I stared at them, open-mouthed, as my blood pressure began to rise. I could almost hear it, like the faint whistle of a teakettle just coming to boil. So that was Bill’s game, was it? I understood it all now: the irises, the star show, his father’s books—the whole nine yards. Prince Charming bestows gifts on the wide-eyed beggar girl, dazzles her with his castle, then sweeps her off her feet with… Had he picked out new underwear, too?
The pent-up emotions of the past twenty-four hours fueled my indignation. Who was he to tell me what to wear? Willis, Sr., might know a thing or two about tailoring, but Bill looked as though he slept in his clothes. I looked upon those lovely dresses and thought only of the audacity, the gall, the sheer, unmitigated… Did he expect me to be grateful? I had never been so embarrassed in my life, and I was seriously annoyed with him for causing my humiliation.
A muffled knock sounded at the parlor door and when I opened it I found the object of my wrath standing there with frayed cuffs and bagged-out trousers, compounding his sins by looking extremely pleased with himself.
“How dare you,” I snapped.
The smug look vanished.
“Come in,” I said, “and sit down. There are a few things we need to get straight.”
Bill sat on the edge of the couch and watched as I paced the room. In a small voice, he ventured, “You don’t like the clothes?”
“Oh, they’re beautiful,” I said. “Just beautiful. I’m all set for the Governor’s Ball.” I closed in on him. “Bill. I don’t go to the Governor’s Ball. Where am I supposed to wear that stuff? To the grocery?”
“Well, I—” but he never had a chance. My wounded pride was on a rampage.
“But you wouldn’t know about places like that,” I said. “You have servants. Well, let me fill you in. The grocery is the place where you go when you have enough money to buy maybe three cans of tomato soup, right? It’s the place where the express register is always just closing when you get there, so you and your tomato soup wind up in the regular checkout line, where you’re invariably stuck behind the illiterate lady with the coupons for things that are almost the same as the things she has in her cart. And you have to stand there juggling soup cans while she argues every ounce, pound, liter, and gram, and you don’t want to be rude, because she has blue hair and she’s probably living on dog food, but you also want to scream, because you’d think that just once she could manage to bring a coupon for the right brand of dog food. Heaven knows it’s important to wear the proper dress for moments like that. That blue silk number in the back should be just right.” When I paused to catch my breath, Bill made a brave attempt to rally.
“Now, Lori, I just thought that, when you went out, you might—”
“Go out? Like on dates? What makes you think I have time to go out on dates?” I took another deep breath and added, very evenly, “Thank you very much for your thoughtful gifts, but I’m afraid they don’t suit my life-style.” I strode to the door, then turned. “I’m going down to speak with your father. When I’ve gone, I’d be most grateful if you’d return everything to the shops. If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Willis, I’d prefer to select my own wardrobe.”
*
Willis, Sr., smiled at me from behind his desk as I entered the office, but his smile faded when he saw the look on my face.
“My dear Miss Shepherd,” he said in alarm, “whatever is the matter?”
I closed the doors and strode restlessly over to the billowing fern in the corner. I plucked a small brown frond and crumbled it absently between my fingers. Keeping my back to the desk, I asked, “Do I look awful, Mr. Willis?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Do I look like… like a wreck?”
“Miss Shepherd, I would never presume to—”
“I know,” I said, holding perfectly still. “That’s why I’m asking you.”
When he failed to respond, I snuck a peek over my shoulder, then looked quickly back at the fern. His pained expression made me want to sink through the floor, but his voice was gentle when he began to speak.
“I would not put it quite that way, Miss Shepherd,” he said. “I would say rather that you appear to have lived under a great deal of stress, and to have known too little joy as of late.”
“That bad, huh?” Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them away.
“You misunderstand me, Miss Shepherd,” said Willis, Sr. “Please allow me to make myself clear. My dear, to my eyes, you are lovely. Fatigued, yes, and under some strain, certainly, but quite charming nonetheless.” He rose from his chair. “Please, Miss Shepherd, come and sit down.” He gestured for me to join him on the couch, where he leaned back, tented his fingers, and stared silently at me for a few moments before going on. I kept my gaze fixed on his immaculate gray waistcoat.
“Miss Shepherd, I realize how unusual this experience must be for you. You have had quite a lot thrown at you in a very short period of time. You are no doubt feeling slightly overwhelmed by it all.”
“Slightly,” I agreed.