Orphans 01 Butterfly Read online

  "Stop sniveling, Mildred, and meet our daughter, Janet," Celine said sharply and then her voice softened. "And Janet, this is our maid, Mildred Stemple."

  "How do you do," Mildred said with a small dip. When she smiled, her features shifted and she actually looked pretty. "Call me Milly."

  "She will not," Celine corrected quickly. "Her name is Mildred," she told me firmly.

  Mildred's smile wilted.

  "Hello . . . Mildred," I said, not wanting to make waves.

  "I was making sure her room was clean and ready, Mrs. Delorice," Mildred said, continuing her explanation for not coming to the front door.

  "You're always leaving things for the last minute, Mildred. I don't know why I keep you. We'll have an early dinner tonight. You have the turkey roasting, I assume?"

  "Oh yes, Mrs. Delorice."

  "Well, see to getting the rest ready," Celine ordered.

  Mildred glanced at me, smiled quickly, and left. "That," Celine said, raising her eyes to the ceiling, "is my act of charity. Anyway, back to what I was saying. Madame Malisorf will be here the day after tomorrow to meet you."

  "The day after tomorrow?"

  "We don't want to waste time, dear. In dance, especially ballet, training is so important. I wish I had found you when you were years younger. It would have been easier, but don't fret about it. You're at a perfect age. You'll begin with a sequence of exercises to build up your precious little muscles. There is always a great deal of stretching and warming up to prevent injury. You'll learn how to use the barre."

  "Barre?"

  "The bar there is known as a barre," she said and spelled it out. "All the terms in ballet are French. Ballet began in France. You use the barre to steady yourself during the first part of ballet class. It provides resistance when you press down on it and helps to lengthen the spine." She laughed. "Think of it as your first partner. I used to give my barre a name. I called it Pierre," she said with a perfect French pronunciation. "I'm sure you'll find a suitable name for your first partner, too."

  I gazed through the doorway at the barre, wondering how I could ever think of it as a person.

  "Come along, dear. We have so much to do. I need to have you fitted for pointe shoes and buy you leotards first thing in the morning."

  "What about school?" I asked. She kept wheeling and then paused at the foot of the stairway.

  "Don't worry. I'm enrolling you in a private school. We can do that later. First things first," she said. She started to move into the chairlift.

  First things first? But wouldn't my schooling be the first thing?

  "Let me help you, darling," Sanford called as he came down the stairs.

  "I'm fine," she said slipping into the lift chair. She pressed a button and it began to move up the railing. I watched her for a moment. She looked radiant and excited as she rose above us.

  "How wonderful," Sanford declared at my side. "Just your coming here has already filled her with new strength. We're blessed to have you, my dear."

  I gazed up at him and wondered what I had done to bring such happiness to two people who only hours ago had been complete strangers. I couldn't help being afraid that they had mistaken me for someone else.

  Three

  When I stood in the doorway of the room that was to be my very own, I felt my mouth fall open. Never in any of my most wonderful fantasies could I have imagined a room as beautiful as this, or as big as this, or as warm and cozy. And this was the first time in my life that a room was all mine, too!

  "How do you like it?" Celine asked excitedly. For a moment I couldn't speak. Like it? Like is too weak a word, I thought. I was to sleep here? To live and do my schoolwork here?

  "It's so big," I began. I was afraid to step inside, afraid that if I did, it would all pop and disappear like a nice dream. Celine wheeled herself forward and Sanford stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders while she inspected the room to be sure Mildred had done a good job.

  "Good. At least your things have been put away," she said. "We're going shopping first thing in the morning to get you some decent clothes," she added.

  "I'd like to check on the factory first, dear. I'll come right back arid. ." Sanford began meekly.

  "You can stay away from your precious factory one more day, Sanford. Your manager is quite competent. Anyway," she said, gazing at me, "what's more important?" She looked at him pointedly. He said nothing.

