"Very funny, Olivia. You see, Thelma, she's always knocking me down. I could get a complex."
"Please, spare us," I cried.
Thelma laughed but I knew she was perceptive enough to see how much of a burden Belinda had been, and still was.
When Louise Childs gave birth, Samuel was again ecstatic. He came to the office to tell me with a wide, gloating smile on his face.
"Guess what?" he said stepping into my office. "Louise gave birth this morning, but it was a daughter."
"There's nothing wrong with having a daughter, Samuel. Are they both doing well?"
"Yes, but Nelson's not. He went into hiding," he said with a laugh.
"The only thing with less intelligence than a chauvinistic man is a clam," I declared and he roared.
"Nevertheless," he bragged, "I've got a boy."
The first year of Jacob's life passed so quickly, I couldn't believe we were celebrating his first birthday so soon. Daddy had improved to the point where he could carry on a short conversation and walk with a walker. His arm didn't quite regain half its strength and his hand was more like a claw. He had to eat very slowly and it was always very messy. Belinda got so she couldn't take a meal with him and avoided doing so.
"It turns my stomach to see the soup drool down his chin or the food on his lip, Olivia. Don't yell at me," she cried when I complained about her leaving Daddy to eat his dinner alone every single night. "I can't eat and that upsets him more!"
I didn't doubt she had trouble sitting there. She was never good at stomaching anything. Even a cut on her finger terrified her. The sight of blood turned her a shade whiter than milk. I never forgot how sickly pale and terrified she looked the night she gave birth to the premature fetus.
"Well, try not to make him feel like some sort of creature, Belinda. Imagine what he's going through and remember some of the unpleasantness he helped you through," I lectured.
"I'll try," she promised, but still she rarely ate with him.
Maybe Daddy was better off with her out of his sight. She was still doing little with her life. She tried to take an adult education secretarial course given at the high school in the evening, promising to master some skills and really do some worthwhile work at the office. Daddy actually had high hopes for her, and was very upset when he learned a few months later that she had stopped going to the class. She pretended she had been attending, but simply met her degenerate friends and either went bar hopping or, when the weather was good, to a party on the beach or on someone's yacht. It got so I couldn't keep track of whom she was with and when. There were just too many new boys in her life.
The stories about her flowed freely my way, of course. Our acquaintances, especially the wives of our business associates, loved leaking the tales to me or to Samuel. Finally, I decided to take some serious action and I went to see Daddy early one afternoon. I was determined to stop my sister from tearing down everything good and respectable about our family. Why should I be afraid to go to fine restaurants or social affairs, afraid that someone would mention her and ruin my evening?
/> I found Daddy dozing in the living room and woke him. I told him I had come to talk about Belinda. His eyes grew dark.
"We can't ignore her any longer," I began. "I've written to the Collier Business College in Boston, and I've gotten Belinda enrolled in their courses for a year. Yesterday, I spoke with Cousin Paula, and she agreed to rent her upstairs room to Belinda. It's walking distance from the school. You've got to insist she goes and you've got to threaten to cut off all funds from her if she doesn't go and succeed. If you don't take a strong stand with her now, Daddy, I don't know what will become of her. This is the very last time I'm going to try to help."
He stared at me with those big, watery eyes. His lower lip still looked unhinged in the right corner, just showing some of his teeth.
He nodded and promised, but I had to come to the house and be there when Belinda put up her usual opposition.
"I don't want to live with Cousin Paula," she whined.
"She's old and cranky. She'll make my life miserable. I'd rather have my own apartment," she concluded. "Or I won't go," she said stamping her foot like some petulant five-year-old.
"That's an enormous expense and frankly, Belinda, it would be a gamble in your case and Daddy and our family have lost enough money because of you. You don't need your own apartment. Cousin Paula lives alone. It will work out well for both of you."
"She never liked me, Daddy," she moaned, "and I never liked her. She's the one with hair on her chin. How can a woman look at herself in the mirror and let hairs grow on her chin?"
"She doesn't have to fall in love with you, Belinda, and you don't have to fall in love with her. Just obey her rules and go to school. This is your very last opportunity to do something with your life."
"Why? I'm going to get married anyway. I'll just make sure to marry someone with money." "When?"
"Soon," she promised.
"Until then, develop some skills. You can return and work in our business if you have some skills," I added.
"Oh, won't that be wonderful," she moaned. She looked away and then at Daddy. "I can't go to Boston for a year. Daddy needs me here."
"You're not here much and when you are, you're of no help to him anyway," I snapped. "Now, Daddy and I have discussed this and you either go to school or get a job, a real job, not working for us. Frankly, you can't do anything for us, but maybe you can work as a waitress or something."