Olivia (28 page)

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Authors: V. C. Andrews

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: Olivia
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Lying in bed so long had weakened me more than I had anticipated. Twice, I had a spell of dizziness while I dressed, but I fought it off. When I was ready, I sent for Raymond, who helped me leave the house and get into the car.
"Take me to the office," I directed.
When we arrived, he came around to help me walk, but I cast off his arm.
"I'm fine," I said. I wanted to enter my offices under my own steam so no one would doubt I was strong enough to take control of my affairs.
Our secretaries and sales people were shocked when I walked through the door holding my stomach and hiding my short breath. I had put on enough makeup to avoid looking pale. They were all overly solicitous, each offering to do something, but I shooed them off, telling them to return to their duties as I headed for my office. One look at it told me Samuel had taken it over. My desk was a sloppy mess, papers and files everywhere, a cup of coffee and a glass, still with some brandy in it on the desk as well. The room itself reeked of cigar smoke.
Samuel wasn't there.
"Open a window in here, Dolores," I ordered. My secretary rushed in quickly and opened every window. "Hasn't anyone attempted to clean this place while I was away?"
"Mr. Logan didn't want anyone in here," she explained.
"I'm not surprised. Where is he?"
"He met Mr. Brofman and Mr. Conde at the Whaler's Club for lunch," she said.
"For lunch? It's nearly three-thirty!"
"Mr. Logan never returns from lunch before four," she said and then bit down on her lower lip as if she had already revealed more than she should have.
"Never mind, Dolores," I said wiping off the desk chair and then sitting. "Let me look at some of this."
I began to wade through the documents, shocked at how many Samuel had never mentioned. There were things that should have been processed days ago and telephone messages from important clients that had obviously never been returned. I began slowly, signing as much as I could and calling whomever I could. One firm informed me they had had to go to someone else. All I could do was apologize.
By the time Samuel returned, I had gone through more than half of the backlog. When he entered the offices, I could see from the flush in his face that he had had too much to drink at lunch. His eyes looked like they were floating in his head. So oblivious and dazed was he that he didn't realize I was there until he literally entered the office and approached the desk. He stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping.
"What . the .. . what are you doing here, Olivia?" he gasped.
"Working, Samuel, catching up on the mountain you let build on this desk, apologizing to client after client for your failure to return their calls, some of which were made in desperation. We already lost the Farmingdale account, and all I could do was apologize."
"I was getting to all that. There's been a lot more to do here than you know. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you worrying in your condition," he explained.
"You thought it would help my condition to let our business suffer?" I fired back.
"I wasn't letting it suffer. I've done a lot that you don't know about," he protested.
"That's what I'm afraid of," I said dryly.
"You shouldn't be here, Olivia. The doctor's going to be very angry with you and with me for letting you be here," he complained.
"You're not letting me do anything, Samuel. I'm doing what I want and have to do. Look at this mess. Look at how dirty this place is. What sort of an example are you setting for our employees? Didn't you think I would ever return to my office?"
"Sure. I was about to get this place straightened up. I had it down on my book to call in the cleaning service tomorrow or the next day," he said. "I'll show you."
He started to sift through the documents, searching for his plan book.
"Are you looking for this?" I said holding it up. "It was on the floor under the chair."
"Well, it must have just fallen off. Now look here, Olivia. Your coming in like this and bawling me out is not going to help me keep the respect of our employees."
"What do you mean keep, Samuel? Who says you have it?" I remarked. "Just go back to your office and leave me alone to fix as much of this as I can," I said.
"I must insist you go right home," he replied. I could see that the booze he had drunk had fortified him, given him courage. He stood there with his hands on his hips, his shoulders back. "You call Raymond. Go on."
"
I swear, Samuel," I said. "If you don't get out of here this minute and let me work, I'll call the police and have you removed from the office," I fired back at him, my eyes so fixed on his face, he had to blink and look away.
"You're making a mistake, Olivia. I'm just concerned about you and our baby," he whined. I didn't move my head an inch nor did I shift my gaze. He fumbled about for a moment, sputtered like some old boat engine, and then turned and charged out of the office, nearly knocking Dolores out of his way as he crossed the room.
