cabinet that spanned from
floor to ceiling, full of big, fluffy towels. Weston checked to make sure there
was soap and shampoo.
“We can pick up anything else you need from Gina’s tomorrow, if
you want.”
I dipped my head in agreement.
He led me back into the bedroom, and pulled back the comforter. “Clean
sheets.” He opened the closet. “Clothes and lots of ’em.” He pulled open a
dresser drawer. “Night gowns and pajama sets. Some of them silk, because
Whitney’s a huge diva. Just leave your laundry in that hamper and Lila will
launder them in the morning when she gets here. I’m pretty sure Whitney still
has makeup and ponytail holders and stuff in the drawers by the sink.”
“She does,” Veronica said, breezing through the door. She handed
me a new toothbrush, a full tube of toothpaste, and a brand new stick of
deodorant. “Peter is always saying I overstock. You have won a twenty-year-long
argument for me tonight, little miss.”
“I wish I could think of a way to say thank you. I’m sorry I …”
“Nonsense,” Veronica said, holding the knob while she hovered in
the doorway. “We’re going to get this all worked out. You try to rest. See you
in the morning. Wes?”
Weston leaned over and gave me a peck, and then followed his
mother out. I walked into the spacious, sparkling white bathroom and undressed
in front of the mirror. I took a long, hot shower, trying every brand name
shampoo, conditioning treatment, and foaming face wash I could get my hands on.
By the time I stepped out, I smelled like a salon, and my skin shone like the
marble tile. I felt like Julia Roberts’s character in Pretty Woman .
I wrapped myself in one of the fluffy towels and combed out my
hair, noticing how close it was to Julianne’s color. I found a nightgown and
slipped it over my head, then climbed into the queen-sized bed. The springs
didn’t squeak when I laid on it. I wasn’t even sure Whitney’s bed had springs.
It felt like one big foam-filled cushion. I rested my head on the pillow, stretching
my legs as far as they would go. They didn’t even come close to the end of the
bed. My body sank down into the mattress, and the plush comforter cradled me in
softness.
I turned on my side and leaned over, switching off the lamp.
Before I could settle back under the blankets, the door opened, and Weston
crept inside.
“Are you sleeping?” he whispered.
“No.”
He knelt beside the bed. “Are you comfortable?”
“More than I’ve ever been.”
“Do you need anything else before I hit the sack?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know if I can sleep knowing you’re right down the hall.”
I smiled. “Try.”
He chuckled and leaned down, giving me a better kiss than he could
when his mother was still around. He walked to the door and turned around. “You’re
going to be okay. This is just one more thing we’ll get through together.”
“I know.” It should have been scarier, being eighteen and finding
out that the woman who raised me wasn’t my mother. But at the moment, I felt
like I had a small army in my corner.
~*~
The next morning when I walked into school, it was like
I was walking into a different dimension. Everyone stared at me like before,
but now it was out of curiosity. In first period, Brady glanced over at me a
few times, but the disgust was gone from his eyes. Even the teachers looked at
me differently. It was like I left the day before as one person, and came back
as someone else.
No one, not even Brady, called me Easter. If they addressed me,
they called me Erin. For the first time in nine years, no one said a single
negative word to me or even shot me a dirty look. I still expected it, waiting
for someone, anyone to taunt me, but it never happened; not once all day. The
rest of the week went that way, too, and by Friday, the tension I felt every
time I walked into a classroom was gone, and I no longer waited for someone to
throw insults or wads of paper at me. My
floor to ceiling, full of big, fluffy towels. Weston checked to make sure there
was soap and shampoo.
“We can pick up anything else you need from Gina’s tomorrow, if
you want.”
I dipped my head in agreement.
He led me back into the bedroom, and pulled back the comforter. “Clean
sheets.” He opened the closet. “Clothes and lots of ’em.” He pulled open a
dresser drawer. “Night gowns and pajama sets. Some of them silk, because
Whitney’s a huge diva. Just leave your laundry in that hamper and Lila will
launder them in the morning when she gets here. I’m pretty sure Whitney still
has makeup and ponytail holders and stuff in the drawers by the sink.”
“She does,” Veronica said, breezing through the door. She handed
me a new toothbrush, a full tube of toothpaste, and a brand new stick of
deodorant. “Peter is always saying I overstock. You have won a twenty-year-long
argument for me tonight, little miss.”
“I wish I could think of a way to say thank you. I’m sorry I …”
“Nonsense,” Veronica said, holding the knob while she hovered in
the doorway. “We’re going to get this all worked out. You try to rest. See you
in the morning. Wes?”
Weston leaned over and gave me a peck, and then followed his
mother out. I walked into the spacious, sparkling white bathroom and undressed
in front of the mirror. I took a long, hot shower, trying every brand name
shampoo, conditioning treatment, and foaming face wash I could get my hands on.
By the time I stepped out, I smelled like a salon, and my skin shone like the
marble tile. I felt like Julia Roberts’s character in Pretty Woman .
I wrapped myself in one of the fluffy towels and combed out my
hair, noticing how close it was to Julianne’s color. I found a nightgown and
slipped it over my head, then climbed into the queen-sized bed. The springs
didn’t squeak when I laid on it. I wasn’t even sure Whitney’s bed had springs.
It felt like one big foam-filled cushion. I rested my head on the pillow, stretching
my legs as far as they would go. They didn’t even come close to the end of the
bed. My body sank down into the mattress, and the plush comforter cradled me in
softness.
I turned on my side and leaned over, switching off the lamp.
Before I could settle back under the blankets, the door opened, and Weston
crept inside.
“Are you sleeping?” he whispered.
“No.”
He knelt beside the bed. “Are you comfortable?”
“More than I’ve ever been.”
“Do you need anything else before I hit the sack?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know if I can sleep knowing you’re right down the hall.”
I smiled. “Try.”
He chuckled and leaned down, giving me a better kiss than he could
when his mother was still around. He walked to the door and turned around. “You’re
going to be okay. This is just one more thing we’ll get through together.”
“I know.” It should have been scarier, being eighteen and finding
out that the woman who raised me wasn’t my mother. But at the moment, I felt
like I had a small army in my corner.
~*~
The next morning when I walked into school, it was like
I was walking into a different dimension. Everyone stared at me like before,
but now it was out of curiosity. In first period, Brady glanced over at me a
few times, but the disgust was gone from his eyes. Even the teachers looked at
me differently. It was like I left the day before as one person, and came back
as someone else.
No one, not even Brady, called me Easter. If they addressed me,
they called me Erin. For the first time in nine years, no one said a single
negative word to me or even shot me a dirty look. I still expected it, waiting
for someone, anyone to taunt me, but it never happened; not once all day. The
rest of the week went that way, too, and by Friday, the tension I felt every
time I walked into a classroom was gone, and I no longer waited for someone to
throw insults or wads of paper at me. My
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