she looked foolish, even clownish. It didn't matter what I told her. She would look at me and smile, agree and then keep doing what she was doing. I grew disgusted and talked to Samuel about sending her away for a while.
"Perhaps a holiday would get her back to normal, not that I ever approved of what she called being normal," I said.
Samuel agreed and we looked into a trip for her, perhaps visiting some of our relatives in Charleston. She had been there years and years ago.
Work became demanding again. Our business went into a dramatic upswing and I had less and less time to spend at home and worry about Belinda anyway. Then, one afternoon, Effie called to tell me Belinda had left the house.
"Did someone come for her?"
"No, Mrs. Logan."
"Well, did she say where she was going?" I chastised myself for not hiding her car keys.
"Yes," she replied with some hesitation.
"Well?"
"She said she was going home, Mrs. Logan."
"Home? Did you see her drive away?" I asked quickly.
"She didn't take the car, Mrs. Logan. She just started walking."
"Walking? All right, thank you, Effie," I said and went to tell Samuel.
When we found her less than an hour later, she was strolling on the main highway. Cars were whizzing by, sometimes dangerously close, but she didn't seem to notice or care. Samuel pulled up in front of her and I got out quickly.
"Belinda, where are you going? What are you doing?"
"Oh, hi Olivia. I was just . . ." She looked about as if first realizing where she was.
^-
I was just going somewhere." She laughed. "I forgot exactly where," she said. "Silly, I know, but it's such a beautiful day it seemed a crime to stay inside."
"Get in the car, Belinda," I ordered and opened the door. "Come on, get in," I said.
"Are we all going somewhere?" she asked and got into the car.
"Yes," I said. "We're all going crazy."
She thought that was funny. We brought her home and I saw that she went up to her room.
"She's in no condition to go on a holiday yet, Olivia,"
Samuel said. "Let's just do what we can to get her healthy."
"I just don't have the time for this now, Samuel," I told him. "She's got to snap out of it herself and she's got to do it immediately."
He shook his head as if I were talking gibberish. After dinner that night however, I went up to Belinda's room. She was sitting at her vanity table, mindlessly running, a brush through her hair and smiling dreamily at her image in the mirror as if she saw a much younger, thinner face again.
"Belinda, I want to talk to you and I want you to look at me and listen," I told her. She turned slowly.
"I always listen to you, Olivia," she said
"Yes, but do you hear me?"
She giggled.
"If I listen, I have to hear you, don't I?"
"You've got to get a hold of yourself now. I want you to stop behaving like a. . . a crazy woman. I want you to eat right, dress right, be judicious about your makeup and start thinking about what you want to do with the rest of your life. We can't have you continue as a burden on everyone. Do you
understand?"
"Yes," she said.
"Good."
She turned back to the mirror and continued to brush her hair.
"Actually, I've very upset. No one's called me today, Olivia."
"Your phone was disconnected, Belinda, remember?"
"Oh. Was it? Well, can you connect it again? I'm expecting calls."
I stared at her and she brushed her hair and then started to put on her lipstick far too thickly.
"This is ridiculous," I said. "It's coming to an end right now."
I marched out of her room and went to my bedroom to call Nelson.
"I have something I want you to do," I said when he was called to the phone.
"What?"
"Come to my office tomorrow at eleven."
"I have appointments too, Olivia. I can't just drop clients like that," he pleaded.
"All right," I said softening. "When can you come?"
"I'm free between two and three."
"Good," I said.
I hung up and thought for a moment. I wasn't breaking my promise to Daddy, I concluded. I was keeping it. My conscience was clear. As I left the room, I paused at the nursery. Thelma had Haille in her arms and was rocking her to sleep.
"She's a beautiful child, Mrs. Logan," she said.
"I know."
"Belinda will be all right," she added. "I'm sure. Once she realizes what a wonderful little girl she has, she'll be fine."
"We'll see," I said and went downstairs to tell Samuel what I thought had to be done. He was upset and tried to talk me out of it, but I was confident.
The next day Nelson arrived at my office at two-thirty. Samuel was not yet back from a lunch meeting so Nelson and I were alone. He came in, closed the door and sat on the sofa across from my desk.
"Is this the way it will be forever now, Olivia? You summon me and I come?" he asked, his eyes glaring like two orbs of glass with candles behind them.
"I called you to meet with me because I need your help now, Nelson," I said and the disgusted smirk left his face to be replaced with an expression of deep concern.
"I see. What is it?"
"It's Belinda," I said. "She's not getting much better. We both underestimated the traumatic experience she has undergone," I continued, rising from my chair to come around the desk and lean against it. He followed me with his eyes.
"I don't understand," he said.
"You remember I told you she was having emotional problems after giving birth?"
"Yes, but I know that not to be uncommon . . ."
"I don't need a lecture about maternal problems. This is a more serious mental illness, Nelson. She's become . . . a burden on top of everything else."
"I warned you, Olivia. I told you keeping the baby was . . ."
"I'm not talking about the baby, Nelson. I'm talking about my work, my business, my social obligations. The baby is not a problem. Belinda is a problem."
"Do you want me to recommend a good doctor?"
"I want you to do more," I said. "You're a judge now. I want you to sign a commitment order. She needs to be institutionalized."
"What? You're joking. Institutionalized?"
"She needs serious mental treatment. She always has. This is just the last straw. My parents never wanted to admit it to themselves, but Belinda has always been unstable. Now she's practically a lunatic."
"But you haven't even had her properly diagnosed, Olivia," he protested.
"I don't expect any other conclusion anyway, Nelson. I want you to help me with this, make it smooth. There's a clinic nearby. She'll be comfortable there; only there's a waiting list a mile long. I need you to use your political influence to get her in next week."
"Next week!"
"Do what has to be done and call me with results," I said.
"I won't do it," he said defiantly.
I smiled at him.
"Won't you? You're going to shirk your responsibility?"
"I'm not shirking anything, but . . ."
"You know why she's this way, who did it to her. You didn't just impregnate my sister and produce an illegitimate child; you've caused a terrible mental problem. I should just give up and let everyone know everything," I declared. "I'm sick of covering for everyone's weaknesses."
I returned to my desk chair and stared down at the desk.
"Olivia, are you sure about this?" he asked softly.
"It's the best thing for her and for us right now," I said. "It's not easy to do the right thing, Nelson, but I've always been able to do it anyway."