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When I went downstairs I found the house at sixes and sevens. People were scurrying to and fro, following Mommy's directions to change this and rearrange that. Flowers were being placed in vases everywhere. The maids were hunting down the smallest specks of dust. Every window was being washed, all the furniture polished. The hum of vacuum cleaners filled the air. Mommy was having our ballroom decorated. A six-foot-long glittering Congratulations sign was being hung from the ceiling, as were multicolored balloons, rainbow streamers, and tinsel. The jazz band had arrived to check out the acoustics and set up their stands and instruments.
"Good morning, Pearl," Daddy called as soon as he came in from the patio. "How's my little intern?" He kissed my forehead and embraced me quickly. Nothing I had done or said had pleased Daddy more than my decision to become a doctor. It was something he had once hoped for himself.
"I went as far as premed," he had told me.
"Why didn't you continue, Daddy?" I had asked. For a few moments it looked as if he wouldn't answer. His lips tightened; his eyes grew small, his face dark.
"Events carried me in a different direction," he replied cryptically. "It wasn't meant to be. But," he added quickly, "perhaps that was because it was meant for you."
What events? I wondered. How can something you desire so much not be meant to be? Daddy was so successful in business, it was difficult to imagine anything he couldn't do when he set his mind on it. When I pursued him for the answers, however, Daddy tightened up and became uncomfortable.
"It was just the way things were," he said and left it at that. Because I saw it was too painful for him to discuss, I didn't nag, but that didn't mean the questions were gone. They hung over all of us, dangled invisibly in the house and attached
themselves to the pictures in our family albums, pictures that traced the strange and mysterious turns my parents' lives had taken before and just after I was born. It was as if we had secrets buried in some dusty old trunk in the attic and someday--maybe soon--I would open the trunk and, like Pandora, release the discoveries I would quickly regret.
"I'm afraid you'll have to have breakfast with your brothers only this morning," Daddy said. "I've already eaten, and so has your mother, and we're busier than two bees in a hive."
"I wish you and Mommy hadn't planned quite such a large affair for me, Daddy."
"What? I wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, it's not big enough. Every hour I remember someone else we should have invited."
"The guest list is already a mile long!"
He laughed."Well, with my business interests and your mother's art crowd, not to mention your teachers and friends, we're lucky it's only a mile."
"And my portrait will be unveiled in front of all those people. I'll be so embarrassed."
"Don't think of it as your portrait, Pearl. Think of it as your mother's art," he advised. I nodded. Daddy was always so sensible. He would surely have made a wonderful doctor.
"I'll eat quickly and help you, Daddy." "Nonsense. You relax, young lady. You have a big night ahead of you. You won't know how big until it starts. And you have your speech to worry over, too."
"Will you listen to me practice later?"
"Of course, princess. We'll all be your first audience. But right now I've got to see about our parking arrangements. I've hired a valet service."
"Really?"
"We can't have our guests riding around looking for a place
to park, can we? Make sure your brothers eat their breakfast and don't annoy anyone, will you?" he asked and kissed me again before hurrying to the front of the house.
Jean and Pierre were at the table, both looking so polite and innocent that I knew they were up to something. Strands of Jean's blond hair hung down over his forehead and eyes. As usual his shirt was buttoned incorrectly. Pierre's appearance was perfect, but Pierre wore that tiny smirk around his lips and Jean looked at me with his blue eyes twinkling. I checked my seat to be sure they hadn't put honey on it so I would stick to it.
"Good morning, Pearl," Pierre said. "How's it feel to be graduating?"
"I'm very nervous," I said and sat down. They both stared. "Did you two do anything silly?"
They shook their heads simultaneously, but I didn't trust them. I scrutinized the table, checked the floor by my chair, and studied the salt and pepper shakers. Once, they put pepper in the salt shaker and salt in the pepper, and another time, they put sugar in the salt shaker.
They dipped their spoons into their cereal and ate with their eyes still fixed on me. I looked up at the ceiling to be sure there wasn't a fake black widow spider dangling above me.
"What have you two done?" I demanded. "Nothing," Jean said too quickly.
"I swear if you do anything today, I'll have the two of you locked in the basement."
"I can get out of a locked room," Jean bragged. "I know how to pick a lock. Right, Pierre?"
"It's not hard to do, especially with our old locks," Pierre said pedantically. He had a way of making his eyes small and pressing his lower lip over his upper whenever he offered a serious opinion.
