Little Blackbird
Page 10
“Kate,” Martha said, “I’d love it if you could come over today.”
Kate stared open-mouthed at Martha. Is she serious? She closed her mouth and cleared her throat. “Oh, well, I’m helping my daddy today. He has some…some stuff around the house.”
“That’s okay,” her daddy said. He smiled at Martha. “That’s nice of you to ask. Would you like me to drop her off at your house?”
“That’s okay, Mr. Muir. I drove Mama’s car to town to get a new color of paint for the dining room. She’s in a decorating mood.” Martha waved her hands through the air, emphasizing the word mood. “Kate can go home with me from here. If that’s okay, Kate?”
Martha’s pink lips split into a slow smile, but her eyes remained unchanged as she stared at Kate. Kate glanced at Geoffrey, who shrugged.
“I guess?”
Martha linked her arm through Kate’s, startling Kate with the contact. Martha smiled so brightly that Kate blinked in the glare.
“Wonderful,” Martha said. “I’ll drive Kate home later. Mr. Perkins, could I have a gallon of periwinkle in the best brand of paint you sell? Something good for dining rooms with lots of light. And crystal. Mama, has a lot of crystal, you know. Geoffrey, good to see you again.”
Martha pulled Kate away from the men, and Kate stumbled along beside her. She glanced over her shoulder at Geoffrey, and he gave her a thumbs up. If he didn’t see anything wrong with Martha taking her home for an afternoon, then why did Kate feel as though she’d eaten a bag of smoldering coals?
“WE’LL BE IN my room,” Martha yelled down toward the foyer in response to her mama’s question. Then Martha turned on her heel and marched up the hallway.
Kate glanced over the railing at Martha’s mama standing beneath the foyer’s chandelier made of drop crystals and polished brass that reflected the afternoon sunlight. Her mama looked like a grown-up version of Martha, except with wider hips, more downturned lips, and eyes that were shadowed and heavier. She reminded Kate of a Madame Alexander Wendy doll that had been left in the summer sun for too many seasons, still beautiful but faded, not ready to accept that time had passed.
The sound of Kate’s footsteps was lost on the carpeted runner spanning the length of the long, wide hallway. Doorways adorned with fluted molding and decorative corner pieces dotted both sides of the corridor, and in between openings, paintings with ornate, gilded frames hung. Martha disappeared through a doorway halfway down the hallway, and Kate lingered in the doorway before entering.
Martha’s bedroom was an exhibition of pink and lace and muted light. Pale, baby-girl pink and crisp white striped the wall behind a canopied bed draped with sheer, white fabric tied with fuchsia ribbons to the bedposts. Ornamental, white frames filled with mirrors of varying sizes decorated the striped wall. An antique, white armoire with curving lines and a mirrored front towered against another wall and anchored a rug pattered with pale pink roses and green vines.
A lacy duvet covered her bed, and feather pillows fat like oversize marshmallows leaned against the headboard. A dressing table with an oval mirror was littered with makeup. Pearl necklaces and gold chains with jeweled charms hung inside an open jewelry box, and a tufted pink stool was tucked beneath the table.
Martha opened a door across the room and walked inside. “Let’s do something fun. Charlotte and Betsy will be here soon. I have a great idea.” When she returned, she held an azure dress. She waved it beside her, and it rippled like a flag. “Makeovers!” Her pink lips turned down. “Quit lingering in the doorway and try this on.”
Martha thrust the dress into Kate’s hands, and Kate stared at it as though she’d never seen a dress before. The cotton fabric felt as light and as soft as a handful of rose petals. She held the dress out in front of her and studied the hourglass shape of it. Martha stepped out of her closet again holding a broad white belt with a round buckle.
“This will be perfect,” Martha said. “Go on, try it on already.”
Martha shoved Kate toward an adjoining room that turned out to be a private bathroom.
“You have your own bathroom attached to your bedroom?” Kate gaped at the porcelain clawfoot tub with cast iron taloned feet and at the miniature chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.
“Of course,” Martha said as she walked out and closed Kate inside the bathroom. “Now, change.” Her voice carried through the closed door.
