The Death Mask

by Tom Raimbault

  Paulette returned a pouty look.

  “You've been giving me attitude since I came in your room this morning. I said I was sorry for being late. I know it had to be uncomfortable to wait for the bathroom, and I feel bad. So are you going to dwell on this for the rest of the day?”

  Amber could feel Paulette's need to lunge from the bathtub and tear her to shreds. It was time to nip this in the bud. In no way could Paulette destroy the romance that had finally ignited between Amber and Michael. Amber would speak with the girl's father, alone.

  Once the pouty and very, bitter Paulette had been dressed and her hair blow-dried; Amber carried her own daughter out of the room and shut the door behind. Michael was already up, as evidenced by the smell of coffee that brewed in the kitchen.

  She lightly bounced down the stairs with Trista in her arm and then turned towards the kitchen. Amber greeted her lover, “Good morning!”

  “Hey, good morning! Where's Paulette?”

  Now don't think for one second that Amber would have made up a wicked lie about Paulette. She hated lying, and there was no reason to do so. In her world, Amber truly felt that something important needed to be mentioned to Michael. Amber met Michaels query with a serious look, indicating a problem. “Well, I thought I should call this to your attention. Obviously, Paulette is aware that I spent the night here and doesn't like it.”

  Michael was surprised, “What?”

  “Michael, if looks could kill! I think she has some jealousy, which I totally understand. Yesterday she asked me if I was hitting on you and stuff. She knows what's happening between us, Michael. I don't want to get between you and your daughter…”

  Michael quickly interrupted, “Hey, hey; she's not going to get between us. Some things have obviously changed between you and me and it's time I have a talk with Paulette. Could you take the rest of the day off? I'm going to have some alone time with her.”

  Alone time? That could go in either direction. Amber had no choice but to agree, “Sure…”

  Michael smiled, “Don't worry; you'll get holiday pay, and maybe a little bonus.”

  * * *

  It's important to understand that back at home, Amber's mother and father were clueless of their daughter's activities. They had no idea that she was spending time with the wealthiest man in Sillmac—probably the wealthiest man in the entire state. They had no idea that the owner of the ever-expanding Dickly's hardware was in love with their daughter. Furthermore, Mother and Father had no idea of Amber's whereabouts for over twenty-four hours.

  As soon as the opened door produced Amber's presence with Trista in her arms, Mother immediately jumped up. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Sorry, I spent the night at my boyfriend's.”

  Mother nearly shrieked out of rage, “Without calling us? Without letting us know where you were? And you missed Thanksgiving dinner with all your relatives? We thought something was wrong! And you have Trista with you? Amber, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  Amber remained calm, “Sorry, Mom; I should have called.”

  Father entered the room. For him, it was the day after Thanksgiving, a floating holiday provided by the company. But he had been equally as worried as Mother. “Where have you been young lady?”

  “At my boyfriend's; I spent the night.”

  “Spent the night? With your kid there?” He looked at Mother, shook his head and then exhaled his pent-up frustration before continuing. “Alright, that's enough of this crap! Things are going to change around here! I don't like what I'm seeing!” He turned back towards Mother, “You want to tell her about the new rules here at home?”

  Amber was certainly an adult, and too old to be grounded. But just like many young adults in their early twenties who live at home while appearing unemployed or not in school, it was necessary to dictate guidelines. It was time to lay down some rules for the irresponsible, young woman who appeared to do nothing more than come and go as she pleased while making babies.

  Mother announced her unorganized list of rules that she and Father created while discussing the recent observations of their twenty-two-year-old daughter. "As long as you are living in this house and raising my granddaughter, you will not run around with some boy all day long and come home when you please.

  You will get a job and pay us rent. If you want to seriously consider going to school, we can talk about that.

  As far as staying out all night with Trista, you now have a curfew. We want you home right after work; none of this business of staying out until ten o'clock the next morning!

