FOUR

"The summer before my last year of high school, mother decided I was to become a debutante and have formal lessons in how to act properly in society. I went to stay with her in DC, and joined her circle of friends."

*

CC stood sat quietly at the tea table and let them fawn over her. Her hair, her figure, her apparently delicate features; CC found it hard to understand how they could all think she was so delicate when she was two heads taller than her younger sister and twice the size of her petite mother. She hated being on display. She did not understand why everyone wanted to touch her hair. She asked DD about it once they were alone.

"It's because you were the only natural blonde at that table."

"You mean mommy's not-" DD cut her off with a laugh.

"Oh please!" CC watched her younger sister, just thirteen, sitting at her dressing table, primping with makeup. CC sat on the end of the pink bedspread. DD was home from boarding school for the summer, and it was the most amount of time CC was to spend with her sister since DD was a baby. CC had always imagined that DD would be just like her, that when they saw each other they would have so much to talk about, but it had not taken long to see that DD was a mirror image of BB, and CC was the odd third wheel, the middle child stuck somewhere between the mother and the father. How appropriate.

CC let DD instruct her in the very best way to do her makeup, and it shamed CC to admit that she learned a bit. She never really wore makeup like other girls in school.

"Mommy says you've been living with daddy for far too long," she said. CC did not bother to correct her. She might have been living in their father's apartment, but 'with daddy' implied some sort of regular communication or sight. CC had barely seen him in months.

"I like it there. I like New York. Compared to New York, this city is a graveyard."

"Wow," DD said as she stared at CC's made-up reflection in the mirror. "You look really old with makeup on. I bet you could get into clubs without them asking for ID."

"I'm nearly seventeen. I would want to hope I looked at least that old."

"No, you look about twenty-five CC." DD laughed. "I wonder if you'll look older than you are for the rest of your life now?" CC sighed and stood, brushing her sister off and reaching for the pre-moistened towels to remove her makeup. She was such a positive little cherub.

"I only wear this stuff when I have to. At least yours comes off easier than the school plays'."

"You're an actor?" DD asked, standing and twirling. "Oh, how romantic. Mommy will have a fit!"

"Why?"

"Because if you become famous you'll be more popular than her. Oh, do it CC, just so I can see the look on her face?" CC laughed, but threw her arms out by her side in confusion.

"I thought you two got on so well you were like sisters?" DD scoffed.

"I'm still waiting for her to die just like any other kid in our position." CC frowned at the blunt response. She was surprised to hear it out of DD's mouth, even though the thought had occurred to her over the years, and she had heard kids at school talking, the odd flippant remark.

But CC did not have to wait for her parents to die. Her bank account was overflowing by the usual standards. Her father had invested millions in her name over the years, and when she completed her economics and business degree she would have full control of it.

Had her father not done that for his other children?

"What about daddy?" CC asked. DD shrugged and returned to primping herself in the mirror.

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure he is my father." CC gasped and sat back down on the bed.

"DD!"

"Oh he knows it. It doesn't bother me. Mommy told me my father was a young, passionate dreamer. In other words, a much better lover than boring old daddy." CC knew there was a young Nanny Carla out there somewhere who would probably disagree. "Besides, I'm so different to you and Noel. He's so...quiet and stuffy, and you're so...tall and stubborn. You're both blonde with blue eyes. I'm brunette with brown. Makes sense to me."

"And you don't care that for that to be true mommy would have cheated on daddy?"

"Oh they were both doing it. It doesn't count when that happens."

CC retreated to her room where she could process. Her little sister, barely a teenager, conversed like a twenty year old, gossiping socialite. Is that what her mother wanted her to gain out of this three month trip? CC had agreed only because the following summer she would be going to college, and it was the last time she would ever be able to spend a lot of time with her family before she became an adult. But was it worth it? Maybe not. CC did not know how to become a lady, and even with makeup on, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

*

"Oh beautiful posture!" her tutor, Clarissa, said. "Your father taught you well."

"My dance teacher actually," CC corrected.

"What did you study?"

"Ballet." CC rolled her eyes when her mother nearly choked on her water at the other end of the table, which was covered in a beautiful lace cloth. "When I was a little girl," CC added through clenched teeth. She knew her mother was picturing her tall, broad, curvaceous frame in a tutu, and she did not care for it!

"Chin up dear," Clarissa reminded her. CC sighed but complied, looking down her nose at the table in front of her. How did anyone ever see their food? "Are you looking forward to your party?"

