DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story inspired by the novels of VC Andrews. The story idea is mine.
SUMMARY: Summer and Jewel attempt to get used to their new surroundings, and Summer tries to delve deeper into Nick's past.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yeah, this one still lives. Go fig.
CHAPTER 3: SETTLING IN
The next morning Momma went into town to shop for furnishings she would use to decorate the master bedroom. Nick had given her access to his credit card and told her, "Go crazy, Rachael. This drafty old place could use a woman's touch."
While Momma shopped and Nick worked in his office, Jewel and I stayed back to work on our own rooms, unpacking the scant items we'd brought with us from Lynchburg. This would be the first time Jewel and I would not share a room; in fact, my new room was nearly the size of our old trailer. I had my own bathroom, with a beautiful marble sink, and a large shower that looked big enough to hold ten people. The shower too was made of marble, and had a sliding glass door with real gold handles.
I hunched over a cardboard box of clothing, lifting out items and setting them on my bed. A tiny silver charm fell out of the pocket of one of my blouses and I stooped to pick it up.
It was a tiny silver ballet slipper; I curled my hand around it and gave a little sigh before resuming my unpacking.
"Summer, can we go to the tennis courts again?" Jewel poked her head into my room, holding a child-sized tennis racquet. "Nick gave me a tennis racquet! He says that they have teams at the middle school Momma registered me for."
"Sure, just let me finish unpacking," I said, finishing with the box of clothes and moving on to the next one. "I'm almost done."
Jewel sauntered into my room and plopped down on the bed, resting the racquet across her lap. "Do you like it here?" she asked suddenly, after a few minutes of silence.
"It's different," I said, "but not in a bad way. Nick is nice, I guess."
"He's handsome like Daddy was," Jewel said.
I pulled out a series of little porcelain figurines and unwrapped them, discarding the crumpled newspaper I'd wrapped them in. "You don't remember Daddy," I reminded her. "You just remember the pictures Momma showed you, and the stories she told."
"I do remember Daddy," Jewel insisted, and I sighed to myself. It was almost no use arguing with her. Daddy had abandoned us years ago, long before her mind was formed enough to remember such things. It just wasn't possible.
"Okay, Jewel," I said, going to set the figurines on my new dresser. "Whatever you say."
Jewel kicked her feet, knocking her heels against one of the cardboard boxes by my bed. "I dream about Daddy sometimes," she said, turning the racquet in her hands.
"Of course you do." I brushed my hands off on my shorts and turned to Jewel. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah." Jewel stood, tugging her fingers at the racquet's laces. Then she paused and raised her eyes to meet mine. "Why do you think Alex Parker hates us so much?"
"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jewel," I said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading out to the door.
Ms. Parker's son Alex was at the tennis court again, lobbing balls in the air and swinging his racquet at them. Jewel opened the new sports duffel Nick had bought for her and pulled out her own racquet, approaching the boy cautiously.
"Alex?" She held the racquet over her chest as I followed close behind.
Alex dropped a fuzzy yellow tennis ball and it skidded away from him. He shot both Jewel and I hard looks. "What do you want," he asked.
"I was wondering if we could play a match together." Jewel offered him a smile.
"I don't play girls," he snapped.
"I'm good," Jewel said. She paused, tucking a chunk of spun gold blonde hair behind her pierced ear. "I bet I'm better than you."
Alex narrowed his eyes at her, the corners of his mouth hardening. "I don't play girls. Go bother my mother or something. I'm busy."
"Why don't you like us?" Jewel asked. "We didn't ask to move here."
"This place was my home first," Alex fired at both of us. "Nick treated my mom and me like real members of the family until he married your mother. Now we've been moved out to the servants' quarters. It's not fair." He grabbed up all the stray tennis balls and shoved them into his pockets.
"I'm sorry you and your mother had to move out of the home," I said, trying my best to be diplomatic, even though I found Alex to be quite rude and unlikable.
"I don't need your pity." Alex stormed to the chainlink fence and opened the gate, where a shiny red bicycle was waiting, latched to the fence. Alex unlocked the lock, hopped on the bike and pedaled furiously toward Nick's mansion.
Jewel turned her face up at me, her eyes heavy and sad. "I tried."
"I know you did. He's just an unhappy little boy," I said, watching after Alex as he rode off in the distance. "I'll play with you if you want."
"You don't even like tennis," Jewel pointed out.
"Well, we came all this way. We might as well have a game." I picked up Jewel's duffel and pulled out a couple tennis balls.
