CHAPTER FOUR

Daddy was right about the bathroom I would use. Ava had stocked it with everything and anything I would need, even things I would never have thought about buying.

I welcomed the new hairbrush, ties, and comb and then studied some of the jars of skin cream in the cabinet. Two had French names, each claiming to prevent skin damage and cure dry, flaky skin. There was even something I had never seen, a facial toner. There were bars of soap and bottles of shampoos I also had never seen or heard of neatly displayed on the shelf in the shower. The pink towels and washcloths were super-plush and smelled flowery-fresh. What looked like a new bath rug, white with a pinkish tint, was placed beside the tub and shower.

I had no idea what Daddy had told her about me, but neatly placed in a drawer in the sink cabinet were sanitary pads. On a shelf to the right of the sink were deodorant sticks with three different scents and a square bottle of cologne also with a French name. I held it up, vividly recalling something my mother would do with her colognes and perfumes. She would never spray them directly on herself. She would spray a cloud of whatever she had chosen in front of her and then walk through it. I used to laugh and follow her. That was when she and my father were having happier days, days that seemed to rain smiles and laughter everywhere in our home.

I sprayed the cologne in the air. The scent was unusual but not unpleasant. It just wasn’t something I would have chosen for myself. It seemed more for an older woman. Was it something Ava used? My stepmother/aunt was clearly deciding how to address the most intimate details about me, including how I would smell. I really was beginning to feel like that piece reshaped to fit into a prearranged puzzle.

I put the cologne back, closed the cabinets and drawers, and glanced at myself once more to check my hair before I headed out and down the stairs to join my new family for dinner. I was trembling a little and truly feeling like an amateur actress about to step onto a stage. There would be only two in the audience for me to convince, but it might as well have been a packed auditorium of theater critics with their hands clutching knives to stab and cut up my performance.

Ava, Karen, and Daddy were already seated in the dining room. Three pairs of eyes felt like six spotlights. Even Daddy was looking at me with what seemed to be fresh curiosity. How would I behave? From where the place settings had been placed, I saw that I was being sat across from Karen and next to Ava, with Daddy at the other end of the table, a chair between him and me and a chair between Karen and him.

Why didn’t Daddy feel outside of the circle to me? He did look like a man comfortably settled in his first marriage and fatherhood. I should have expected that, but it still rumbled in my heart and caused me to feel even more alienated from him. I wondered who had decided where I should sit. Was it his doing? Would it have looked too obvious if he and I were sitting closer? Would there always be a question attached even to the smallest things in this house? It was easy to fall into the dark pool of paranoia, seeing hidden motives in everything and anything.

Karen gazed at me big-eyed, Daddy smiled the way anyone would smile trying to make someone new feel comfortable, but Ava looked like she was suspiciously scrutinizing my every cell as soon as I had stepped into the dining room.

“We’ll have to do something about your hair,” she said. “Immediately.”

“Give her a braided ponytail,” Karen said. “Her hair’s long enough. That’s how Adele wears hers, and everyone thinks she looks great,” she told me, as if I should already know who Adele was. “Adele is one of my best friends and has hair as long as yours.”

One of? How can you have more than one “best” friend? I thought, but dared not ask it and immediately make her feel stupid.

“We’ll see to it tomorrow,” Ava said, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips, rendering her decision like someone who could decide every breath I took. She nodded at my chair. “Sit.”

It sounded like she was ordering a dog.

I glanced at Daddy, who held his smile and nodded ever so gently.

I sat quickly, trying not to appear awkward as I pulled my chair closer to the table. I could feel both Ava and Karen watching my every move. I quickly straightened up. Mazy had taught me how to sit at a formal table. She told me that someday I’d be invited to the queen of England’s dinner table. Sometimes we loved to pretend. She would bring out her best china and silverware, napkins and tablecloth. Either I’d be a princess, or she’d be the queen. I often thought that pretending was easily seventy-five percent of life. It was as if people thought that if others saw you honestly for who you were, they would never like you, maybe even be afraid of you. I shouldn’t really be shocked at having to be someone else here. Everyone had to be someone other than themselves more than half the time. It was as if honesty was self-destructive.