  And you will tell us exactly where you are going! It's time you act like a responsible adult and mother."

  Father interrupted. “Can I just ask where you are for ten hours a day with your kid?”

  Amber sighed and finally let the truth known, “I'm working, Dad.”

  This didn't make sense to Father. “Working… with Trista?” It must have been another lie.

  “Yes, Dad; I take care of a paralyzed girl throughout the day.”

  This story was becoming more interesting by the second. “Since when?”

  “It's Michael Dickly, Dad. He hired me to take care of his daughter after his wife died.”

  “Michael Dickly, president of Dickly's Hardware store?”

  “Yes…”

  Like a cat just seconds from pouncing its prey, Mother approached Amber in disbelief, “How did you get involved in that?”

  “I went to her funeral and met Michael. And remember the day I made braciole for a friend? I made it for Michael and brought it to his house and had dinner with him. He asked if I wanted to take care of his daughter.”

  One could have nearly seen the steam pouring out of Mother's head at that moment. “You went to that woman's funeral and met her husband?”

  Father asked, “Well how much is he paying you to do that?”

  “A thousand dollars a week…”

  This new knowledge of Amber's mysterious activities and whereabouts put a whole, new spin on things. Amber wasn't an irresponsible, young woman who appeared to do nothing more than come and go as she pleased while making babies. She was something else in Mother's eyes.

  Mother hauled off and smacked her child across the face. “You're nothing but a gold-digging tramp! You wait for a rich man's wife to die, and then introduce yourself at the funeral! You invite yourself into his home, pretending to offer a home-cooked meal! You seduce him and spend the night at his house on Thanksgiving! And now you're taking his money?” Another sharp slap was given across Amber's face “I'll see to it that Mr. Dickly gets his money back, and apologize for my daughter's trampy behavior! And don't you dare go back there!”

  The wrongful accusations, painful slaps to the cheek and the frustration of being treated like a child brought Amber to tears. “Mom, you can't do that!”

  “I'll do whatever I damn well please as long as you live under my roof!”

  * * *

  It was now the evening of Black Friday. Retail stores closed their doors and battered shoppers returned home with nearly maxed out credit cards. As for Amber, she sat on her bed while little Trista slept soundly in her crib. It had been nearly forty-eight hours of intense emotions for Amber. Much time was spent with Michael, falling in love on Thanksgiving. She woke up nearly hung over Friday morning from the previous day's excessive eating, excessive wine and late night passion. Paulette could have murdered her with the belief that Father had been seduced. And then Amber had to be slapped and accused of horrible things that just weren't true.

  Poor Amber: nearly in tears from a surge of conflicting emotions. It wasn't Amber's fault that Michael was wealthy. She only wished for a man that needed her love in a dark moment. If this man earned a modest salary, Amber would have loved him just the same. For you see, Amber existed in a different world where material things were of little importance. Only true love mattered to Amber. Was this not what Mother taught her early in life?

  Where was her true love? Only
Michael could have taken the sadness away at that moment. Amber needed to hear his voice; hear that the wrongful accusations of Mother were not true. He was her prince that could have rescued and saved her from this low state. But why hadn't he called? It was nine o'clock in the evening. Did he have second thoughts of Amber? Did Paulette make up some wicked lie? Or maybe Michael decided it was best to cool it with Amber for the sake of his daughter?

  Such was the regular misfortune in Amber's life. It was why she remained a dreamer. Sometimes Amber truly felt that she had only her fantasies to live on. As she sat on the bed with her knees pulled to her chest while gazing through the window at the starry sky, teardrops rolled from her cheeks and onto her knee. How could he abandon her this way? What right did he have to play with her heart, build up her hopes and then leave her alone at such a dark moment? Amber was there for Michael in his darkest moment, befriending his daughter and filling the home with a loving presence. And what did she have for it in return? She was sent home to Mother for a slap to the face and to be called a tramp.

