Shooting Stars 03 Rose (6 page)

Mommy was still sitting exactly where we had left her, the same dumbfounded expression on her face. After a moment she turned to me.

"Do you believe all that?" She looked down at the letters in her hand and the check. "How could he have done this? How could he have kept such a dark secret? Did he treat this with the same nonchalance he treated everything else in our lives? Did he not expect that it would came back at him someday?"

I lowered myself to a chair and stared at the floor. Like a tickle that turned into a scratch, a horrible gnawing thought made its way to the top of my thoughts. Slowly, I raised my eyes to Mammy.

"Some people think Daddy might have deliberately killed himself, Mammy. Do you think this makes it more likely to be true?"

The idea dawned on her, too, but when it came to her, it was more like a slap in the face.
She shook her head, but she started to cry. I leaped from my chair to embrace her and the two of us sat there on the settee, rocking each other, tears streaking down both our faces. Finally, she took a deep breath and sat back.
"What does that woman really want?" she asked me.
"I don't know. Mommy." She thought a moment.
"She did look very rich." she said, and gazed with haunted eves at our small, dark, and tired living room. "Maybe we should see what it's really all about.
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"You mean, go there?"
"Why not?" Mommy asked. rising. "When you're at the end of your rope and dangling, you look kindly on any hand reaching out to hold you up. Rose. Any hand," she concluded and returned to the kitchen.
Neither of us had much of an appetite, but we both ate mechanically so the other would. Every once in a while. Mommy would choke back a sob and shake her head while she muttered about Daddy.
"I almost do feel sorrier for that poor dead girl than I do for myself. I can see how she could easily be charmed and persuaded by your father. He enjoyed spreading his illusions and dreams. He was the Pied Piper of Fantasyland, leading us all down the road to popped bubbles."
She thought a moment, and then jumped up from the table and went upstairs. Moments later she returned with that black and white photograph she had found in the closet and put it on the table. We both stared down at the young woman again. Mommy nodding.
"This must be Angelica. I can see the resemblances to Charlotte, can't you?"
I had to admit I could.
"Why did he keep her picture in our house?" she wondered aloud. She shook her head at my blank stare,
"You don't have to say it. I can see it in your fact. Why should I look for logic in a man who never paid attention to logic?" She took a deep breath and gazed at the picture again. "I'm not going to look for ways to deny it, to pretend it didn't happen. Rose."
Just then, as if some great power was listening in on our conversation and arranging for everything to happen, the phone rang. Mammy went to it and I listened.
"Yes," she said. "we will be ready." She nodded as she listened and then she hung up. "The car will be here at ten," she said. "We might as well learn all of it. You'll have to miss a day of school. Rose."
"Okay, Mammy,"
It saddened me, but when I looked down at the photograph, it seemed as if the girl in the picture was smiling more.
When Barry called me later that evening. I was tempted to tell him about it all, but my embarrassment and my fears that it would fan the fires of nasty gossip, especially regarding the cause of Daddy's death, kept me from uttering a word of truth. I told him I would go to the
movies with him on Friday, but not to be concerned about my being absent tomorrow. I said I had some important family business that needed to be attended to and left it at that.
"I'll miss you.'' he said. It added the touch of warmth I desperately needed to keep the chill from my cringing heart.
The town car was there promptly at ten the next morning. There was only the driver waiting. He was a tall, dark man with military-style posture. He introduced himself simply as Ames and opened the doors for Mommy and me. We got in and moments later, we were headed toward Atlanta.
"It's really only about thirty minutes from here," he explained. "If you'd like any candy, ma'am, there's some in a dish behind you."
"No, thank you," Mommy said.
He was quiet the remainder of the journey until we were approaching the driveway of the Curtis mansion.
"We're here." he announced.
Two sprawling great oak trees stood like sentinels at the scrolled cast-iron gate, which was fastened to two columns of stone. It opened before us and we drove on to see a truly magnificent two- story house with four Doric pillars, a full height entry porch, and elaborate cornices. Mommy looked at me with amazement in her eyes.
"Is this a house or a museum?" she muttered.
The grounds spread out around the house for what looked like miles. I saw two men trimming bushes and another riding a lawn mower. In the distance a line of trees formed a solid wall of green under the blue horizon. I had seen houses and land like this before, of course, but I had never known anyone who actually lived in such a home.
The driver brought us to the front steps. We at out slowly, both of us so busy filling our eyes with the sights and the immensity of the estate, neither of us saw the front door open.
A short, plump woman wearing a white apron and a blue maid's uniform waited. We started up the stairway. Instinctively I moved closer to Mammy.