I gazed at the almost geometrically set table. The white napkins with gold trim were folded into perfect pie slices, and all the silverware was carefully lined up at each plate. I unfolded my napkin and placed it neatly on my lap. Karen, who hadn’t done that yet, quickly did the same, glancing at her mother, maybe to see if my doing it first was going to bring her a reprimand. But Ava hadn’t taken her eyes off me.

“You’ll need a manicure if you’re going to sit at my table from now on,” she said, nodding at my fingers.

Instinctively, I brought them down to my lap and out of sight.

“Are you going to bring her to Renae tomorrow, Mother?”

“First thing in the morning,” Ava said. “Then I’ll bring her to school. We’ll decide what we should do with your hair then. Derick, you make all those arrangements at school so I don’t have to spend an inordinate amount of time there. I have things to do.”

“Sure. First thing,” my father said. I half expected him to salute when he responded to her order. Even in my thoughts, I had to keep correcting myself, or I was sure to make a mistake and call him Daddy.

“How is your room?” Ava asked.

“It’s very nice,” I said without much enthusiasm. I was still thinking about my room at Mazy’s.

“There’ll be more done with it. We never expected it would become another family bedroom. It was expected to become Garson’s room eventually. Just last week, I was looking at furniture for a little boy.”

“Oh,” I said. I looked at Daddy, who just stared at her with a half smile on his face. “I’m sorry. I mean, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s of no concern. What has to be has to be. Anyway, your uncle and I will now be adding a bedroom at the rear of the house, off the living room. I always wanted more personal space. We have enough property for that sort of expansion. We’ll use the same contractor who built on our garage,” she said.

It seemed like she was telling Daddy these plans for the first time. He nodded.

“I contacted him this afternoon just after we planned it all last night,” he said. “He’ll be around to give us an estimate.”

“Our bedroom will eventually become Garson’s, then,” Ava said as if she was anticipating my question.

Karen bounced in her seat.

“Why can’t he have mine, Mother? Yours and Daddy’s is too big for a boy. Girls need more room,” Karen declared. “You just said you wanted more for yourself.”

Ava looked at her almost as if she hadn’t realized she was there.

“Your room is fine for you, Karen. We just bought you a new vanity table and mirror. You have a walk-in closet and enough dresser drawers for a dozen girls. Besides, you have a nice view.”

“Yours is nicer,” Karen insisted. “But”—she paused, thinking—“we’ll be living in Saddlebrook one day anyway, I guess.”

“Your grandfather will live to be a hundred,” Ava said. She thought a moment. “It’s not very nice to say that anyway, Karen.” Ava glared at her and then turned to me.

“Just as I expect of Karen, you are to keep your bathroom and your bedroom as immaculate as possible, Saffron. Our maid, Celisse, comes only twice a week unless we need her to care for Garson. She does the whole house both times, so I don’t want her to have to spend an inordinate amount of time on your bedroom or, as she knows, on Karen’s.”

Ava looked sharply at Karen, who frowned.

I looked at Daddy, but he didn’t come to my defense and get her to soften her tone. Supposedly, I had just lost my mother. He didn’t even smile reassurance at me.

I’m on my own, I thought. Why doesn’t it surprise me?

“I cleaned our house every day,” I said. “We couldn’t afford maids. Just let me know where all the cleaning materials are kept, and I’ll look after my own bathroom, too.”

Ava nodded, this time coming close to smiling.

“Having to do things for yourself is not something to be ashamed of. Karen will show you where we keep all that. She vaguely knows where they are.”

“Ha, ha,” Karen said. “I keep my room clean.”

“That’ll be news to Celisse. Okay. Let’s start eating,” Ava announced as if she was launching a ship. Salad was already on everyone’s salad plate. There was a glass of water beside Karen’s and mine. Daddy and Ava were drinking red wine. Ava’s eyes followed my hand to the correct fork, the salad fork. She looked a little surprised.