This is what girls do? Try on each other’s clothes? Kate hesitated, but a feeling of delight shivered through her as she thought of putting on the dress. Kate kicked off her shoes and changed out of her casual clothing. She shimmied the dress over her head. It was a half size too large for her, but she caught her reflection in the mirror and gawked.
The dress was the exact color of the lapis lazuli necklace her daddy had given her mama last year on her birthday. Kate smiled and twirled barefoot on the black and white bathroom tiles. She opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom.
“Well, look at you,” Martha said, almost smiling. She wrapped the white belt around Kate’s waist and pulled it tight, slipping the prong through the farthest hole. She looped the extra length of strap through the buckle and stepped away from Kate. “You’re tiny.” Martha inhaled and pressed her hands against her own stomach. “Look at yourself.” She pointed toward the armoire.
Kate stepped in front of the tall mirror. For the first time in her life, she looked like a baby doll. In a crowd of girls, she could slip right in and no one would notice her. She’d be invisible, one of them, a replica.
“Go on, admit you like it,” Martha said. “The dress looks better on you. That’s a good color.”
“Thanks,” Kate mumbled.
Martha grabbed the tufted stool beneath the dressing table. She picked up a silver hairbrush and smacked the stool’s cushion. “Sit.”
Kate obeyed. Martha smoothed Kate’s hair into a low ponytail and held it at the base of her neck. Then she pulled the brush through the long strands.
“Your hair is really long. Have you ever thought of cutting it?” Martha asked.
Kate’s eyes widened in the mirror. She shook her head, and a few dark, strands slipped through Martha’s fingers and dropped to Kate’s shoulders. Kate caught movement as someone stepped through the doorway into the bedroom.
“Let’s ask Charlotte. Oh, and Betsy’s here too. Hey girls. What do you think of cutting Kate’s hair?”
Kate watched as both Charlotte’s and Betsy’s reflections shared the mirror with her.
Charlotte smiled. “I love the dress, Kate. That is definitely your color.”
Martha fisted the brush at her cocked hip. “That’s why I chose it. I haven’t worn it in ages, but I thought it would be a good fit for her.”
Charlotte stepped closer to the stool. “Do you want to cut your hair?”
Kate shifted on the seat and grabbed a section of her hair. She stared at the darkness spilling over her palm like a stream of melted chocolate. “I’ve–I’ve never really thought about it. I mean, mama cuts it sometimes so it’s not too long. But…is it? Is it too long?” She stared up at Charlotte’s reflection.
Martha’s reflection turned to Charlotte. “Not unless you want a specific style, right? It’s not going to hold curl. Betsy?”
Betsy moved in closer. She chewed her bottom lip and tugged at one of her own curls. “I think if you curled it in waves, you’d be the spitting image of Ava Gardner.”
Charlotte’s smiled widened. “You’re right.”
Kate chuckled, unable to meet her own dark-eyed gaze in the mirror. “The actress?”
“Do you know another one?” Charlotte teased.
“But she’s…beautiful,” Kate muttered, staring at her clasped hands.
Charlotte eased Kate’s hair from her shoulders and folded it in half, pressing it against the back of her head and causing the hair to loop and stop at her shoulders. “And you’re not? I think Betsy is right. With a few waves, you could pass for Ava.”
Betsy’s brow wrinkled. “What people?”
Martha ignored Betsy’s question. “So, what do you think, Kate?” Martha leaned toward her, resting her hands on Kate’s shoulders. “Cut it?”
“I cut my sister’s hair all the time. Mama taught me how,” Charlotte said. “I can do it, if you want.”
Charlotte smiled and nodded. Betsy nodded her encouragement too. Kate exhaled and wondered what Geoffrey would think. A tiny smile tugged her lips up at the corners, and she nodded. Martha slapped a pair of scissors into Charlotte’s open palm.
CHARLOTTE OPENED MARTHA’S bathroom door and scurried out. “Don’t come out yet.” Kate heard her talking to Martha and Betsy in the bedroom. “Now, don’t you two turn around until I tell you. Okay, Kate, come on out.”
