Chapter 21

"I don't understand it," Emma mumbled, staring at Charles, dumbfounded. "They seemed so happy together. What on earth could have happened? Did they have an argument when the three of you were outside? Is that it?"

"Well…" Charles glanced down at the floor, then back up to Emma. "Come now, Emmy… You don't really think it would be my place to discuss all the details."

"Perhaps I should go talk to Charlie," Emma said, rising.

"No, Emmy," Charles said, suddenly crossing to her and placing his hand on her arm. He glanced down and happened to notice Ann staring up, her eyes widened. "That is, I sent Charlie to bed. She was quite upset about the whole thing. I thought it would be best for her to have some time by herself before discussing the whole affair with anyone. You understand, of course."

"Oh, yes," Emma slowly returned to her seat, still staring up towards the stairs.

"Well," Charles began brightly, taking a step towards the stairs. "I think I might retire for the evening. I have the feeling I'll be sleeping quite well tonight."

"Good night, Charles," Emma said only briefly grinning at him.

Charles couldn't help but notice that Ann stared at him with an accusing expression on her face as he ascended the stairs. Something about that expression rattled him, but he tried to ignore this. He entered his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

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Charles shifted in his bed, a pleasurable sensation of total relaxation captivating him. For the first time in many months, he had slept for several consecutive hours, too far deep into his slumber to even recall any particular dream. He would have continued sleeping in this relieving way if it weren't for the fact that he felt a rather heavy object seated on the edge of the bed next to him, pinning down the blankets with its weight. He shifted about uneasily and irritably lifted his hand to feel the object. He jerked his arm away, startled by what he felt. He quickly reached towards a lamp situated on the nightstand and flicked it on. He swallowed dryly and stared.

"Pardon me, Uncle Charlie," a small voice said with feigned sweetness. "Hope I didn't wake you."

"Ann…" he muttered, struggling to sit up. "What are you-"

"Doing here? Oh, I was just waiting for you to wake up." He stared at her silently, hoping that she might elaborate.

"Very well… I'm awake now…"

"Yes, I see that," she said pleasantly. She crossed her legs and rubbed her fingers gently along the small wooden box sitting in her lap.

"Ann, darling," he said, attempting to seem casual. "How long have you been sitting there… waiting for me to wake up?"

"Oh, not too long. Just a few minutes. I tried waking you, but you must have been in a very deep sleep. I didn't really want to shake you, so I figured I could wait."

Charles leaned forward and rubbed his face for a moment, attempting to collect his thoughts. He glanced towards her, still slightly shaken. "What exactly were you waiting for, Ann?" he asked at last. She grinned darkly at him, noticing his eyes constantly glancing down at the wooden box.

"You don't know, I take it," she said, slowly opening the box.

"I don't know what, Ann? Please, this is no time for games, dear. Is there something you need to say to me? Is there something in the box I need to see?"

Ann's eyes shot up, a triumphant smile forming within them. "The box? I'm glad you took notice. Yes, I'll say you should definitely see what's inside the box."

"Well, let me see it! Ann, it's…" he picked up his pocket watch from the night stand. "It's three in the morning! What could possibly be so important that-"

"Before I let you see the box," she said, closing the lid. "I'd like to hear the truth from you, for a change."

He stared at her for a moment in awe. "The truth? What makes you think I haven't been telling-"

"You mustn't defend yourself. I know the truth." An awkward silence followed, in which Charles felt his hands beginning to quiver.

"The truth? What could you possibly know?" he asked, aware that his tone was becoming more condescending as he became more intimidated.

"I know about you, Uncle Charlie. Probably more than you know yourself. They've been lying to you this whole time, you see. Mother has, anyway. I doubt that Charlie knows the truth. Then again, perhaps she does. It certainly would explain the awkward little encounter the two of you had on the back porch a few weeks ago."

At this, Charles snatched the box from her hands and threw the lid open. He pulled out several papers and brushed through them quickly. "What's this? Why is this so very important?"

"Clearly you might need to read it in order to see the full significance of it," Ann said, rolling her eyes. He did as she advised and soon felt a cool sweat break out on the back of his neck.

"What- What is… this?" he stuttered, flipping through several pages weakly. "Is this some type of a joke?"

