Finished with what remained in his wine glass, Michael set his glass on the table and stood up. “Well, I suspect that the wine is making us all hungry. Is everyone ready to eat?”
“Sure!” replied Amber.
Paulette eagerly nodded.
The table was set; the salad mix was poured in a bowl, and Michael went back down into the wine cellar for another bottle of blended Malbec and Merlot.
Throughout dinner, Michael spoke about the many cruises that the family had taken and the places that Linsey enjoyed most. Michael boasted that year after year, Linsey insisted on hosting the holidays and would spare nothing to make the celebration better than the last. It was such easy conversation for Amber. All she needed to do was listen, and encourage Michael to tell more.
But at some point, the conversation suddenly changed direction. “So what about you, Amber? Are you in school? Maybe recently graduated?”
Amber hated lying! As is the case with most of us, many people had been dishonest throughout Amber's life. She despised people who simply exaggerated or, even worse, spoke wicked lies of deception. And perhaps in this sense, you are very, much like Amber. But ask yourself; was there a brief moment when you lied, today? If you are truthful with yourself, you will admit that there was a moment in which a white lie was spoken.
The fact is lying is an uncontrollable flaw of human nature. Most people do everything in their power to be truthful. But sometimes a white lie is spoken to cover some mild shortcoming or silly error made. It's often done for a good cause. But it's still lying. Perhaps this is partially the reason why we attend church on Sunday. No human is perfect.
Amber's collection of white lies had been rehearsed for some hours before the meeting. She felt that the lies had good intentions and would soon blow away once winning Michael's heart. Although her father was a wealthy man who would have sent his daughter to whatever university accepted her, Amber wasn't fully prepared for a higher education after high school. You cannot force a young woman like Amber to follow a pre-decided path. For a few years after high school, she pretty much did nothing.
In recent times, however, Amber decided to better herself and take general education classes at the Sillmac Community College. Through time, she hoped to find a major.
Amber's white lies were far, more interesting and something for Michael to seriously consider. “I'm taking classes down at the Sillmac Community College, majoring in physical therapy, caring for elderly or handicapped. I hope to one day work with people who have physical limitations.”
Michael was impressed, “Really? How's that going?”
“Pretty good… I don't know; I might have to take a break for a while and save up more money. My dad makes just enough money to disqualify for student financial aid for me.”
Michael interrupted, “Ah, your Dad is in that middle class range that is unfairly denied financial assistance for his kids' college. He probably makes good money, but it's all used on family and household expenses. See, if he was at the poverty level, or if you were a minority, you would have a free ride through college. If your father was one of the wealthy few in this nation, he could pay out of pocket for your schooling. But for the rest of this country, people have to struggle their way through paying for college. It's funny how the middle class get's the shit-end of the stick—if you pardon my French.”
“Oh, yeah! I know all about it!” More lies spoken by Amber! “And I get part time jobs, but they don't pay very well. Plus they only cut into my studies, you know?”
Michael nodded in agreement, appearing to be in contemplation.
For Paulette, it was the most pathetic tale of irony she had ever heard. What was Amber doing, looking for a job? Paulette grew increasingly curious of this visitor.
Some time passed as the visit was nearing its end. For Michael, it was a desperate moment in which he knew that all hinged on his consummation. But how would it look to Paulette? And was it the best thing for his girl? Finally he spoke his suggestion. “Amber… I don't want you to take time off from school. If you can work it into your schedule, I just might have a job for you. I'm sure it's no secret that I'm founder and owner of Dickly's Hardware; you know, the hardware stores springing up all over the nation? I've got a business to operate and can't leave it unattended. But Paulette and I are in a difficult moment. Who can take care of her throughout the day? I'm usually home, but spend many hours in teleconference calls or working on presentations and stuff. How would you like to do a little internship? You major in working with handicapped. I would pay you handsomely if you accepted this offer.”
Amber paused, appearing to consider the offer. “Well, it all depends on how Paulette feels about this.”
And just how did Paulette feel of the arrangement? Well, let's just say that Paulette was most curious of the woman who suddenly had control over Father.
* * *
Later that night, Michael slipped into bed and moved close to Linsey. “I know what you're thinking. She reminds me so much of you when we first met. And maybe I did give in for a brief moment to those feelings. But Paulette and I need her. You saw her; so considerate of Paulette and seems to have a good head on her shoulders. I'll be home while she's here and will be sure to keep an eye on things. I want to sell the business, but it could take months, maybe a year or two for everything to happen. If I leave it neglected, it'll lose value.”
Michael kissed his wife's forehead then sighed. “Listen to me, not being completely open and honest with you. Linsey it's just… well, she really brightened up the evening for us. She just showed up at the front door and was like a God-send.”
Chapter Six
This would be a highly challenging week for Amber; not because she accepted a job that she knew nothing about, and not because it would require her to blow off classes at the community college; but because there was more about her life that was kept secret from Michael and Paulette.
It was seven o'clock, Monday morning; not more than twelve hours after her initial dinner with Michael and Paulette. Amber knocked at the door of the Dickly castle.
Shortly after, Michael answered. “Hey, good morning!”