"Totally," CC mumbled. Clarissa and her mother shared a look, and CC stared between them. "What?"

"Dear," her mother replied. "It's not 'totally', you are not a homeless person. You say, 'Yes, I am, very much, thank you.'" CC put on her best lilting voice and fake smile.

"Yes, I am, very much, thank you." She thought she sounded like a freak but her mother beamed and clapped, and Clarissa squeezed her shoulder.

"Fast learner."

CC fought the desire to roll her eyes. She could not believe she had another month before she even got to the party!

*

If insisting for one week before the party that she wanted to wear a black dress nearly gave her mother a nervous breakdown, CC should not have been so surprised at the murderous scream that originated from her mother's mouth when she caught CC in the arms of one of the waiters in the pantry mid-gathering. CC's mind was a blur as it happened; she was far more concerned with the fact that it was her first kiss and that it was more amazing than anything she had ever imagined.

The thought of being caught had struck her, the boy had mentioned it, but CC had not minded. She had just wanted the kiss, to feel what it was like to be desired. Nobody from school wanted to go out with her because she was so different to all the other rich girls. Maybe wearing beautiful wedding dresses was okay if she got to be kissed so passionately every time.

Her mother's wail separated them, and the sting and surprise of her mother's hand whipping across her cheek brought tears to CC's eyes.

"Mommy!" she exclaimed.

"This is the most disgraceful exhibit. You'll never get a husband this way!"

"Well fine! I don't want to get married!" Her mother clutched at her chest and CC took the opportunity to tell the waiter he had to go. She was stunned to realise she did not remember his name.

"CC, have you no pride?"

"Of course I do," CC said, reaching up to touch her fancy hair, wondering if any of the half a million bobby pins hidden in there somewhere had come out.

"A Babcock does not make a habit of sneaking off into the cupboards with the servants! What is your father teaching you down in New York?"

"How to make money?" CC asked. Her mother whimpered.

"Darling you don't need to know how to make money. You have money!" She threw her arms wide. "And by the way, you were not going to find any cash hidden in that young man's mouth."

"Mommy you've kissed lots of men before-"

"Rich! Rich men!"

"But mommy, you don't need to make money. You have money!" CC grinned as she threw her mother's critique back in her face and mimicked her gesture; it was genius, but her mother looked less amused. Her cheeks went bright red and her brown eyes grew dark.

"CC Babcock, that is not funny. You go out there and you behave like a lady! Intelligent, attractive men do not fall in love with arrogant trollops, do you understand? They fall in love with ladies. I can't believe I actually thought you were ready for this. I have never been so disappointed in my life."

"That's tough, coming from a woman who had an illegitimate daughter." Her mother's hand rose to slap her once again and CC braced herself, but it never came. Instead, her mother's hand curled into a pointing finger.

"Mark my words young lady, that sharp tongue of yours will cause you nothing but heartache. If you don't change you will end up alone. Is that what you want?" CC rolled her eyes. "Is it?"

"No," she said with a sigh.

*

CC remained angry for the rest of the summer, and as the deportment lessons intensified in the wake of her disastrous coming out party, she discovered that acting like a rich snob gave her licence to freely criticise and express her anger. Her mouth ran away with her so quickly that people were laughing with her before they really understood what she said. Suddenly a little kiss, and some posh disdain made her popular, not only with DD, who wanted to know every detail of the kiss, but with the other teenage girls; daughters of her mother's friends.

Every time they went out for lunch or dessert, they expected CC to come out with some story. The conversations were more normal than CC had guessed. They talked about school, teachers, their parents, shopping. They were real conversations, yet they still somehow managed to sound fake and bitchy. CC hated it, but she let DD drag her around because now that she was 'out' she could chaperone DD, and far be it from CC to deprive her sister of a life outside her home. The poor kid was already in boarding school. How much worse could it get?

Yet every night CC went to the guest bedroom and lay down on the double bed. She removed the picture of her and her father from her suitcase and stared at it a while, before saying goodnight and returning it to its hiding place. She did not think her mother would approve of her carrying around an old photo. She definitely did not think her mother would understand her reasoning. Somehow, holding that photo of when she was eight, with her dad sitting with her under the Christmas tree, made her feel safer and more content than being in her mother's home. Even CC could not really explain it.