  Anxious to avoid their heated words and glances, I entered my room. The curtains were flamingo pink as were the canopy, pillows, and comforter on the four- pillar bed. There was an eggshell white desk with a lamp that had a base shaped like a duck. On the walls were paintings of ballet dancers.

  "Those are scenes from famous ballets, Janet," Celine explained. "That's Swan Lake, and that's Le Jeune Homme et la Mort. That one is Romeo and Juliet," she said, nodding at the one over the bed. "I want you to be surrounded in dance--sleep, eat, and drink it just the way I did. In time it's all you'll care about," she said, and again I felt it was an order.

  She wheeled herself to a cabinet next to the closet and opened it.

  "Here you'll find tapes and CDs of music I want you to listen to and get to know so well you can hum entire productions. The music must become a part of you. You'll surely do as I did, hear the music, even while you're away from the studio, and you'll find yourself wanting to pirouette or perform a

  change-ment de pieds."

  "What's that?"

  She looked at Sanford and smiled.

  "Frequently you need to change the position of your feet, from right foot in front to left foot in front or vice versa. That's a jump in which you land with the other foot in front. So, changement de pieds, change of the feet. Don't worry. It will be easier than you think, especially for you," she said.

  I looked at Sanford to see if he had as much confidence in me. His eyes were filled with smiles. "Let her look around at her new room, Celine."

  "Of course," she said, backing away. "Your bathroom is through that door."

  I peered in at the round bathtub and stall shower. All of the fixtures were shiny brass, and then I saw the towels on the racks. There was something written on them. I drew closer to read.

  "My name is on the towel!" I exclaimed

  Sanford laughed.

  "And on the glass and the little soap dish," he added.

  Amazed, I took it all in.

  "But how did you do all this so fast?"

  "Remember, I have a factory, and connections," he said, clearly amused at my question.

  "But how did you know I would come here to live?" I pursued.

  He gazed at Celine, who had wheeled up to the bathroom door.

  "I told you, dear, from the moment I set eyes on you, I knew you were the one. The only one. We were destined to be a family."

  I thought I would simply explode from the way happiness filled my heart. A beautiful bed, furniture, personalized bathroom items, new clothes, everything I could ever want. It was Christmas in springtime.

  "Are you happy?" Sanford asked

  "Oh yes." I practically shouted the words and thought, finally, I'm speaking loudly enough to please even Mrs. McGuire.

  "Good. Change into something casual and I'll show you our grounds," Sanford told me. "There's a lake out back, and in the summer we get geese."

  "I'm going to call Madame Malisorf," Celine said, "and confirm your first lesson for the day after tomorrow. I'm so excited--I wonder if we should change it to first thing tomorrow? No, tomorrow we'll have to get your pointe shoes and leotards. We mustn't get ahead of ourselves."

  "Shouldn't you wait before buying her the pointe shoes, dear?" Sanford asked softly.

  "Absolutely not." She turned to me. "She's going to be Madame Malisorf's best student. Since me, of course. What a wonderful day!" She reached for me and then for Sanford. "We're finally a family," she said, looking at us with that faraway gaze.

  I thought the tears that were burning under my eyelids would go str
eaming down my cheeks, but they remained where they were to wait for another time.

  After I changed into a pair of old jeans and put on a blouse and sneakers, I wandered along the upstairs hallway. There was another bedroom with the door shut tight and then Sanford and Celine's room. Celine was inside, resting in bed and speaking to Sanford. I didn't want to seem like I was spying on them, so I turned to go downstairs and wait, when I heard Celine mention my name.

  "Janet will blossom like a flower in our soil, won't she, Sanford?"

  "Yes, dear," he said. "Please. Just rest a bit now. It's been a very long and emotional day for all of us."

  "And when she does," Celine continued, ignoring him, "she will dazzle audiences the way I was meant to dazzle them."

