Chapter 22- Lace
"It's too tight in the shoulders, I can't wear this," Annette chided the saleswoman who had recommended that she try on the light green cocktail dress. "And the lace on this is quite dowdy. And this color is absolutely atrocious, the whole thing is just a mess."
Speaking of messes, Annette thought as caught sight of Dorothy and…she smiled to herself. Lupe. Well, that's interesting, isn't it? She's not in uniform either, so they are out socially together. Annette was curious as to what cockamamie scheme Dorothy had cooked up and shanghaied Lupe into.
"Dorothy, darling, how nice to run into you and…Lupe, isn't it? What a charming dress you've got on dear, my mother used to have one just like it when I was a little girl," Annette slyly insulted her.
Lupe merely shrugged, apparently getting the insult but also not caring either. Oh yes, this is all Dorothy's doing, Lupe does not care too much about her clothing. Ah Dorothy, you can't smell the desperation on yourself. How bad has it gotten between closed doors?
Dorothy laughed thinly. "Well we are here to get her something a little bit more in fashion for the grand opening of Luckier Duck."
How long would have she'd have dragged Lupe all over Rapture before running into me? "I don't know if this is the right place, have a look at this disaster I've got on."
"I think it looks very nice on you Mrs. Anderson," Lupe spoke up. "I love lace, it's so feminine and delicate. I always feel so pretty in it."
"I'm afraid I don't care for this and doubly afraid then that it's too small for you," Annette replied and went to the dressing room to take it off.
While changing back into her own dress she overheard a hushed exchange between Dorothy and Lupe. Dorothy was trying far too hard to control the situation which had clearly spiraled out of control. Where she Dorothy, Annette would cut her losses at this point and change the narrative to be, well, what it was – that her dog of husband was screwing the maid. She wouldn't be the first and she wouldn't be the last. It wouldn't lose that much face and there were more than enough men in Rapture to go around.
But Dorothy had too much pride. Pride, ha, what a silly, old-fashioned idea. Pride wasn't fun. Pride got you nowhere, especially not when everyone was whispering behind your back how your husband was dipping his pen in the maid's ink. Stiff-backed, foolish Dorothy probably listened to them screw at night and comforted herself by thinking of her Mayflower ancestors. They'd laugh at you and your pathetic charade too, Annette thought as she slipped her shoes back on.
Not that Annette would ever give Dorothy this advice. It was far too entertaining to watch this play out. She hadn't expected this strategy from Dorothy. Had Dorothy been more naturally charismatic or a better liar it may have worked, but the obvious friction between her and Lupe was glaring. Judging by the side-eye the saleswoman was giving them it was obvious to strangers as well.
Dorothy and Lupe were standing awkwardly next to each other and avoiding eye contact when Annette came back out. Dorothy dear, you drag the poor thing away from her dishes and Richard's bed for what? She was being perfectly polite to me and you've scolded her for it. Annette envied Lupe not a bit. She'd probably end up with a literal knife in her back for her pains with Richard and Dorothy.
Annette gave them a broad smile. "Let's find you something to make you a lovely lacey Lupe, hm?" She snapped her fingers to summon the saleswoman. "Bring my friends here some lacey dresses fit for an evening celebration."
The saleswoman complied and Lupe was soon trying them on. Annette took this opportunity to scope out her goods under the guise of helping her into a particularly snug cream-colored gown. Lovely Lupe indeed. Her light brown skin was flawlessly smooth and in her partially clothed state she absolutely radiated enticing sensuality. She was curved and buxom in the way that servants tended to be over their betters, which was why it was so common for men to lust after them. If I had a nickel for each time Robert's gotten it in his mind to horse around with one of the servants I'd have enough to buy this dress. Robert would be happy to hear that Lupe was a choice cut of meat. If all went according to plan he'd have her to celebrate the opening of the Luckier Duck.