One night not long before she was due to leave, CC snuck out of the house and went to visit the Lincoln Memorial. There were fewer tourists at night, yet the buses were frequent enough, and she was within walking distance if she really had to walk. She felt a pleasant zing of rebellion at the thought of what her mother would say if she knew her fully deported and groomed daughter was on a DC bus in the middle of the night. It only spurred her on.

She had brought a book with her, a set of Shakespearean plays she knew was on the reading list for senior year, and she sat on the steps of the memorial and read under the dim, artistic lights of the display. There were still enough people around that she felt safe, and a security guard walked past every half an hour, but it was certainly quieter than New York.

CC had been ignoring her homesickness for three months, but as returning got closer the feelings of longing for the noise and bustle and her beautiful apartment were harder to suppress. If she had to listen to one more conversation about catering or designer-wear or what the neighbour's son did to his cousin, she was going to vomit. How did they think it was interesting? They only ever talked about poetry and Shakespeare for the sake of it, never to say anything of their own opinions. It wasn't like school at all. It was more like show and tell over tea and cookies.

If CC had learnt one thing on her trip it was how to fake it. Nobody wanted to talk about what she wanted to talk about; history and art and music. If she even mentioned music someone clicked their fingers, and within minutes Beethoven was being played on a nearby piano. Sure, the classics were good, the composers had been geniuses, but what about having some fun with it? Couldn't anyone play a good jig anymore?

Still, it was not as though CC could play the piano. She had studied ballet and singing, and had given them both up after a few years, when it became clear her father was never going to come and see her perform. So it was not as though she could provide any alternate entertainment, and she just had to stand there and be bored by the conversations about floral arrangements and the next fancy fundraiser.

CC could not wait to get back to school. At least she could focus on her studies, and then go home and do homework, and talk to Angie the maid about what she was learning while Angie sat there painting her for her latest art project. At least in Angie her father had finally found a domestic who CC could talk to without feeling like a rich kid, and Angie only ever interfered when she had to, which was never, or when CC asked her a question, which did happen on occasion. Still, they were a world apart and there were days when CC felt incredibly guilty for taking up so much of Angie's time.

But then Angie went home and CC had the house to herself overnight. She could watch whatever she wanted on the television and she was in total control of her bedtime and what she ate. Most of the time she ate dinners Angie prepared, but sometimes she would make her own and try new things. As long as the kitchen was cleaned it was okay with Angie.

Her mother would just die if she knew it, and so would her father, so CC never told them.

*

The night before she left, CC let herself into DD's room. DD was sitting up in bed, flipping through a teenage magazine.

"What are you doing?" CC asked.

"The quiz. Are you hot or cold in bed with him?" CC was aghast but at the same time instantly intrigued as to what her own result would be if she took the quiz. She knew that inside she was a passionate person, and her kiss with the waiter had only spurred on her imagination. Yet somehow she could not imagine her own little sister, so dainty and poised and perfect, yet so judgemental, ever being very 'hot' in bed. Nor could she imagine that of her mother, but she must have been, to cheat on her father with all those men, right? CC certainly did not want to turn into her mother in that way! CC Babcock was no tramp. She just didn't quite know how to be a lover. Nobody had loved her yet, but they would one day.

God willing.

"So I'm going home tomorrow."

"I know," DD said with a laugh. "I think mommy's a little relieved."

"I can tell daddy you said hello?"

"Don't bother."

"Do you want me to send you anything from New York? You could come and visit."

"Mommy wouldn't let me."

"You could go anyway? It's not very expensive."

"What, run away? CC!" DD stared at her with wide eyes and CC could only shrug.

"Well I'm going away to college after this year. I think I would like to study abroad for a bit, and then stay in a dorm. What do you think?"

"I think it's very obvious you've never gone to boarding school. You're lucky like that you know, being daddy's favourite." DD hesitated and watched CC carefully before continuing. "Can I ask you something? Is it true what mommy says?"

"What does she say?"

"That daddy loves you a little too much?"

"Huh?" DD just lifted her eyebrows and it took another minute for CC to comprehend what she was asking. She sucked in a breath and scampered off the bed. "Mommy says what?"

"I've heard her. She says she always thought he loved you too much and it's why she never took you."

"Maybe she just meant I was his favourite, because I can tell you right now the rest is totally a lie. Is that what people think?"

"Well when she says it, that's what it sounds like. I think she says it more to make him sound bad than you." CC scoffed.

"So stupid."

"Why?"

"She's only making herself look bad. If that's what people think, if they think daddy hurt me then all she's saying is that she thought it was happening and left me there anyway."

