by Andrew Grey
“Oh God,” I whimpered and continued counting. This time I kept going, even when I made mistakes, and I finally felt as though some of the steps were flowing from my brain to my feet without me thinking about every single move I made. I figured that was a win in itself.
“What are you doing?” Mom asked from the back door.
“Teaching Florian to dance,” Ella answered without stopping. “It’s about time he learned.”
“Jeremy is an excellent dancer,” Mom said, as though either of us cared at the moment. The song ended and we came to a stop. “Why are you doing this all of a sudden?” She was clearly skeptical.
The song ended and we came to a stop. I looked over at her. “I’ve been helping her with her homework, so she said she’d help me with dancing. You remember last year when we went to Cal’s wedding and I sat at the table all night? I thought it would be good to not trip over my feet.”
No invitation had come for Beau’s party. Mom had no reason to suspect that I had one, and I’d purposely said no more about it. Basically I let her think I’d forgotten about it, and that was fine. She would see Ella and me there, but that would be too late for her to do anything. Not that I really cared if Mom saw me, but she had a thing about Ella.
“Whatever,” she said, then went back inside. I watched her go, and Ella sighed.
“I don’t know why she hates me so much,” Ella said, and I hugged her. I wasn’t going to make any excuses for my mother. I had to admit that there were times when she was downright mean. “If she knew I wanted to go to this party, she’d come up with a million reasons for me to stay home.”
“I know.” Ella didn’t always understand everything that was going on around her, and she didn’t catch on to things very quickly. Sometimes kids would pick on her at school, or if they saw her out, call her names or play tricks on her, and Mom would get embarrassed and blame Ella rather than the bullies. Mom had no patience for her, but that’s what Ella needed most.
“I want to leave,” Ella said, and I held her a little tighter. That was an emotion I understood very well too. “But I need a job and I need to finish school.”
“Yes. After that, we’ll figure something out.” She needed an atmosphere that would be supportive, not rip her apart and treat her like a servant. “Just get through school and get the diploma. Then we can work on finding you a job and building a future.” I tilted my head in thought. “Maybe you can go to a school where you can learn a trade… or maybe you can teach people to dance.” That earned me a smile. “You’re very good at it, and if you can teach me, you can teach anyone.”
“You think so?” Her expression brightened.
“Yes. You’re very good. Maybe you could go to a dance school.” I’d have to look into that for her. Isabella might be my stepsister, but I was beginning to understand that it was time I started acting like her older, full brother. She didn’t deserve how my mother and brother treated her, and like I’d told Dieter, I’d been guilty for so long of just keeping quiet. I had realized that needed to end. “We’ll look into it after you graduate, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s you and me go get something to eat.”
“Something that isn’t one of Mom’s awful casseroles?” She looked hopeful.
I laughed. “God, yes. Those things are terrible.” We walked around the side of the house to my car and headed into town.
WE WERE careful after that. Ella worked with me in my room with the music on low, and we were quiet, using the excuse that I was helping her with her homework. I was never going to be a wonderful dancer, but I understood enough now that I wasn’t going to be a hazard on the dance floor. And I was actually starting to look forward to the party.
“What costumes are we going to wear?” Ella asked on Friday afternoon. I shrugged, since I hadn’t given it a second thought. She led me to her room. “Good thing I thought about it. You can be a knight, and I will be a princess.” She measured me up and grabbed her sewing materials. “I made mine already. You need a white shirt, and I’m going to have to make you some rough-looking pants. The rest I can do.”
“Okay. Are you going to have time?”
She rolled her eyes in typical teenage fashion and got to work with patterns and fabric.
“You need to fix this,” Mom demanded, shoving her costume at Ella just as soon as we came out of her room an hour later. “I decided to wear this blouse with it and it’s too tight now.”
“That’s because this is too bulky. You need to wear the shirt you tried it on with,” Ella said gently.
“But I want to wear this one now. What else do you have to do?” she asked, as though Ella hadn’t already altered her outfit for her.
“Mom, she was nice enough to make that for you, and you’ll need to wear the other blouse. Stop being selfish.” I put my hands on my hips. This sort of shit needed to stop. I took the costume and handed it back to Mom. “You’re….” I turned to Ella. “Let me talk to her.” Ella went back into her room and closed the door. I motioned toward Mom’s room. I didn’t think she was going to go at first, but eventually she turned and stalked into the room.
“Sometimes that girl….”
“She’s eighteen, and you’re an adult. This demanding things and selfishness needs to stop. It’s getting out of control, and you’re sulking all the time. When was the last time you went to the doctor? Because things are getting worse. None of us ever knows what you’re going to be like. Some days you’re nice and others you’re cruel. Sometimes you sit in front of the television for days and do nothing at all. You need to go see what’s wrong.”
“No,” she snapped. “I’m perfectly fine. If you kids would just do something around here….”
“We do it all, Mother. We work and still do almost everything here. You’re not some queen who gets to order everyone about.”
“This is my house, and….”