After an hour all four of them agreed that they had found the right dress– well, Lupe and Annette and the saleswoman agreed, Dorothy gritted her teeth and nodded. It was a tea-length royal blue lace and organza dress. Despite the generous amount of cleavage it still looked almost a bit girlish and innocent and sweet. Robert is going to love unwrapping this.
Even though she was visibly uneasy with Dorothy's strange choreography, Lupe was delighted with her purchase. Richard must not buy her too many presents, Annette observed. But then again that would incur Dorothy's wrath, wouldn't it? He's got a vested interest in keeping Dorothy pacified, but not enough to ditch Lupe. Annette mulled this over in her mind while Lupe and Dorothy had another hushed exchange.
After rejecting several possible hypotheses, such as religious belief or blackmail, Annette decided that the reason why must be money. He doesn't have much in the way of liquid assets and he can't afford a divorce. What Annette was going to do with this information didn't know. Perhaps nothing and she'd just squirrel it away. Perhaps she'd destroy Richard and Dorothy completely. That was the fun of it.
And speaking of fun… Annette beckoned to Dorothy while Lupe was checking out. "Cigarette?"
Dorothy nodded and followed Annette out of the store. She certainly looked like she needed a smoke. They stood near the staircase, Annette watching Dorothy staring back into the store with poorly disguised rage. It's almost too easy with her.
"Pretty dress, hm?" Annette prodded after she lit her cigarette.
Dorothy wordlessly nodded.
"It's a lovely color on her, don't you think? She's pretty though, it'd be hard to hide that light under a basket," Annette continued as if this was not something probably running through Dorothy's head as she slept alone each night.
"Yes," Dorothy tightly replied. "Too bad she's not clever enough to get a real job."
"If I were you I'd watch her around your husband," Annette said in a hushed tone.
Dorothy's eyes flicked towards Annette at this belated warning. "Why on Earth would you say that?"
Unlike her friend, Annette had no problems masking her emotions. She betrayed no joy and displayed only slight concern. "You know how men are. I'm sure nothing has happened, Richard loves you, but men have a little bit of a beast in them, no matter how civilized they get."
Dorothy pressed her lips together and stared back at the shop. It was a long time before she replied again. "I trust Lupe to behave, we get on quite well. I'd trust her over Richard almost." Dorothy forced the most tortured laugh Annette had ever heard at her 'joke'. "Almost. Regardless I'd be more worried about myself. Did you see the handsome new waiter at Café Sparrow?"
No no, you don't get to change the subject, not while I've got you on the line. "Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. It's just…well…I've heard some rumors that Richard was a bit…" Annette paused to draw out the look of mortification on Dorothy's face. "…familiar with Lupe. But I'm sure it's all above board, right?"
"Oh, the jail thing," Dorothy tried to dismiss with a shaky voice. "Yes, I know, Richard told me all about it. I was very worried about her, once she got home I gave her a hot compress and sent her to bed."
Even if Annette hadn't sniffed out the truth she wouldn't have bought Dorothy's weakly delivered defense. "Ah, what a relief!"
Lupe came out of the shop at that moment with the garment bag delicately hanging over her shoulder. "Are you ready to go home, Mrs. Stone? I need to finish with the linens and press some of Mr. Stone's shirts."
Dorothy flinched at the word 'home'. This isn't the domestic bliss you had in mind, hm? Annette wasn't done feasting yet, however.
"What kind of outfit is complete without shoes? And a bag? And have you thought about your hair?" Annette pointed out. "Let's make a day of it!"
Lupe already looked fed up with her gal pal time, but Dorothy shot her a quick threatening look. She sighed and reshuffled the bags in her hands for easier carrying. "Alright, I suppose the shirts can wait."
Dorothy took a long drag off her cigarette. "They sure can."
Annette knew she was being a bit of a glutton, but sometimes one needed to treat oneself.
Would You Kindly imagine a page break here?
