CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I DON’T LIKE THAT!” Tiki jabbed her index finger at the breakfast plate that the waiter had just brought her from the kitchen.
So much for her first day of work. Kathy hadn’t been here an hour and Tiki was already in rebellion. She sat with the child at a small table in the rear of her playroom, where she ate her meals. Kathy had spent the short amount of time she’d been there acquainting herself with the little girl, her habits, her likes and dislikes.
Where was Sophie? Kathy hadn’t had time to look for her, and suspected she was probably back in the bedroom area.
Looking at the uninspiring scrambled eggs and thinly sliced bacon with some french-fried potatoes, Kathy didn’t blame her for her disinterest.
“Is there anything you do like there, Tiki?” She pointed to the plate in front of the child.
Poking at the rubbery bacon, she said, “This. I like this.” Tiki quickly grabbed a strip and started to eat it.
“Whoa, kiddo. This is knife-and-fork time….” Kathy took the meat out of her hands. Smiling patiently, she wiped off the girl’s mouth and fingers. “Now, I know your other nanny taught you manners. You’re a young lady and you need to use good table manners.” She picked up the fork and placed it in Tiki’s hand, the knife in the other. The girl scowled. Getting up, Kathy positioned herself behind the child and guided her to cut up her meat. Tiki seemed mollified by this attention and mimicked her directions.
Though worried when Tiki still ate only a few ounces of meat, and drank only soda pop, not milk, Kathy gave up on coaxing her to eat more. She thanked Mateo, the nervous-looking servant, who whisked away the un-eaten portions.
She was still sitting with Tiki at the table when she heard a child crying softly. It had to be Sophie. Frowning, Kathy turned and cocked her ear toward the faint sounds.
“Tiki? Do you hear that? Who’s crying?” she asked as she patted the little girl’s bow mouth with a napkin.
“Oh, that’s Sophie. She cries all the time.”
“Really? Can you show me where Sophie’s bedroom is?”
Tiki scooted off her chair and over to a door on the other side of the room. “Sure!”
Kathy followed, keeping her expression neutral.
“Sophie’s here,” she said, stretching and pushing open the door. Tiki then ran across the hall and stood proudly in front of another door.
“This is my room!” The girl bounded inside.
Peeking in, Kathy smiled and said, “Yes, it is. And a very nice room it is.” It was a simple room with a twin bed, one window with iron bars across it and lots of toys, especially blond-haired Barbie dolls scattered helter-skelter across the freshly made bed. Kathy made a mental note to teach Tiki about taking responsibility for her bedroom.
In Kathy’s opinion, the room was nondescript. Tiki didn’t have personal identification with her room. What did she like? What were her favorite colors? Tucking those questions away, Kathy turned and walked back across the hall to the door where the crying was coming from. At the end of the short corridor was another camera high on the ceiling.
“Let’s knock gently on Sophie’s door, shall we?” she asked.
“Sure!” Tiki moved to the door. “She’s always sad.” She knocked politely on the door. The sobbing continued.
“Really?” Kathy didn’t dare let on she knew about the kidnapping. “Why is that, Tiki?” Kathy opened the door to Sophie’s room.
Tiki moved inside, looking worried. “They took her away from her mama and papa.”
“Oh?” Kathy feigned surprise as she walked into the room. There, on a twin bed near the window, sat little blond-haired Sophie. She was dressed in a crumpled white nightgown, her long hair uncombed and hanging in snarls about her shoulders. Instantly, Kathy’s heart went out to the child whose eyes were red and swollen from crying.
“Get out!” Sophie shrilled at them. She raised her hands and made a dismissing motion. “Go away! I don’t want you in here, Tiki!”
Crouching down, Kathy brought Tiki into her arms. “Do you want to go rock on your horsey for a while? Let me get Sophie dressed. I’ll join you in a few minutes. Okay?”
Nodding, Tiki looked worriedly at Sophie. “She cries all the time, Dolly.”
Kathy knew that to Tiki she would always be Dolly. That was fine. Smiling gently, she smoothed some of Tiki’s dark bangs away from her scrunched up brows. “Let me talk with Sophie and let’s see if we can help her. It’s always good to try and help others, Tiki.”
