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Chapter 140 — Too Deep Feelings
Mary came home when workers are finishing the studio. She surprised looks around inside of the reconstructed attic. Now there was something... native of her. Although this house in common made her feel that they're living here forever. How quickly they get used to good things.
To evening closer workers' gone and Mary downstairs alone in the living room. Her memories about Steve surfaced up. In fact she knew little of this dark terrible man though long time ago she tried to think about him as her stepbrother. Her brother... she shudders with disgust. How could she did not see it! She feels the longtime shame rising up in the depths of her soul.
"Mary--"
She jerks as if struck by something. Surprised Mason takes her hand.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing... just thinking."
"About Christy?" He knowingly looks at her.
"Not really," Mary does not want to talk about it. To voice what she remembered and felt. "Let's not talk about."
"Mary? Is something wrong?" Mason's voice clearly sounded with the alarm.
"No," she looks up him and manages to smile: "Just the conversation with my sister evoked unpleasant memories. It's all."
"OK," he reluctantly accepted her answer. "Can I help you in someway?"
"Yes," she said surprising him. "Could you pull your strings and drag in Steve Bassett's past life?"
"Why?" Mason raises his eyebrow and frowns.
"Christy thinks that she recently heard his voice."
"Is it all of fuss? But you must know what she just feels like it," Mason sat on the chair opposite her. "Basset never comes to life. Or... Wait. Do you think he could have the twin too?"
Mary shook her head.
"I'm sure that he could not. But I want to assure Christy."
"Do you think it helps her?"
"I do not know. I just talked to her--"
"I guessed it," Mason ironically said.
"... Of course she'll not want to consult with psychologists. And I understand her. But she becomes so nervous and it's associated with the past."
"And with Jimmy," Mason astutely said.
"To some extent," Mary agreed. "He knows nothing about her past. And she's afraid that he would turn away from her if he found out."
"He doesn't look like a coward to me," Mason replied. "I do not think he would alienate your sister."
"I hope he'll not. It would hard blow for Christy."
"She's a tough girl. Like is her older sister," he smiled. "Okay, I'll search in the past of your stepbrother--"
"Do not call him like that!" Mary surprised herself to the escaped a surge of emotion.
"Mary," Mason seriously alarmed came close to her. Turned her face up his. "What's wrong with you? Why are you so nervous? Look at me."
But Mary turned away and chilly rubbed her shoulders.
Mason made a step forward and put out his hand to remove hair from her face. Mary's reaction was momentary. She slapped his hand and drew back.
"Mary, what is--?"
But she jumped up and ran past him out of the house. Faces of men are messing and merging in her mind: Mason, Mark and Steve, Steve and Mark. And their nauseating touches. She wanted just one thing: run, hide herself and do not allow to be touched by anyone.
It took at least an hour before Mason found Mary in the depths of the dark garden. She sat nearby the tree hugging her knees and bent her head down.
"Mary, it's me, Mason," Mason softly said but she winced anyway. She looked up from her knees and looked at him.
He cautiously approaches, desperately longing to touch her.
"Do you understand that it's me?"
"Yes, of course," she said after a pause. "I'm sorry I acted like a fool."
Some relieved Mason sat down beside her on the grass. Slowly, very slowly reached out and takes her fingers. Mary does not react.
"I want to know what's happened," he said quietly but firmly.
"Nothing," Mary looks away again.
"I can see that you feel bad and I want to help you."
"Nothing happened," she forced herself to look at him. "I already told you--"
"I heard what you said but bad memories are not enough to make you recoil from me."
"Mason, I'm sorry. I did not realize what I was doing. The past suddenly appeared too very close."
"Tell me about."
"Why?" She finally looks in his eyes. They frightened Mason. Her eyes seemed somehow unfocused, like empty. As if she was half elsewhere and may completely never come back.
"So you can leave it behind."
Mary shook her head.
"It's impossible."
"You did not try."
"I do not want... Mason, do not ask me to go through this again."
"Do you mean... the rape? Do you remember McCormick's evil act? Is it because his appearing here yesterday?" Mason intensely looks at her.
"No. Yes... I do not know. It's so confused!"
Mason paused then gently stroking her fingers and admits: "I do not understand."
"Give me time, Mason, OK?"
"I can not see how you are suffering."
"You're not able do anything. This is my past."
"Now I know why you did it," Mason said after a pause.
"What is "it"?"
"When you're trying to melt my soul. If I was something like you are now... I can see why you could not just leave me alone."
"You're probably right. I feel like in the middle of an iceberg. I'll hurt to escape from there."
"And hurt to feel something, huh? Hurt and frightening."
"Yes, it is--"
Mason takes her palms as if trying to warm up them. He saw that risk but could not resist. He was insanely frightened by the ice statue who became his alive Mary.
"Trust me. You know you can tell me anything."
