Chapter 43
THEN
My mother always said my father could silence a room just by entering it.
There was no question it was true. But my mother said it as though it were a magical power, which wasn’t true.
Anyone could silence a room by using fear and intimidation.
It was a weak trick of the unskilled, or for those who lacked charm.
But I didn’t figure that out until years later.
The day he appeared in the doorway after Daphne had given me a makeover, he certainly stunned us into silence.
Looming over us in the doorway, my father looked even taller than his six-foot-four stature—tall enough that his head almost touched the top of the doorframe.
He’d only been gone a couple of months, and yet it felt like I was looking at a stranger.
As far as I was concerned, he belonged in a different world—the world before Mum died.
He took a few steps into the bedroom and put down his suitcase. “You haven’t answered my question, Mabel. What the hell is going on?”
“I … I …”
“I … I … I.” Dad adopted a childlike voice in an attempt to impersonate me. “I look like a tramp?”
My father had always taken every opportunity to make me feel stupid or small. And yet, the petty cruelty of this stunned me to the verge of tears.
Daphne stared at Dad with such pure and utter contempt that for a moment my fear of my father was trumped by fear that Daphne might attack him. I was considering standing between them when Cess’s voice floated up the stairs. “Elliott? Is that you?”
As she appeared behind my father, I felt my heart rate start to slow. Cess did a double take as she took in my makeover, then turned her attention to Dad. “It is you. When did you get here?”
She sounded uncharacteristically warm, which had the effect of disarming my father for a second.
I saw him notice her, and I registered something vaguely inappropriate about it.
She was wearing fitted red and black check capri pants with a gauzy white silk blouse.
I’d once heard my father comment to my mother that Cess’s clothes were inviting scandal, but as he contemplated her, he seemed nothing but appreciative.
“A minute ago,” he said, before gesturing toward Daphne and me. “And look what I find in my bedroom!”
Cess didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, I gave her full permission to spend time in here among her mother’s things. It’s good for her, while she’s grieving. I knew you wouldn’t have a problem with it.”
My father scoffed. “Making herself over like a common whore? Actually, I do have a problem with it.”
“For heaven’s sake, Elliott, little girls have played dress-up since the beginning of time, you know that. Mary and I used to do it! In any case, if you want to blame anyone, blame me, not the child.”
My father didn’t respond to this; he was distracted by Ness, who by this time had come to investigate what was going on. “I wondered where everyone was,” she exclaimed.
My father acted as though aliens had entered the room. “Will anyone else be coming into my bedroom? The postman, perhaps?”
“You know my friend Vanessa, Elliott,” Cess said. “She’s been helping me take care of Mabel while you were away.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes,” Cess said. “It’s no small job, caring for a child who is recovering from an injury and has just lost her mother.”
My father glanced from Cess to Ness and back again. His body had become eerily, utterly still. Cess’s tone, I noticed, had become icy. Something had happened, I sensed. It felt like another conversation was being had, one I didn’t totally understand.
Finally, my father spoke. “You’re right,” he said. “It is a big job, caring for a child. Too big for you to handle. But I’m back now, so there’ll be no need for either of you.”
I felt the blood leave my body.
“That’s all,” my father said, dismissing her. To me he said, “Clean up this mess, Mabel, and take that stuff off your face.”
He looked at Cess. “I’m leaving. I’ll give you seven days to pack up your things and get out. When I return I don’t want to see any evidence of you.”
With that, he turned and left. Cess started pacing. Ness sagged against the wall.
I stayed exactly where I was, as if stillness could anchor Cess to the house. As if by holding still I could stop everything in my life from changing yet again.