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“Well,” she said, nodding at the envelope, “did it bring you some good news at least?”
“Sort of. It was from Ethan Hunter.”
“The young man you were seeing?”
“Yes. He explained why he didn’t attend my graduation. His father had a heart attack, and he had to go home to be with his mother.”
“Did his father live?”
“Yes, but he had to have a triple bypass.”
“Well, then, that is good news,” she said, smiling. “I remember I told you to reserve your judgment about him. We’re all so impulsive when we’re young. We haven’t the patience to let things jell a bit. It’s nice that he wrote you. Is he going to call you?”
“I don’t know,” I said, starting my breakfast. “He wants me to write to him first, I thi
nk. He added his e-mail address.”
“I won’t tell you what to do, but he sounds very thoughtful and not like the sort who would waste his time,” she said. She snapped the paper and finished reading, occasionally announcing the names she read and explaining how she knew them. There didn’t seem to be a charity or entertainment affair to which she had not gone in her life. After she had her breakfast, she told me she had a number of things to do before meeting the governor’s wife. She also said that she and my father would have dinner out again tonight.
“I do hate to see you all by yourself so much, Semantha,” she said as she rose to leave.
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. I know what you’ve been through, and I worry you’re going to ruin all the progress you’ve made with your therapist. I promise I will try to devote more time to you as soon as I can. Perhaps you should send Ethan a quick note to let him know you don’t hold a grudge or anything,” she added, flashed a smile, and walked out.
She’s so confusing, I thought. Sometimes she gave me the feeling she was totally into herself and would eventually hurt the family, or what was left of it; and then sometimes, like now, she seemed really concerned about my welfare. Could she really be like an older sister to me, a tried-and-true, trusted friend? Should I give her the chance?
Across the table, sitting in her seat, Cassie simply stared at me and shook her head as if I were a lost cause. She had done that more times than I had strands of hair on my head. Mrs. Dobson came in to clear off Lucille’s dishes.
“She did pick up a letter that was for me,” I told her, and showed her the envelope. “I didn’t mention that you had seen her do it. She said she had scooped up a pile of mail and told me she hadn’t yet gone through it all.”
She paused. “And?”
“I went through it and found my letter. She said she did it accidentally.”
Mrs. Dobson continued to clean up, but then paused, looked at the doorway, and then looked at me. “I’ve known many fine people in my time, Miss Semantha, people of high quality, some quite decent, some quite the opposite. Money and prestige don’t guarantee anything. That woman,” she added, nodding at the doorway, “never does anything accidentally.”
She went into the kitchen.
Across the table, Cassie broke into a wide smile.
“Think what you like,” I told her, “but if there’s anyone who knows what it’s like for people to think badly of you without real proof, it’s yours truly.”
She mocked me with a face of exaggerated sorrow and pity. I left quickly.
That afternoon, before I did anything else, I went on my computer and wrote a quick note to Ethan, just as Lucille had suggested. I thanked him for his letter, wished his father well, and clearly indicated that I would love to hear from him whenever he had a chance to e-mail back. I described my graduation ceremony and told him a little about my father and Lucille and the plans being made for a grand wedding. I also told him about my father’s new honor, but I didn’t tell him anything about Lucille’s political ambitions for him.
Afterward, I changed into my bathing suit, scooped up the novel I wanted to start, and headed for the pool. Downstairs, I found that Uncle Perry’s designs had been delivered. I took them with me and sat on a chaise.
We had a nearly Olympic-size light-blue Pebble Tec pool, deep enough at the far end for a diving board. There was a cabana with bathrooms and five changing rooms with showers. Daddy had installed a large-screen television under the roof of the shady patio, where we had a beautiful blue and white ceramic bar behind which was a full kitchen. To the right of that was a built-in barbecue. Spaced around the pool were a dozen tables with umbrellas, and to the sides was some more outdoor furniture with tables.
I sat back and thought about the grand pool parties with live music that Mother and Daddy had had years ago. I was permitted to stay until ten o’clock, but afterward, I would keep my bedroom windows open so I could hear the music and laughter flowing through the night. Nothing like that had happened around this pool since Mother’s death. I imagined Lucille would plan some parties after she and Daddy were married, but no matter what she did or how elaborate those parties would be, they just couldn’t be the same for me.
I began studying Uncle Perry’s new ideas for teen fashions in the Heaven-stone line. Some of the drawings reminded me of outfits the girls wore at Collier. At the end, he had a list of possible magazines in which he wanted to place advertisements. He wanted me to check those I thought would be most effective. I didn’t read any of them, but I had seen a number of them at the dorm. He added a little note, once again telling me how much he hoped I would come to work in his department.
I was thinking that I would do just that when I heard the phone ringing. I saw it was my private line. I assumed it was Daddy calling and quickly answered.
“Hey, thanks for the e-mail,” I heard Ethan say. “Sounds like a lot going on at the Heaven-stone estate. How are you?”