With a relieved sigh Dorothy pressed the button on the elevator for their floor. Lupe couldn't physically do it as she was weighed down with nearly a dozen bags, mostly of things for her. Dorothy had spent nearly all the cash she had on Richard's whore at Annette's urging. Annette had seen them to their building after hours of grueling friendship.
"That was utterly exhausting," Lupe said in a tired voice as the elevator began to ascend.
Dorothy no longer had it in her to tell Lupe to shut up. Annette had strewn her nasty little comments into the innocuous conversation at every turn like confetti at a New Year's Eve party. Keeping her cool has sucked up all of her pith and most of her vinegar. All Dorothy desired was to lay down on the sofa and listen to the radio until it was time to go to bed.
"My feet are so sore I can barely stand," Lupe continued, daring to share her thoughts since Dorothy hadn't snapped at her.
Dorothy wished she could detach her feet and store them away for the evening. Even though it would have been the perfect opportunity to tell Lupe off for being lazy Dorothy didn't take it. "Mine as well."
They shared a strange moment of sympatico until the bell chimed and the door gently whooshed open. "Hurry up," Dorothy snapped at her as she stepped out of the elevator and quickly walked to their door.
As she was weighed down by the bags, Lupe was considerably slower than Dorothy. Dorothy was obliged to hold the door for her as she entered. Goodness, I hope no one sees.
"Don't forget to grab the mail," Dorothy commanded in a loud voice in case anyone was listening. I am in control. Me. Not her. I am the mistress of this house. "And I want dinner at the usual time, you aren't excused just because you had other errands."
Lupe didn't respond, but after putting the shopping bags in her room she returned to the hallway to fetch the mail from the Jet Postal tube. "Nothing for you, Mrs. Stone, but there is a few things for Mr. Stone. I'll leave them here on the side table for him."
Overly familiar, Dorothy thought as she sat on the sofa. A proper servant would put them on his desk, but I suppose you think it's okay to do whatever it is that you wish. But Annette's needling had depleted her ability to fuss so she let it slide.
The inelegant sound of clattering cookware from the kitchen let Dorothy know that Lupe had started cooking. Fish again, I'm sure. Dorothy languidly leaned over the table and switched on the radio. I can't wait until we return to the surface. I'm never going to eat fish again.
With an annoyed eye-roll, Dorothy realized that she left her cigarettes in her coat pocket. She was tempted to holler for Lupe to get them, but it would be uncouth to yell like a hillbilly for a hog's supper. Once on the surface I won't ever have to see her whore face again either. She thought of her favorite recent daydream, that being of Lupe being caught in an airlock, banging on the door as water filled the compartment up. She added Annette to that tableau, not feeling the need to add a reason why Annette and Lupe would be in an airlock together.
She smiled and chuckled to herself as she got up to get her cigarettes. Oh dear, there's only a little pocket of air left, you shouldn't have slept with my husband or teased me about my husband's infidelity. Annette was quickly eclipsing Lupe in terms of irritability, but Lupe's proximity to Dorothy kept her at the forefront of her mind. Either way they could both drown for a penny as far as she was concerned.
Dorothy plucked her cigarettes from her coat pocket and as she looked down something trapped her eye like a mouse in a glue trap. Urgent medical advice. Bold red pen. Her hands, almost of their own accord, took the envelope addressed to Richard from it's spot on the tidy little table.
Isn't she curious as to what is about? Dorothy glanced towards the closed door to the kitchen. No, of course not, if she's curious about it she'll ask him after…Dorothy's fingers clenched the envelope. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I shouldn't be begging for scraps after the maid is done with my husband.
Dorothy took the letter and hurried off to her bedroom. She switched on her face steamer and locked the door to her bedroom. Her dignity couldn't handle Lupe tattling her to Richard for spying on his mail. She delicately held the envelope over the steam until it loosened enough to slip the letter enclosed out.