  Dazzle audiences? I thought. Me? The one the other children called Miss Fraidy Cat for as long as I could remember? The one who couldn't speak loud enough for someone right beside me to hear properly? Perform before audiences and dazzle them? How could I? As soon as Celine and Sanford realized I couldn't, they would send me back. I was so sure of it, my heart shriveled into a tight little knot. The beautiful room, this home, the promise of a family, all of it really was just a dream. I bowed my head and slowly descended the stairs.

  I wandered into the living room and gazed up at the painting of Celine that hung above the mantel. The artist had captured her in the middle of a leap, maybe that changement de pieds she had described. Her legs, the ones that were hidden under a blanket, lifeless and limp now, looked shapely and muscular in the painting. She resembled a bird, soaring, just as she had described how I would feel someday. How graceful and beautiful she looked against the dark background. The painting was so lifelike, I half expected her to land before me.

  "So here you are." I turned to see Sanford in the doorway. "Celine's taking a little rest. Come on. I'll show you our grounds. We'll walk down to the lake," he added and I noticed that he spoke in an entirely different voice when Celine wasn't around.

  When we got outside I saw that the sky had cleared as Celine had said it would. I was beginning to wonder if everyone and everything did as Celine asked.

  "This way," Sanford said, turning right at the bottom of the steps. He walked with his hands behind his back, his tall, lean body leaning forward. He took long, lanky strides, one for every two of mine. "This house was a find. It was in very good shape for its age, but we made a number of changes and improvements," he said. "I'm sure you will be as happy here as we have been, Janet." He smiled at me and nodded at the descending hillside before us. "Just over the crest is our lake. I have a rowboat, but we haven't used it for some time. Can you swim?"

  "No sir," I said softly, afraid to add another "can't" to my name Can't dance. Can't swim. Can't stay.

  "Oh, well, that will have to be remedied before summer, and please, don't call me sir. If you can't call me Dad yet, just call me Sanford, okay?" His eyes twinkled and I relaxed and smiled back at him. Somehow I'd already gotten the impression that Sanford was going to be a lot easier to please than Celine.

  We walked on.

  "I have a service that comes twice a week to care for the grounds," he said. He waved his long arm toward the east. "We own all this property and then some. I've left woods intact so we have the privacy and the feeling we're out in nature. We're really not that far from the city. The private school you'll attend is only fifteen miles away, actually. Celine has already made all the arrangements. I just have to bring you there to enroll you."

  "She has?" It made me feel strange to think that Celine had been planning a life for me, for us, before I'd even met her. What if I had said no to going home with them? But then, I was an orphan, and orphans never say no.

  Sanford laughed at the perplexed look on my face.

  "Oh yes. Celine has been preparing for your arrival literally from the first moment she set eyes on you, Janet. I'll never forget that day. She was so excited, she couldn't sleep and she wouldn't stop talking about you. She talked late into the night and when I woke up the next morning, your name was the first word on her lips."

  Rather than fill me with joy, these words sent tiny electric shocks of fear along my spine. What did Celine see in me that I couldn't see in myself, that no one had ever seen before? What if it was all untrue?

  "How come you don't have any children of your own?" I asked.

  For a few minutes he walked along silently, and I thought perhaps he hadn't heard me, but then he paused, looked back at the house, and sighed. The grim expression that I had seen earlier was quickly returning to his face.

  "I wanted to have children. From the first day we were married, I planned on having a family, but Celine was too devoted to her career, and she believed giving birth would take away from her power as a dancer.

  "Anyway," he said, continuing to walk toward the hill, "she would be the first to admit she didn't have the temperament for children in those days." He shook his head. "You would have had to look far and wide to find someone as moody. I felt like an inept weatherman, unable to predict the days of sunshine or the days of gloom. One moment she was laughing, light, and happy, and the next, because of some dissatisfaction with her rehearsal, she would become dark and sad, wilting like a flower without water. Nothing I did could cheer her. But," he said, smiling at me again, "now that you're here, that's all going to change. There'll be no more dark days."

