SECRET WHISPERS
Page 17
I thought I was still dreaming when I heard my name being whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes and saw Ethan kneeling beside my bed. He had one of our Heaven-stone emblem guest robes on. My eyelids flickered, and I sat up.
“I heard your father and Lucille go down to breakfast,” he said. “I can’t believe you slept longer than me.”
“I had more dreams to finish,” I told him, and he laughed. He sat on the floor and continued to look up at me. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
“Oh, sure. That bed’s a cloud. I just thought it would be sort of impolite not to join them for breakfast. I don’t want your father thinking I’m a goof-off.”
“I thought you said you weren’t concerned. You were here to see me.”
“I know, but I don’t like coming off like some playboy or something.”
“I won’t let him think that. Don’t worry.”
“We could get dressed and down there before they leave, just to show our faces.”
“I’d rather you crawled in here,” I said, lifting the blanket.
He smiled, looked at the door, and shook his head. “I’d be too nervous.”
“Lucille promised never to walk in without my permission again.”
“Later,” he insisted, and rose. “Let’s do it. Let’s get down there before they leave.”
I supposed I should be more understanding. To me, Daddy was just Daddy, but to someone outside our family, he was surely a superstar. That was especially true for Ethan now that he had seen firsthand what the Heaven-stone family estate was. Reluctantly, I agreed, and he rushed off to dress. I moaned, rose, and scrubbed my face, brushed my hair, and threw on a robe. He returned fully dressed in a pair of slacks and a nice, sparrow-blue shirt.
“You could have gone down in a robe, too,” I told him. “Now I’ll look like the spoiled one.”
“It’s all right for you to look like that, but not me. You’re the Heaven-stone princess.”
I know I should have been flattered, but when he said that, it made me wince. All my life, I had been trying not to be a princess in the eyes of my schoolmates and especially at Collier, but it did seem impossible. Like some member of royalty, I merely had to ask Daddy for something and it would be at my feet pretty quickly.
“Don’t get stuffy on me,” I warned. He laughed but looked a little anxious. It was as if he were afraid to do anything that would upset me even in the smallest way. “I’m just kidding, Ethan. Let’s go before you have a nervous breakdown and need my therapist.”
That brought smiles back to his face, and we giggled our way down the stairs and to the dining room. They were just finishing up, but I have to say Daddy did look pleased that we had come down before they left.
“I assume you both slept well,” Lucille said.
“This house could cure insomnia,” Ethan told her.
Daddy laughed, and Ethan began asking him just the sorts of questions about some of our artifacts, portraits, and framed documents that he loved. In fact, it was Lucille who reminded him how late it was getting.
“We’ll finish the conversation at dinner tonight,” he declared. “Lucille has asked our store manager, Richard Erickson, to personally greet and escort you about the store. I understand you’re going to lunch with Perry, Semantha?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Great. I hope you enjoy the day,” he said, and then he did something he hadn’t done for quite a while. He paused at my chair and waited for me to rise to kiss him good-bye. I looked at Lucille, but I couldn’t tell from the expression on her face whether that pleased or annoyed her. It was just that sort of emotionless expression that Cassie had used to call a mask of ice.
And like a mask of ice, it left me with a chill.
And left me with a question. Does it eventually melt away, or does it come and go whenever the truth would be too dangerous to know?
Like a Dream
OUR DAY AT one of the Heaven-stone Stores turned out to be as educational for me as it was for Ethan. Because I was with him and he knew so many important questions to ask, I learned so much more about Heaven-stone Department Stores’ operations. Neither Daddy nor Lucille was there in the morning. They were attending some chamber of commerce meeting, but it was clear that Richard Erickson had been given strict orders to devote most of his energies and attention to our tour.
