Susannah laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Mom, will you and Dad?”
My mother laughed too. “I don’t know. Probably not. Your father doesn’t like to dance.”
“Dad’s boring,” I said, trying to twist around and get a peek at my new look. Gently, Susannah put her hands on my shoulders and sat me straight.
“He’s not boring,” my mother said. “He just has different interests. You like it when he teaches you the constellations, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“And he’s very patient, and he always listens to your stories,” my mother reminded me.
“True. But what does that have to do with being boring?”
“Not much, I suppose. But it has to do with being a good father, which I think he is.”
“He definitely is,” Susannah agreed, and she and my mother exchanged a look over my head. “Take a look at yourself.”
I swiveled around and looked in the mirror. My eyes were very smoky and gray and mysterious. I felt like I should be the one going out dancing.
“See, she doesn’t look like a hooker,” Susannah said triumphantly.
“She looks like she has a black eye,” my mother said.
“No, I don’t. I look mysterious. I look like a countess.” I hopped off the bathroom counter. “Thanks, Susannah.”
“Anytime, sugar.”
We air-kissed like two ladies who lunch. Then she took me by the hand and walked me over to her bureau. She handed me her jewelry box and said, “Belly, you have the best taste. Will you help me pick out some jewelry to wear tonight?”
I sat on her bed with the wooden box and sifted through it carefully. I found what I was looking for—her dangly opal earrings with the matching opal ring. “Wearthese,” I said, holding the jewelry out to her in the palm of my hand.
Susannah obeyed, and as she fastened the earrings, my mother said, “I don’t know if that really goes.”
In retrospect, I don’t think it really did go. But I loved that opal jewelry so much. I admired it more than anything. So I said, “Mom, what do you know about style?”
Right away, I worried she’d be mad, but it had slipped out, and it was true after all. My mother knew about as much about jewelry as she did about makeup.
But Susannah laughed, and so did my mother.
“Go downstairs and tell the men we’ll be ready to go in five, Countess,” my mother ordered.
I jumped out of bed and curtsied dramatically. “Yes, Mum.”
They both laughed. My mother said, “Go, you little imp.”
I ran downstairs. When I was a kid, anytime I had to go anywhere, I ran. “They’re almost ready,” I yelled.
Mr. Fisher was showing my dad his new fishing rod. My dad looked relieved to see me, and he said, “Belly, what have they done to you?”
“Susannah made me up. Do you like it?”
My dad beckoned me closer, regarding me with serious eyes. “I’m not sure. You look very mature.”
“I do?”
“Yes, very, very mature.”