Kate inhaled slowly. She rocked in place on restless legs. A fast pulse throbbed in her chest. She glanced at herself one last time in the bathroom mirror. Her hair had been cut at least five inches, and now it framed her face in waves and fell just past her shoulders. Dark berry stained her lips, and Charlotte had blended shimmering shades of tan and brown to her upper eyelids and brow bone. Thin, black lines traced the edges of where her lashes met her eyelids, and black mascara elongated her thick lashes. A dusting of rich rouge highlighted her cheekbones.
When Kate stepped into the bedroom, Charlotte clapped her hands together and bounced on her toes. “Okay, y’all turn around.”
Betsy gasped and Martha’s pink lips parted as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t. Kate squirmed beneath their stares.
Charlotte rushed over and draped a few curls over Kate’s shoulders. “Doesn’t she look stunning? You were right, Betsy. Ava Gardner, step aside.”
Betsy walked over. “Gosh, Kate, you look, well, you look so exotic.”
Kate wrung her hands together in front of her. “I don’t look like me.”
Charlotte touched Kate’s upper arm. “Of course you do. Don’t be silly. This is still you. Just a different version.”
“The fancy version,” Betsy said with a wide smile that pushed her plump cheeks up toward her eyes.
Martha cocked her hip to the side and pressed her pink lips together. Then she grinned without showing her teeth. “I wonder what Geoffrey will think.”
Betsy and Charlotte frowned and glanced at Martha.
“Why does that matter?” Charlotte asked.
Martha’s eyebrows rose and her smile widened, reminding Kate of an alligator. “Ask Kate.”
Betsy’s brow wrinkled deeper. “I don’t understand.”
Kate tried to swallow, but she felt as though she’d eaten a mouthful of dried lavender without water.
“Go on, Kate. Tell them.”
Charlotte looked from Kate to Martha. “Tell us what? What is going on?”
“Kate and Geoffrey are together,” Martha sighed dramatically.
Betsy made a choking noise in her throat, and Charlotte turned to face Kate.
“Geoffrey Hamilton?” Charlotte asked.
A shiver swirled up Kate’s spine. “Yes, but we’re not–I mean, it’s not as though–we’re not exactly together.”
Martha laughed, but it sounded tight and tinged with malevolence. “But you were kissing in the hardware store.”
Betsy gasped again and clasped her hands together at her chest. “Oh my.”
Charlotte stepped backward and blinked at Kate as though seeing her for the first time. Then she grinned and giggled. She grabbed Kate’s arm and tugged her toward Martha’s bed. They sat down on the edge of the mattress, and she reached for both of Kate’s hands.
“Tell me everything,” Charlotte said, her blue eyes sparkling with delight, “and don’t leave out any details.”
“Well, they obviously enjoy kissing in public–” Martha blurted.
“Hush, Martha,” Charlotte said, snapping her head toward Martha, “this is Kate’s story. Now, Kate, tell us everything.”
Betsy plopped down on the bed beside Kate, causing Kate to rise up higher on the fluffy duvet. Martha huffed and dragged over the stool from the dressing table. She sat in front of Kate and folded her hands in her lap.
“Go on, Kate,” Martha said before pursing her lips. “Let’s hear how you’ve won over Geoffrey’s heart.” Her voice sounded as rigid as her back looked.
Kate scoffed. “I haven’t won over anyone’s heart.”
“Looking like this, you could win over the Pope’s heart,” Betsy said.
Charlotte laughed. “Betsy, that’s blasphemous, but you’re right.” She turned her blue eyes back toward Kate. “Spill it.”
Kate looked at Betsy’s and Charlotte’s eager faces before meeting Martha’s curious gaze. She thought of Geoffrey, and her cheeks warmed. Charlotte squeezed her hands, and Kate refocused on her. They wanted to know more about her, and Kate’s shoulders relaxed. She smiled and stared at her lap.
“We’ve seen each other a few times,” Kate said with a shrug.
“Like in the hardware store,” Betsy said and giggled.
Kate blushed so hard that her palms began to sweat, and she let go of Charlotte’s hands. “That doesn’t usually happen. That was all Geoffrey. I wouldn’t–you know, I wouldn’t do that normally.”
Charlotte sighed loudly. “But who can resist a Hamilton?”
“Exactly,” Kate said.