“Good morning!”
“Paulette might still be sleeping. I have coffee if you need some.”
“No, I'm fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I'm okay.”
Michael took the young woman's coat. Amber looked just as beautiful as the previous evening and caused an immediate, painful yearning for Linsey. Michael covered his longing by suggesting to start the day.
“Well, I suppose we should go upstairs and see if Paulette's awake.”
As the two approached and ascended the stairs, Michael nearly apologized for the previous evening. “Listen, I hope I wasn't out of place for suddenly offering this job to you. I guess I'm just desperate, really need someone to care for Paulette.”
Amber reassured him, “No, believe me; you are doing me a favor. I'm glad to help.”
They were careful in approaching Paulette's bedroom and opening the door, just in case she was still sleeping. But Paulette was awake and waiting to begin her day. Of course Michael wasn't going to immediately turn his daughter over to Amber. He was sure to properly instruct the new caretaker of how to get Paulette out of bed and into the wheelchair. It isn't necessary to provide details on every messy aspect of handling a paralyzed person in those early morning hours. But Amber was given thorough training of those duties, how to operate the crane-like machine that would lower Paulette onto the toilet, and how to keep her supported while she did her business.
Paulette was to be bathed and groomed every morning. Needless to say, undressing the girl was a delicate matter. Michael was relieved to finally have a woman caretaker who could tend to this ritual that was a bit uncomfortable between father and daughter.
While filling the bathtub, Michael urged, “And please; always remember not to fill with too much water. If she happens to slide under, she might drown. I don't k
now how strong you are; but promise me you won't overfill the tub!”
“I promise I'll be extra careful with her.”
Michael continued, “We brush her teeth while she's in the tub. And she likes to use mouthwash. Just bring the bottle up to her lips so she can take a swig. And use a cup so she can spit it out. I'll leave everything over here on the sink.”
Paulette was lowered in the bathtub with the crane-like machine. “Do you think you can wash her? I'm sure Paulette is quite finished with Daddy washing her; right, Honey?”
Paulette only returned a blank stare.
“I'll go downstairs and fix breakfast for all of us. Yell downstairs if you need anything.”
Alone with Paulette who only gazed up with an unsure look, Amber sat down on the edge of the bathtub for her first heart-to-heart talk with the girl. “I know this must be awkward for you. I'm not much older than you are, and… Well, I'm a stranger to you, I know. I guess I just felt this calling, like I'm supposed to be here and help.” Amber's eyes glassed as she stammered in a second of controlling a teardrop. “If you just give me a chance, I can be your friend. I know you and your mother were close friends. Your father didn't tell me this, but I can see it. You need someone to continue that friendship in addition to taking care of you.”
Amber took the small bucket and carefully dumped water on Paulette's hair. “It's not going to be easy; there will be some challenges. And it'll take time for you to trust me, I know.”
Amber was a quick learner! Much to Michael's surprise, by the time he finished making breakfast, his daughter was not only cleaned for the day; but dressed, seated in the wheelchair and having her hair blow-dried by Amber.
Amber received adequate instruction on how to operate the wheelchair lift so that Paulette could come downstairs. Amber was certainly welcome to enjoy breakfast with Michael and Paulette; but as a caretaker, she was first expected to feed the paralyzed girl until she had eaten her fill. It wasn't necessary for Michael to voice this. In fact, Amber was proactive in feeding Paulette before Michael even thought of asking.
* * *
And this was pretty much the schedule for the first few days: an easy job of simply washing, grooming and dressing Paulette for the morning; bringing her downstairs for breakfast and feeding her; then spending the day with her. One could have thought of Amber as a friend for hire.
But there was a little problem back at home, a small conflict between mother and daughter that Amber tried so gracefully to extinguish every night. It would begin as Amber returned home each day, after her eight hours at the Dickly castle.
“Where have you been all day?”
“School, Mom! Remember, I'm taking classes?” These were more white lies spoken by Amber. They were all for a good cause.
“But you're only going part time!”
“Mom, I need to study and do projects! I've got midterms coming up!”
Mother knew better! Taking part-time general education classes at the Sillmac Community College would not require Amber to leave at 6:30 in the morning and come home close to four o'clock in the afternoon. Amber was probably with a boy, probably the same boy who left her, heartbroken, over a year ago. She was probably out gallivanting with him throughout the day. Mother would put an end to this.
“Amber, I am not going to take care of your daughter while you run around out there. Do you think I was born yesterday? Don't insult my intelligence like that!”
Yes, Amber was a young mother; her one-year-old daughter, Trista, left fatherless because the young man was not ready to accept responsibility. And neither was Amber in Mother's eyes. Her most important obligation in life was to be a mother, not abandon her child throughout the day to gallivant with some boy.
Mother was being unfairly harsh with her assumption. Amber loved Trista as much as any mother would love her child. The guilt of leaving her baby throughout the day ate away at Amber's soul. In all those hours spent with Paulette, she worried and thought so much of her own daughter. How she wished she could have brought Trista with during the day.