Richard Erickson had been with the store for nearly ten years, but I couldn’t recall saying five words to him or him saying five words to me before this. It was clear that he was nervous, however. He was tall and thin, with delicate facial features for a man, including eyelashes girls like Ellie would kill to have. He continually cleared his throat before replying and shifted his light brown eyes from me as if he were afraid of being discovered incompetent. Later, Uncle Perry would reveal that most of the managers in the stores were concerned about Lucille’s scrutiny of their work and were just as nervous as Mr. Erickson, who probably suspected that I might report back to her. Uncle Perry didn’t seem critical of Lucille for this, but he didn’t seem to approve, either.
“Just from the little I know and have seen of Mr. Heaven-stone,” Ethan said after he heard Uncle Perry’s explanation, “I wouldn’t think he would fire anyone who was doing a good job. He strikes me as being what we call a ‘bottom-line man.’”
Uncle Perry glanced at me. I saw that small, impish smile invade the corners of his mouth. “A man in love often has cloudy eyes, which could fog up the bottom line,” he said. “And my brother is without a doubt a man in love.”
Ethan laughed, but I already knew when his laugh was sincere and when it was a response to what was expected. I wanted to lean over at the restaurant table and whisper, “You never have to be subtle or afraid of telling Uncle Perry the truth. There’s not a mean bone in his body, and he is no gossip.”
Later, Ethan did relax with Uncle Perry when they got into a discussion about his design department and the advertising for the stores. I saw that Uncle Perry was impressed with Ethan’s understanding of the various media outlets. He rattled off so many facts and figures someone would think he had spent his last four years of college majoring in the Heaven-stone Corporation.
“You have a pretty bright young man here,” Uncle Perry told me when Ethan left to go to the bathroom. “Bright and quite good-looking. I spoke for only a minute or so with Teddy this morning, but he seemed quite pleased with him.” Then he leaned forward to ask sotto voce, “What does Lucille think of him? Any clue?”
“I’m sure her jury’s still out,” I said.
He laughed. “I’d hate to have her on a jury judging me, even if I knew I was innocent,” he said. “She’d make the defense attorney work his rear off, but I suppose that’s a good quality. She is an extraordinary woman, different from your mother, but perhaps just what the doctor ordered for Teddy right now. I can’t believe this wedding. It’s turning out to be the social event of the year. There are people actually trying to get invited, conniving for an invitation. I can’t tell you how many calls I’ve received from people asking me to do them a favor or promising to do me one if I can deliver.”
Ethan returned as Uncle Perry finished what he was saying.
“From what I’ve heard about it, I don’t blame them. I think if I were one of them, I’d try just as hard for an invitation,” he said.
Uncle Perry smiled at me. “I don’t think you’ll have to work that hard to get anyone you want an invite, right, Sam?” He winked. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment to invite Ethan. I suppose I had been thinking he would be back home looking to find some meaningful employment.
Besides, when it came to the wedding, there was something else on my mind. I didn’t want to bring it up right now, but my father’s agreeing with Lucille to replace Uncle Perry as his best man was still bothering me.
“Maybe it’s becoming too much of an event, more like a political event, Uncle Perry.”
“What do you mean?”
“Having the senator be my fath
er’s best man,” I replied. “I’m sure they’re not that close.”
Ethan’s eyebrows rose. I hadn’t told him about any of that. “A United States senator?” he asked.
I nodded. “Uncle Perry should be my father’s best man.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Uncle Perry said. “I was your father’s best man when he married your mother. That meant far more to me than it would this time around.”
My eyes glistened with tears. He couldn’t have said anything that would have given me more comfort.
“Let’s just ride with the tide, Sam. We’ll all do just fine,” he added, reaching to squeeze my hand. “C’mon, let’s get back to my offices. I want to show you where you’d work if you want to have a real job, and I’d like your opinion of a new advertising concept involving the Internet, Ethan.”
“Absolutely. I’d be honored,” he said.
Uncle Perry gave me a sort of half-smile, one that signaled a note of caution. Ethan was sounding a little too diplomatic. It opened the door to a Cassie-like thought. Christmas trees, Semantha. Get him to stop trying so hard. Even a blind man could see through the coats of sugar.
