Luke, I thought, surrounded now by pretty coeds, healthy, happy girls who can walk and laugh and do fun things with him. Maybe he had delayed coming to visit me because he couldn't stand to see me the way I was. I would surprise him; I would look stronger, better, and I would be better.
"All right, Tony, send for the hairdresser, but I'm not saying permit him to dye my hair yet. I think I just want it washed and styled right now."
"Whatever you think." He stepped back. "How well that dress fits you. You will wear it, won't you? You should," he said, nodding, his eyes intense, "being it was your mother's."
Once again-he said magic words.
"I'll wear it, Tony."
"Good. Well now, I've got things to do. That hairdresser will be here if I have to fetch him myself." He stepped closer to me. "Thank you, Annie, for giving me a chance after the things I told you. You're truly a sweet and wonderful person." He kissed me softly on the cheek. "Be back soon," he said and rushed out.
For a long moment I simply sat there staring at myself in the wall mirror. Back in Winnerrow Mommy had a few different black dresses, one very similar to this one, I thought. Maybe that was why, as I gazed into the mirror now, I felt as though her spirit merged with mine. I saw her eyes in my eyes, the smile around her lips become the smile around mine. It was like focusing a camera, bringing the lines of the image together so the picture would be clear and sharp.
My heart pounded with the pain that resulted from the realization she would never again come up beside me while I prepared to go out to a party or to school and put her hand on my shoulder, stroke my hair, give me some advice, or kiss my cheek. Wearing this dress and making myself look more like her only brought home that painful truth more vividly.
I wheeled myself away from the mirror and over to the vanity table to get a tissue. While I wiped my eyes,
I looked at some of the other photographs. There was one particular picture that captured my attention. In it Mommy was posing in a silly way by the stables. Maybe Daddy took the picture; but what caught my eye was Tony in the background. He was gazing at her the same way he had just been gazing at me, with that same twisted smile.
I studied it for a few moments and then looked at some of the other photographs. One of my grandmother Leigh stood out. I brought it beside the one of my mother at the stables and realized what it was that made the two pictures so significant. My grandmother was at the stables, too, and she was taking a similarly silly poise and wearing the same riding outfit. When the two pictures were held side by side, my mother and her mother looked more like sisters.
Maybe that was what made Tony smile so. It should have made me smile, too, but it didn't.
"Did you want to take off that dress or wear it all day?" Mrs. Broadfield snapped. I turned about and saw her standing just in the doorway, her hands on her hips. If she was annoyed by Tony's orders, she shouldn't be taking it out on me, I thought. Aggressively, no longer willing to play humble and helpless, I held my head high and proud, flaring back.
"Of course not," I said. "I'll take it off and set it aside for tomorrow."
Her eyes widened with surprise at my tone of voice and she dropped her hands from her hips.
"Fine. It's time for your hydrotherapy, anyway." She went into the bathroom to prepare the hot water. This time when she lowered me into it, it seemed absolutely scalding. I cried out in pain, but she didn't seem concerned. I could see my skin turning crimson under the water. It took my breath away, and I tried to lift my body up and out, but she pressed my shoulders down, keeping me submerged in the scorching water.
"You've got to build up a tolerance to the heat," she explained after I complained again, and then she started up the jets that made the water bubble and toss about. Hot drops bounced up to my breasts and neck, some hitting my cheeks and stinging. She left me there, clinging to the sides while she went out to prepare some creams for my massage.
I looked down at my traitorous legs and feet and did as the doctor told me to do, think recuperation . . recuperation . . . recuperation. I had to get myself out of this situation as fast as I could. I stared at my toes and thought about moving them. Suddenly, I saw my big toe twitch.
"Mrs. Broadjield!"She didn't come back, thinking only wanted her to get me out of the hot tub. "Mrs. Broadfield, come look!" I demanded. After I called again, she returned.
"I told you. You have to--"
"No, no, it's my big toe. The big toe on my right foot moved." She looked down into the water. "Move it again."
I tried, but nothing happened.
"It did move. I saw it. I did!"
She shook her head.
"What you saw was the wave in the water. It made it appear as if the toe moved."
"No, it did. I swear."
"Uh-huh. Very nice." She spun on her heel and went back to preparing my massage.
Feeling dejected, exhausted from the heat and the effort, I lay my head back and closed my eyes and waited for her to make up her mind I had had enough. Finally she returned and helped me out of the tub. My skin was as red as it would be had I fallen asleep on Virginia Beach in July and I was as limp as overcooked spaghetti. She spread me out facedown on the towels on my bed. I closed my eyes as she worked her strong hands down my body, beginning behind my neck and moving in slow circles over my back and buttocks.
I opened them abruptly when I heard Tony's voice. My God, I thought, I'm stark naked on this bed! I tried to turn around to pull some of the toweling over me, but I couldn't move fast enough or enough of my body to do so, and Mrs. Broadfield did little to help.
"Sorry," he said. I just caught sight of him out of the corner of my right eye. "Just stopped by to tell you the hairdresser will be here at three. Sorry," he said again and left.