They left her alone, her brother and her mother. Betty didn't even come to Alice's door to call her for breakfast. When she finally descended, tentative despite last night's defiance, Betty was already in her office, working, on a Sunday no less, Evan long gone.
A quick bowl of cereal and two pieces of toast filled Alice up, chased with the tart tang of her orange juice. She scurried back up to her room when she heard her mother's voice rising in volume and just made it to the top of the landing before Betty emerged, empty coffee cup in one hand, on her way for a refill in the kitchen. Alice almost went back down. But her mother was nodding, and finally muttered something into the headset she wore.
On with a customer then. No use trying to talk to Betty now. Alice returned to her room and softly closed the door, leaning her forehead against the cool wood.
She loved her new room, but it was beginning to feel a little like a prison of her own making.
Before she could fall into feeling sorry for herself, the deep chime of the doorbell brought her head up. Couldn't be Aunt Christine or Claire. Neither of them would just ring the bell, preferring to stroll in as they had yesterday. Alice slipped into the hall and slunk down the carpet runner, peeking at the front door from the top of the stairs.
“Alice!”Betty's voice rang sharp from her open office door. “Can you get that? I'm on a call.”
The doorbell chimed again, a hollow, echoing sound in the large foyer, the deep, vibrating tone of a church bell. Nothing like Alice ever heard from an ordinary house.
But then again, there wasn't much ordinary about this place.
Alice's socks made hushed swishing noises over the bare wooden stairs before going silent on the marble tiled floor. A quick glance in her mother's office showed Betty hunched over the keyboard, glowing screen lighting her face with glaring white as she spoke, too softly to hear, into the headset.
Alice wasn't sure why she felt such trepidation approaching the door. A nervous thrill passed up her spin to shiver into the nape of her hair, giving her goose bumps. The large entry door loomed over her, the metal handle dull in the dim light of the foyer. Sweat slicked over Alice's palm as she gripped the handle and pressed down on the latch, pulling it slowly open.
Gloomy, late-morning light shone in through the opening, clouds rolling in over the homes across the street, casting everything in dim grayness. But despite the dreary sky, the woman smiling at Alice from the top step was more than colorful enough to make up for it.
“Good morning,” she said, white teeth brilliant against her glowing black skin. “I'm looking for Betty Blunt.”
Alice liked this strange woman immediately, even smiled tentatively back from where she peeked around the edge of the door. She couldn't help but stare at the woman's colorful skirt, hanging to her sandaled feet, rich reds and greens and oranges winding together across the flowing fabric.
“She's busy right now,” Alice said, almost regretting having to send the woman away.
A soft laugh and an even bigger smile set Alice even more at ease. She opened the door further, stepping into the opening to face the woman. Had to look up to meet her black eyes, shocked when the woman's hand extended toward her, fingers long and tapered, but almost as big as a man's.
“I'm Rosette LaPomeret,” she said with her lilting Louisiana accent, though she sounded cultured, less twangy than most of the people Alice met here so far. “Rose will do.”
“Alice.” She smiled shyly and shook Rose's hand, the warmth of the woman's skin heating Alice's clammy grip. “I'm Betty's daughter.” She added the afterthought before wincing to herself. Something about Rose made Alice want the woman to like her.
Rose squeezed gently before releasing Alice's hand, hers rising to pat at the bright red scarf tied around her short black hair. “Your mother, she should be expecting me, child.”
Normally, someone calling her child would have irritated Alice and made her withdraw. But Rose's beautiful face and the depth of her voice, the easy way she smiled just worked for her.
Alice stepped back without thinking more about it. “She's in her office. I'll get her.”
Rose crossed over the threshold only after a moment of hesitation. Was that a flicker of anxiety on her face? But no, her kind smile was firmly in place and though Alice wasn't the trusting sort, only a lovely feeling radiated from Rose.
Before Alice could turn to fetch her mother, to break herself from staring that dragged out to an uncomfortable few seconds, the sound of Betty calling her name spun Alice around. Betty emerged from her office, headset now around her neck, a frown creasing her forehead as she focused on their visitor.
“Can we help you?” Alice wished her mother could be a little kinder. But Rose didn't seem to take offense to Betty's tone of voice.
“Yes, Ms. Blunt,” Rose said. “I'm your new housekeeper.”
Betty's whole demeanor suddenly shifted from irritated interruption to overwhelmed thankfulness the moment Rose finished speaking.
“Oh, thank God,” Betty said, tossing her hands in the air. “We're desperate.” Betty's laugh was a little shaky as she stepped forward to shake Rose's hand. “No one else answered the ad.”
Rose nodded as though she understood completely while Alice wondered where they were getting the money for a housekeeper when she couldn't even buy new jeans.
“I can't pay much,” Betty said, hands twisting together as they usually did when she talked about money. It made Alice uncomfortable, wishing she didn't have to be there, embarrassed for her mother, for Rose, and for herself.
“Not at all,” Rose said. “It's an honor.” She looked down at Alice and winked one of her wide, dark eyes, impossibly long lashes sweeping like a black butterfly wing. “There was a time my family served your family in the past, Ms. Blunt. And I'm delighted to take my turn.”
Betty seemed to relax instantly, smile returning. “Excellent.” She stepped aside, gesturing at her office door. “Won't you come in? We can discuss the details and get you started.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Rose swept past, her fingers brushing across the back of Alice's hand, the scent of sweet roses mixed with sultry spices Alice couldn't identify wafting along with her. Alice stood there and watched Rose, her tall, lean body swaying in a natural rhythm, the flowing skirt rippling around her ankles as she walked.
Betty made a shooing gesture at Alice. “Don't just hover, honey. There's lots to do around here.” Betty didn't wait to hear if Alice chose to respond, instead following Rose into the office and firmly closing the door behind her.
Her new anger bubbled inside Alice and she welcomed it, embraced it, hugged it to her. No apology for yesterday, not from Betty. Just go find something to do, Alice. You're in the way again, Alice. Stop being creepy, Alice.
Alice stomped past her mother's office door, but, instead of heading for the upstairs and her room, she followed the hall past the stairs and to the back door. She needed outside, air, room to breathe.
The back yard seemed a good place to vent her frustration.
***