"Come in here, Dolores," I ordered, "and sit. You'll take notes on what I want done tomorrow," I said. She grabbed her pad and hurried into the office. "Close the door. I don't want to be disturbed," I said and we began.
Despite my enthusiasm and determination, my rage and the effort it had taken to get to the office took a severe toll on me. I ran out of steam less than an hour later and felt myself weaken. It came in a wave over my body, numbing my legs first and then making me feel as if all the weight of my entire body had been placed on my lower back muscles. The ache grew so intense, I had to take deep breaths.
"Clear off the settee," I told Dolores. Samuel had piled folders on the leather sofa. She did so quickly and I rose from the chair. Dolores could see my difficulty and nearly leaped to my side.
"Let me help you, Mrs. Logan," she said taking my left arm and putting her right arm around my waist.
"I just need to lie down a moment," I said.
"Of course. You haven't stopped for nearly an hour and a half."
I sat and then lay back. Dolores lifted my feet and placed my legs on the settee. She fluffed a pillow and placed it under my head.
"Get me some cold water, please, Dolores."
"Yes, Mrs. Logan."
By the time she had returned, the pain in my lower back had begun to travel around to my abdomen and felt like a thin wire being tightened and tightened, cutting into me. I drank the water and took some deep breaths.
"Are you all right?" Dolores asked.
"I need to rest," I moaned.
"Should I call Mr. Logan?"
"No," I said firmly. "I'll be all right."
I closed my eyes and actually fell asleep. When I opened my eyes again, Samuel was sitting in the matching leather chair beside the settee, his head back. He started to snore.
"Samuel!" I cried and he nearly leaped up.
"What? Oh," he said scrubbing his face with his palms quickly. Then he stopped and looked at me angrily. "Well, you've exhausted yourself. Satisfied now?"
"Yes," I said. "We'll go home. Call Raymond."
"I did. He's been waiting outside for about an hour. Everyone else has gone home. They wanted to stay, but I sent them off."
"Good."
"I'm glad I did one thing right in your opinion," he said. I sat up and he rose to help me stand. "Any pain?"
"No," I said. The sharp pain had gone. All I had was the continuous dull ache in my back. We started out of the office, but just as we reached the door, the phone rang.
"Just forget it," he said. "It's after hours."
"That's why it must be something important, Samuel. See who it is." He hesitated. "I'm not losing another client because of an unanswered or unreturned phone call. Answer it!"
He mumbled his complaints under his breath as he returned to the desk. I turned and waited.
"Hello," he said and just listened, his face losing color. "No, you did the right thing. We'll go directly to the hospital and meet them, Effie," he said and cradled the receiver.
"What?" I cried.
"Your father . . . he collapsed and fell out of his chair. Effie called the paramedics and they're rushing him over to the emergency room."
"Let's go," I said and started for the front entrance. "Maybe you shouldn't go, Olivia. You've already done more than you should."
"There were many times in my past when I had to do more than I should and I'm sure there'll be many times in my future, Samuel. Let's not waste another second talking about it," I said.
He put his head down and took my arm. Fifteen minutes later we pulled up to the hospital emergency room entrance and Samuel helped me out. We found Daddy had already been taken to the Cardiac Care Unit. The emergency room doctor told us there was no question Daddy had suffered a heart attack.
"How is he?" I asked.
"Critical," he said. "I've called your family physician."
They permitted us to go into the CCU, but all we could do was stand near the bed and gaze at Daddy hooked up to the monitors, the oxygen flowing into him. Doctor Covington arrived a short time later and conferred with the specialist who had reviewed the tests and Daddy's vitals. We met in the small waiting room for CCU visitors.
"I'm afraid it's rather massive, Olivia," Doctor Covington said. "He may not even regain
consciousness. You shouldn't be here. You might end up in the obstetrical unit yourself," he warned.
"This is nothing," Samuel couldn't wait to say. "She went to the office this afternoon and put in hours and hours of work. I couldn't stop her!"
"Is this true?" Doctor Covington shook his head. "I'm disappointed, Olivia."
"I'm all right," I said. I glared darts at Samuel who quickly turned to Doctor Covington.
"Stubborn," he muttered.
"Go home, Olivia," the doctor said.
"I'll stay awhile," I said, "in case he does regain consciousness. I'd like to be here if he does," I said.
"Well . ."
