Mommy strolled around the immense room looking at the artifacts, the paintings, and the antique furnishing.
"A woman who owns all this could hire a family for the boy," Mommy declared. "Why would she need us?"
"Because hired help is not family," we heard from behind us and turned to see Charlotte Alden Curtis enter.
She looked as elegant and stylish as the day before, albeit a little younger in a cream-colored pantsuit. Gold earrings dangled from her lobes. She wore a gold necklace and watch that looked bejeweled enough for the queen of Saudi Arabia.
"I'm very happy you decided to come. It was a wise decision for yourself and your daughter," she told Mommy.
"We came to see what this was all about. Mrs. Curtis. It doesn't mean we've agreed to anything."
"Let's agree on one thing immediately: that you'll stop calling me Mrs. Curtis and I'll stop calling you Mrs. Wallace. My name is Charlotte and I'm not much older than you are. Monica-- a month, matter of fact. Please." she said, indicating the sofa. She sat across from us.
The maid brought in the lemonades, asked her if she wanted anything. which she didn't, and then quickly left.
"This one. Nancy Sue, has been with me for three years, a record of sorts for a household servant these days. Things." she said with a great sigh, "are not what they were. You have to work harder to find the quality of help my parents and my husband's parents once enjoyed. The grand style is still out there, but it takes more work to attain it."
Grand style? We were simply hoping to survive and she was talking about the quality of servants.
"Let me begin by telling you that I have already spoken with the headmistress of the school I would have Rose attend here. She assures me she would make Rose's transition easy, accommodating her needs and helping her to adjust rapidly,"
That's right, I thought. I -would have to leave school, and right at the end of only the first quarter of my senior year! I turned sharply to Mammy.
"That would be a major problem," she said.
"Oh, no, no, believe me, it won't. If need be, the school would provide a special tutor just to help her adjust. We'll arrange for it no matter what it should cost. I'm sure it won't be any sort of obstacle."
"The work isn't every
thing. She's made friends, become..."
"Friends?" Charlotte pulled herself up and turned to me. "You can certainly keep any friends, any real friends you've made, but imagine being able to invite them here as compared to where you are now," she said with naked arrogance.
"I don't have many friends," I admitted. I thought about the nasty rumors being spread about Daddy and what I had to face when I returned. "Not many at all,"
She smiled.
"You will here, my dear. I'm sure. You are an exceptionally attractive young lady. Boys will flock to you as bears to honey, but I bet you know that already."
I started to protest how that wasn't really my biggest concern, but she rose to end the topic.
"Let me show you the house." she suggested. "I am rather proud of it. It's an authentic Greek revival."
She started out and we followed down the hallway to a large dining room with a table that seated twenty. There was a second, more informal sitting room, an office that looked unused, and of course, the large kitchen.
When we stepped into the hall again. I heard Charlotte say. "Good," under her breath and I turned to look to my right.
Evan had wheeled himself out of his room. Mommy and I gazed at him. He had Daddy's shade of hair, and it was down around his shoulders. The bangs were too long, so that he had to part the strands to prevent them obstructing his vision. He wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that said Evan Dot Com, something he took off his computer, and a pair of leather slippers with no socks.
"I'm happy you've decided to come out to meet everyone, Evan." Charlotte said. "This is your sister. Rose, and her mother. Monica."
He stared at us a moment, and then he turned the chair sharply and wheeled himself back into his room without a word.
Charlotte groaned.
"Oh, dear. You can see what it's like. He can be so difficult, withdrawn. I try so hard to teach him common courtesies, but he has gotten so he is far more comfortable in the society of computers and machines than he is in the company of people. The poor boy avoids all human contact. That's what I am hoping you will correct, dear." she said to me. "He hasn't a single friend. Oh, he has all those names he talks to over the computer, but that's hardly being in any sort of society."
"How is his health?" Mammy asked.