"Ooh," DD said, frowning. CC knew she didn't get it and was agreeing for the sake of it.

"I never want kids," she said. "Look at mommy and daddy. All they got was one hermit, one idiot and one screw up."

"Which one is Noel?" DD asked. CC rolled her eyes. Had either of them heard more than five words from Noel for the past year? He was home visiting her father while she was in DC being subjected to becoming a woman. CC would have much preferred to be at home with him, talking about books and racing around the park torturing one another. God, those were the days.

"Next time mommy says that about me, tell her very loudly it's not true okay?" CC asked.

"Why? It doesn't affect me." CC frowned as she watched her sister go back to her magazine.

"Are you really that selfish?"

"Well he's not my father."

"DD! Don't be such a bitch!"

"Me? You're the one who suddenly got so good at it this summer! Look who's talking?"

"I never said anything bad about daddy!"

"You said plenty about mommy though, and I don't appreciate it. Why don't you just go back to New York, put those breasts in someone else's face, and become the little slut daddy's groomed you as!"

CC's cheeks burned and she resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She had to stop doing that. So what if she had breasts? She was a woman; they were there for a reason.

"You're just jealous because you don't even own a bra and nobody's ever kissed you!"

"You think that waiter kissed you because he liked you?" DD asked, laughing. CC's frown faltered. "A bunch of us were talking and when I told them you'd never had sex they all thought you were frigid, and my friend bet you were a good kisser because you're blonde, so we paid the waiter to go find out."

"What?" CC gasped. Her first kiss had been a bet? A fake kiss? He hadn't wanted her at all? But his hands had been all over her. He had touched her bare back!

"And guess what?" DD asked, smirking. "When he came back? Two thumbs down. Ba-baum." CC's anger prickled her skin and she put her hands on her hips, willing herself not to cry.

"You are the meanest, most selfish little bitch I ever met. I hope you rot in Hell!"

"Fine, go back to New York and go back to normal. It won't bother me!"

"Fine!" CC screamed, turning and storming out of DD's room. When she got back to the guest room she sat on the floor next to her suitcase, and wrapped her arms around her raised knees before she let herself cry.

How could she have been so stupid to think anyone who hardly knew her would want her? Seriously, she read magazines, she looked at the pictures. She could have been a model if she wasn't so curvy. She was pretty. What was wrong with everyone else? What did they see in her that she didn't know was there, that made her so unattractive? How could anyone think she was a bad kisser or frigid? She was only sixteen. That wasn't too old to have never had sex.

And what the hell did her little sister know about it? Was she more experienced than CC knew? Did she have her own secrets? Had she seen CC encroaching on her territory? She had nothing to worry about; CC hated Washington and wanted it to be daylight and time to leave more desperately than ever. She wanted to sit on her father's bed and inhale the smell of him and his long absence. She wanted her teddy bear and her records. She wanted her books and her college information booklets.

CC remembered something from her childhood as she sat on the floor. Something about her daddy liking little girls, a rumour even back then. It wasn't true. Well, it was, he did like little girls because he had spoilt her rotten when she was one, and as a teenager he had distanced himself, but he had never crossed any lines or made her uncomfortable. He was her daddy, and that was all. How could her mother spread around such horrible rumours? How could she think a man she had once loved would ever do that to his baby? CC knew that it happened, but not to her, not to their family. Her father was much more interested in the maids than in her. At least Angie was married and had a family. At least she was safe in that way. Who knew what her father got up to when he travelled, but the FBI wasn't breaking down the door so really her mother was just being vicious and mean and bitchy.

CC hated her for it. She hated DD for not questioning her. She hated them both for thinking that she wasn't good enough, for thinking they had somehow failed to make her into what they wanted her to be. Well, screw them. CC would show them. She would become rich and successful all by herself, and she would marry a handsome, smart man and have beautiful babies with him, and they would be happy forever and would never spread mean rumours about each other.

CC sighed as the invisible devil on her shoulder laughed and screamed, 'yeah right!'

She buried her head into her knees and cried, allowing herself to shake and her tears to dribble down to her lips and chin.

She did not think she could ever be what they wanted her to be. She wasn't sure she knew what that was anymore. Did they want her to be a lady, or did they want her to try to be a lady and fail? Did they want her to be a bitch, or did they want to wind her up until she cracked under the pressure of the conscience she knew was still inside her?

