"What?"
"I don't give my homework out to be copied."
"Well, that's pretty selfish," she said, pulling her head back like a cobra about to strike, "It's not like it's so valuable, you know."
"Then why worry about it?" I countered, and Basil laughed. She gave him a furious look and stormed off to complain about me. That was when Basil told me school wasn't important to these kids.
"They know their parents will carpet their futures with gold." he muttered, and then sauntered off before I could agree or disagree.
In the weeks that followed I was practically the only one he spoke to or who spoke to him. We didn't have long conversations, nor did he show any signs of interest in me. and I certainly did nothing to give the impression I was in any way romantically interested in him, which was why I was so shocked when one Friday afternoon Mommy asked me about him.
"I understand you've made one friend at the school. Grace," she said. "A boy named Basil?"
"What? Who told you that?"
"I'm often at lunch with the mothers of three of the girls at your school. Faye Wilhelm, Barbara Johnson. and Marjorie Meriweather, Why did you become so friendly with that bay? They tell me he's been in and out of therapy and would be in some special institution if it wasn't for the donations to the school that his parents make."
"I'm not so friendly with him. We just chat occasionally," I said. "And besides, what do all these women do, spy on their children and find out whom they speak with in school?"
"Of course not. They are just concerned. When you have position and significant wealth you have to take a lot more interest in your children. There's nothing wrong with that."
I stared at my mother for a moment. This wasn't her talking. Someone else had crawled into my mother's body. She could see my eyes narrow with anger. I saw how she braced herself.
"Are you more interested in me and my welfare than you were before, now that we have money, too, Mommy?"
"Of course not. That's not what I'm saying."
"What are you saying, Mommy?"
She looked at me and then shook her head. "Oh, let's stop this bickering over nonsense. If you don't make an effort to become friends with decent people I'll have to help you."
"What? What do you mean. help me? How are you going to help me?"
"We'll have a party and invite some of them and their parents. I've already discussed it with Winston. and I have convinced him it's a good idea.-
"No you didn't. You forced him to agree it's a good idea. You'd better not do it." I warned.
"Stop it. Grace. You're going to appreciate it and thank me later on.' she said, and left before I could protest any further.
As soon as I could. I complained to Winston. He had just returned from a game of golf and was heading up to their suite when I called to him from my doorway.
"Hey. What's up, my'dear?" he asked, pretending to be Cary Grant. "Someone forget to put out your deck lounge?"
I didn't laugh. I wanted him to understand this was serious right from the start. His smile quickly faded.
'Uh-oh," he moaned. I could see he knew what I was about to say.
"Mommy is threatening to stage a get-to-knowme-or-else party," I said "She said you said it was all right."
"I see." He stepped into my room and sat on the settee.
"It's embarrassing. Winston. And besides, the one thing I don't want these girls to think is that I'm really dying to become their friend."
He nodded.
"I thought you agreed it wasn't the right thing to do."
"I did."