Doreen (21 page)

“It's just so unexpected! I never . . . I mean, how could I have . . . oh, Biz! There you are! Did Heidi tell you? Isn't it just too wonderful?” Standing in Biz and Heidi's bedroom half-dressed, Doreen flung her arms around her cousin with uncharacteristic affection.

“Yes, I heard,” said Biz happily. “You're having lunch? With Uncle Roland?”

“I am, I am. Taking the nine-eighteen train to Boston tomorrow morning. Heidi, what about this?” Doreen twirled around in a high-waisted black skirt and silk blouse from Biz's closet. “Heidi, hello? You there?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Heidi stared at Doreen. “I, uh . . . sure! I mean, it's a start. You need a belt. And shoes.” She poked into Biz's closet. “Maybe the red Mary Janes?”

Heidi was trying to keep it cool while she went through the motions of helping Doreen find an outfit, though inside she was in full-on panic mode. The moment she'd been fantasizing about, Doreen showing Roland all that she'd become, was finally upon them. But to Heidi's dismay, Doreen was actually excited to see him. Thrilled! She'd apparently forgotten all about their conversation in the back of Gordon's town car. Everything her father had done to her, the million ways he'd turned his back on his own daughter, did not seem to matter the least bit to Doreen now. She was happy he wanted to see her. She sought not revenge, but approval! It was an unmitigated catastrophe.

Doreen frowned at her reflection in the mirror. “Red? Isn't that a little . . . I don't know. I want to seem young. You know, virtuous.”

“Of course! But everyone loves a schoolgirl with a sense of fun,” said Heidi, forcing a smile.

They'd made a plan, hadn't they?

But that was over. Heidi only had to look at Doreen glowing with happiness to realize that there would be no place at this luncheon for revenge. Doreen understood that Roland would treat her differently now that she looked and acted like one of his own. And she couldn't wait to bask in the light of his attention. Could Heidi blame her? It was wonderful there.

Heidi cinched a gold belt around Doreen's tiny waist. She waited while she stepped into the T-strap heels, fighting back tears. It would all be hers, Doreen's. She would have everything he promised Heidi—and what was more, she would have him. But so what? What did Heidi want with a bored, sadistic, superior jerk?

And the answer, of course, was everything. Heidi covered her mouth with her hand. She tried to find calm.

“So Dean Crotchett called you in?” Biz asked from her spot on her bed.

“Exactly,” said Doreen, her attention fixed on her reflection. “It was crazy. When I got the notice that he wanted to see me, I thought I was toast. Don't look at me like that. I've been trying to buckle down, Bizzy, really. But it's so hard to focus here! Of everything going on in my life, my studies are the least interesting thing by a mile. So I thought, okay, he's not going to kick me out. He'll just put me on academic probation. No big deal. I can handle it, I just have to concentrate more on schoolwork. But that wasn't it at all!”

The scheme was doomed from the beginning. No matter how angry Doreen might have been at Roland, he was her father. His cruelty only made Doreen
more
desperate to win him over. Heidi had imagined Doreen showing herself to him in her new glory and then
rejecting his attention
. Ludicrous! Short-sighted!

Oh well, oh well, oh well. The fixation on Roland Gibbons was just a crutch anyway. Doreen should go and have a beautiful reunion with dear old dad, and Heidi could cheer her on, hope for the best, let it all go.

But that presented more problems for Heidi. Doreen and Roland as separate entities were manageable to her. The minute they developed their own thing, away from Heidi, she lost control of the story. Roland could spill. He could tell Doreen that Heidi used blackmail and manipulation to secure a spot at Chandler. And that the person she'd blackmailed and manipulated had been Doreen's own father.

Heidi felt sweat beads forming on her usually pore-free forehead. Roland once again had all the power. He could take Doreen from Heidi with two words. And Doreen? With her new position at Chandler, she could easily take the rest. She certainly would not let Heidi go unpunished for turning her father into a chump. Heidi squeezed her eyes shut. She told herself to relax. Turning away from the girls, she tried to find space to breathe.

She'd been an idiot. Blind, stupid, negligent of her own security. Distracted by her dumb happiness, she'd dropped an army of henchmen into Doreen's lap. All she would have to do was give them a nod, and Heidi would be an outcast, friendless and alone.

“No!” Heidi cried.

“Huh?” asked Doreen. “What is it? The belt?”

“What?”

“You said no,” said Biz. She gave her roommate an odd look. “No, what?”

“No! Uh, I mean, no way! Crazy. What you were saying about the dean—”

“Go on, Dorie,” said Biz. “What did he say?”

“Only that he'd received a call from my father. He was giving me an overnight pass, he said. My dad was his buddy back when they were at Chandler, like a hundred million years ago.”

Heidi needed to stop this from happening. She just had to talk Doreen out of seeing her father. And she could do it, too. She may have taken a little break from social engineering, but she was still the original Heidi Whelan. Doreen learned it all from her.

“So he was making an exception for me to be able to spend the night in Boston on Saturday. ‘Your father really wants to see you.' That's what he said, can you believe it?” Doreen beamed. Heidi took a deep breath. Here was her chance.

“And you think that's true?” Heidi asked. “You think he really
wants
to see you?”

“Of course he does! I'm so happy for you, Doreen,” said Biz.

But Doreen looked nervous. “Why?” she asked Heidi. “You think he doesn't?”

“No. It seems like an abrupt change, that's all.”

