"Janet will blossom like a flower in our soil, won't she, Sanford?"
"Yes, dear," he said. "Please. Just rest a bit now. It's been a very long and emotional day for all of us."
"And when she does," Celine continued, ignoring him, "she will dazzle audiences the way I was meant to dazzle them."
Dazzle audiences? I thought. Me? The one the other children called Miss Fraidy Cat for as long as I could remember? The one who couldn't speak loud enough for someone right beside me to hear properly? Perform before audiences and dazzle them? How could I? As soon as Celine and Sanford realized I couldn't, they would send me back. I was so sure of it, my heart shriveled into a tight little knot. The beautiful room, this home, the promise of a family, all of it really was just a dream. I bowed my head and slowly descended the stairs.
I wandered into the living room and gazed up at the painting of Celine that hung above the mantel. The artist had captured her in the middle of a leap, maybe that changement de pieds she had described. Her legs, the ones that were hidden under a blanket, lifeless and limp now, looked shapely and muscular in the painting. She resembled a bird, soaring, just as she had described how I would feel someday. How graceful and beautiful she looked against the dark background. The painting was so lifelike, I half expected her to land before me.
"So here you are." I turned to see Sanford in the doorway. "Celine's taking a little rest. Come on. I'll show you our grounds. We'll walk down to the lake," he added and I noticed that he spoke in an entirely different voice when Celine wasn't around.
When we got outside I saw that the sky had cleared as Celine had said it would. I was beginning to wonder if everyone and everything did as Celine asked.
"This way," Sanford said, turning right at the bottom of the steps. He walked with his hands behind his back, his tall, lean body leaning forward. He took long, lanky strides, one for every two of mine. "This house was a find. It was in very good shape for its age, but we made a number of changes and improvements," he said. "I'm sure you will be as happy here as we have been, Janet." He smiled at me and nodded at the descending hillside before us. "Just over the crest is our lake. I have a rowboat, but we haven't used it for some time. Can you swim?"
"No sir," I said softly, afraid to add another "can't" to my name Can't dance. Can't swim. Can't stay.
"Oh, well, that will have to be remedied before summer, and please, don't call me sir. If you can't call me Dad yet, just call me Sanford, okay?" His eyes twinkled and I relaxed and smiled back at him. Somehow I'd already gotten the impression that Sanford was going to be a lot easier to please than Celine.
We walked on.
"I have a service that comes twice a week to care for the grounds," he said. He waved his long arm toward the east. "We own all this property and then some. I've left woods intact so we have the privacy and the feeling we're out in nature. We're really not that far from the city. The private school you'll attend is only fifteen miles away, actually. Celine has already made all the arrangements. I just have to bring you there to enroll you."
"She has?" It made me feel strange to think that Celine had been planning a life for me, for us, before I'd even met her. What if I had said no to going home with them? But then, I was an orphan, and orphans never say no.
Sanford laughed at the perplexed look on my face.
"Oh yes. Celine has been preparing for your arrival literally from the first moment she set eyes on you, Janet. I'll never forget that day. She was so excited, she couldn't sleep and she wouldn't stop talking about you. She talked late into the night and when I woke up the next morning, your name was the first word on her lips."
Rather than fill me with joy, these words sent tiny electric shocks of fear along my spine. What did Celine see in me that I couldn't see in myself, that no one had ever seen before? What if it was all untrue?
"How come you don't have any children of your own?" I asked.
For a few minutes he walked along silently, and I thought perhaps he hadn't heard me, but then he paused, looked back at the house, and sighed. The grim expression that I had seen earlier was quickly returning to his face.
"I wanted to have children. From the first day we were married, I planned on having a family, but Celine was too devoted to her career, and she believed giving birth would take away from her power as a dancer.
"Anyway," he said, continuing to walk toward the hill, "she would be the first to admit she didn't have the temperament for children in those days." He shook his head. "You would have had to look far and wide to find someone as moody. I felt like an inept weatherman, unable to predict the days of sunshine or the days of gloom. One moment she was laughing, light, and happy, and the next, because of some dissatisfaction with her rehearsal, she would become dark and sad, wilting like a flower without water. Nothing I did could cheer her. But," he said, smiling at me again, "now that you're here, that's all going to change. There'll be no more dark days."
How could I make Celine so happy that she'd forget about her legs? Would watching me dance really make her feel any better about never being able to dance herself? How was I to be responsible for Celine's happiness? I was too small and too shy. I'd never be able to do it.
"I used to feel like was walking barefoot on shattered glass when I returned home from business every day," Sanford continued and his voice interrupted my worrying. It was nice listening to him, to hear him open his heart to me as if I was already part of his family or had been a part of it for years. I just wish the thoughts and desires he confided in me were pleasant ones, but the more Sanford spoke the more I realized how sad and bitter he was. "Celine's moods were totally unpredictable, and after the accident they got worse. Now, that's all going to be different," he emphasized cheerily. I could tell he was trying not to say anything else gloomy.
We stopped at the top of the hill and looked out at the lake. It shimmered in the sunlight, the water looking smooth as ice. There was a dock just below us with the rowboat he had described.
"The lake's not that big, only about a half a mile or so, but it's nice to have water on your property. And the geese--who visit every year are quite a sight toward the end of the summer. You'll see," he said. I was happy to hear him plan on my being here for a long time.
"It's pretty," I said. I was thankful he'd changed the subject.
"Yes, it is." He thought a moment and then looked at me. "Well, I've been talking about us so much, I haven't given you a chance to talk about yourself. What are the things you like to do? Did you ever ice-skate or roller-skate?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"I'm sure you haven't ever gone skiing. Do you play any sports?"
"I only play sports in school. I usually don't play at the orphanage."
"What about books? Do you like to read?" "Yes."