"I couldn't be in a better place, Doctor Covington, if something did happen," I pointed out.
He laughed.
"I suppose not. All right, but try to rest," he said. "I'll stay in touch with the CCU nurse. Right now, I'll go back and let them know you're waiting here."
I thanked him and he left us.
"I'll call Thelma and tell her where we are. Jacob's probably looking for us by now," Samuel said.
"You'd better put in a call to Belinda, too," I told him. "She's been looking for some excuse to leave the school. Now she has it," I added.
"Don't you think you're being a little too hard on her, Olivia?" he asked. I looked up with surprise. "I mean, that's her father in there, too, isn't it?"
I almost laughed.
"Yes, Samuel. That's her father, that's the man she has been unable to sit across the dinner table from. That's the man she's been unable to talk to, to be near, to help.
That's the man she's aggravated all her life. Yes, Samuel, that's her father in there dying."
"I just meant . . . in times like this, you can't harbor bad feelings," he said.
"I don't harbor anything. I just do what has to be done and say what has to be said. Don't worry, I won't make any scenes with her. Just call her. When you come back, bring me something cold to drink."
"Okay," he said and left me.
I sat there alone in the waiting room, staring out the door and thinking about Daddy. He wasn't my daddy really, but I had done more to make him proud than his real daughter, hadn't I? He loved me more. He had to. I was the one who wanted to be here if and when he regained consciousness. It would be me he saw last.
Samuel returned ten minutes later with a cold soda.
"Belinda wasn't in. I left a message," he said. "Are you hungry?"
"No, but you can go to the hospital cafeteria and get something for yourself," I said.
"You're just going to sit here and wait?"
"Yes."
"It could be hours. It could be days. You've got to think of our baby, too, Olivia," he said softly.
"I'll wait as long as I can and then we'll go home." He stood there looking at me. "I promise," I added.
"Okay. I'll just run down and get a sandwich. Should I bring you anything?"
"No," I said. "Thank you."
He left and I sat there sipping my drink. I was too tired to feel tired. It was more like being numb. I closed my eyes and lay back. I began to daydream and saw myself as a little girl wandering in our backyard, studying plants and watching the birds, especially the terns as they swooped down to pluck clams. I never heard Daddy come up beside me.
"There's a lot to learn from the sea," he had said. "Sometimes, when you're caught in a current, it's best not to fight it. It's best to go along with it and to maintain your self-respect and sense of control, maybe go faster than the current. Do you understand, Olivia?"
I thought about it a moment and nodded.
"Yes, Daddy. It happened to me once when I was swimming. A wave washed over me and I felt myself being drawn out, but I didn't resist. I went with it and popped up frightened, but I was able to get back to shore."
"That's it. Learn from every experience and you'll always grow, Olivia."
He patted me on the head and left me.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Logan," a nurse said, popping the bubble of my memories.
I sat up quickly.
"Yes?"
"Your father seems to be moving in and out of consciousness. I thought you might . . ."
"Yes," I said, "thank you." I rose and followed her back into the CCU.
When I approached the bed, Daddy's eyes were still closed. I took his hand and waited and a moment later, his eyes opened and he looked up at me. He started to move his lips. I leaned down to get my ear close.
"Yes, Daddy, I'm here."
"Olivia . . . please . ."
"What, Daddy? What do you want me to do?" "Take . . . care of . . . Belinda," he said. "Will you?" I felt my throat tighten, but I managed to get out the word.
"Yes."
"Promise . . . me," he said, his voice so low, I barely heard it now.
"I promise, Daddy," I said.
His face took on a gentle glow for a moment and then he closed his eyes.
I waited for him to wake up again, but he didn't. A half hour later, he died. I was just sitting there when the monitor sounded its alarm and the nurses came rushing to his bedside to do what they could. They asked me to wait outside. Samuel was there in the waiting room. He looked up when I appeared.
"Something's happening," I said. "They're working on him."
"Oh?" He looked terrified, which made him appear younger, smaller, like a little boy.
The nurse came out ten minutes later. From the expression she wore, I knew what she had come to say.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Logan," she said. She took my hand. Samuel rose and put his arm around me.
"Thank you," I said. "Did you call Doctor Covington?"
"Yes," she said. "Can I do anything for you?" "No, thank you."

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