Read The Dark Side of the Rainbow Online
Authors: Rita Hogan
Knowing her brother and expecting a much more supportive reaction, his unenthusiastic response baffled and hurt Olivia. Unsure of what to say, she went inside the house to find her father. The response her father had was more of what she had been looking for from Jacob.
When Josh Nelson saw his daughter’s subtle makeup and how pretty she looked, there was tenderness in his eyes. “Ah, Olivia, you look beautiful, honey. You are growing up so fast.”
The young girl reached for her father to give him a hug, then smiled at her Aunt Sarah. “See I told you it wouldn’t be too much.”
He nodded. “Your mom would have loved to have seen you.”
“I know,” Olivia said as she let go of her father and reached for Sarah. “But she’s glad I have you, Aunt Sarah, to help show me the way.”
“I love you, Olivia,” said her surrogate mother.
Later that afternoon the young girl went in search of her brother in the treehouse. As she made her way up the ladder, she could hear the rhythmic thump of something against the wall of the loft. Jacob was bouncing a rubber ball against the cedar planks. When she appeared through the opening, he didn’t stop the bouncing or even acknowledge her presence.
“May I come in, Jacob?”
He shrugged.
Concerned, she made her way over to where he sat and joined him on the long cushion they used for seating.
She waited a moment before asking, “Why are you upset with me? Please tell me, what have I done wrong?”
Thump, thump, thump was the only response Olivia received.
“Jacob Nelson, I am not leaving until you talk to me.”
He caught the ball but didn’t launch it at the wall again. Instead he held it in his hands, staring at the bright green rubber.
“Everything is changing,” was his simple reply.
Glad he was finally speaking, Olivia pressed him further. “What do you mean?”
Jacob looked at his sister. “You wanting to wear makeup reminded me that we’re growing older. I know it’s not some news flash, but it hit me all of sudden. Do you realize, Olivia, that in four short years I’ll be off to college?”
The young girl finally understood the reason for her brother’s reaction and it made her sad too.
In the rare moments when she thought of Jacob going away, she felt devastated. It was impossible to imagine living her life without seeing her brother every day. How would they manage?
Aunt Sarah had been right. Wearing makeup was like a rite of passage. Gone were the days of their carefree life. Time no longer seemed endless; moments of always seemed fewer and farther in between. As much as Olivia and her brother wanted to avoid the inevitable, the day would come when they would begin their own lives, in different homes with their own families.
It was impossible to stop the tears from welling up inside her.
Jacob reached for his sister’s hand. “Promise me, Olivia, we’ll always be here for each other.”
Wiping away her tears, she looked at him as he was glancing up at the ceiling of the tree house while saying, “We’ll keep this place intact, and one day when we have children of our own we’ll bring them here. We’ll sit on these very same cushions and tell them about all the great times we had. They’ll learn about all the worlds we’ve conquered, the castles we’ve stormed, and the lives we’ve saved.” He looked at his sister with pleading eyes. “Promise me, Olivia.”
“I promise, Jacob.”
* * *
L
ooking at herself in the mirror of her stateroom, Olivia felt the effects of that long-ago memory. She had kept part of her promise to Jacob. The tree house was intact. Unable to enter the lofty dwelling since her brother died, Olivia had asked her father to maintain the structure and to never let it be torn down and discarded. When her father passed away six months ago, she couldn’t bring herself to sell their family home.
What was it she had said to Landon earlier that morning while in this very room, as he was about to leave: “If I get lost, it won’t take me long to find my way.” The way the handsome man grew silent and thoughtful at the words had sent a shiver up Olivia’s spine.
One blissful evening with Landon in the most charming city she had ever been in may have caused her to lose her way for a moment; however, it was her promise to Jacob which gave her the courage to go through with her plan.
She heard the knock on her door as she finished putting on her lipstick. On the other side of the rich paneled wood stood Landon, the only person left standing in between her and the vow she had made to her brother.
“M
ommy, look what I drew!” Isabella exclaimed with bright childish enthusiasm.