  Well Amber was too good to be treated this way! She deserved every bit of truth at that moment and decided to call Michael's home. She had his number from the phonebook, found on the day after Linsey's funeral when Amber visited the Dickly castle with braciole.

  Only two callout rings were necessary to produce the sound of Michael's voice, “Hello?”

  Amber's lips quivered as her eyes flooded with tears. “Michael?”

  “Yeah, hi!”

  “How come you haven't called me?”

  There was a brief pause, “Well, you never gave me your number, silly. You're not listed in the phonebook, either. I've been waiting for you to call!” Before you think it was a lie of Michael's, keep in mind that this was 1994. The phonebook was pretty much the only immediate source of looking for a person. The internet was a challenging thing to maneuver, if you happened to be one of only ten million people familiar with it. Google was two years into the future, and nearly a decade to develop into what it is today.

  How silly of Amber! Of course! She had simply gone to his house every Monday through Friday. There was never a reason to call Michael or for him to call her. Up until yesterday, she was only an employee who reported to work.

  “Oh, I'm sorry!” Now Amber was nearly embarrassed with a possible display of immature behavior. Did she sound like a little girl in that moment?

  “That's okay; it was just a silly misunderstanding. I've been waiting to hear from you all day. I had a nice, long, heart-to-heart talk with Paulette. She understands everything, and she's sorry for how she acted.”

  It was such an emotional day for Amber. Floods of tears came from her eyes as she found it necessary to lift the microphone end of the handset away from her mouth. She couldn't let sniffles be heard on Michael's end. Everything was fine between her, Michael and Paulette. Mother was wrong; people truly loved and had respect for Amber. How glad she was to have called Michael!

  “Are you crying?” The nasal voice was impossible to disguise.

  “Yes, I'm sorry. My mom and dad kind of yelled at me when I came home. I should have called yesterday to tell them I was spending the night.”

  “Uh oh; they're mad that you spent the night at my place?”

  “Yes…” More tears streamed down her cheeks. “They don't want me to see you anymore.”

  “No! I need you! I was going to wait until the next time I see you, but I need to make some business trips in the upcoming weeks. I need you to stay here and take care of Paulette while I'm gone.”

  Stay at the Dickly castle? Act as the woman in charge while her man was gone on business? It was the next best thing to being Michael Dickly's wife! Amber certainly couldn't turn down such an offer!

  Chapter Nine

  Not a day could be wasted! Living at the Dickly castle would begin the Saturday after Black Friday. Michael would leave for his first trip on the first of December. In 1994, that would have come on the following Thursday. Amber needed to quickly be situated and set up for a more permanent residence at the Dickly castle. Aside from that, Amber was no longer simply Paulette's caretaker who visited Monday through Friday. Amber was Michael's lover, and there was no reason to spend weekends apart.

  And there was no need to obey over-controlling Mother! Amber walked out the door on Saturday morning with Trista in her arms while Mother and Father slept. She would call later in the week to patch things up with Mother; but for now, Amber had her own family to take care of.

  Amber was a very, intelligent, young woman. She knew that Michael had an underlying cause for trusting her to care for Paulette while he traveled. Michael was in love with Amber, and wished to test her ability to be alone with Paulette. In fact, this test was probably mentioned by Michael during his father and daughter talk. Paulette would report any wrongdoings or mistreating to Father. But Amber didn't worry about that. As she planned, Amber and Paulette would have so much fun together in those weeks alone. Amber would be Paulette's best friend; her older sister; even her adopted mother.

  Michael opened the front door before Amber knocked. “Good morning!”

  “Good morning!”

  “We'll get you a key; no need to knock anymore.”

  A couple sweet kisses were exchanged once Amber and Trista had been let in. And after Trista was set on the floor to toddle and explore her environment, Michael embraced Amber for some deeper, loving kisses. He briefly pulled away, “I wouldn't blow you off. Is that what you thought last night?”

  Amber shrugged her shoulders.

