Child of Darkness (8 page)

The windows she had pointed out to me when we first drove up to the house were draped in sheer white curtains with sun-blocking shades to pull down. To the right was a beautiful antique vanity table with a gilded oval mirror, on the frame of which were also embossed angels. I saw new brushes and combs and a hair drier.
I simply stood gaping. It was as if I was afraid that stepping forward would make it all disappear.
"Well?" Ami asked.
"It's . . . beautiful, the most beautiful bedroom I've ever seen."
She laughed.
"I think I enjoy the look on your face more than anything." She ran her hand over the vanity table. "I didn't get you any makeup yet. We'll do that together, and we'll get you perfume and body talcum powders, all the things you've probably never had," Ami said.
I was speechless, caught in a storm of promises and luxuries.
"I want you to be as equipped out there as I am," she continued. "That way, we will be more like sisters."
Sisters? She had said that in Mother Higgins's office, too, but something about the way she said it this time caught my attention. I looked at her, at the way she was smiling at me. Was that what she really wanted? I wondered. Was that why she was doing all this? Where were her close friends, her own surrogate sisters? She hadn't mentioned anyone to me, or anything she did with other young women.
"Your clothes look pathetic in this walk-in closet," she said when she opened the door. They did, because there was so much empty space, so many empty hangers. "We'll correct that right away. I expect to take you to the finest restaurants, and maybe we'll attend some of these charity functions I keep getting invited to. Usually they're boring and full of phonies, but I think you and I can have fun, don't you?"
"Yes," I said, even though the way she said, "You and I can have fun," made it sound like far more than just attending a charity event. I tried to look excited and happy about anything she suggested. At this moment I wanted to please her every way I could.
"This is your private phone line," she said, lifting the pink phone receiver on the matching bedside table. "There's another phone on your vanity table," she pointed out. "I had them installed just yesterday. The unlisted number is five five five, four two four two. Be very select about whom you give the number, especially selective about the boys you meet at school. There are many vipers in the garden," she warned.
I raised my eyebrows.
"Oh, you're wondering how I went ahead and set all this up for you, how I knew you'd agree to come, or how I knew it would all work out? It didn't matter," she said, answering her own question. "I was determined, and when I'm determined, I usually get what I want. Again, Wade thinks that's because I'm spoiled, and again, he's right." She laughed and then opened a cabinet on a wall across from the bed. "Your television and sound system, Your Majesty," she said. "I just love lying in bed and watching television, don't you?"
I shrugged. I had never done it. Even the Prescotts hadn't put a television set in my room for me. What could I say?
"Oh, that's right. You probably never had a television set where you slept. Well, you're going to have a lot of things you've never had before," she said, almost like a threat.
She walked to the bathroom door and opened it, stepping back, a wide, almost clownish smile on her face. I approached slowly and looked. Beside the marble tub there was a separate, tiled shower stall, mirrors everywhere, a bidet as well as a toilet, and another vanity table. The floor was all marble tile. A terrycloth robe hung on the wall beside it, and there was another pair of slippers under it.
"I had this bathroom redone just a month ago," she said. "Well? Do you like it?"
Did I like it? What could I say? For years I had been sharing a bathroom with a half dozen other girls. We actually had to schedule our showers and baths.
"Fantastic?"
"Yes."
"Good. Make a big deal of it at dinner. Wade's such a tightwad. I call him a Tight Wade for fun. Nothing is ever necessary, according to him. He'll argue with someone over a dollar and tells me constantly that just because we're wealthy doesn't mean we have to be stupid about spending money. Well, I like being stupid when it comes to spending money. I dream sometimes of casting it about like chicken feed in malls. It was never important to me, and I've never lived on a budget. You should see the way Wade keeps our books. I think he knows exactly how much each fixture costs to run, each light. He's always going around the house turning off lights, but he better not think he can come in here and invade your privacy," she warned.