“I don’t imagine your mother set a table like this every night,” she said.

“No, but we ate in a nice restaurant once in a while, and I was often with her when she worked as a waitress. Before she became a store manager at the Southcoast Plaza,” I quickly added.

I hoped she didn’t notice that I was glancing at Daddy practically after every word I uttered to be sure he approved.

“Did you work as a waitress, too?” Karen asked. “It’s so disgusting picking up people’s leftovers and having to smile even at creepy boys.”

“No. I wasn’t old enough yet. Also, you have to be twenty-one to serve alcohol.”

“You do?”

Who had been locked away more? I wondered.

“You obviously picked up some good habits,” Ava said. “That’s very good. We’ve all got to make the most of any good opportunity in life, especially if you have so few. It’s a lesson I hope my daughter learns.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Karen said.

Daddy smiled. I was getting compliments directly and indirectly, and it was obvious that Ava was quite thrifty when it came to that. I had yet to hear her say anything nice to her own daughter, despite how Daddy had built up their good relationship. Still, this compliment made it sound like I had come from some sort of slum life. Mazy’s world was quite the opposite, but I couldn’t defend it. However, it made me feel very defensive. Although Ava would never know why, perhaps, I was frustrated at not being able to defend my grandmother.

“It’s not brain surgery for any young girl,” I muttered instead.

“Excuse me?” Ava said.

Now Daddy was actually holding his breath.

I said nothing, but when I lifted my eyes, I saw Karen’s wide smile. It was as if I had just confirmed that she would have a coconspirator.

Suddenly, we heard Garson’s cry. I had almost forgotten about him. He was on Ava’s left side below the table.

“He’s finally teething,” she explained as she reached down for him.

“I’ll get his pacifier,” Daddy said, jumping to his feet. I watched with surprise as he hurried out to the kitchen and quickly returned with a pacifier from the refrigerator. He handed it to Ava, who put it in Garson’s mouth. He immediately clamped down on it. Daddy stood by, proudly watching, and then looked at me.

Maybe he will be the one to make a mistake, I thought. Maybe he would suddenly blurt that I started teething late, too. Or he would mention something about me when I was a baby. That would give it all away. I wanted him to be the one to make the mistake. I practically prayed for it.

Garson immediately calmed.

“Cold works the same on his gums as it does on a sprained ankle,” Daddy explained.

“You didn’t have to do this with me. Daddy told me,” Karen informed Ava before she could respond. Sibling jealousy dripped like molasses out of her eyes and mouth. Ava bristled.

“You, on the other hand, didn’t make a sensible sound until you were nearly one. Everything was one form of ga-ga or another,” she muttered, gazing down at Garson lovingly. Karen squirmed in her seat.

“That’s not true. Is it, Daddy?”

“Ga-ga,” Daddy said, trying to joke his way out of a trap.

Karen smirked and looked at me. “What about you?” she asked. “Did you start teething late or anything?”

“I don’t remember,” I said. “I was so young.”

Ava actually laughed.

Karen looked like smoke would soon emerge from her eyes.

“Didn’t your mother tell you?” she asked sullenly.

“They weren’t happy times to remember. My father deserted us soon after I was born. She avoided talking about those days.”

Her face reluctantly softened.

Ava handed Garson to Daddy, and he gently returned him to his bassinet. He stood there looking down at him and smiling. I wondered if he had looked down at me the same proud way when I was that small. Ava returned to her salad.

“I’m sure they were hard times for your mother and you, even after you were older. You couldn’t waitress, but did you ever babysit for extra money?” she asked me.

“No,” I said, maybe with too much surprise and emphasis. She had no idea, of course, but no one back at Hurley would have trusted me with watching a dog or cat, much less a child.

Ava stiffened as if I had made her sound stupid.

“Considering what you just told us and what Derick’s told me about your situation, that wouldn’t have been so unexpected.”

