Hart & Soul

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=80 BGCOLOR="#CC9900" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="15900500dwnjzk.gif"> <div> <B>     |     </B><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE=" "><U><B>home</B></U></A></div> <div> back to  <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Books"><U><B>Books</B></U></A></div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=25% BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>Hart & Soul</B></div> <div> <IMG SRC="182b0160.jpg" border=0 width="176" height="278" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"><B> </B></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=400 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>Hart & Soul</B></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>Prologue</B></I></div> <bR> <div> <I>“Find your real mother…”</I></div> <div>      Calaine Hart bolted upright in bed with a palm pressed firmly against her racing heart.  Her lips quivered for several seconds before she found the strength to suck air into her lungs and remind herself it was only a dream, even though it was the same dream she'd been having since her parents had been killed in a hit-and-run accident three months ago.  She raised a hand to her damp forehead as tears of frustration flooded her eyes.  <I>When will it end?</I>  She couldn't keep battling the nightmares.  Time would heal her wounds, but only one thing would erase the anger and resentment-answers to the questions that haunted her.</div> <div>      Throwing back the covers, she lowered her feet to the floor and slid them into a pair of pink terry cloth slippers.  After taking another stabilizing breath, she rose and padded into the adjoining bathroom, where she splashed cold water onto her face.  <I>You've got to pull yourself together.</I></div> <div> Staring at her disheveled image in the mirror, she took in the dark circles that had settled beneath her nutmeg colored eyes, the result of too many sleepless nights.  She shook her head in dismay.  With a full day ahead of her, a good night's sleep was essential.  </div> <div>      Calaine opened the medicine cabinet, reached for a bottle of sleep aid on the top shelf, unscrewed the cap and popped two tablets into her mouth.  Before swallowing, she paused a moment to reflect on the number of nights that had required help to fall asleep.  She shuddered inwardly at the thought, because along the way she had lost count.  Cupping a hand under the faucet, she brought cool running water to her lips.  As the pills slid down her throat despair assailed her.</div> <div>      Returning the half empty bottle to the shelf, Calaine caught her reflection again.  <I>You look like crap.</I>  Her face had grown thinner and appeared tired and haggard.  She couldn't remember the last time she'd used makeup to enhance her cinnamon complexion.  Her chestnut curls were an unruly mess and long overdue for a trim.  </div> <div>      Calaine shut her eyes briefly as grief tore at her heart.  She hoped the drug would kick in soon.  </div> <div> As the owner of her own employment agency, Calaine was planning to participate in a job fair in the morning.  Her business was the only thing holding her together these days.  There she found mindless solidity that helped camouflage the despair in her life.  The fast-paced environment left very little time to think or to remember.  However, at five o'clock, after the telephones had been forwarded and the front door locked, she had no other choice but to return home, where she found herself alone again and facing the agony of her loss.  </div> <div> <I>Find your real mother.</I></div> <div> Only seconds before Delores Hart had closed her eyes for the last time, she'd breathed those four words that had changed her daughter's life forever.</div> <div> <I>“C-Calaine, I'm so sorry.”</I></div> <div> <I>Stroking her mother's hand, Calaine tried to comfort her the best way she knew how.  “Mommy, there's no reason to apologize.  The accident was not your fault.”</I></div> <div> <I>     “No…please listen,” Delores struggled to be heard, knowing the end drew near.  She signaled for her daughter to come closer.  Calaine bent down as her mother took another deep, shaky breath. “Promise me you'll find your real mother.”</I></div> <div> <I>Confusion swirled in Calaine's head before she finally managed to ask, “W-what do you mean, find my real mother?  I-I thought </I><I><B>you</B></I><I> were my real mother.”</I></div> <div> <I>“I'm sorry…,” Delores gasped, struggling to catch her last breath.  “I couldn't go without…without your knowing the truth.”  With that her fingers loosened their hold and she was gone.</I></div> <div>      Calaine swallowed hard, wiping away the hot tears trickling down her cheeks.  She'd relived the scenario over and over in her head.  Her thoughts were consumed by too many unanswered questions regarding the two people she had known all her life as her parents. If Geoffrey Hart was her father, then who was her mother? </div> <div>      She rubbed her forehead.  Thinking about it made her head hurt.  She splashed cold water on her face again and reached for a towel.</div> <div>      Returning to her room, Calaine collapsed onto a mauve chaise in the corner and leaned her head against the cushion. She lowered her thick, black lashes.</div> <div>      In search of a plausible explanation, she had broached the subject with both her maternal aunt and godfather THADDEUS SIMON on two separate occasions.  Not only had they both told her she'd misunderstood her mother's last words, but they each had confirmed she was the Harts' biological child.  A nagging voice whispered in her head.  <I>Why would Delores have told you to find your real mother if it wasn't true? </I> The uncertainty made it impossible to simply let it go.  </div> <div> Calaine hugged her knees to her chest as her misgivings increased by the minute.  She hated to admit it, but a part of her had always known something was wrong.  </div> <div> The Harts had been tough, no-nonsense parents who had believed in preparing their child for the ugly world into which she had been born.  </div> <div>      Her mother had disdained emotional warmth.  Consumed by her husband's political career, the couple had had little time for their daughter.  When they did turn their attention to Calaine, they'd expected nothing less than perfection from her.  </div> <div>      <I>Find your mother.</I>  The echo of Delores Hart's words slid around the edge of her mind.  </div> <div> As Calaine relished the possibility of finding her real parent, she also found it painfully true that she'd never felt anything she ever did was good enough for Delores and Geoffrey.  Her relationship with her mother had been a tough one.  She'd tried to do all the right things, such as staying out of trouble, getting good grades and graduating at the top of her class.  She'd even waited until she was in college to date.  But it had never been enough.  Her mother had been quick to judge and had rarely given praise.  She had never been affectionate, had never bestowed a kiss or a loving word of encouragement.  </div> <div> Her father hadn't been much better. Geoffrey was a kind man, but he seemed to have left the childrearing to his wife.  </div> <div> It wasn't until she had opened her agency three ago that her mother had finally told Calaine she was proud to have her as a daughter.  For the first time she'd felt loved.  Now she was alone.</div> <div> <I>Or was she?</I></div> <div>      If her mother had been telling the truth, there was another woman out there who might be looking for her.  Maybe she could finally discover what she felt she'd been missing all her life.  Maybe she would finally feel like she belonged somewhere.</div> <div>      A gush of spring air rushed through the half-opened window beside her bed.  Feeling a slight chill, she reached for a small flannel blanket at the foot of the chair and draped it over her shoulders.  She'd spent so many nights here crying, shaking with resentment at her parents for not telling her before…before it was too late to ask questions.</div> <div>      Delores had been a lot of things, dominate, outspoken, and strict, but she had never been a liar.  If she'd told Calaine that she wasn't her biological mother, then Calaine believed her.</div> <div> A question stabbed at her heart. <I>Then why was everyone else lying?  </I></div> <div> Deep down she believed there had to be something no one wanted her to know, something they preferred to keep a secret.</div> <div>      By the time she'd finally drifted off to sleep, Calaine had made the decision to find out the truth.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Books"><U><B>return to previous page</B></U></A></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>