“I don’t think so,” I countered. “I have someone looking into that, but I doubt this house is yours. It was Ella’s father’s house, which he owned before you were married, and I checked at the registrar’s office. He didn’t put your name on it, and as soon as I get a copy of his will, I’ll know who he left it to, but I’m pretty sure it’s Ella’s and not yours. He’d take care of her.”
“She isn’t capable of taking care of herself, let alone a house or….” Mom went off on a rant that made little sense to anyone but her. As usual, it had tons of circular logic, all of it designed to justify her own erratic behavior. “I’ve done everything for her since—”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve had her do your dishes and clean the house, but you haven’t done anything for her. Ella needs patience, not snapping and cruelty.” I turned to leave, but paused. “To her you are the evil stepmother.” I left, closing the door behind me. I loved my mother, I really did, but I didn’t really like her. She was getting out of control. Something had to be done.
MOM WAS in a good mood the following day. She was all excited about the party, and as soon as she and Jeremy left, Ella and I dressed in our costumes and I drove us to the Bartholomew mansion. Valets parked the cars, and Ella and I walked up the drive lined with lights sparkling in the night. Others did the same, all in costume and wearing masks, the same as she and I were.
At the door, Roberts was decked out in a tuxedo, playing the part of the stiff English butler. “Welcome, my lords and ladies,” he said, and I tried not to snicker.
We passed through the house, following the music to the ballroom, which glowed with flickering gold candles and crystal chandeliers. The glass doors on the other side of the room were open, leading to a tent that continued the party outside.
Ella grabbed my arm tightly, pointing as a man about her age came in from the tent. “That’s Weston Marshall.”
“I take it you like him,” I said softly, and Ella nodded. “Is he in your class?”
“He’s a junior, but he’s in summer school too, and….”
I was afraid her
nails were going to rip my shirt to shreds. “Once the music starts a little later, you can dance with him. That’s the beauty of things like this—you get to dance with as many people as you like.” I looked past Weston to Dieter. He was dressed formally, with a sash and orders of chivalry. He also wore a mask, but the radiant blond hair was impossible to disguise.
“Don’t I have to dance with you?” Ella asked.
I leaned closely enough only she could hear. “I’m hoping to dance with the man of my dreams too.”
She giggled and followed my gaze. “I see.”
“Go get something to drink, but be careful,” I cautioned her, and she glided away. Her pink, broad-skirted dress was stunning, and Ella looked radiant. The growing crush of people parted for her as she neared, and Ella glided by like the princess she was.
“Sir Florian,” Dieter said as he approached.
I smiled, bowing slightly. “My liege,” I said with equal formality, and then we both smiled, breaking character.
“I was looking for you.” Dieter took my hand, and I looked around for a reaction, but no one seemed to notice. “Your mother and brother arrived a while ago. They’re out in the tent. The last time I saw them, your mother was talking to Dante. It seems she is putting on the full-court press to get Jeremy a promotion.”
“I’d better go rescue Dante from a fate worse than death: my mother when she wants something. Please watch for Ella and tell her where I am. She’s in the pink princess dress.” I clasped him on the shoulder, and we shared a glance that lasted long enough to have me sweating a little. Then I hurried out to the tent.
It didn’t take me long to spot Dante in a stylized lion costume, complete with an amazing mask. Of course, my mother stood with him, and I could see Dante glancing around.
“Dante,” I said as I made my way over. “Beau was just saying he was looking for you.” I shared a smile with him as my mother turned to me. “Hey, Mom, I didn’t see you.”
“I need to go find him,” Dante said. “Excuse me.” He hurried away toward the ballroom.
“What are you doing here?” Mom asked without any kind of joy. “I didn’t know you got an invitation.”
“It came at work,” I explained as though that were normal and I hadn’t tried to hide the invitation.
Mom looked around. “Who did you come with?” Her smile faded a little as Dieter entered the tent with Ella on his arm and brought her over. “Ella… that’s….” She narrowed her eyes, and I hoped today was a day where she didn’t say the first thing that came to mind.
“It’s a wonderful costume that she made herself,” I said with a smile.
Ella’s lips lifted nervously, and she sipped from the cup she carried.
“You know…,” Mom began, and I glared at her, just knowing she was going to say something unpleasant.
“Why don’t we see what they have to eat and maybe get a snack? Would you take Ella and I’ll meet you in there?”
Dieter nodded and was kind enough to escort her out.
I turned back to my mother. “You be nice tonight. Any cracks or nastiness and I will ask that you be removed. The man with Ella is apparently the guest of honor this evening.” I made eye contact and didn’t look away until she did. I needed to silently press my point. “Have a nice evening, Mother.” I followed where Dieter and Ella had gone, finding Dieter just inside the ballroom. Ella was on the other side talking to Weston, smiling, and looking radiant.
“Did you handle things?” Dieter asked.
“I think so.” I moved closer, and Dieter put an arm around my waist. It was nice being held that way.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention for just a moment?” Dante said from a small stage, and I was glad we were out of the way as everyone filed into the ballroom, filling it with nearly two hundred people. “Tonight, we are celebrating! The Bartholomew Porcelain Studio recently entered a competition in Europe and was awarded a gold medal by the European Porcelain Arts Council for our efforts to bring true artistry to our work. And when they awarded the medal, the Society singled out the work of our very own Florian Cinderson as a major reason for the honor. He is here with us tonight, so I’m going to ask him to join me up here.”