  How could I make Celine so happy that she'd forget about her legs? Would watching me dance really make her feel any better about never being able to dance herself? How was I to be responsible for Celine's happiness? I was too small and too shy. I'd never be able to do it.

  "I used to feel like was walking barefoot on shattered glass when I returned home from business every day," Sanford continued and his voice interrupted my worrying. It was nice listening to him, to hear him open his heart to me as if I was already part of his family or had been a part of it for years. I just wish the thoughts and desires he confided in me were pleasant ones, but the more Sanford spoke the more I realized how sad and bitter he was. "Celine's moods were totally unpredictable, and after the accident they got worse. Now, that's all going to be different," he emphasized cheerily. I could tell he was trying not to say anything else gloomy.

  We stopped at the top of the hill and looked out at the lake. It shimmered in the sunlight, the water looking smooth as ice. There was a dock just below us with the rowboat he had described.

  "The lake's not that big, only about a half a mile or so, but it's nice to have water on your property. And the geese--who visit every year are quite a sight toward the end of the summer. You'll see," he said. I was happy to hear him plan on my being here for a long time.

  "It's pretty," I said. I was thankful he'd changed the subject.

  "Yes, it is." He thought a moment and then looked at me. "Well, I've been talking about us so much, I haven't given you a chance to talk about yourself. What are the things you like to do? Did you ever ice-skate or roller-skate?" he asked.

  I shook my head.

  "I'm sure you haven't ever gone skiing. Do you play any sports?"

  "I only play sports in school. I usually don't play at the orphanage."

  "What about books? Do you like to read?" "Yes."

  "Good. We have a very good library. I like to read. I suppose you like television."

  I nodded.

  "And movies?"

  "I haven't gone many times," I said. Actually, I could count the times on my fingers.

  "Your life is going to change so much, Janet. I'm almost more excited for you than I am for us. Come along," he added after a moment. "I'll show you the wild berry bushes."

  I hurried to keep up with him Berry bushes, a lake with a rowboat, beautiful flowers and personal gardeners, a private school, and new clothes. I was beginning to believe I really was Cinderella! I just hoped that I could hold off the stroke of midnight for as long as possible.

  That night I had my first dinner in my new home. Celine wore a candy apple red knit dress
with gold teardrop earrings and a necklace that had a cameo in a gold frame. She looked beautiful. Sanford wore a suit and tie. I had only the worn- out light blue dress I had worn at the orphanage for our first meeting.

  The dining room was lit by a large chandelier over the table. All of the dishes, the napkins, candles, and silverware looked so expensive I was afraid to touch a thing Sanford sat at one end of the long table and Celine at the other with me on the side. Mildred began to serve the food just moments after we sat down. Nothing felt as strange as having a servant. From the day we were able to do for ourselves at the orphanage, we took care of our own needs.

  I watched how Celine ate, pecking at her food like a small bird. Meanwhile Sanford explained to me which piece of silverware to use and dining etiquette. Everything was so delicious and I was very hungry, but Celine didn't allow me to eat as much as I would have liked.

  "Don't offer her seconds on the potatoes," she commanded when Sanford reached for the bowl. "From this day forward, she has to watch her diet. Dancers," she explained, turning to me, "have to maintain their figures. Excess fat just won't do. It will slow you down and make you clumsy. Even though I don't dance anymore, I still watch my figure. Habits become part of who you are, define your personality. Remember that, Janet. I'm passing all my wisdom on to you, the wisdom that was passed on to me by very famous and successful people."

  I left the table that night still feeling a little hungry, something I never did at the orphanage. How strange it was to look at all those delicious things and have to keep from tasting them. I glanced at Celine every time Sanford passed something along, and if she frowned or looked displeased, I didn't take any of it. Passing on the delicious-looking chocolate cake with creamy white frosting made my stomach grumble loudest.

  "You'll notice," Celine said, wheeling beside me as we went to the living room, "that you don't have a television set in your room. I know teenagers are fond of that, but between your schoolwork and your dancing, you won't have time for much else, especially frivolous things. I never did."