"Do I look like someone who tells many jokes?" Ann said dryly. "Here…" She lifted a paper he had cast to the side. "Read this…"

He held the paper between his fingers and slowly began to decipher the faded letters written upon it. Ann grinned slightly when she noticed the paper shaking like a leaf between his fingers.

"This… This can't be real… It's some type of joke, right?" he repeated, his voice beginning to quiver as much as his fingers.

She sighed impatiently. "I've already answered that…Mr. Osborne." He shot a fiery glance towards her and proceeded to rifle through the rest of the box's contents.

"How long have you known about this?" he asked at last, slamming the box shut.

"I found it a few weeks ago," she said calmly. "The same day that you and Charlie went on your…outing. I guess that's what you're calling it. My question to you is how is it possible that you never knew about this?"

"How could I have?" he asked defensively, leaping from the bed and crossing to his suitcase. "How could I possibly have known that I was…" His lips couldn't form the word.

"Say it," she demanded. "Say the word. You were… what?"

"Ann, please!" he snapped, lifting a small flask from the suitcase.

"Say it!" she ordered, snatching the flask away. He turned to her and violently lunged at her. However, she was too fast for him. She sat back on the edge of the bed, still smiling maliciously. "You'll get this when you say it!"

"Adopted! There, are you satisfied, you unfeeling little sadist? I was adopted. I am in no way related to you. That should please you greatly."

"Not necessarily. I bet it would please Charlie an awful lot though." She chuckled quietly at this.

He stared up at her, amazed by her cruelty. "I don't think I ever heard you laugh before, Ann. Now that I understand your sense of humor, I wish I never had."

"Don't pretend that any of this is my fault. After all, it was Mother who kept this from you. It's just by chance that I happened to come upon it. You know, when I invited you to come here, I never expected anything as utterly magnificent as this to present itself."

"You didn't invite me," he said forcefully. "Your mother-"

"My mother did nothing!" Ann said with a scoff. "Charlie told her not to even mention the wedding to you. Maybe Charlie knew that you'd be just strange enough to actually come here if she told you. Mother was writing a letter to you anyway. I decided to add in an invitation myself."

"Why? What do you care if I'm here for your sister's wedding?"

"Don't you understand anything?" she said, rising from the bed. "I asked you here because I knew you'd be willing to do anything to stop this wedding. I couldn't do it alone, so I needed your assistance."

"Why would you want to ruin the wedding? You like Jack Graham, don't you?"

"Very much. I just don't like him with Charlie. That's all."

"What a strange little girl you are," he said, still staring at her in amazement. "You'd actually try to ruin your sister's wedding?"

"You'd actually try to ruin your fake-niece's wedding?" she replied. "Charlie doesn't want to stay in a small town. Any ignorant person could see that. Except Mother, apparently. She should be able to do whatever she wants. She shouldn't be tied down to Santa Rosa."

"What's all this have to do with me?" he asked, his fingers beginning to shake once more.

She chuckled again. "I think you are well aware of that. Again, I know what happened out there on the back porch." He rose and crossed to her slowly. She moved slightly towards the door, unsure of what he intended to do.

"What did you see?" he asked stiffly.

"Enough. At least enough to know that all my suspicions had been correct."

"Suspicions?"

"I was eleven years old when you were here last. I wasn't stupid. I could see that something was strange about your relationship with Charlie. I'd think that anyone would have seen it. Again, except for Mother. The dear woman's hopelessly oblivious to practically everything that happens around here when you come."

"How did you know that I'd want to stop the wedding?"

"Well, honestly, I just thought that you'd come to tell her that she could do better and that Jack didn't deserve her. The fact that you'd go so far as to try to seduce her with outings and presents and… a midnight rendezvous on the back porch never even crossed my mind." He snatched the flask from her fingers and took a large gulp from it. One gulp led to another and within minutes the entire flask was empty. Ann sighed with satisfaction. "Well, I guess I've tormented you enough for one evening. I'll say good night for now, Uncle Charlie. Oh, I suppose I can't call you that anymore, can I? Very well. Good night… Mr. Osborne." She quickly abandoned the room before he could make a reply, leaving him to brood in his own traumatic misery.