"Right this way, please," the maid said, and we entered behind her. "A museum," Mammy whispered again.
Before us was a curved stairway with a shiny, thick mahogany balustrade; on the walls were large oil paintings of beautiful country settings, lakes, and meadows, all done in vibrant colors, many, it seemed, by the same artist. Vases on marble-topped tables and glass cases filled with expensive-looking figurines, crystals, and the like lined the hallway, the floor of which was Italian marble.
"Please wait here," the maid said, showing us into a sitting room with elegant gold-trimmed velvet curtains over the windows, a plush white rug, and oversized pieces of furniture including what looked like a
brass statue of an Egyptian queen. The room was so large. I thought we could put most of our present house in it. "Mrs. Curtis will be here in a moment. Would you like anything to drink-- a cold lemonade, juice. soda?"
"Lemonade," Mammy said.
"Yes," I added.
"Very good," the maid said and left us.
Mommy strolled around the immense room looking at the artifacts, the paintings, and the antique furnishing.
"A woman who owns all this could hire a family for the boy," Mommy declared. "Why would she need us?"
"Because hired help is not family," we heard from behind us and turned to see Charlotte Alden Curtis enter.
She looked as elegant and stylish as the day before, albeit a little younger in a cream-colored pantsuit. Gold earrings dangled from her lobes. She wore a gold necklace and watch that looked bejeweled enough for the queen of Saudi Arabia.
"I'm very happy you decided to come. It was a wise decision for yourself and your daughter," she told Mommy.
"We came to see what this was all about. Mrs. Curtis. It doesn't mean we've agreed to anything."
"Let's agree on one thing immediately: that you'll stop calling me Mrs. Curtis and I'll stop calling you Mrs. Wallace. My name is Charlotte and I'm not much older than you are. Monica-- a month, matter of fact. Please." she said, indicating the sofa. She sat across from us.
The maid brought in the lemonades, asked her if she wanted anything. which she didn't, and then quickly left.
"This one. Nancy Sue, has been with me for three years, a record of sorts for a household servant these days. Things." she said with a great sigh, "are not what they were. You have to work harder to find the quality of help my parents and my husband's parents once enjoyed. The grand style is still out there, but it takes more work to attain it."
Grand style? We were simply hoping to survive and she was talking about the quality of servants.
"Let me begin by telling you that I have already spoken with the headmistress of the school I would have Rose attend here. She assures me she would make Rose's transition easy, accommodating her needs and helping her to adjust rapidly,"
That's right, I thought. I
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would have to leave school, and right at the end of only the first quarter of my senior year! I turned sharply to Mammy.
"That would be a major problem," she said.
"Oh, no, no, believe me, it won't. If need be, the school would
provide a special tutor just to help her adjust. We'll arrange for it no matter what it should cost. I'm sure it won't be any sort of obstacle."
"The work isn't everything. She's made friends, become..."
"Friends?" Charlotte pulled herself up and turned to me. "You can certainly keep any friends, any real friends you've made, but imagine being able to invite them here as compared to where you are now," she said with naked arrogance.
"I don't have many friends," I admitted. I thought about the nasty rumors being spread about Daddy and what I had to face when I returned. "Not many at all,"
She smiled.
"You will here, my dear. I'm sure. You are an exceptionally attractive young lady. Boys will flock to you as bears to honey, but I bet you know that already."
I started to protest how that wasn't really my biggest concern, but she rose to end the topic.
"Let me show you the house." she suggested. "I am rather proud of it. It's an authentic Greek revival."
She started out and we followed down the hallway to a large dining room with a table that seated twenty. There was a second, more informal sitting room, an office that looked unused, and of course, the large kitchen.
When we stepped into the hall again. I heard Charlotte say. "Good," under her breath and I turned to look to my right.
Evan had wheeled himself out of his room. Mommy and I gazed at him. He had Daddy's shade of hair, and it was down around his shoulders. The bangs were too long, so that he had to part the strands to prevent them obstructing his vision. He wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that said Evan Dot Com, something he took off his computer, and a pair of leather slippers with no socks.
"I'm happy you've decided to come out to meet everyone, Evan." Charlotte said. "This is your sister. Rose, and her mother. Monica."
He stared at us a moment, and then he turned the chair sharply and wheeled himself back into his room without a word.
Charlotte groaned.
"Oh, dear. You can see what it's like. He can be so difficult, withdrawn. I try so hard to teach him common courtesies, but he has gotten so he is far more comfortable in the society of computers and machines than he is in the company of people. The poor boy avoids all human contact. That's what I am hoping you will correct, dear." she said to me. "He hasn't a single friend. Oh, he has all those names he talks to over the computer, but that's hardly being in any sort of society."
