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“Nothing interested me enough.”
She nodded and sat on my bed. “I know your problem, Semantha. You simply won’t let yourself enjoy anything. You feel guilty when you do, correct? You think because your mother died so young and tragically and your sister . . . your sister did the things she did and died so harshly, it’s wrong for you to be happy.”
She reached for my hand. I wanted to pull it back, but it was as if Daddy were in the room, too, watching, studying my reactions.
“I know how difficult it must be for you to forget all that. Maybe it’s impossible to really forget, but what I do with bad memories is pile on good memories, deliberately do things to please myself, to create happy times, and after a while, the weight of all that drives the bad memories farther and farther down until they don’t come back at you so often, and even when they do, they’re easy to push away. Doesn’t that sound like a good plan?”
“I suppose, but I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Of course you can.” She patted my hand. “Now, tell me about this young man who didn’t show up for your graduation. I could see at lunch that you didn’t want to say much about him. You gave such vague answers. But from what you had told your father, it sounded like you were developing a nice relationship.”
Daddy had told her that? What hadn’t he told her other than what he wanted me never to tell her about Cassie and Mother? He was already sharing my private life with her, even before he had become engaged. It angered and disappointed me, but what was I to do about it now?
“We were going out for a while, yes,” I said.
“Well, tell me more details about him. You said his name was Ethan?”
“Ethan Hunter. I did tell you he’s graduating from SUNY Albany, and he was interested in business.”
“Is he enrolled in a graduate school? Which one?”
“No, he’s not. He plans to spend this year actually in the working world. Why do you want to know so much about him, anyway?”
She smiled. “When it comes to men, I have good instincts. That’s evident by the fact that I’m with your father. So, tell me, really. What sort of a young man is Ethan? I don’t mean tell me about his grades. Think about your impressions of him as a person. Draw a picture of him for me so I can visualize him.”
“It’s no longer important.”
“Humor me,” she said. “Please.”
“He’s very intelligent, ambitious, and mature,” I said quickly. I described his physical features and added that he had a very nice smile.
“And his family? You didn’t say that much about them at lunch.”
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“I told you his father is an accountant. I don’t know how rich they are,” I said, now letting some Cassie bitterness into my voice.
“Oh, I’m not impressed by people with money, Semantha. As you can imagine, because of my father’s position in the bank, we have always known wealthy people. In my view, money often makes potentially interesting people boring.”
“Really? Money does that? Why?” I asked, surprised.
“They get too comfortable, rarely do spontaneous, interesting things. All sorts of advisers manage their lives. I know people who don’t even know their own net worth. They leave it up to some hired hand to decide if they can buy this or that, and often when they want something, they get talked out of it because it isn’t as financially wise as something they don’t want as much. For some people, money is freedom, but for most, as far as I can tell, it’s another form of imprisonment.
“So, getting back to my question, I wouldn’t judge your boyfriend one way or another based on his family’s income. Money doesn’t make your character, but your character can help you make money. That is, if you’re sincere and trustworthy. Is your boyfriend sincere and trustworthy?”
“I guess he’s not really my boyfriend,” I said. “I mean, we never said we wouldn’t see anyone else, and no promises were made for the future.”
“And most of all, he didn’t show up for your graduation, which I know was very upsetting for you,” she added, nodding in sympathy. “Do you have any idea why not? He hasn’t called since?”
I had an idea, but I wouldn’t tell her. That was for sure. I had the feeling, though, that she saw it in my face.
“No, he hasn’t called.”
“Well, whatever. I just wanted to assure you that one disappointment in love has nothing to do with what might come later and also to assure you, without even knowing any more, that it’s not something for which you should blame yourself, no matter what. My goodness, look at you. You’re a bright, beautiful, healthy young lady from a historic family that is the envy of everyone.”
She patted my hand again and stood.
“The worst thing to do is wallow in disappointment, and I have just the solution to prevent that.”
