Page 3 of The Other Half

Her stern voice stopped me in my tracks. “No. Your grandfather wants to see you.”

Part of the reason I stayed out so late, or I suppose early since it was already ten in the morning, was to avoid his critical glares. Most mornings he left for the office at eight on the dot and I could stumble in as I pleased and fall into bed. Nancy, the cook, would send eggs and fruit to my room and my dog, Poppy, would snuggle up beside me and we’d sleep all day then join him for dinner when I didn’t look like something that washed up in the Hudson River.

“Let me clean up and change and I’ll come–”

“Now.” Eleanor’s razor-sharp tone ripped through me. Though she had been curt with me lately this was colder than her new normal. I couldn’t help but wonder why.

With a nod, I followed her toward the tall doors at the end of the hallway leading to Grandpa’s office. I wondered if this is what it felt like getting marched to the principals’ office. When I was in high school, I never broke a rule or stepped out of line. Though no one who saw me today would believe it, I was a straight-A student, always home by curfew, and I graduated the class valedictorian. But as we approached the towering doors before me, I finally knew what those naughty students felt like.

“Good morning, Miss Cassandra!” Lily, our newest housekeeper, called from behind us. When I turned to see her, I lit up when I saw my dog bouncing on a leash beside her.

“Good morning, Lily! And look who it is! Princess Poppy!”

Dropping to my knees, I opened my arms and Lily released the leash. Poppy sprinted down the hall toward me, running so fast her tiny little ears pressed back into her head, and then she launched all seven pounds of her brown body into my arms.

“Princess Poppy! I missed you!” Her flat face pressed into mine while she snorted and covered me with kisses. “Are you the most beautiful girl? Like a model! You look just like a beautiful model!” Those big, bulging eyes got wider when I cooed over her and the kisses and snorts continued.

“I just got her back from her morning walk. She saw a little bulldog on the street she was quite taken with.” Lily smiled.

“Oh, is that right, Princess Poppy? You met a boy? You little fox!” Poppy wiggled around some more then settled down in my arms. “Thank you for taking her out, Lily.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Cassandra. She’s just the cutest thing!”

“Did you hear that, Poppy? She agrees! You’re the cutest thing ever!”

While I reunited with my little dog, Eleanor cleared her throat and the sense of doom pierced my gut once again. My grandfather waited inside, and from the seriousness of her look and tone I had every right to be worried.

“I’ll take her from here, Lily. Thanks again.”

Rising up and clutching Poppy tight, I inhaled a deep breath and tried to look as sober as I could while the doors swung open. Eleanor stepped aside and the fact she remained outside drove the doom a little deeper as I stepped past her. Our eyes met for a moment and I wasn’t sure if it was pity or condemnation I saw in them, but it only lasted for a second before she bowed her head and stepped out, slamming the doors shut behind me.

“Good morning, Cassandra,” my grandfather said, and I looked up to see him sitting at his mahogany desk wearing a similar expression to Eleanor’s. His grey eyebrows, the only hair left on his head, pressed together while he gestured to the chair across from him.

“Hi, Grandpa,” I said, my voice rising a few octaves with my nerves. “This isn’t how it looks.” I tried that once again, but his scowl deepened, and it worked no better on him than it did on Eleanor.

“Sit.”

“Yes, Grandpa.” Hurrying across the room on my stiletto heels, I swiped my miniskirt under my butt and sat down, trying, and failing, to look less like a hooker and more like the granddaughter of one of New York’s most influential men.

The silence settled over us and I shrunk under the weight of his stare. When my grandfather used to look at me his cheeks would swell with his smile and those green eyes of his I’d inherited would ignite like I was the light of his life. Now, those emerald orbs appraised me with revulsion and wrinkles formed on his nose while he noted my appearance. This wasn’t the first scolding I’d had in the last two years, but something felt different today.

Serious.

“Cassandra. Look at yourself.”

“I can’t. No mirror,” I joked, but it only caused his face to deepen to a shade of crimson.

“This is no laughing matter, Cassandra!” he shouted, and I pressed back into my chair under the weight of his words. Poppy cowered in my arms and I held her tighter, both of us startled by the force coming out of the man who rarely raised his voice. “Look at yourself! What has become of you?”

“Grandpa, please. If you’ll just let me go get cleaned up, we can sit down and—”

“Go get cleaned up? You shouldn’t need to go get cleaned up! You’re a Davenport! And look at you! You look like a streetwalker!”

His confirmation of how I felt I looked did nothing to ease the discomfort I felt beneath his penetrating gaze. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay out so late.”

“You never do, Cassandra. Yet, every night. Every. Single. Night. You are out drinking and doing drugs with those hoodlums you’ve gotten yourself trussed up with. The Six-Pack.” He spit out the name of my crew and scoffed as he tossed the morning paper on the desk. It was open to the social page from this morning’s paper and I saw a photo of myself and Liza standing on a bar with a shirtless man sandwiched between us.

“Oh, God.” Pressing my palm to my face, I felt the last of my buzz fade away as cold, grim reality seeped into every cell of my body. My grandpa was staring at a photo of me requiring a censor label to block out my crotch.