I swallowed hard, and Dieter nudged me forward. The room erupted into applause as I made my way to stand next to Dante, blushing embarrassingly. “Thank you,” I said quietly, a sea of faces staring at me.
“Also, we have with us a representative of the Society to present the medals. Count Dieter von Hollenbach.”
I swallowed as Dieter made his way upward, a number of things clicking in my mind. First, that Dieter was a count, and second, that the “costume” he was wearing wasn’t a costume at all. They were actual medals and decorations that either he or his family had received over the generations. Dieter stood next to me, and I grew more nervous by the second. Then his arm slid around my waist once again, in front of my mother, brother, Ella, and everyone. I stilled and waited, half expecting the floor to swallow me up.
“I want to thank Dante for inviting me, and it is my pleasure to present him and the Bartholomew Studio our Gold Medal of Excellence.” Dieter turned and picked up a case from the table behind him, then opened it and held it up for all to see the medal it contained. “The Bartholomew Studio is comprised of many talented artists, and they do incredible work of a quality that is very rare at this time. We are thrilled to be able to present the medal this year. This is the first time in three years that the Society has awarded the medal, so we are extra pleased to be able to do so.”
Dieter handed Dante the case, and I moved off to the side, happy to be able to step down. Dieter turned to me, gently stopping me by placing his hand on my arm.
“Is there more?”
Dieter smiled. “The Society is also pleased to honor Florian Cinderson as our Artist of the Year.”
I nearly fell off the stage. I looked to Dante for confirmation, and he nodded, smiling even wider.
“Your work capturing the nature and beauty of this area on porcelain is what we all look for. The pieces are unique, enchanting, and stunningly beautiful.” Dieter took a case that Beau handed him, opened it, removed a gold medal on a ribbon, and placed it over my head.
Everyone applauded again, and I stepped back with Dieter, who took my hand, as Beau took over.
“We have a number of items in a silent auction to benefit the Community Center, including several pieces designed and painted by Florian, as well as an amazing modern work donated by Count Dieter, and I’m surprised and delighted to say that the figure looks a lot like my husband here.” Beau shared a wicked grin with Dante. “There are also a number of studies done by other artists at the studio. These are unique, one-of-a-kind pieces in special Bartholomew Porcelain frames. So please be generous.” Beau stepped down, and people milled about.
“Can I see the award?” Ella asked, and I took it off and handed it to her. “It’s pretty.”
“You deserve it,” Dieter whispered from behind me. “Your work is extraordinary.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked as I turned around.
“We all decided we wanted it to be a surprise. Dante figured if you knew, you might not show up at the party.”
I wondered how he had known and how well Dante knew me… considering we hadn’t spent that much time together. But he was probably right. I would have preferred to have received the award privately instead of in front of a bunch of people, all staring at me.
“Sweetheart,” Mom said, cutting through the crowd to get to me. She hugged me tightly. “I’m so proud of you.” She was making a huge show for some reason.
“Thanks, Mom.” I hugged her back, and once she stepped away, I turned. “This is Dieter. You saw him already. He and I have been seeing each other for the past few weeks.” I hoped Dieter didn’t mind me telling my mother. Of course, she beamed and half simpered, bowing or something and making a huge deal of calling Dieter “Count.”
“It’s nic
e to meet you properly,” Dieter said with a plastered-on smile, taking her hand. Ella handed me back the award, and Dieter helped me put it on once again. “The Society originally began with a warrant and sanction from a number of royal families. So these are very precious and, like the other medal, aren’t given out every year.” Dieter took my hand. “I’m so pleased for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “Have you seen the auction items?” I asked him and Ella.
“Weston showed them to me.” Ella blushed as a young man appeared and escorted her away.
Mother glared at her as she left, muttering something under her breath about Ella getting in trouble. I hit her with another stare before moving away.
“My goodness,” Dieter said.
“I know. You’ve had your annual dose of simpering and it only took ten seconds.” I turned as Mother headed toward the bar. I hoped she didn’t overdo it or she’d really make a fool of herself.
Dieter chuckled and moved out to the hall where the items had been set up. “I love your work,” he said, stopping at the framed study that I’d contributed. I widened my eyes at the four-figure bid he wrote down, and then we continued on.
There was nothing that interested me until we got to the end of the table, and I stopped, nearly tripping at the painting sitting on an easel there.
“This is the piece I donated. I bought it through an online gallery because I loved the piece and the subject looked like Dante.” Dieter smiled, while my stomach did flips and I thought I was going to lose what I’d eaten earlier in the day. Only willpower kept me upright and appearing as normal as possible.
It looked like Dante because it was Dante. Well, what my twenty-one-year-old imagination had thought Dante might look like from the back with no clothes on. I couldn’t believe it was here. I leaned forward, pretending to examine the painting but really trying to give myself a few seconds to get my shit together. What would Dieter say or how would he react if he knew that was my work?