Mother would provide the necessary jolt to make this wish a reality. “Amber, I am no longer watching Trista throughout the day. I offered to watch her so you can take classes, not for you to take advantage of me. And we'll see how long this boy stays around when the most important thing in your life is suddenly included in the picture.”
The last thing Amber was going to do was inform Mother of her daily activities. Instead, she appeared disappointed and walked off with Trista for some much-needed mother and child time.
On Thursday morning, just like in previous mornings, Amber left her house at 6:30. But this time little Trista sat in the backseat. If all went according to plan, she would accompany Mommy at work.
Today would be another test for Michael. Amber stepped over many obstacles, just to somehow be part of his life. Would Michael do the same and forgive her for being not-so forthcoming?
Amber was an ethereal woman, a dreamer who pursued her many wishes. Often in life she relentlessly pursued those dreams, regardless of any cost or consequence. Any damage or destruction that was caused would surely be corrected. These corrections were often planned out in fantasy.
Amber stood at the front door of the Dickly castle with Trista in one arm and a mommy's necessity bag in the other.
Michael soon answered the door. Needless to say, he was surprised with the presence of the child. “Hi! Who's this?”
Amber broke down in tears. “I'm sorry; I was dishonest with you. She's my daughter. I didn't say anything to you at first.”
It was strange talk for Michael, all the apologizing. “Whoa, whoa; what do you mean? This is your daughter?” He quickly pulled the mother and child in the house for it was a cold morning in Sillmac.
“Yes, my mother isn't going to watch her anymore. I don't know what else to do.”
Michael smiled at the child, “Well she's pretty.”
Cute, little Trista turned and hid her face against Mommy's shoulder; such a bashful child in the sudden presence of a stranger.
Michael continued speaking to Amber, “Well, I don't have a problem with your little one being here. As long as you think you can do both jobs. It'll be nice to have… what did you say her name was?”
“Trista.”
“Trista… such a pretty name. Trista would be a welcome addition. The more, the merrier! Paulette ought to really like her!”
As the minutes passed, and Trista was set on the ground to get acclimated to her new environment, Michael began to speak of his and Linsey's reason for having only one child. “We almost lost Paulette, not once, but twice. Linsey miscarried three times before she was pregnant with Paulette. And at one point, it almost looked like Paulette would be the fourth miscarriage. Needless to say, Linsey could no longer take the emotional turmoil of losing babies. After Paulette, we decided not to try for any more. We considered adoption; but after Paulette's accident, Linsey had her hands plenty full.”
And so Amber continued to work at the Dickly Castle. She was a regular house wife; getting Paulette ready for the day, making breakfast for what appeared to be her own family and then caring for Trista and Paulette throughout the day.
One might have considered Trista to be an angelic child. She was quiet and not much of a bother. Of course a child at that age certainly has her moments. Trista would sometimes toddle around the family room or grand foyer, and then fall on her bottom or crack her head against the wall. Crying would follow, of course. And there were moments when she grew fussy and cried some. But overall, Trista was a joy to have in the Dickly castle; and something new to put a smile on Paulette's face.
But Amber was getting impatient. When would the moment finally come when she and Michael grew closer together? They shared a destiny; and Amber was to be so much more than a caretaker.
Throughout the days, Michael remained upstairs, behind closed doors in his office. He made phone calls and worked on finances or reports. But there were many hou
rs when non-work related activities were done.
It began by creating what could be considered a death mask of Linsey's statue-head. A thin cloth was placed over Linsey's statue-face so that Plaster of Paris could be applied in the exact same way of creating the original mask.
While doing this, Michael reassured his deceased wife, “Don't worry, Linsey. I'll be extra careful with this… Almost dried, then you can go rest some more.”
The second mask would certainly lack the resolution and fine detail of Linsey's original mask. It was only a copy, something to destroy once its purpose had been fulfilled. For you see, Michael could not afford experimenting with Linsey's statue-head while finding the proper flesh-colored paint that would reflect the soft, pink coloring of Linsey's face. When the perfect colors had been found, Michael would finally apply these to Linsey's original statue-head.
The second mask was built up into a full head so that Michael could begin testing various paints. He stood outside on the office balcony, spray painting the copied statue in various places until the perfect blend of sprays produced Linsey's exact coloring.
When the perfect blend had been found, the nerve-racking task of spray painting Linsey's original statue-face underwent. At some point, Michael thought he had ruined his wife's face, forever! The colors weren't blending as well as before, and he nearly broke down in tears. It was pink that needed to be applied first, and then peach. A few layers of spray corrected the original flaw. When fully dried, Linsey's blush was applied. Finally, the work was fully complete; and Michael was satisfied with the result.
* * *
It was a Wednesday afternoon at two o'clock, nearly a week before Thanksgiving. Amber and Paulette sat in the family room, watching trashy talk shows that showcased the lives of trailer park America. Trista lay napping on the loveseat.
Michael carefully descended the staircase and into the foyer while carrying Linsey's statue-head. As he approached the family room, Paulette noticed Father and soon the statue-head in his arms. The statue-head was too real! It was so real, in fact, that it looked as though Father had simply decapitated Mother and carried her head into the family room.
The Death Mask Page 5