“What's gotten into you, Heidi?” asked Biz.

“Nothing! But why should he . . . I mean, shouldn't Doreen . . . like, as long as he says jump, she says how high? Isn't that a little, ahem,
pathetic
?”

“He's her father. I think you should be supportive.”

“I am, but why would he suddenly want to see her? I mean, out of the blue? I just don't want to see you get hurt again, Do-do. He hasn't exactly been a force for good in your life. We discussed this, if you remember, on our way back from New York. In Gordon Lichter's limo?”

“But why would the dean say he wanted to see me if he didn't?” Doreen's brow creased, her hands fluttered around as if unsure of where they could safely be placed on her person. “This is a mistake. Oh, he's going to mock me, humiliate me.” She kicked off the heels and began to unbutton the blouse. “I'm not going. Screw Dean Crotchett and his stupid overnight pass! Screw Boston!” Tears streamed down Doreen's face. Heidi smiled.

“It's okay, Doreen. You're right, screw him. Hey! I have a great idea. Why don't I text John Elliott's townie friend to buy us some beer? We can have our own party right here. We can invite Claire and the Mi-Mi's and Lord Voldemort—I mean Chastity.” The bleach job had made the girl completely bald. “I can't imagine she has anything else on her social calendar.”

“Now hold on a second,” said Biz. She put a steady hand on her cousin's shoulder. “Just relax.” She turned Doreen to face her and began to do up the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons on her own shirt. She brushed Doreen's hair out of her eyes and retrieved the red shoes, setting them down in front of Doreen so she could step into them. Then she squatted down at her feet and buckled the red straps. “Uncle Roland may not be winning any father-of-the-year awards, I'll give you that, but why would he go to such elaborate lengths—calling in a favor to Crotchett, setting up a place to meet in Boston—if he just wants to humiliate you? What is he going to do? Stand you up and watch, crouched beneath a window somewhere as you sit alone waiting for him? Doesn't it seem a bit far-fetched? Isn't it more likely that he simply wants to check in on you, his daughter? And his investment, I might add.”

“That's true. He probably wants to make sure I'm not wasting his money. But I can show him how much I've changed, can't I? Oh, he's in for a real surprise.”

“I don't think you've changed that much,” Biz said warmly. “You're still that same little girl I remember from Amagansett all those years ago. The one who loved to dance.”

“Oh, Bizzy,” said Doreen. “You're right. This is all going to be great.”

“The misguided triumph of hope over experience,” said Heidi with a scowl. Biz shot her a look. “Just saying.”

“Let it go, Heidi. No matter what they've been through, Doreen is Uncle Roland's daughter and he loves her. He is going to be so proud when he sees you, Doreen. Except I do think your outfit is missing something.”

Doreen returned to her reflection. “What? What is it?”

Biz opened her underwear drawer and dug out a small black velvet box. “Grandmère Kiki's diamonds! They will be perfect.”

Doreen's eyes brightened. “Oh, but I couldn't. Look at them! They're tremendous!”

“Just put them on, Dorie,” said Biz. “I mean, she was your grandmother, too.”

Doreen screwed the giant diamond earrings into her ears.

“Wait, but wasn't Grandmère Kiki your father's mother?” Heidi asked. Her head felt like it was about to burst a vessel. “So she wasn't related to Doreen at all.”

“Yes, well.” Biz leaned her head on Doreen's shoulder and looked into the mirror at their double-reflection. “No need to get technical about it. Anyway, they look really pretty on. I think Uncle Roland is going to be quite taken aback.”

“Oh, thank you, Biz! They are too perfect!” Doreen flung her arms around her cousin again. “What do you think, Heidi?”

Heidi watched Doreen spin around joyfully. She saw how it would all go down. Doreen would show up at the restaurant with her gorgeous face and her longing for acceptance and suddenly Roland would have this perfect little daughter, an ideal expression of his worth. Humiliate him? Doreen's change was just another feather in his already overstuffed cap. He would love her and help her and Heidi would be where she always was, on her own. Helping her own damn self. Until Doreen said Heidi's name, that is. Then she'd be nowhere.

“You look stunning, Doreen,” Heidi said. “It's the perfect outfit.” What were her options? She could work on Doreen's insecurities, ensuring that she never saw Roland again. Or she could follow her to Boston and find a way to thwart the meeting altogether. But she just didn't want to do that anymore. She was out of practice, for one thing, and she was tired. She wanted to let go, to be optimistic for once. Maybe Doreen wouldn't mention her. They would have plenty of other things to discuss. And even if she did, would he really tell her the truth? It didn't exactly look great for Roland that he'd been outwitted by a high school girl. And if it came right down to it, she wasn't without resources.

Heidi could fight her way out of anything. But hopefully all she would need was a little faith. She swiped at her face, taking out the tear before it leaked.

“Just take care of yourself, okay? Not that I know him personally.”

But Doreen didn't hear her. She was too invested in the way the diamonds caught the light as she turned her head from side to side.

Doreen said she was too nervous and excited to eat, which relieved Heidi somewhat, since she wasn't sure she could take much more of Doreen's enthusiasm. But as Biz and Heidi turned toward the dining hall, they were practically mowed down by a small girl in an Andean sweater.

“Ow! Watch where you're going, bitch!” Heidi yelled, pushing the girl with enough force to knock her onto the ground.

“Heidi!” said Biz.