"And what did he do?"
"He just laughed. He laughed at everything I said and did. So you see, I'm sure he doesn't think all that much of me. He hasn't called me, has he? You mailed his underwear to his school and he didn't even call to thank us, did he?"
She was right about that. I was very
disappointed he hadn't responded. I had taken great pains to pack the garment so no one would ask any embarrassing questions.
"Frankly, I don't care if he does call or comes around again. I don't want to think about him."
"Fine," I told her. "Don't think about him." She turned from the mirror.
"Why are you getting so angry about it?" She stared at me a moment and then smiled. "You like him, don't you, Olivia?" she said. "You finally fell in love with someone!"
"That's not true."
"Yes, it's true. Sure, it's true. My sister is in love," she declared to her mirror image as if it proved I was just like her. "Do you dream of him, fantasize about being with him? Why don't you call him? Why don't you go visit him at his school?" she asked, still looking at herself. It was as though she were talking to herself.
"You don't chase after men like that, Belinda," I snapped. "And I didn't say I was in love with him. You did."
"You are," she said confidently and turned back to me. "So what? Why hide it? I never do whenever I fall in love. And why can't you chase after a man? What makes them so special?"
"It's not that they're special. We're special. That's why we shouldn't act so desperate. I swear, talking to you is like talking to . . . a four-year-old sometimes."
"Don't get upset with me just because I know you have a crush on Nelson Childs."
"I don't!" I screamed.
"Yes, you do. I might just tell him myself one day." "If you do anything like that, Belinda Gordon, I'll personally rip out your tongue," I threatened.
She smiled impishly, her eyes full of glee.
"Belinda, I'm warning you."
"Okay, okay," she said, but she didn't stop teasing me for days, doing things like pretending at the office that Nelson was on the telephone, or by writing N.C. on my notepads. No matter how I swore or glared at her, she simply laughed. "The Little General's in love," she sang.
I told Daddy about her antics at the office, but he didn't chastise her. Instead, he bought her a songbird in a gilded cage. She had wanted one for some time. It seemed that no matter what she did or how she behaved, Daddy always rained gifts on her, whereas he simply gave me a substantial salary. His justification was I could buy myself whatever I wanted. Belinda couldn't, but whose fault was that if not her own?
I knew Daddy had an ulterior motive when he bought her the bird, but I predicted the bird would either starve to death or die of some other form of neglect.
"It will not," Belinda retorted. "It will be very happy living in my room, a room full of sunshine even on rainy days. Won't it, Mommy?"
"Yes, dear," Mother replied like some windup toy whose button had been pressed.
Nevertheless, Belinda had to be reminded to clean out the cage and feed the bird every day thereafter, finally complaining and asking why the maid couldn't do it as well as everything else.
The following Tuesday night, Daddy declared we would have the family meeting after dinner. There were important things to discuss.
"Oh, not another one of those dreadful meetings,"
Belinda cried at the dinner table. "I didn't do anything wrong, Daddy. Did someone say I did?" she asked, glaring my way.
"It's not about anyone doing anything wrong," he said.
"Did we spend too much on clothes again?" she asked looking to Mother.
From Daddy's expression, I could see he knew nothing about that.
"Let's just wait until after dinner, Belinda," Mother replied quickly. Whatever she had spent on Belinda, she didn't want Daddy thinking about it now. "It's better for the digestion if we don't discuss heavy matters while we eat."