For a moment, I was lost for words. How could I explain why I was never asked to babysit?

“We moved around too much, right up to the last year,” I said, “so we didn’t have many close friendships, especially with people who had younger children, and my mother didn’t like me walking about alone at night. We didn’t live in the best neighborhoods all the time.”

She relaxed and nodded with understanding.

“Yes. That was probably quite sensible of your mother. Karen has been helping with Garson.”

She glared at her daughter, making it clear that contrary to what Daddy had suggested, Karen wasn’t eager to volunteer.

“Oh. I’ll gladly do whatever I can,” I said, wishing I could add, for my half brother.

“That’s good,” Karen said quickly. “I miss stuff because I’m stuck here. You can take over sometimes, can’t she, Mother?”

“We’ll see,” Ava said. “Problems occur when we move along too quickly in life.”

“Yes, Grandpa Amos,” Karen moaned.

Ava gave her a look that could shatter buildings. Karen looked down and kept eating. I glanced at Daddy, who ate as if he hadn’t heard a word.

“How did your mother die?” Karen suddenly demanded. It was almost an accusation. Although Daddy had made it sound otherwise, she was obviously upset about my coming to live with them.

“It was a heart attack,” I said, and continued eating, my head down. Whatever look Daddy gave her was enough. No one spoke until we had all finished our salad.

“Didn’t you get the paramedics or something?”

“When I found her, it was too late.”

Karen’s face lost color. She looked like she couldn’t swallow.

“You found her? Dead?”

Ava rose like an oil well opening. She seemed to rise to a great height. Karen bit into her lower lip and looked down.

“This isn’t the time for this discussion, Karen. We talked about that.”

Karen glanced at me with guilt and looked down again.

“I’ll put up the pasta now. Karen will clear the salad dishes,” Ava declared as if she was dictating the Ten Commandments.

“Should I help?” I asked.

Ava paused, considering.

“Tonight we’ll let you be a guest,” she said. “I’d like you to see how we do things first. If you do things that have to be corrected, it makes for double the work. Karen?”

Karen rose and picked up the salad dishes as if they were steaming hot.

As soon as she went into the kitchen, Daddy leaned toward me to whisper.

“You’re doing great,” he said. “I knew you would.”

Garson started to cry again.

“Uh-oh,” Daddy said, and hurried around to him.

“Derick?” Ava called from the kitchen.

“He’s fine. No worries.”

Daddy rocked him gently in his arms. My mind fell back through everything that had occurred these past five years as if it was all made of tissue paper. Earlier memories flashed like pictures projected on a wall. He was sitting on my bed to tell me bedtime stories. I was holding his hand as we walked through a mall. I held on to a cart as he pushed it along to choose groceries. He was lighting a birthday candle. So many small things brought so much joy back then. Now it seemed like we’d have to move mountains to have the same happiness.

And then, as if a movie had ended, I blinked away the pleasant images and instead saw him shouting at my mother, who stood looking at the floor, a soft smile on her face. His face was reddening. I thought the whole house was shaking until he stopped and walked away. She turned to me, her lips quivering, a single tear crossing over the crest of her cheek.

In my memory, I started to cry. I sounded like Garson now, only Daddy wasn’t comforting me. No one was comforting me. Mama looked frozen and then suddenly crumbled right before my eyes, folded into herself, and disappeared. I thought I might have gasped at the nightmare image, but Daddy didn’t hear or look at me.

Karen entered carrying the steaming pasta. She struggled to place it on the table. Ava entered with her meatballs.

“Go get the bread,” she told Karen.

Did she ever say “Please,” teach by example? I wondered. Was this the way she would always speak to me?

Garson was quiet again. He looked like he had fallen asleep. Daddy returned him to his bassinet.

“Smells delicious,” he said. He looked at me, his expression changing as if he could see all the images I had recalled still flashing on my eyes. The worry washed over his face.

“Something wrong?” Ava asked, looking from him to me.

