Danielle Steel - Full circle

“I do. Very much. The professors are pretty interesting.” But there was a lack of enthusiasm in her voice which Miriam picked up at once.

“But?”

Tana smiled. She was sharp. Very sharp. “The atmosphere isn't as warm as I thought it would be.”

“Why is that?”

“I don't know. The girls seem to stay in cliques.”

“And the two of you?”

“We're together most of the time.” Sharon looked at Tana and smiled, and Miriam didn't seem displeased. She thought that Tana was a bright girl, and there was a lot of potential there. Far more than Tana herself knew. She was quick, she was bright, she was funny at times, but cautious, laced up. She would have to open up one day, and when she did, God only knew what would be there.

“Maybe that's your problem then, girls. Tana, how many other friends do you have at Green Hill?”

“Just Shar. We're in class together most of the time. We share the same room.”

“And you're probably being punished for that. I'm sure you realize that. If your closest friend is the only Negro girl there they're going to penalize you, you know.”

“What for?”

“Don't be naive.”

“Don't be so cynical, Mom.” Sharon sounded suddenly annoyed.

“Maybe it's time you both grew up.”

“What the hell's that supposed to mean?” Sharon lashed out at her. “Hell, I've been home for nine hours and you're already on my back with your speeches and your crusades.”

“I'm not making any speeches. I'm just telling you to face facts.” She looked at them both then. “You can't hide from the truth, girls. It isn't easy being black today … or a black girl's friend … you're both going to have to realize that and be willing to pay the price if you expect the friendship to last.”

“Can't you do anything without turning it into a political crusade, Mom?”

Miriam looked at her and then at her friend. “I want you to do something for me, both of you, before you go back to school on Sunday night. There's a man I know speaking this Sunday in Washington. He's one of the most extraordinary men I've ever known, Martin Luther King, and I want you to come listen to him with me.”

“Why?” Sharon was still glaring at her.

“Because it's something neither of you will ever forget.”

And as they rode back toward South Carolina late that night, Tana was still thinking of it. Miriam Blake had been right. He was the most visionary man Tana had ever listened to. He made everyone else seem stupid and blind, and it was hours before she could even talk about what she had heard. Simple words about being black and being a black man's friend, about civil rights and the equality of everyone, and afterwards they had sung a song, swaying together, arms crossed, holding hands. She looked at Sharon an hour after they left Washington.

“He was amazing, wasn't he?”

Sharon nodded, thinking of his words again. “You know, it feels dumb just going back to school. I feel as though I should be doing something.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, and Tana stared out into the dark night as they rode into the South. It seemed to make his words even more important than they had been. This was where it was happening, where people were being hurt, and ignored, and abused. And as the thoughts wandered through her head, she thought of the debutante party her mother had set up, and it was as though the two thoughts were so diametrically opposed that they just wouldn't fit into her head at the same time. When Sharon opened her eyes again, Tana was looking at her.

“What are you going to do?” One had to do something after hearing him. There was no choice at all. Even Freeman Blake had agreed.

“I don't know yet.” Sharon looked tired, but she had been thinking of it since they'd left Washington, of what she could do to help … in Yolan … in Green Hill … “What about you?”

“I don't know.” Tana sighed. “Anything I can, I guess. But I'll tell you, after hearing Dr. King speak, I know one thing … that party my mother is forcing me into in New York is the dumbest thing I've ever done.”

Sharon smiled. She couldn't really disagree now, but there was another side to it as well. A more small-scale, human one. “It'll do you good.”

“I doubt that.” The two girls exchanged a smile, and rode on into the South until they reached Yolan, and took one of the town's two cabs to Green Hill.

The train roared into Pennsylvania Station on December twenty-first just after two o'clock in the afternoon and there was a light snow falling as Tana watched. It made everything look Christmasy and almost like a fairy tale, and yet as she gathered her things, fought her way through the station, and went outside to hail a cab, she realized again how depressed she was about coming home. It made her feel instantly guilty toward Jean, and she knew that she wasn't being fair, but she would rather have been anywhere than on her way home to her own coming out dance. And she knew how excited her mother was. For the past two weeks, she had called Tana almost every night, about the guests, the flowers, the table decor, her date, her dress. She had picked the dress out for Tana herself, an exquisite white silk with white satin trim and tiny little white beads embroidered in floral patterns around the hem. It had cost a fortune, and Arthur had told her to charge it to his account at Saks.

“He's so good to us, sweetheart.…” As she rode home to the apartment in the cab, Tana could close her eyes and imagine her mother's face as she said the words … why, why was she so everlastingly grateful to him? What on earth did he do for her, except let her work her fingers to the bone, and wait for him all those times he never came when Marie was still alive … and even now, everything else always seemed to come first with him. And if he loved Jean so much, why the hell didn't he marry her? It depressed Tana to think about that too. Everything was such a goddamn farce … her mother and Arthur, how “good” the Durnings were to them, yeah, like the way Billy had been good to her … and the party she would have to go to the following night. She had invited a boy she had known for years and never liked, but he was the right type for an event like that, Chandler George III. She had gone to a couple of dances with him before, and he bored her to tears, but she knew her mother would be pleased. And she also knew that she'd have a miserable time but that couldn't be helped. Most important of all, he was harmless and polite and wouldn't do anything inappropriate.

The apartment was dark when she got in, Jean was still at work as Tana looked around. Everything looked the same except smaller somehow, and drearier than she had remembered it. And as she had the thought, it seemed somehow unfair. She knew how hard her mother tried to keep a nice home for them both, and she always had. But Tana felt as though things were different now, as though imperceptibly she had changed and no longer fit in this scene. She found herself thinking of the comfortable Blake house in Washington, and how much she had enjoyed being there. It wasn't pretentious, like the Durning' house, but it was warm, and beautiful, and real. And she missed the Blakes as well, especially Sharon. Tana had watched her get off the train, feeling as though she were losing her best friend, and Sharon had turned back once to give her a big smile and a wave, and then she was gone and the train moved north, and now she was here, feeling as though she wanted to cry as she set her bags down in her room.

“Is that my little girl?” The front door slammed and Jean's voice rang out as Tana turned with a frightened look. What if her mother could read her thoughts, could see how uncomfortable she was just being there? But Jean saw nothing of the sort, all she saw was the daughter she loved, and she held her tight for an instant before stepping back again. “Boy, you look good!” And so did Jean. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, there were kisses of frost on the tips of her hair, and her eyes looked big and dark. She was so excited that she didn't even wait to take off her coat before running into her own room and emerging again with Tana's dress. It was exquisite as it hung from the padded satin hanger they had delivered it with. It looked almost like a wedding dress, and Tana smiled.