When we stepped into the parking lot, Uncle Perry whistled at my car. “What was it like driving that over here?” he asked Ethan.
“Like I had stepped into some dream machine. We didn’t ride; we floated.”
We entered Uncle Perry’s offices, and he immediately showed Ethan some of his advertising plans for the Internet. Although he was nice about it, Ethan was very critical. He supported all of his criticism with good information, and by the end of the afternoon, he had persuaded Uncle Perry to make changes.
“You do have a pretty bright guy here,” Uncle Perry told me when we could speak without Ethan overhearing. “And someone who’s not afraid to disagree when he thinks he’s right. I wasn’t expecting it. I like that.”
His review of Ethan made my day, but I couldn’t say I was very excited about my prospective area in Uncle Perry’s offices. It made me feel a bit claustrophobic. He sensed it and told me to take my time deciding. He promised that no matter what I decided, he would still rely on me for advice. It made me think of Lucille’s advice, which was similar, but I didn’t tell him that. Maybe I was the one who was being the diplomat now.
Later, when we were alone again, Ethan told me he didn’t think I would enjoy spending my time in a small office at one of the stores. He almost parroted Lucille word for word, telling me I should be out among younger people more.
“Maybe you should take your time and enroll in some college classes,” he added. “You have a good community college nearby.”
I didn’t say anything, but there was a part of me that wasn’t happy with the suggestion. If I were a young man seeing a girl like me, I wouldn’t want her in any environment where she could meet someone else and maybe fall in love with someone else. “Love when it’s real and passionate makes you selfish,” Mother had once told me. I had been too young then to fully understand what she meant, but I understood it now. You become unreasonably jealous and don’t like sharing your loved one with anyone, even for good reason.
I think Ethan saw the disappointment in my face. He quickly added, “As long as it’s an all-girl college.”
Lucille had thought of everything for us when she and Daddy had planned our day. She had arranged for both of us to freshen up at the store’s executive bathrooms and had the head of the men’s clothing department arrange for Ethan to be dressed and fitted in something new. The same was done for me in the women’s department. It was as if Christmas had arrived early. Because I had never really taken advantage of being my father’s daughter at any of our stores, both Ethan and I felt like kids turned loose in a candy store. We rushed up and down the stairs to show each other what we might choose.
Afterward, when Daddy and Lucille met us and Lucille complimented our choices, Ethan said, “I never felt so guilty. I’ve never taken so much from anyone without somehow earning it.”
“Please consider it Mr. Heaven-stone’s and my graduation present for you, Ethan,” Lucille replied.
“Yes, but—”
“Please, don’t make a big thing of it,” she firmly insisted.
He said no more, but it really did seem to bother him, and I could see that earned him another brownie point with my father. It impressed Daddy enough for him to offer Ethan some of the advice his father had given him.
“Lucille’s right. It’s our pleasure—but you’re right, too, Ethan. Never let yourself get too indebted to anyone. Semantha’s grandfather always told me to make sure that whoever gave me a dollar got something worth a dollar from me. Obligations poison your well of independence.”
“Absolutely,” Ethan replied. “My father’s given me similar advice at times.”
“Wise man.”
“You two worry too much about the small stuff,” Lucille half joked.
Afterward, we went to the wonderful, elegant restaurant she had chosen for our dinner. Even I was impressed with how important everyone there made us all seem. I could see Ethan was truly overwhelmed, but he kept his poise, and when Daddy asked him for his opinions on what he had seen at the store, he had a lot to say, much of which seemed to impress Daddy and Lucille as much as it had Uncle Perry.
“It’s good to have fresh eyes every once in a while,” Lucille said. “People can get too confident in the status quo.”
“Absolutely,” Daddy said.
I thought that if it were raining and Lucille said the sun was shining, Daddy would agree. Was that the Cassie in me again?