"I know," she looked at him in the darkness of the garden. "It's just... so nasty, so dirty--"
"So let it left behind. Tell me what's wrong," he takes her elbows with his warm fingers.
"Steve... he molested my sister... for many years... she ran away home because of him."
"Yes, I know," Mason quickly said.
"But you do not know that even before then... he interested in her, he... became interested in me."
"What?" Mason jerked and lets her hands out. "Mary... but I'd saw how you were like one family during the trial... How is this possible? If you aware--"
"I did not aware... Of course I would never leave Christy alone to Steve if I'd realize that he was a monster... I realized too late. You still do not know how the truth was turned out."
"I know that your sister shot him."
"But before he found Christy and she did it I finally tumble to the idea that he was the real rapist."
"Do you?"
"Me. When I realized that Ted was not the rapist I began to wonder... I just had suspicions but then suddenly the memories came and I found out the complete truth. I did remember how he touched me and didn't leave my room when I'm going to change..." she shuddered all over with disgust.
"You... Mary, may be you felt it like... an afterthought? Maybe he did not actually--"
Mary paused, and then shook her head sadly.
"We'd better then continue this conversation. Come on home."
"No. We must have it done."
"If you doubt my words--"
"I have no doubt. Just maniacs like Steve usually fixated on one victim... Are you sure--"
"I'm sure!" Mary's voice soared. "For God's sake, Mason, he told me it! He told me!"
Mason swore under his breath and then takes her hand: "Go on," he encouraged. "What exactly he said to you then?"
"He told that it was my fault that he raped Christy. What he loved me but I ran away to the monastery and he had no choice but pay attention to her."
"Bastard!" Mason blurted.
"But... he was right in some way."
"Do not be ridiculous. He was a maniac with abnormal perverted logic."
"Mason, but I'm really left Christy with him. And I actually felt something wrong with him even then."
"Mary, Mary, you were a young girl who really did not understand that you really feels. You did not throw Christy into the clutches of a maniac. You did not aware that your nasty stepbrother actually a kind of pervert."
"But I must have known--"
"Not kick yourself. The past never return."
"I know. But... it comes in sometimes. My guilt and feelings of nasty memories.'
"It seems to me or the ice begins to melt?"
Instead of answering Mary quickly hugged him and pressed her cheek to his neck. Mason smiled in the dark.
"Now that's my girl."
"I'm sorry that I scared you," she wiped her eyes with her palm. "Just all so were clashed: yesterday's the meeting with Mark and today's talk with Christy who scared me by her words Steve's voice. You know... I do not think that it was her imagination."
"Do you think someone is trying to scare her to death?"
"Maybe. But I have no idea who could be."
"Do not worry. We'll figure out how we can protect your younger sister. Just remember: this maniac is dead and never return."
"I remember. If I can erase my memories about him--"
"It's no problem. Look," Mason touched his lips to hers then kissed slowly and thoughtfully. A few minutes later he pulled away from her mouth and asked: "How are memories?"
"What are memories?" Mary pulled him back close. "Do not be distracted--"
Thirty minutes later they returned into the house and Mrs. Rold inform them about Miss Duvall's call. Christy asked to tell that she is fine as well Jimmy is. Mary had doubts that it's actually true but not showing her suspicions. Christy was not in immediate danger; the house had the good guard. And they'll work out later.
That night she's sleeping peacefully for the first time without any dreams. Mason's hand firmly held around her waist. Just in case she'll want to disappear again. He's not going to allow this. Never.
However in the morning Mason waking up and finds the empty bed. His heart almost stops dead. He abruptly jumps up, calling himself as an alarmist and walks to the nursery. Mickey's cot was empty too.
Mason rushed back tearing off his pajamas but just noticed the door leading to the attic is open. He slowly upstairs to the flight and looks into the studio.
Bright sunlight flooding the art room through the skylight. Drawing accessories were on the floor. Mary sat in front of the small easel and penciling the paper. In a few steps away Mickey snoring in his carriage under the reliable shadow of oblique ceiling beam.
Mason gave the wide smile. Perhaps he need to stop the habit ever doubt in his family. He almost had a heart attack!
Mary felt Mason's presence and looks up. She smiles and holds her finger over her lips.
Mason walks silently and scrouches down beside her. Mary tried to hide her drawing but he still managed to see the outlines of something like the street.
"What is it?" he whispers in her ear.
"The house of my childhood in Ventura," Mary whispers back. "I am trying to draw it from my memory."
At this point Mickey whimpers.
"Take him to the nursery," Mary said in a low voice. "I'll be right back."
Mason picked his little son on his arms.
"Do not be long," he said pausing at the door. "The male half of Capwell family is bored without you."
Mary giggled and began to collect her pencils. So far she still had trouble to doing her plan. Transfer on the paper her children memories was harder than she thought. But she hoped that may be later she'll able to portray what she wants. It's vital to her to close the door in her past.
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