  Michael noticed a barely-noticeable red mark near Amber's left eye. “What happened? Is that a welt or something?”

  “Yeah, my mom slapped me.”

  “She slapped you? That's child abuse.” Then he smiled and kissed Amber some more. “I'm glad you're staying here. It means a lot to me.”

  Although in love with Amber, Michael wasn't ready to have her sleep in his bed with him. For one, Linsey slept with Michael each night. There were pictures of Linsey on both sides of the bed. And Michael enjoyed his moments in the evening when he and Linsey talked about the business, Paulette and other family matters. Amber assumed that this was the reason and had no problem agreeing to sleep in the guest bedroom. But she also assumed that through time, the guest bedroom would become Trista's bedroom as Mommy would eventually sleep with the man whose name would become Daddy.

  But before anything else was dreamed or imagined, Amber had some serious business that needed attention. It was five minutes after seven o'clock in the morning. Paulette was surely awake for the day.

  Alone, Amber entered Paulette's room and carefully greeted the girl who would surely become her adopted daughter. “Hi…”

  Paulette only looked at Amber as she approached her bed. When near, Amber bent over and hugged her. “I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry about yesterday.” She pulled away and continued to lightly comb her fingers through Paulette's hair. “I told you there would be challenges. Yesterday was just one of them. I want you to know that I will take very, good care of you and your father. I won't do anything to harm you, okay?”

  Paulette remained expressionless—forgiveness; trust; maybe fear?

  While washing Paulette in the tub, Amber spoke of the planned activities during those weeks when Michael was away on business. “I'm going to have your father show me how to use the chairlift for the van. We'll get out of here throughout the week, do some shopping and have lunch. The holidays are here. Downtown Sillmac is totally lit up with the Christmas tree in the center of town. We'll have a lot of fun; just you, me and Trista.”

  That Saturday was 180 degrees from the previous day. Treated like a child only twenty-four hours ago, Amber was now the woman of the Dickly castle who prepared breakfast for her family. And there was no reason to disguise the feelings towards her man. Michael had no problem giving a friendly kiss to Amber as he entered the kitchen. They all sat down and had their breakfast. And of course, Paulette was fed before Amber ate.
Such is one of the many sacrifices of a loving mother.

  Amber maintained the practice of preparing tea at 1:45 in the afternoon. For as she, Paulette and Trista lounged in the family room some time after lunch; Linsey would come downstairs with Michael for afternoon tea. It was during this Saturday teatime, the day after Black Friday, when Amber announced to Michael that she would like to take Paulette on afternoon outings while Michael was gone away on business.

  The candlelight flickered along Linsey's face as she appeared a bit concerned with Amber's suggestion. Could Amber really handle the paralyzed girl out in public?

  Michael noticed his wife's concern, “Linsey my dear, I think Amber is capable of taking Paulette on outings.” Then he turned his attention back to Amber. “I'll have to show you how to use the chairlift on the van. And that's totally easy; just lower it and wheel Paulette in. Securing her is the important thing. What do you think, Paulette? Would you like that?”

  Paulette eagerly nodded in agreement.

  * * *

  Hopefully there would be many cuddly evenings with Michael after Paulette and Trista had gone to bed. The two sat beside one another under the soft glow of dimmed family room light. In the distance, Linsey flickered as she sat on one of the side tables.

  Michael suggested, “Well, we don't have to polish off a bottle of wine every night. But it's Saturday night. Why don't I pull a bottle of Pinot Noir from the cellar and we can all share a glass?”

  How could Amber turn down his suggestion? “Sure…”

  While Michael paid a visit to the wine cellar, Amber occasionally glanced at Linsey. Would she always be there in the background of Amber's life? Would Linsey always share the bottle of wine between her and Michael? Three was such an awkward number as there are four glasses in a bottle, perfect for lovers to enjoy just the right amount of two glasses on a romantic evening like this. How long would Amber have to adore the statue-head of a woman that was deceased?