"How is his health?" Mammy asked.
"Aside from his problem with his legs, he is a healthy young man. He
doesn't get out long enough to catch anything," she added as if that was something to regret. "I have to have the barber come here when he will permit it and then he won't let the man do much more than snip an inch or so here and there and you should see what it's like to get him to go to the dentist or to his doctor. The only thing that gets him excited is shopping at one of those electronic stores and he doesn't do that very much anymore either. because he's able to do it all over the computer. Sometimes. I think he is turning into a computer."
She sighed again.
"Please." she said. "follow me.''
She led us up the stairs to show us what would be our rooms.
The room she said would be Mommy's had a queen-sized cherry four-poster bed, a sitting area with a fireplace and a television set in a matching wood cabinet. The room had its own bathroom. There were two large windows facing south with pretty flowerpatterned curtains. The floor was a rich maple wood with an area rug. The room looked warm,
comfortable, and very inviting. Charlotte pointed out all the closet space.
When Mommy said she had hardly enough to fill half of it. Charlotte replied. "Well, you will be buying more clothes. Monica. I want you to be very stylish and in fashion. My hope is you and I will become good friends and go to many social affairs together. You'll be the sister I've lost," she said. "I'm looking forward to that." she added with such sincerity. Mommy had to look at me with surprise. I didn't
know what to say or do to react.
"Let's look at Rose's room." Charlotte quickly continued.
The room she declared would be mine was right across from Mommy's and just as large, also with its own bathroom and small sitting area with a television set on a stand. There was a queen-sized light oak bed with what looked like handmade quilts. Above it was a ceiling fan, and there were two large windows with curtains that matched the quilts. The area rug was somewhat larger. This, too, looked very warm and comfortable.
"You can have your own phone, of course," Charlotte told me. "I'll have it set up with your private number."
What could I say? The room was easily twice, if not three times, the size of my present room, and I didn't have my own bathroom like I would here.
"This was my sister's room," she added. She turned to me to see my reaction.
I felt a quickened heartbeat and looked at the room again.
"Of course, all of her things are gone. I gave most of it away and stored some of her personal things in the attic.
"There are two more guest bedrooms and the master bedroom up here and a guest bedroom downstairs," she said. "As you can see, plenty of room, too much for just little old me and poor crippled Evan now."
Mommy looked at me again and then turned to her.
"What is it you expect from us exactly. Charlotte? You have a maid who cooks your meals and cleans your home. You have a chauffeur. You have all you need to look after you and the house. I understand why you want a companion for Evan, but what would I do?"
Charlotte nodded and sat on the chair to the right of the bed. Her face softened, her eyes warming.
"That's all true, Monica, but when I leave here. I can't help feeling I'm deserting him. This is such a big house. It can feel so empty sometimes, so cold. With you and Rose here, too, there will be so much added warmth. I am hoping it will eventually bring Evan out and what my poor dead sister wanted so much for him will finally take place. Does that help you understand? Doesn't it make sense?"
Nodding slowly, Mommy looked around the room and at me, her mind obviously reeling with indecision, confusion.
"I am simply trying to get some good from all this tragedy and unhappiness," Charlotte said, seeing the same thing in Mommy's face. 'Why should y'all continue to suffer? Why should Evan? Why should I when I have all this at my fingertips, more than I need?"
Mommy's head seemed to nod on its own and keep nodding. "Let us talk about it. Charlotte," she offered.
"Oh, yes, dear:' she replied with excitement. "Stay here. I'll see about lunch for all of us. Maybe Rose can entice poor Evan to come out and eat with people instead of a computer monitor," she said, rising quickly. "Feel free to look all around while I make the arrangements," she said and left us.
"I'm absolutely overwhelmed," Mammy said, reaching out to steady herself on the bedpost. "My head is spinning. Look at this place. It's like a five-star hotel. These rooms are so large and beautiful and the grounds... and you would attend a better school and she wants to buy me clothes..."
She paused and looked at me. "What do you think. Rose?"
"I'm just as overwhelmed. Mommy. I don't know what to say. I don't want you getting sick with worry about our financial situation, a financial situation Daddy left us. I can also see how Charlotte is right and how she seems to need us. In a very twisted and strange way, this good thing is Daddy's doing, too."
Mammy nodded.
"Yes. I'll do it if you will," she said quickly. "I'm not so proud as to cause us to miss a chance to escape our misery and put so much of a burden on you."
I looked around at what would instantly become my new world, my new life. I couldn't stop my heart from pounding in anticipation, but