To Richard C. Stone
The results of the requested tests upon your semen have found it to contain high levels of polonium, uranium, curium, and radium. It is highly advised that you refrain from sexual intercourse, as exposure to your semen would have an extremely detrimental effect on the health of a sexual partner, leading to ill-health, cancer, and certain death.
Sincerely,
Dr. Luther Crawford
Dorothy re-read the letter several times before it sunk in. Uranium, that's what was in those nuclear bombs, she realized with excitement. He's going to kill Lupe with his pecker! She laughed, giddy with joy. Sometimes problems solved themselves!
Reality kicked in. Richard would be expecting this letter. As to why he went to a doctor in the first place Dorothy didn't know nor care. This letter has to disappear. No. It needs to be replaced, he needs to think it's safe, he needs to keep rodgering Lupe and not me. A shock of devious inspiration struck her. I will hide this letter, and once she dies of whatever awful illness uranium gives I'll show this letter around and make it seems as if he knew and he didn't care. It's got the letterhead and everything from the doctor on it, very official. He'll be exposed as the heartless bastard he is. I will win! This is how I will win!
The drawer to her writing desk made only the slightest squeak as Dorothy took out her stationery and typewriter. It took several drafts before she developed a letter that properly aped the tone and content of the original, and to cover her tracks she burned the drafts in the ashtray.
To Richard C. Stone,
The results of your requested tests upon your semen have found no detrimental or harmful effects. It is in my medical opinion that it is entirely safe to have sexual intercourse.
Sincerely,
Dr. Luther Crawford
With just the slightest bit of luck, Richard would be happy enough with his 'results' to not notice that it was not on the letterhead of the doctor. And when did he ever notice anything that wasn't either a blueprint or their maid's tits? This was going to work. It probably wouldn't take that long either.
She resealed the envelope and placed it back on the sideboard in the foyer where Lupe had originally set it. There was zero remorse or second-guessing of her choice to condemn Lupe to a horrible death – only a sense of relief that sooner or later (hopefully sooner) Lupe would be gone.
"If it wasn't me it would be someone else," Lupe's words from earlier echoed into her head. She brushed it off. Hopefully his poisonous fluid would take the wind out of his sails.
Thirty minutes after she finished Richard returned home. Upon hearing the door open Dorothy oh so casually got up to greet him. It would have pained her when she noticed that he was much more handsome and confident after his surgery had her anger at him not been all-encompassing. She had forgotten how good-looking he had been before the war. He was good-looking again now. But that was no longer her problem.
"How was work?" Dorothy asked as she approached him.
Richard gave her an inquisitive look. "Why do you want to know?"
Dorothy shrugged innocently. "I'm bored."
"Work was irritating. The shipment of zinc we got in had far too many impurities in it but there's a shortage of zinc at the moment so either we have to make do with it or delay production. Either option is unappealing."
Dorothy felt her eyes glaze over. If she let him he'd ramble on about zinc for hours. "You got a letter, it looks important."
"Ah, so I did." He hung his hat upon the hat rack. "Considering that my eyes glow in the dark I thought it would be worthwhile to get a second opinion in regards to other body parts, if you catch my meaning."
Dorothy gave a sly smile. "I think I may."
Richard ripped the letter open and read the brief missive. He looked up from the text at Dorothy, and then reread it. "Well, that's some excellent news. Everything is peachy."
Dorothy smiled at him. "That's wonderful news, darling."
Richard read the letter one more time. "How about we celebrate, hm? You, me, that hotel your friend was going on about at the party? With the French name?"
Not on your life, you may as well have a rattlesnake between your legs. "Another day, I've got a bit of cold. I don't think I'd enjoy it."
Richard nodded slowly. "Certainly. Another day."
That night as she lay in bed she no longer tried to ignore the rhythmic thumping and muffled cries of pleasure. Enjoy while you can you whore. You're going to pay. The thumping and moaning suddenly ceased. Excellent.