"You don't even have a racquet," she said.
"I'll use my hands. You'll just be gentle with me," I laughed, and Jewel smiled. I was glad to get a smile out of my poor sensitive sister.
Jewel snagged one of the tennis balls from me and we took our proper places on the court. We didn't need Alex Parker to have a fun time. As Jewel lobbed the ball high in the air and smashed it with her racquet, I made up my mind to discover why Alex Parker hated us so much.
"Momma?"
Momma was in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables that would go in the large silver pot on the stove. Water bubbled and boiled, and the enticing smells reached my nostrils. It was our first dinner as a family, in Nick's home.
"Yes, Summer?" Momma dumped the chopped vegetables in the pot and wiped her hands on her apron, raising her head and offering me a smile.
"Don't you think it's kind of strange that Ms. Parker and her son live here, with us?" I asked, leaning my elbows on the counter. "Why don't they have their own place?"
"From what I've gathered," Momma said, as she began to check on the roast in the oven, "Ms. Parker has been with Nick's family since he was very young. She and her late husband both lived here with their son, on the property."
"Alex acts like this place should be his," I muttered. "He gave Jewel and me a hard time when we came to play on the tennis court."
"He's just a young boy going through a turbulent time," Momma said. "This place really has been his stomping grounds. He was born here and grew up here, and now here's a new family coming in and taking the place over."
I sighed. "I don't know. I worry about Jewel. She wants so much for him to like her, but ñ I don't know, Momma. I just don't know."
Momma looked at me and smiled, reaching out to run a hand through my hair. "I know you worry about your sister. She'll be fine. She's a strong, feisty one."
"You're right, Momma," I said.
The kitchen doors swung open and Ms. Parker entered, with Alex at her heels. Momma greeted our step-father's maid with a kind smile, which Ms. Parker returned. Alex didn't look at either Momma or his own mother; he glared at me instead.
"Alexander and I are here to see if you need any assistance, ma'am," Ms. Parker said. It was so funny to hear a woman years and years older than Momma refer to her as ma'am.
Momma must have thought it queer too, because she laughed. "Oh no, please," she said, pressing a hand over her bosom. "Call me Rachael. Rae, if you prefer. And can I call you Laura? Ms. Parker seems so ñ starchy."
Ms. Parker, as she'd always be Ms. Parker to me, smiled and nodded. "That works for me."
Alex scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, still lancing me with a hateful glare. "Ma, didn't you have something you wanted to show the ladies of the house?" Alex said, venom dripping from his words.
"Oh, that's right!" Ms. Parker put a hand on Momma's wrist, pulling her toward the sitting room. "Nick went out this afternoon and picked out new furniture. He wishes he could show you himself, but as he's still cooped up in the studio, he handed the duties to me." Ms. Parker tugged Momma to the sitting room and I followed.
Ms. Parker threw open the doors to the sitting room, where a new oil painting was sitting over the fireplace mantle. It depicted the four of us, Nick, Momma, Jewel and I as a family, a real family. Never in my life had we ever sat down for a family portrait, not even when Daddy was around. We didn't even put out Christmas cards when Daddy was with us. Being a family wasn't something Daddy had ever troubled himself with; Momma was there to be his live-in maid, as Ms. Parker was to Nick, and Jewel and I were there as proof of his virility. We weren't much use to him otherwise.
"Oh, my," Momma exclaimed, breathless. "It's beautiful! We never posed for a painting, though. How did he -" Momma turned to Ms. Parker with questioning eyes.
"He took some photographs you'd given him and had his artist use them as reference," Ms. Parker explained. "All he's ever wanted was a family. I'm so happy he finally has one."
"He's not close with his parents? Or his brothers and sisters?" I asked. I thought the painting itself was kind of strange. I wasn't used to seeing anything like that painting outside of an antiquated, black-and-white horror movie.
Ms. Parker smiled thinly, heading with Momma to the doors. "It's a long story, Summer. I feel like such a gossip. Perhaps I should let your step-father explain it to you, when he wishes."
The three of us exited the sitting room and headed back to the kitchen. I paused briefly to look for signs of Alex Parker, but he was no where to be seen. Good, I thought to myself, meanly. But I figured I was allowed to think mean thoughts about him. He had been nothing but rude and unkind since we arrived. He's more than earned it, I thought to myself. Amazing that such a nasty little boy could come out of a kind, caring mother like his.
TBC