CC just wanted someone to hug her, to tell her that they didn't care if she wanted to slouch and put her feet on the table, to tell her she was beautiful and didn't need to change. Poorer people had to have it easier, didn't they? There were fewer expectations? Or maybe there were more, to marry up and all that nonsense. The grass was always greener, or so they said. CC enjoyed her wealth, she liked being rich, but she hated everything else that came with it, and she could not imagine having to fake it for the rest of her life.

She did not know who she was anymore. She knew that inside her there was passion, but for what and for who? She knew she never wanted to be like her mother, or her sister, but she would pretend to be like them for their sakes, to preserve the tenuous relationships, because without them she was practically an orphan, and one without a purpose in the world. She had no discernable talent, no single interest that eclipsed anything else.

Her only hope would be that in her final year of school she would find it, find something she wanted to do besides learning how to manage her finances. That was a condition of her gaining access to her millions, and she did not want to piss it all away like those white-trash lotto winners. She wanted to make her father proud of her investment and financial skills, but once she had learned that, what did she want to do for the rest of her life?

CC did not know what it was, but she knew it was not sitting around counting coins.

*

CC nearly fainted when she walked off the plane and saw her father standing at the back of the crowd. She had almost walked right past him, but when he grinned at her, her insides melted and she ran to him. She went to throw herself into his arms but then she remembered the rumours, and she realised she now looked much more like a maid than a little girl, especially dressed in her jeans and sweater.

"Oh daddy," she said, hugging him only briefly before pulling away. "I missed you so much!"

"I have time for lunch," he said, taking her carry-on bag from her and slinging her arm through his. "Then I need to be back here to head to Sweden. So what do you say I take you to my favourite five star restaurant on the harbour for a few hours, and drop you off at home? I'm assuming you have something a little less comfortable than denim in this bag?"

"Yes! I would love that!" CC said. "As long as I can put my elbows on the table and maybe use the wrong fork?" Her father laughed boldly as they walked to the baggage carousel.

"Fork yes, elbows...no." CC giggled and clutched at her father's arm. "So, how was it?"

"Three months of torture. They may as well have all sat around decorating bonnets!"

"I often thought that."

"I just don't fit in daddy."

"Yes you do," he assured her. "You will. You just need to find your niche." CC rolled her eyes. That was easier said than done.

*

CC watched Susanna sleeping soundly. Her five year old body was cutting off the circulation to CC's left leg and she shifted her around, stirring her in the process. It was morning, but Niles had not moved once during the night.

"Mommy?" Susanna asked on a whimper as she struggled to open her sleep-filled eyes. "Did I miss it? Did I miss the story about you and daddy?"

"No darling," she whispered in her baby's ear. "Mommy was just talking about herself and wallowing a little. Let's go home, get tidied and have something to eat, and then we can come back and sit with daddy some more." Susanna nodded and eased herself off the chair. CC stood and massaged her thigh, hoping to stave off pins and needles. She watched Susanna approach Niles and stroke her small hand down his rough cheek.

"Daddy's so handsome," she said, looking over her shoulder at CC. "Don't you think?"

"Yes I do," CC replied with a sigh. "Give him a kiss; we'll be back in a few hours." She watched Susanna peck Niles' cheek, and then she walked forward. Tears filled her eyes. She did not want to say goodbye, even for a few hours, but she had to be strong for her daughter.

CC let her fingers trail lightly over Niles' cheek. As she leant over, her hair fell over her ears and brushed his face. He did not stir or bat her away like he usually did. He did not reach up to tangle it in his hands and pull it back towards her head. CC's lips touched his in a chaste, still kiss. He did not respond. If it was not for the sound of his breathing and the electronic bleeping recording his heart it would have been so easy to imagine him dead.

"I'll be back," she promised him, her voice shaking as she pulled away just far enough to be able to look at his closed eyes, his fair lashes resting against his cheek. "I love you, you old bell boy," she whispered. Susanna had wrapped her hands around CC's hips and woollen sweater and was tugging on her with her head buried against the warm, soft material. CC could imagine her fear. She had felt fear at that age and knew what it was. It was not so different to the fear she felt as a forty-six year old woman.

There had been no change since she arrived; nurses had come in and out. The doctor's optimism she had revelled in had faded in just those few hours. CC knew Niles was drugged, but what if the doctor was wrong? What if he never woke up? He had changed her life, and she had not told him that enough. She hoped he could hear her talking to Susanna. If it was the last thing he ever heard, at least he would know his place with her. They would never be alone again.