"Nothing's changed since you called day before yesterday. Mommy," I said, She told me how much she looked forward to seeing me and how I would love the gifts she and Winston had bought for me.
The following day I fell asleep on a lounge by the pool while reading and wake to the sound of her calling my name from the rear loggia. For a moment I didn't know who it was. She had done her hair again, this time in an even shorter style, but she had colored it as well.
"Grace, we're back." she announced, and spun on her heels to model her new self. She was wearing a pretty two-piece pants set and new shoes.
"What happened to your hair?" I asked.
"Don't you like it? I had it done over in Monte Carlo. The stylist thought I might look striking in black hair. Winston likes it."
I shook my head. "You look... different," was all I could manage.
"That's the idea. silly. Now come into the house to see what we brought back for you. I had it all brought up to your suite." she said. and gave me a quick hug. 'I have so much to tell you and pictures to show you Stop staring at me like that and come along."
I rose and followed, Inside Winston was giving the servants instructions. The moment he saw me he stopped and rushed over to hug me as well.
"How do you like your new mother?" he asked with a wry smile,
"I'm not sure." I replied honestly. "It's too shocking a change."
"Oh, you'll get used to it," she assured me. "C'mon." she said, grabbing my hand and leading me up to my room.
I stopped in the doorway. The bed was covered with boxes. There were even same piled beside it.
"What is all this?"
"Clothes and jewelry and shoes and same pictures for your walls and perfume. Oh. and this wonderful French facial cream that will keep your skin soft forever. I bought a lot in Saint-Tropez. There were wonderful artists and handicraft makers in Eze and Saint-Paul-de-Venice."
I began to look at the gifts. It was truly overwhelming. "There's so much." I couldn't help saying. and she laughed.
"Get used to it." she told me, and proceeded to go through each and every present, explaining where she had been. how Winston had helped negotiate prices, and what she had bought for herself as well.
I couldn't deny that Mommy was happy. Sometimes in the days and weeks that followed I felt she was forcing herself to be happy, but that might have been what I was doing. One of the first things she did in the house was take over one of the dens and create her own office. just to handle the social schedule. Winston's personal secretary soon was working with her as well, at times more than she worked with Winston. I thought. An oversized calendar was put up on the office wall. Even; weekend for months was filled with one event or another, and soon the weekdays followed. It wasn't that she wanted to attend everything. In fact, she gave me a short lecture about the differences between the A-list parties and events and the others.
The ants that were considered A actually had an A inscribed alongside them.
One of the first publications Mommy acquired was something Winston's secretary called the black book. It was The Social Index Directory, a Who's Who of the most important people, their addresses, and other important data. These were the people she said she would invite to any affairs at Joya del Mar. Any affairs any of these people invited her to she would be sure to attend. When I said it reeked of snobbery, she actually flamed up and turned her temper on me.
"That goes both ways. Grace. You can't dislike people just because they have money and influence. There's nothing wrong with associating with people who are in your class."
"In our class? We're not blue-bloods, Mommy. We're simple people."
"Of course we're not simple people. My forefathers and your father's were important people," she declared.
I smiled incredulously at her, and she looked away quickly. What fictions was she creating in her own mind? Later Winston found me sulking down by the beach.
"Hey," he said. "you've been a stranger all day today. Anything wrong?"
"No," I shot back, practically taking his head off with my reply.
"Oh boy." he moaned, and sat on the sand beside me. "I used to do this a lot." he began. "You get so busy and so wrapped up with things you forget to stop to smell the roses. An hour or so out here is good spiritual medicine. I could stare at the sea for hours and hours."
I felt my body relax and snuck a glance at him. He was looking intently at the breakers. Off to the right, sliding against the horizon, we could s
ee a cargo ship.
"Your mother thinks we should have a party just for you, invite the young people who belong to some of the families we know. What do you think?"
"I won't come." I said.