“I think Saffron is tired,” Daddy told her, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “The traveling…”

She looked at me as if she had X-ray eyes. I squirmed a bit.

“You’re hungry, though, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said. I was, but Daddy wasn’t wrong. I was also exhausted, mostly from the emotional strain and tension.

“Well, you’re not on KP duty tonight, so you can go to sleep after you’re finished with dinner or just go up to your room and relax. If you look in the top drawer of your dresser, you’ll find a clean pair of Karen’s pajamas. I’m sure they’ll fit. There are slippers in the closet for you. We have most of the morning to spend together, and we can talk more then.”

“About what?” Karen asked, returning with a platter of bread.

“What she wants for Christmas. What do you think?” Ava snapped at her.

“I’m just asking,” she moaned, and put the bread on the table and sat.

“Don’t sit. You bring everyone’s dish up, and I’ll serve the pasta and meatballs, Karen, just the way we’ve done in the past.”

Karen rolled her eyes, stood, and went around the table to get my plate.

I looked at Daddy. He was staring at Ava in the strangest way. His eyes looked cold, and through the slight parting of his lips, I thought his teeth were clenched. The muscles in his jawbone were taut. Once again, my memories flipped like cards, and I saw him looking at my mother in a similar way. It frightened me then; it frightened me now.

For a while, we ate in silence once we were all served. When I looked at Daddy, he gestured with his eyes from the food and then toward Ava. Message received.

“This is very good,” I said. “Maybe the best meatballs I’ve eaten.”

“Thank you. Have you done any cooking?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, maybe too enthusiastically. Daddy’s face was filling quickly with warnings. Slow down. Review everything you’re going to say, and then say it. “With my mother working so much, I had to help, and I enjoyed cooking.”

“Really? Karen’s not so much as broken an egg,” Ava said. “On purpose, that is.”

Karen glared at me.

Uh-oh, I thought. In five more minutes, she’s going to hate me.

“I’d be glad to share anything I’ve learned with her.”

“Really?” Ava smiled. “Maybe we’ll have the girls make us dinner one night, Derick. What do you think?”

“Sounds great.”

Karen’s face folded into an indecisive smile. Then something widened her eyes.

“I hope not this Saturday night,” she said. “It’s Margaret Toby’s birthday party.”

“Thanks for reminding us, Karen,” Ava said. “That would be a wonderful way to introduce your cousin to everyone.”

“But she’s not invited.”

“She wasn’t here when the invitations were sent, was she? You make it your business to get her invited. How do you think she’ll feel when you go off to a party and she’s left in her room Saturday night?”

Karen looked at me, annoyed.

“She’s in the tenth grade, isn’t she? Most everyone there will be from the ninth grade.”

“Boys, too?” Ava asked, smiling.

“No, but…”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’ve been left alone many, many times.”

“Well, that’s coming to an end,” Ava insisted.

I looked at Daddy. He was nodding.

“Yes, it is,” he said.

“What if Margaret doesn’t want to invite her?” Karen asked petulantly.

“Well then, she’s an idiot, isn’t she? You don’t want to hang around with idiots, do you, Karen?”

Daddy rose to pour more wine into Ava’s glass. For the first time, I saw her smile at him lovingly. Even after all these years and all that had happened, it stung to see him return that look.

I continued to eat. Karen started to sulk again, eating mechanically as she glared at her food. Daddy returned to his seat.

“This is the one thing that makes your father jealous of me,” he said, eating a meatball.

Ava smiled.

“He has his own chef,” Karen said petulantly.

“Not the same thing,” Daddy said. He sipped his wine. Ava and he were looking at each other like they were alone at the table. Karen sighed and stabbed her fork into her food.

This is like being in a movie, I thought, and watching it at the same time.

Afterward, I did feel bad about leaving Karen to clear the table and help Ava take care of the dishes. It wasn’t in my DNA to be lazy. Mazy had seen to that. But working beside her these last two years had drawn us closer together. For some reason, it helped resurrect stories from her own childhood. Some were funny, but most were sad.