"And don't think you have to eat every morsel on your plate tonight, or any time. I know how they made a big deal of waste at your orphanage, but this isn't an orphanage. Those days are gone for good for you. Wade will come up with silly old expressions like Waste not, want not. And don't let Mrs. McAlister intimidate you with her glaring looks, either. If something doesn't taste right, spit it out on the plate. I do. Sometimes," she confessed, "I do it even if it does taste good, just to keep her in her place or to annoy Wade.
"Don't misunderstand me. I love him, but I also love teasing him. He's so . . . teasable. Is there a word like that?"
"I don't think so," I said.
"I don't care. We can make up our own words here if we like. In fact, there is nothing we can't do if we feel like doing it. Don't be shy. Ask for anything you want or need. I do, and as I promised, we're going to be like sisters," she emphasized. "Do you have to go to the bathroom or anything?"
"I suppose," I said. "Yes."
"Well, go do your business and then come to my bedroom immediately. We don't have time to go shop-ping before tonight's special dinner, but I have some things that will most definitely fit you. I'll start sorting them out and pick out a couple I think would work," she said. "Welcome to your new home," she added, and hugged me quickly before hurrying out. I stood looking after her, gaped about at everything for a moment in disbelief, and then went to the bathroom.
Afterward I followed her to the master bedroom. It was twice as large as mine, with a separate sitting area and another large-screen television set. The bed looked even bigger than kingsize. It was draped in a gold canopy with red silk bedding. There was a large, more decorative chandelier hanging in front of it. The walls were done in a technique she called faux paint. It made them looked like pink-colored leather.
Her vanity table extended almost the length of the wall on the right, with mirrors all the way. There were two master bathrooms, a his and a hers. She laughed and told me Wade kept his much neater and cleaner than she kept hers.
"He's very prissy about his things," she explained, and opened his walk-in closet to show me how he had all his clothes arranged by colors and styles. "You see how all of his shoes have a perfect shine as well," she pointed out. "He'd rather have heels and soles redone than buy new ones. I have to shame him into going shopping for himself. I ridicule his styles and tell him he's so out of date he'll make a bad impression on business associates. That works most of the time. You'll hear him complain about me and tell you he has to be thrifty about his own things because I'm not about mine. Don't believe a word of it. We're very, very rich," she declared, making it sound more like a condition than an achievement.
"You see our bed," she continued. "I had it made special. There isn't another like it anywhere, and it cost five times what something close to it would cost in a store. Wade has actually figured out how much it costs us per sleep. I think it's something like five dollars a night for fifty years. He can be so ridiculous when it comes to money, but I love him," she added, almost as though she had promised never to say anything negative about him without adding that at the end.
"I have everything sorted out," she said, taking me to her walk-in closet. It was larger and longer than Wade's, but it looked like one more dress or even a skirt would cause it to explode.
She held out two dresses, one black and one a kelly green.
"Try them on," she instructed, and stepped back. "You're not shy, are you? step out if you are."
"No," I said. "Where I've been, you lose that pretty quickly if you've ever had it."
"Oh, of course. You poor, poor dear. I'm so happy we can do this for you. No one should have to go through what you've been through," she said.
She stepped forward and toyed with my hair for a moment.
"We're going to my beauty parlor immediately tomorrow. You need conditioning and then some styling. Your forehead is a little low and narrow, and your face broadens at the jaw just like mine. You need to give the impression of a wider forehead and eye area. More bounce in your bangs, or maybe a longer, collar-length bob would do it. What do you think of my hair-style?" she asked, turning to show me the rear and sides.
"It's nice."
"Yes, it is. It works. We'll have my personal stylist, Dawn, do yours. I get the best people to work on me, and so will you. Well, go on, silly. Try the dresses."
She stepped back again. I began to undress. I wasn't lying about not having the luxury of modesty while living most of my life in orphanages. Privacy was rare. As soon as a girl got her first period, the whole population who could understand what it meant knew. We showered and even went to the bathroom in front of each other.
And yet there was something about the way Ami was looking at me as I took off my clothing that made me a little nervous. I could feel her eyes examining my body.
"Oh, you don't wear a bra with these dresses," she told me. "It's all right," she added when I hesitated. "I haven't worn a bra with any dress for years."