“Okay.” Tiki moved out of her arms and went back to her play area.
Kathy scanned the room and saw another damnable video camera. She would have to be careful how she spoke to Sophie. Slowly rising to her full height and wiping her damp palms against her slacks, Kathy moved toward the bed and halted a few feet away from the child.
“Hi, Sophie. My name is Katherine Lincoln. I take care of Tiki. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Sophie glared up at her and wiped her cheeks with quick, angry swipes. “No! I hate you! I hate all of you!”
Kathy saw the fear and deep sadness in the child’s blue eyes. “Do you mind if I sit here for a moment, Sophie?” She patted the end of her unmade bed. Sophie must have awakened earlier, but stayed in her room, crying. That broke Kathy’s heart.
“I don’t care,” Sophie muttered defiantly.
Kathy sat down on the bed. “It’s 10:00 a.m., Sophie. Would you like me to help you get dressed for the day? Or do you like wearing your nightgown all the time?”
Looking down, Sophie touched the wrinkled white material. “I don’t care…I don’t care….”
“If I choose something from your dresser over there, can I help you get changed?” Kathy pointed to the beautiful antique dresser made out of burnished teak.
Shrugging, Sophie whispered, “I don’t care….”
Kathy eased off the bed and walked over to the dresser. From the drawers she chose a pair of denim coveralls and a bright yellow T-shirt. Kathy found a pair of orange socks and white tennis shoes and came back over to the bed.
“Do you want to dress by yourself, Sophie? Or do you want me to help you?” Her heart bled for the girl, who was obviously suffering deeply from the kidnapping. Was this how her older brother, Jason, had felt? Sophie was depressed, her hair unkempt, her face swollen from constant crying. Had Jason pined away like this in that villa in Hawaii? Had he cried endlessly like Sophie? He rarely talked about that time in his life, and now Kathy was having her eyes opened as to what he’d endured.
“I can do it,” Sophie muttered, and pulled the clothes from her hand. “My mommy taught me how to dress.”
“Good,” Kathy said. She watched as Sophie got rid of the nightgown. Alarmed at how thin the girl was, with every rib pronounced, Kathy gulped. She kept her tone reasonable and soft. “Are you hungry, Sophie?”
“No.” She quickly put on the T-shirt, shimmied into the coveralls and pulled the ankle socks on her feet.
Kathy handed her each small tennis shoe, which she diligently put on. She even tied the strings into a nice, neat little bow.
“Would you like me to fix your hair?” Kathy asked. She got a brush from the bathroom.
Shrugging, Sophie sat on the edge of the bed, her long legs dangling over it. “I don’t care.”
Seeing just a glimmer of light in the child’s blue eyes, Kathy smiled and gently sat down next to her. “Well, I think you’re a very beautiful young girl and if you’ll let me, I’ll put your hair into braids.” Sophie had long, fine blond hair.
“Tiki always pulls my hair. And it hurts.”
Kathy carefully began to brush out the snarls in Sophie’s hair. “She does?”
“Yes, she likes my blond hair. She keeps trying to pull it out and put it on her own head. I keep telling her she’ll never have my color of hair.”
“I see,” Kathy said. Little by little, Sophie was warming up to her. “Maybe she’s just trying to make friends with
you.”
“But she hurts me. That’s why I stay in here. I don’t want her pulling my hair.” Sniffing, Sophie wailed, “I want to go home. I miss my mommy and daddy. Why won’t they let me go home?” The child buried her face in her small hands and sobbed.
Heart breaking, Kathy brought Sophie into her arms and rocked her back and forth. She couldn’t say anything that would give away her mission and she was afraid the guards might see the contempt in her expression. Closing her eyes, Kathy held the sobbing girl until she calmed down. Once she’d dried Sophie’s tears, she continued to work on her hair until it was straight and unsnarled. She set the brush aside and made a single braid down the back of her head. Then she arranged it on top of her head with a barrette.
“There, I think we have your hair up,” Kathy said with a slight laugh. “Go over to the mirror and look, Sophie. Tell me what you think.”
Sliding off the bed, the girl dejectedly did as requested. She looked at herself in the mirror and shrugged. “It looks okay. Thanks.”
