Movements of clouds , splash of sun on giant silver wings , drone of engines. Olivia's eyes moved away from the sky and down to her hands, folded across her lap. She stared at the scars on her left hand: three wide slashes resembling marks from a claw. Secrets, Olivia thought , as the fingers of her right hand brushed over the scars. There were always secrets, shadows of things unspoken. Dark whispers from grey caverns of time out of her memory's reach. Scars from lost years her mother couldn't or wouldn't explain. From the window of a plane, Olivia watched billows of white, runaway clouds roll against a lavender blue sky. The grey, stiff Boston night seemed to have followed her , to wrap its fatigue and despair about her like a tangle of cobwebs. But now , finally came the sun. Now, finally, another day was looming softly out of the darkness.
She shivered with the just-lived vision of her mothers flower-decked coffin. A helpless sob caught in her throat. The secrets , so long entombed in silence , were now entombed in stone . why would you never tell me , mother? Why would you never tell me who I am ? Now others wanted to know. Like a sinister and skulking predator, the dark-clad attorney had appeared at the reading of the will to challenge her identity, pounce upon her legacy, in the name of strangers. How dared they! She was Laura Jones's daughter , no matter the obscure and grasping relatives claimed. And somehow she was going to prove it. There had to be a stone of truth still felt unturned.
Somewhere.
The San Diego skyline shone dimly beneath her . In the slanted frame of sunlight , wisps of Olivia's hair frizzed white gold under the rim of her black straw hat. For her , this morning marked the dawn of new uncertainty. The black passion of grief had gradually given way to mourning , and then to the nagging ache of sorrow. Tears streaked her pale face. While the plane circled in its descent , Laura's Jones sad, sweet presence wouldn't leave her. If only it weren't too late , mother ! if only we had talked just one last time . . . Her cousin Carmen was there at the airport to meet her with a flurry of ebullient hugs and the news that Aunt Hester wasn't in town. ''it's better my mother isn't here, cuz,'' Carmen said, as she swung her yellow Triumph into the San Diego traffic . '' That way there'll be no arguments about where you stay. It'll be with me, of course! You can't imagine our excitement about your visit! Isn't it awful that it took Laura's death to finally bring our family together again?''
Olivia's pale blue eyes were misting behind her sunglasses; she was so grateful for Carmen's welcome. ''At the funeral I was thinking that we were eleven when your mother divorced Scott and left Boston. How could we have let fifteen years go by without seeing each other?'' ''How could our mothers have let fifteen damn years go by__ that's the sad part! What kind of sistership is that? Can you believe we've hit twenty-six , cuz ? Twenty-six so soon? it's only the three of us now , but we're going to be family again! I was so scared that with your concert coming up in New York you wouldn't come. I mean , all the work it must be finishing up your graduate degree. And wanting to be with your true love.''
Carmen hadn't stopped smiling once Olivia's arrival , until now. She glanced at her cousin thoughtfully . ''I don't like Richard Devi . A man too busy to attend the funeral of his fiancée's mother is automatically on my blacklist. What did busy Richard say about your trip to California? Hell, we won't be just the three of us after all, will we , if you and Richard have wedding plans?'' ''There are no wedding plans.'' ''No? A long engagement , huh? That's great! Smart and great! You'll love my pad, cuz! I have an extra bedroom since my roommate lost her sanity and got married last month. We're only one block from Mission Bay. I've been making feverish plans!'' I've been making feverish plans!''
Olivia felt , for the first since her mother's death two weeks ago, as if she were surrounded by warmth. When Aunt Hester and Carmen had flown in Boston almost as quickly as she herself had been able to get there from New York, it had been as if they'd never left. Years of separation melted away in their shared grief, shared loss, and Olivia was comforted to know she was not alone. She had a family, almost forgotten, who had come to her at once, and begged her to come back into their lives. And now , desperately, she needed them. In this California morning that shimmered as bright and warm as Carmen, she needed them. And the sea air was filled with freedom , which she also needed. Freedom from tradition and from the stiff dictates of society she had accepted all her life. Now here was the sun. she gazed out the car windows as they sped through traffic. ''Why didn't Aunt Hester tell me she was going away? She knew I came specifically for her.''
''Oh, she'll be back in a few days. She's always hopping down to Acapulco with friends. I think she needed time to gather her wits after hearing about those shirttail relations trying to take your inheritance from you. I don't know when I've seen mother so furious. How did Sir Richard take the news?'' ''Richard was afraid his parents and the distinguished law firm of Burroughs, Markson and Burroughs couldn't accept his marrying an impoverished mongrel waif.'' Carmen turned, wide-eyed. The car swerved and a horn honked. She struggled back into her lane.'' Richard couldn't have said that! No one in the twentieth century has ever said anything like that!'' ''He may have worded it a bit more eloquently, but her jaw tightened with hurt that was building itself into ragged anger ''-but not much. When I told him on the phone that these Indiana relations claimed to have proof my birth documents were forgeries, I may as well have said my mother found me in a garbage can wrapped in a newspaper. Heaven help us! Imagine the possibility that I may have the blood of beggars in my veins! released