I reached back to undo my bra, and she immediately moved forward to help. Still a little hesitant, I slipped my bra off slowly.
"You have wonderful, perky breasts," she said. "Just like me. That black dress is going to look very sexy on you. Any man who looks at you will feel his eyes popping. I love that feeling, that power over the so-called stronger sex. The truth is, we can lead them along like puppies on a leash."
I held the dress up before me. The slinky halter gown had a laced-up front and double-sided anklelength slit skirt. I had never worn anything remotely like it.
"Go on, try it," she said. "I have matching thongs for it, too."
It fit me snugly, but it seemed to me that half my bosom was revealed. Was that proper, what she wanted me to look like for my first dinner here with her husband and father-in-law?
"Oh, you look great in it."
"But is this okay for a family dinner?" I asked.
"Of course it is." She smiled. "Wade's father, Basil, loves to see women in sexy clothing. But if you're uncomfortable, try on this one," she said, holding up the slinky green tube dress with rhinestone detailing.
It looked like almost nothing to me. How could it be any different?
"I have thongs to match this one, too. Go on, try it on," she urged.
I slipped out of the black dress and then put on the tube. It was even tighter. Without a bra covering them, my nipples were practically popping through the material. It made me very self-conscious. She sensed it immediately.
"You have a beautiful figure, Celeste. Don't be afraid to show it. As they say, if you have it, flaunt it. I do.
"So, which one do you want to wear tonight?" she asked, stepping back and waiting as though my answer would determine the direction the rest of my life would take.
I looked at the first dress and then looked up at the clothes on the racks. Wasn't there anything else, anything less revealing?
"Those are my two favorite," she said, seeing where my gaze had gone.
Not wanting to hurt or disappoint her, I decided on the first.
"Good. I would have made the same choice," she told me. "Now you can go and rest up, shower, and fix your hair the best you can. We'll have dinner at seven tonight. I like to rest up, too, and then give myself a facial. I'll show you all that later, but you've got to walk before you run," she said, walking me to her bedroom door. "Just call down if you need anything. You dial ten, and Mrs. Cukor's phone rings."
Call for what I need? Have servants cater to me? This was more like a grand hotel than a home, and considering where I had just come from, it was all still more like a dream.
"Thank you," I said.
She smiled, hugged me, and then stepped back into her room and closed the door.
For a long moment I just stood there in the hallway, gazing at the chandeliers, the paintings on the walls, the glimmering wood floors. It was impossible not to be dazed by all the opulence rained upon me so quickly. I was thrilled, excited, and happy, but memories of my first foster home returned. I had such fears then, fears that I would lose myself, my identity, my family. I had such guilt over every little luxury I enjoyed. Every pleasure was a small betrayal in my child's mind. And the Prescotts were paupers com-pared to the Emersons.
I knew what Noble would say. He would say, "Celeste, the devil has decided to raise the level of temptation until he has you where he wants you."
I could feel that same guilt raining itself down upon me, each drop another tiny sting of conscience, trying to get me to turn away from all this, to reject it.
I don't care, I thought defiantly. I deserve this. I've suffered enough, and I want it all. Why shouldn't I? Besides, it has to be my destiny. It has to be something meant to happen.
I knew no matter what I said or believed, if Noble were here, he would not approve. He was afraid of anything that could make me forget my past, forget the farm and what waited for me back there. However, I was sure that if he was trying to come chastise me, he was finding it more impossible than ever. The lights were too bright in this house. Shadows could hide nothing.
At least, that was what I hoped.

Next to the television set was a cabinet in which had been placed a number of music CDs. Another drawer had a video collection as well. There wasn't one I had seen, even on television. From the titles and the pictures on the covers as well as the blurbs about each, it was easy to see every one of them was about romance.

I chose a CD and played it while I continued to explore the room and the view from my windows. Having so much private space was as luxurious to me as soaking in a warm bubble bath. I couldn't stop walking around and around, into the bathroom and out, back to the closet to admire the size of it, and then to bounce on my bed and let myself fall back on the fluffy pillows as if I was falling from an airplane and floating.