Martha made a motion for Kate continue. “What else? We know about the store and the picnic. Where else do you see each other? Obviously you two are closer than we thought.”
“I’ve been to his house.”
Martha’s nostrils widened. “He took you home?” Kate nodded. “To his room?”
Kate shook her head, and curls tumbled around her face. “Of course not. That would be inappropriate.”
Martha snorted. “More inappropriate than the hardware store?”
“Enough about the store,” Charlotte said. “We’ve all been overcome with the urge to kiss a handsome boy, haven’t we?” Charlotte narrowed her gaze at Martha. “Don’t act like you didn’t kiss Roddy Temple senseless behind the bleachers during that football game last fall.”
Martha’s body tensed. “Who told you that?”
Charlotte chuckled. “Everyone and their grandma could have seen you. Just so happens I did.”
“My grandma did too,” Betsy chimed in.
Martha tugged on her earring. “He was going back to college the next day, and he begged me for a kiss. I’d never kiss anyone in public like that.” Her eyes met Kate’s. “He begged me.”
“Oh, cool it, Martha,” Charlotte teased. “We don’t care a lick about it.” She looked at Kate. “We’ve all been there. So…how was it?”
Kate blinked. “How was what?”
“The kiss,” Betsy and Charlotte chorused.
Kate couldn’t stop the warm tingle that started in her chest and spread all the way down to her toes. She smiled. “Oh, well, that…it was wonderful. All of them are.” An embarrassed giggle bubbled up Kate’s throat, and Charlotte and Betsy joined her.
“Other than the hardware store,” Charlotte said, still giggling, “where else have you been kissing Mr. Hamilton?”
Kate smiled into her lap as she thought of the imaginary list she and Geoffrey had been keeping of all the locations where he’d kissed her. “Way up in a tree.”
They giggled more, and Betsy turned toward Kate on the bed. Betsy slipped one leg beneath her and sat on it. “That makes me think of kissing on the Ferris wheel at the carnival. Wouldn’t that be romantic? You know the carnival will be here in two days. We should all go together.”
Charlotte nodded. “That’s a great idea.”
“And we can invite some guys to join us,” Betsy added.
Martha lifted one shoulder. “Why not? We’ll just have to keep Betsy away from the fried dough. Remember you ate so much last year th
at your dresses were too tight?”
Kate felt Betsy stiffen on the bed. Martha’s smirk caused a knot to twist in Kate’s stomach. Kate looked at Betsy.
“I’ve never had fried dough,” Kate said. “I’d love to try it with you.”
Betsy’s face relaxed, and then she smiled at Kate. “You’ll love it.”
Excitement rocketed through Kate, filling her with an emotion she’d never felt before. She had friends. Not friends in books or in flowers or in her mama and daddy. Real ones. She would go to the carnival with girls and see Geoffrey and maybe kiss him on the Ferris wheel. Kate couldn’t stop smiling. The sun stole behind the clouds, darkening the bedroom before stretching shadows across Martha’s face.
KATE PUSHED OPEN the front door of her house still laughing at Charlotte’s joke. She and Martha waved at Kate through the windshield as they drove off. The living room and kitchen were empty, but dinner sat warming on the stove.
“Mama?” Kate called. She heard voices in the backyard. She opened the backdoor and stood in the doorway. “Mama? Daddy?”
Her parents’ arms were linked at the elbows, and her mama leaned into her daddy and laughed. Kate wondered if her face lit up like her mama’s when she looked at Geoffrey. Kate skipped into the yard. She wanted to tell her mama how fun her day had been, how she had friends now, how they were all going to the carnival in two days.
Kate stepped up behind them. “Hey y’all.”
They turned in unison with the setting sun haloing their silhouettes in a blushing light. Kate couldn’t stop smiling.
“I had the best time,” she gushed.
Her daddy lifted his hand slowly and pointed at her head. “What have you done to your hair?”
“What have you done to your face?” her mama asked, stepping away from her daddy, her skirt swishing about her bare feet.
Kate had nearly forgotten about her hair and makeup. She pulled her fingers through her shortened hair, feeling the roll of the waves. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s just–you look…” he stuttered.