However, Daddy looked anxious and grateful that we could retreat to the living room and be alone for a little while before dessert was served. Garson was still asleep, so he thought it best to leave him.

“Sometimes moving him is like stirring up a hornet’s nest,” he joked, loud enough for Ava and Karen to hear.

We went to the living room.

“I have nothing to do with any of the furniture in this house,” Daddy said, almost proudly, when we entered. “Ava insists I have no taste and no sense of color coordination. Some of what she chose, she chose to be sure it was quite different from her father’s home. She said her father had to approve everything her mother bought for them, down to towels for the bathrooms.

“It’s a comfortable-looking room, though, isn’t it?” he asked.

I thought it looked unused, a room on display and far from comfortable. It was a room you’d want to tiptoe through and be sure you had clean, washed clothes before sitting on anything. Nothing was out of place. The two overstuffed white couches were juxtaposed with the marble mantel of the fireplace. Hardwood floors gleamed. The brown and white pillows on the sofas were placed identically at right angles on both. At the center was a glass table in a wood frame that matched the floor. The only thing on the table was a bowl of imitation fruit. The fireplace looked like it had never been used, even though there was real wood neatly placed within. On the top of the mantel was a single lamp that looked like an antique gas lamp. There wasn’t a magazine, a book, or a piece of paper anywhere in sight. Everything appeared like it had just arrived from the showroom. Even the one painting on the far wall, with its thick frame, a mixture of lines and shapes, had no emotion. It was framed wallpaper to me. There were two miniature versions of it, one on each side. Other than that, the walls were bare.

“Does anyone ever come in here?” I asked.

He laughed. “We do spend most of the time in the den, which is off the front door, except when we’re entertaining special dinner guests. The den is where we have the television set. Karen has one in her bedroom. Ava didn’t want one in ours. If you want one in yours…”

“I never had one,” I said. “Mazy would have gotten me one if I had asked for it.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Try never to use that name. We’ll talk about it later.” He looked back toward the kitchen. “Let’s go to the den,” he said, clearly thinking we might be overheard.

Try never to use that name? The very idea made me cold, but it was true. All my memories of Mazy had to be forgotten or at least never mentioned. I followed him through the hall.

Although the den was as immaculate as the living room, it did look used and more comfortable, with its soft brown leather couch and a wall of bookcases interrupted by a large painting of Sandburg Creek from what looked to be the point of view of a hawk. There were two reclining easy chairs and a large center table with magazines and real flowers, or great imitation ones, in vases on the side tables. The large-screen television set was on the wall on the right.

“We modernized the sound system in here, too,” Daddy said. “Subtly. Keeping the house in character is almost a religious thing for Ava to maintain its authenticity.”

Just as we sat on the sofa, Karen appeared in the doorway.

“Vanilla or chocolate ice cream?” she asked me.

“Vanilla.”

“I like chocolate. So does Daddy, right, Daddy?”

“Sure, but I could eat both.”

I smiled, recalling how Mazy had used the prospect of pizza and ice cream to help tempt me to go home with her the night she appeared at the train station. She had asked the same question—vanilla or chocolate? Those choices seemed to separate people before anything else would.

Karen huffed and put her hands on her hips. She was a little wide there, I thought.

“I called Margaret. She says you can come to her party,” she said. “Later you can tell me all about the parties you used to go to. Five minutes,” she told Daddy, and left us.

I looked at him.

“Tell her about the parties I went to? I never went to any party.”

“Just make up something racy,” he said. “That’s all she wants to hear. Something naughty. That’s how teenage girls are. They like to tempt each other with outlandish things, titillate.”

I shook my head. He was telling me how teenage girls behave. What did he think I was, an alien? I couldn’t do this. This was not going to work.

“How could I become someone else this fast?”

He stared at me. He didn’t have to say it, because I could see it on his face.

He was able to do it, and therefore, so should I.

I was his daughter, wasn’t I?