Natasha looked away from her computer to peer down at her daughter’s artwork.
It was a picture of
The Absolution
in black crayon on white paper. Standing on the deck were two men and a lady. The first man was Gaston. His hair was colored in with a dark brown crayon. The second man was obviously Landon, his hair a lighter shade of brown. The woman standing next to her brother had red hair.
“Who is the woman with the red hair, Isabella?”
Her daughter was coloring in the water below the ship and didn’t look up when she replied. “The woman Uncle Landon loves.”
Natasha’s pulse quickened at her daughter’s words. She looked down at the screen of her laptop and stared into the eyes of Olivia Nelson. Her hair was also fiery red with beautiful curls. Isabella must have caught a glimpse of the high school year book picture Natasha had found of the younger woman and used it as inspiration for her drawing.
“Isabel, honey, what made you think about drawing a woman for Uncle Landon to love?”
Her daughter suddenly became still.
Natasha arched her eyebrows. “Isabella Marie Arnaud, were you listening to me and daddy in the hallway again?”
The four-year-old girl, who was the spitting image of her dad, looked at her mother sheepishly.
“You know what happens, don’t you, when you listen in the hallway and not tell us you’re there?”
“No, Mommy!” Isabella shrieked as she jumped up from her chair. She ran toward the living room, already giggling as Natasha chased after her.
When her daughter was in her arms Natasha proceeded to give her raspberry after raspberry on her lily-white tummy.
The little girl laughed uncontrollably, begging her mom to stop. After a fourth and final raspberry, Natasha sat with her daughter on the sofa, holding her to her chest, each working to catch their breath.
A moment later, Isabella sat up on Natasha’s lap. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I couldn’t sleep. I know I shouldn’t have listened.”
The mother brushed the hair away from her daughter’s face. “No, you shouldn’t have, sweetheart, and you have to promise Mommy that you won’t do that again. Sometimes, Daddy and I have to talk about serious grown up things that aren’t meant for little ears. If you wake up, come into the living room and we’ll let you sit with us for a few minutes. You can even ask us what we’re discussing. I may not be able to give you specifics . . .”
“What’s ‘pacifics’?”
“’Specifics.’ Um, specifics is when . . . uh . . . it’s an adult word.”
The sound of Nicholas crying saved Natasha from trying to explain to a four-year-old what the word “specific” meant.
After the children’s snack, while they played on the floor in the living room Natasha thought about her own mother. She loved the elegant and kind socialite, but she also felt a great deal of resentment toward her. Shannon and William Gray had not always been there for their children.
They say the wealthy do not stay rich because they have plenty of time on their hands, and it was true. Natasha was willing to make allowances for her father, who had a massive empire to run. Her mother was a different matter.
Shannon Gray may have been a kind and gentle mother, but it hadn’t made up for the time she chose to be away from her children when it wasn’t necessary. As an adult, Natasha also understood the demands of a wife in her mother’s position. The constant entertaining and planning of events could, in some aspects, be a full time job. It was all of the other things her mother chose to manage and coordinate that had hurt. Instead of one obligatory charity chairperson position, her mother held several.
For a period of six months, when she was ten and Landon was two, Shannon Gray had tried. Natasha remembered her saying she would only be chairing one organization and she had given the others her notice. Those six months were the happiest of her childhood. She had loved every extra moment with her mother. Shannon Gray seemed happy too.
Natasha would forever remember when things began to change. It started with the calls and the visitors.
“Shannon, the committee is falling apart without you. We need you!”
“If you come back to your position, we’ll make Abigail the co-chairperson for support.”
“Please, don’t you see how vital you are to this organization?”
Shannon Gray had been weak to their pleading. She hadn’t found the strength to say no. As Natasha grew older, she realized that not only could her mother not say no, she hadn’t wanted to disentangle herself. The most gratifying role for her wasn’t motherhood; it had been her accomplishments and accolades outside the home.