Kathy got off the bed and went over to her. “Are you ready for an adventure, Sophie?”
“Adventure?” she asked, looking up at her.
“Sure. I have an idea, but I need you and Tiki to help me with it. Are you game? Do you want to play?”
“Well, Tiki will pull my hair and it hurts.”
“No, she won’t,” Kathy promised with a smile. “I won’t let her, okay?”
Standing there, Sophie looked around. She held on to Kathy’s hand a little more tightly. “You’re different.”
“Oh?” Kathy saw hope suddenly burn in Sophie’s eyes, the sadness replaced.
“The other lady didn’t care if I sat in here all day. She just left me alone. A man would bring in the meals, but I didn’t feel like eating.”
“I see,” Kathy murmured. “Well, that’s over now. Come on. Let’s pick up Tiki and go on our adventure, okay?” She saw the girl’s blue eyes clear of the ever-present tears. As she slowly drew Sophie out of the bedroom and down the hall, Kathy felt her heart wrench with anger and sadness over the child’s abduction. Compressing her lips, she dipped her head to hide her expression. This mission wasn’t turning out anything like she’d planned. It was out of her control and heading in directions she’d never thought possible.
WHEN KATHY APPEARED in the immaculate kitchen, the head chef, a Frenchman by the name of Denis Franchot, hurried up to her. He had a look of stunned disbelief and wariness written across his thin, narrow face.
“Mademoiselle?” he queried. “How may I or my staff help you?” Distrustfully, he eyed Tiki, who stood at Kathy’s side.
Thankful for her years of studying French, Kathy introduced herself and the two girls in the chef’s native tongue. “Chef Franchot, I need your help with my two charges. I would like to go through your refrigerators with them and find out what kinds of food they like or don’t like.”
“But you speak flawless French!” the chef declared.
“Thank you,” Kathy said, smiling. “You’re very kind to say so.” She looked at the girls. “Chef Franchot, I’m sure you know they aren’t eating much, but I have an idea of how to get them to eat more, with your help, of course.”
She saw the chef’s eyes light up with joy. “Oui, but of course, mademoiselle! I, too, am worried about them. I have tried everything, but they have turned it away.” He gave a very French shrug, but seemed genuinely concerned.
Kathy knew the French felt their cooking was the best in the world. “I’m sure you have done everything you could. I’ve tasted your cooking and I’ve loved it.”
The chef glowed over her compliment and bowed his head. “Thank you, mademoiselle. Those are words that make my heart sing. I live to create beautiful food that makes people joyous to consume it.”
“May we sit at one of the tables where you chop up your veggies?”
“But of course!” Chef Franchot snapped his fingers. Instantly, servants hurried over to find three chairs for them. In moments, Kathy had the girls positioned at the wooden table. The sous-chefs moved to another part of the kitchen, where they prepared lunch and the evening meal. Once they had the space to themselves, Kathy opened one of the walk-in refrigerators and retrieved some vegetables.
“Okay, girls,” she told them, “this is our adventure.” She spread at least ten different vegetables in front of them. “Now, since I’m new here, I need to know what you do and don’t like. Tiki, you first. You take the veggies that you like and put them in front of you.”
Grinning, Tiki quickly grabbed a few. “I like this game!”
“I do, too.” Kathy turned to Sophie. “Your turn.”
Sophie glumly chose five other vegetables.
Kathy wrote down all the information in a small notebook she carried in her pocket. After asking the servants to return the veggies to the refrigerator, Kathy went and retrieved several kinds of fresh fruit. She laid them out on the table. This time, Tiki didn’t wait. She quickly lined up four of them in front of her and gave Kathy a glowing look of triumph. “These are mine! I like these!”
“Very good,” Kathy exclaimed, writing them down. “Your turn, Sophie.”
Sophie nodded and delicately picked out her favorites.
By the end of a half hour, Kathy had all the staff in the kitchen assisting her with smiles and laughter. The two little girls, who were the stars of this adventure, loved the attention from the staff. Even Chef Franchot came over with an armload of spices and joined them. Kathy praised him for his idea and Franchot glowed.