But it had been a wonderful day and evening. Ethan and I were both flying high on the drive home. Daddy and Lucille announced that they were staying at his usual hotel suite in the city because they had some very important early meetings to attend. Plans were made for us all to have dinner the following night, with Lucille choosing the restaurant rather than us eating at home. Nothing had been said about how long Ethan was staying, but we all assumed he wouldn’t have come all this way for just three nights. When I asked him when he intended to leave, what day his return airplane ticket was for, he surprised me by telling me he had left it open. He gave me a shy look.
“I wasn’t sure how you would feel about me considering how we ended up in Albany. I thought you might be just being polite, but I was willing to take the chance.”
“I’m glad you did, Ethan.”
He smiled and sped up. Neither of us could wait to get home.
It was late, so I didn’t anticipate seeing either Mrs. Dobson or Doris waiting up for us, but when we started up the stairway, I thought I saw Mrs. Dobson peering around a corner. She really was like a grandmother to me, worrying that I was home safely. We paused at my bedroom door. He reached out to embrace me.
“Not here,” I said, and continued on to his guest bedroom. He didn’t need an explanation. Without a word, he opened the door for me, and I entered. His first kiss was cautious, careful, almost as careful a kiss as a man would give a woman who had a bruised lip. I pulled him back and kissed him so long and hard that it brought a smile of amusement to his face.
“I get the message,” he said, laughing, and kissed me again, this time running his lips down my neck and then lifting me to carry me to his bed. I lay there unmoving, watching him undress before he crawled in beside me and started to undress me as well. Neither of us spoke, me worried that I would somehow cause him to lose his passion and desire and him afraid, I’m sure, that he would say something that would stir up my painful memories again. Silence was our best ally right now, and we both knew it.
His kisses and his caresses, our embraces and unrestrained hunger for each other, said it all anyway. Neither of us seemed to think or care about any consequences. There was a rhythm and flow to our lovemaking that forebade the slightest interruption or hesitation. We were almost like two people in a panic, afraid that if we paused, we would be lost to some disaster. Instinct and raw passion seized us. All the while, I kept
chanting to myself that this was going to end any doubt, any fear I had about being incapable of loving and making love. I was not ruined after all. I had just as promising a future as any girl my age.
My moans and cries at the right moments gave him more confidence and satisfaction. At one point, he pressed his hands to the bed and lifted himself so he could look down at me and study everything in my face, the hot crimson in my cheeks, the excitement in my eyes, and the wetness on my lips. He dropped his gaze to my breasts and my stomach, and I saw the pleasure in his face. It was as if he were an artist, not a lover, and he had become Pygmalion, the mythological Greek sculptor who fell in love with his own statue. His slight intermission seemed to give him even more sexual energy. We went on until, exhausted and satisfied, we lay beside each other listening to the pounding of our hearts and our wonderful gasps.
“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.”
I snuggled beside him and pressed my cheek to his chest. I could hear his heartbeat slowly normalizing and felt his lips on my forehead. Neither of us spoke. Sleep was like a warm blanket draped over us. When I woke, he was still there beside me, looking into my eyes. We kissed and made love again. Then I hurried out and to my room, at least to make it seem as if I had slept there. I was too embarrassed to face Mrs. Dobson at breakfast with her knowing that I had spent the evening in Ethan’s bed. I had no fear of her saying anything or even indicating to me that she knew, but it was enough that I would know she knew.
Ethan got his wish that morning, too. Before we went to breakfast, he insisted we take a dip in the pool. We hurried down and out in our bathing suits and really woke up in the water, splashing each other playfully and then just floating about with me in his arms and my lips just as passionate and demanding of his as his were of mine. Afterward, I had Mrs. Dobson serve us breakfast on the patio so we could remain in our bathing suits and robes. It was turning out to be a perfect day, with just a wisp of a cloud here and there and the breeze a warm caress. The air was perfumed with flowers and freshly cut grass. Ethan sat back and looked at it all with such pleasure in his face he made me see it as if for the first time, too. I told him so, and he smiled.