When Natasha first began working beside her father, experiencing for the first time the thrill of a high-powered executive’s life, she thought she understood her mother for the first time. The role Natasha played fit like an old pair of shoes for the men in her world; but for her as a woman, it was nearly intoxicating. To hold a great deal of ability and power in the palm of her hand made her feel invincible. To manage her family’s interest with character and integrity made her feel it even more so.
Shannon Gray may not have sat at the head of a boardroom table keeping a million moving parts in motion at once while simultaneously cutting those off at the knees who would dare to threaten her family’s interests; yet with her finesse and organizational skills, she had acquired her own fiefdom and loved every bit of it.
Everything changed for Natasha the day her parents called her about the accident and Landon’s threats to commit suicide. Sitting in her plush office at the Grand Vue while her parents’ voices echoed on the other end, it was as if her whole life came sharply into focus.
Long after the call ended, Natasha sat in her leather executive chair, remembering how at the tender age of eight her baby brother, Landon, had been her whole life. The day her mother brought him home from the hospital she knew, with adult-like wisdom, that he would need her. She knew with certainty that she would become the most constant person in his life, giving the small child what she herself never had but had always desired.
As a young girl she hadn’t balked from the reality, she embraced it. Not once did she feel burdened when she chose to stay home with Landon rather than be with her friends. Never did she take for granted the love and affection he generously gave her because of her own benevolent nature. When he wrapped his chubby little arms around her and said, “I wuv you, Sissy,” no greater words could ever be spoken to Natasha.
The day she left for college was the day the young woman thought she would die from a broken heart. At the time, it seemed that it had been harder for her to go than for Landon to see her leave. A few years after the accident, he had told his sister that a part of him had died that day too.
While sitting in her office the day she heard the news, Natasha may not have been certain if leaving Landon had been the right thing to do, but there was no doubt that he needed her more now than ever.
She called her brother the next morning, telling him to hang on and that she was coming for him. Natasha wrote and spoke to him every day while feverishly working to clear her plate so that she could bring him home with her after his house arrest was complete.
During his first two months in Patagonia, Natasha spent every day with Landon. She worked part time from home in the mornings, leaving the lion’s share of the business management in the capable hands of her vice president. Only when she saw Landon making strides did she consider going back to work full time.
To this very day a cold chill filled Natasha’s heart when she remembered the night she found Landon in the tub. The image would never be erased from her mind. For the first month after his suicide attempt, her sleep had been filled with nightmares. The worst one continued to haunt her dreams on occasion.
In order to securely tie the tourniquet on the wrist furthest away from her, she had to maneuver herself into the white porcelain basin. In her dream when she stepped into the warm blood stained water, her feet never found purchase. Instead she sank into a bottomless depth, and Landon’s lifeless body had fallen into the murky deep with her.
As Natasha’s children played quietly on the living room floor, she rubbed her eyes as if to physically wipe away the memory of the dream.
He’s alive
, she told herself before offering a prayer of gratitude that her brother’s life had been spared.
The beloved sister thought about the picture her daughter had drawn of the red-haired woman.
He may be alive, but he isn’t living
, she thought, feeling the heavy burden of sorrow she always felt for him.
She looked at the laptop resting on the coffee table and pictured the face of Olivia Nelson. The only photos she could find of the younger woman were from her high school yearbooks. Even as a teenager, she had been pretty.
Natasha had been able to locate the pictures from her freshman and sophomore years. The smile on the young woman’s face had been full of joy and warmth. With more research, she discovered there were no photos of Olivia’s junior or senior grades. The accident had taken place the summer before those years. The tragedy had left the teenager with no smiles for the cameraman while in her cap and gown. Apparently, Landon wasn’t the only one who had stopped living.
* * *
W
hen Brooke opened the door to her stateroom, it was everything Landon could do to keep his mouth from falling open. The red gown with the sweetheart neckline and three-quarter length sleeves was stunning. He appreciated the modest way she dressed. She had a classic sense of style with touches of contemporary flair. Landon also noticed the black cashmere wrap he had purchased for her draped loosely about her arms.