"You're the
strength, the steel spine of this family. You always
will be," he added with a nod. It was as if he had
declared me heir to his throne, whether I wanted it or
not.
It was who I was to be.
I fell asleep dreaming about that sleeping bag
we had left empty on the beach.
3
A Wolf in
Sheep's Clothing
.
For a while I thought Belinda wouldn't attend
the finishing school or that Daddy would give in to her and postpone it until the fall. A few times, he tottered on the brink of caving in to her pleas. She tried desperately to get him to do so, moaning and groaning about not having the summer free to enjoy with her friends.
When Daddy vacillated, I helped prop him up again.
"You know she needs it more than ever, Daddy. It was your good idea. Don't let her pull the wool over your eyes. She'll be more than a handful for all of us if she has nothing whatsoever to do with her time," I reminded him. He pressed his lips together and held tight, but Belinda didn't give up.
"Who goes to school in the summer? Only people who have failed classes. I didn't fail any classes," she wailed, choosing to make our dinner hour as unpleasant as she could every night until she got her way.
"It won't be like going to school, Belinda," Mother told her. "It's a special school with beautiful grounds and dormitories, isn't it, Olivia?"
"Yes," I said, "with the finest facilities and some of the best teachers."
"It's still a school. I still have to be in stuffy classrooms while the sun is out and my friends are sailing and having fun back here, don't I?" Belinda moaned. She pouted, refused to eat, stomped about the house, sulked and made everyone else miserable as her day of departure closed in on her.
All during the week before she left, Belinda insisted on having her boyfriends and girlfriends come to the house and bid her good-bye as though she were off to war and they all might not see her ever again. Every time someone left, she was in tears.
"No one will write me or call. They all say they will, but they won't. They'll forget me quickly," she complained through her sobs.
"If that happens, that will show you they weren't very good friends anyway," I told her.
"That's right: Mother echoed.
"Oh . . . poop!" she cried, her face red with frustration, and ran up to her room.
Actually, I enjoyed her last minute antics, enjoyed her stream of complaints, her sobbing and sulking. From my expression, she saw she could find no sympathy in me, and no matter what she said to Mother, no matter what disaster she predicted, Mother found a silver lining.
"You'll meet new people, make new friends, see interesting new things, learn so much. What an opportunity for you, Belinda, dear. I wish I was young and going off to finishing school, too."
"And I wish I was old and past all this," she fired back with the tears flying off her cheeks.
That made me laugh: Belinda wishing herself old. "You don't know what being old is," I told her. "As soon as you see the first wrinkle on your face, you'll threaten to commit suicide."
"I will not. You're being dreadful to me, Olivia. You'll miss me when I'm gone," she threatened, which only made me laugh harder and make her sulk more.
Finally, the day of her departure arrived. She did little to make herself ready. Carmelita had to pack everything with Mother's supervision. She wouldn't even pack her own toiletries. We were all supposed to go up with her in the limousine, but I managed to get out of the trip. Daddy was disappointed. No one could handle Belinda in our family as well as I could; however, I was determined not to sit in a car for hours and hear her whine about how cruel we were all being to her.
She put on an award performance when Daddy told her to come out and get in the car. She stood on the walkway and looked back at me, her eyes filled with tears.
"Good-bye, Olivia," she said with her hands clutched at her heart. "Good-bye house. Good-bye good times and childhood and being young and having fun. They're turning me
strength, the steel spine of this family. You always
will be," he added with a nod. It was as if he had
declared me heir to his throne, whether I wanted it or
not.
It was who I was to be.
I fell asleep dreaming about that sleeping bag
we had left empty on the beach.
3
A Wolf in
Sheep's Clothing
.
For a while I thought Belinda wouldn't attend
the finishing school or that Daddy would give in to her and postpone it until the fall. A few times, he tottered on the brink of caving in to her pleas. She tried desperately to get him to do so, moaning and groaning about not having the summer free to enjoy with her friends.
When Daddy vacillated, I helped prop him up again.
"You know she needs it more than ever, Daddy. It was your good idea. Don't let her pull the wool over your eyes. She'll be more than a handful for all of us if she has nothing whatsoever to do with her time," I reminded him. He pressed his lips together and held tight, but Belinda didn't give up.
"Who goes to school in the summer? Only people who have failed classes. I didn't fail any classes," she wailed, choosing to make our dinner hour as unpleasant as she could every night until she got her way.
"It won't be like going to school, Belinda," Mother told her. "It's a special school with beautiful grounds and dormitories, isn't it, Olivia?"
"Yes," I said, "with the finest facilities and some of the best teachers."
"It's still a school. I still have to be in stuffy classrooms while the sun is out and my friends are sailing and having fun back here, don't I?" Belinda moaned. She pouted, refused to eat, stomped about the house, sulked and made everyone else miserable as her day of departure closed in on her.
All during the week before she left, Belinda insisted on having her boyfriends and girlfriends come to the house and bid her good-bye as though she were off to war and they all might not see her ever again. Every time someone left, she was in tears.
"No one will write me or call. They all say they will, but they won't. They'll forget me quickly," she complained through her sobs.
"If that happens, that will show you they weren't very good friends anyway," I told her.
"That's right: Mother echoed.
"Oh . . . poop!" she cried, her face red with frustration, and ran up to her room.
Actually, I enjoyed her last minute antics, enjoyed her stream of complaints, her sobbing and sulking. From my expression, she saw she could find no sympathy in me, and no matter what she said to Mother, no matter what disaster she predicted, Mother found a silver lining.
"You'll meet new people, make new friends, see interesting new things, learn so much. What an opportunity for you, Belinda, dear. I wish I was young and going off to finishing school, too."
"And I wish I was old and past all this," she fired back with the tears flying off her cheeks.
That made me laugh: Belinda wishing herself old. "You don't know what being old is," I told her. "As soon as you see the first wrinkle on your face, you'll threaten to commit suicide."
"I will not. You're being dreadful to me, Olivia. You'll miss me when I'm gone," she threatened, which only made me laugh harder and make her sulk more.
Finally, the day of her departure arrived. She did little to make herself ready. Carmelita had to pack everything with Mother's supervision. She wouldn't even pack her own toiletries. We were all supposed to go up with her in the limousine, but I managed to get out of the trip. Daddy was disappointed. No one could handle Belinda in our family as well as I could; however, I was determined not to sit in a car for hours and hear her whine about how cruel we were all being to her.
She put on an award performance when Daddy told her to come out and get in the car. She stood on the walkway and looked back at me, her eyes filled with tears.
"Good-bye, Olivia," she said with her hands clutched at her heart. "Good-bye house. Good-bye good times and childhood and being young and having fun. They're turning me
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