Kathy had each girl open a spice jar and smell it. If they liked the fragrance, they kept it in front of them. If they didn’t, they placed the bottle in the center of the table. Further inspired by the fun, one of the sous-chefs, a Frenchman named Philippe, brought over a large tray filled with different garnishes. Tiki squealed with delight over the rainbow of colors on the plate. Sophie even took some interest as the sous-chef placed it with dramatic grace on the table between them. Both girls eagerly picked their favorites from the plate, and Kathy recorded the information.
Next came drinks. Kathy instructed the servants to bring over small paper cups filled with a beverage, so each girl could sip and choose. Tiki giggled nonstop, completely wrapped up in the adventure. Sophie gave Kathy a hopeful smile, which made her day.
“No one has ever done this before,” the chef confided excitedly to Kathy after she’d helped the children off the chairs.
“These girls need to eat more,” she told him.
“Oui, this is true. And it has been a great concern to all of us, especially the patrón.”
Kathy could read between the lines on that one. She was sure the chef was worried that, one day, Garcia would kill him if he didn’t get Tiki to eat. “I think I have a way to get them to eat, sir, but I’ll need your help.” Kathy smiled. “I hope my idea will inspire the girls to want to eat their meals.”
“Ohh,” Franchot whispered, “if you can perform such a miracle, mademoiselle, I will thank you endlessly from the bottom of my heart.”
Kathy was sure he would. “Once I get the girls back to the playroom, I’ll come show you what to fix for their dinner tonight.”
FOR THE EVENING MEAL, as well as the others, Kathy knew that the girls ate in their part of the villa, while the adults supped in another part. It was 8:00 p.m., the day nearly gone, as she worked with the kitchen staff. After finding out Tiki’s favorite colors, Kathy had gone in search of a seamstress earlier today to create a brightly colored tablecloth for the table. The orange, red and yellow were bright, happy colors. Tiki, particularly, was excited about the upcoming meal because Kathy had bet both girls that they would want to eat all the food on their plates.
Once Tiki and Sophie were seated, with white linen napkins in their laps, Kathy signaled for Mateo, their server, to bring in the meals. Grinning, the male staffer pushed the dinner cart to the table. Two huge silver hoods covered the plates, which increased the level of anticipation. Kathy
chuckled as she witnessed both girls growing impatient.
“Quick!” Tiki said, pointing to the cart. “Let me see!”
Kathy nodded her thanks to Mateo, took the plate and set it in front of the girl. “Okay, here you go. One of your favorite meals—spaghetti!” Kathy lifted off the silver hood with a flourish.
Tiki gasped and clapped. She instantly grabbed her fork and dug in to her meal. The chef had created a round hamburger patty with red marinara sauce. To add some fun, he had placed two green olives for eyes and a strand of spaghetti for a smile. For hair, the chef had used more spaghetti. The effect was cute and dramatic.
Kathy brought Sophie’s dinner to her and lifted the hood. The sad little girl perked up.
“Wow! This is cool!” Sophie picked up her own fork. Kathy had learned that she hated hamburger but loved roast beef. The sous-chef had created a horse head of sliced beef, kernels of yellow corn for the forelock and mane, a black olive for an eye and a ring of mashed potatoes with red pimentos as a flower wreath around the horse’s neck.
The staffer and Kathy smiled at each other as they placed the hoods back on the cart.
“Would you go ahead and serve their milk, Mateo?” Kathy asked him.
Kathy knew that neither girl liked milk. And of course, growing children needed calcium for strong bones. She’d consulted with Philippe, the sous-chef, and he had made chocolate milk with a bit of whipped cream and a cherry on top. When Mateo set the drinks in front of them, both girls grabbed their glasses and started drinking.
Kathy watched them and felt a deep contentment. “Well?” she said to Tiki. “What do you think? Did Chef Franchot do good or what?” Tiki looked, her mouth full, and tried to talk. Kathy smiled. “It’s okay, Tiki, one doesn’t speak with food in their mouth. Just say yes or no.” Tiki nodded dramatically.
The server seemed stunned as the girls rapidly gulped down their food.
“Please tell Chef Franchot and his staff that they did well,” Kathy said.
“Oh, I will, Señorita Lincoln. I will! This is wonderful!”
“And you’ll bring dessert, Mateo?”
Enemy Mine Page 16
