Twisted Proposal (10 page)

A balding man was humming to himself while he listened to Botticelli and rolled out some kind of pastry. He paused when he noticed me.

“I’ll turn the music down, Miss.” He grabbed a remote and the music lowered.

              “It’s fine. I like Botticelli,” I said.

              A smile crept onto his face. “I have to admit, I didn’t think anyone in this house knew what good music was.”

I strolled around the kitchen. There had to be at least three different coffee pots that lined the stainless steel countertops. The most we ever had at home was a toaster, and it didn’t work half the time. I took a seat on a tall bar stool. “I’m not from here. I’m Addison. Stuart’s
other
child.”

              He didn’t comment, even though I’m sure he wanted to. Instead he began to hum as he continued cooking. I glanced over my shoulder to see a small table with muffins on a tree-like stand. My mouth watered.

“May I have muffin?” I asked the man.

              He turned around smiling. “Of course you can. You live here.”

              “That doesn’t mean anything. But thanks.” I helped myself to a blueberry muffin and sat on one of the chairs, wishing I had coffee.

              “Would you like something to drink?” the man asked as if reading my mind.

              “Is there any coffee?”

              “Of course. What kind? French Vanilla, Hazelnut, Carmel Latte—“

              “Regular black?” I asked, standing.

              “Of course. One cup of black coffee coming right up.”

              “I can get it, if you show me where the cups are.” I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t capable of helping myself.

              ‘Okay. You'll find what you need up there.” He pointed to his left and I pulled out a dark blue mug.

I moved in front of the three coffee pot-like machines. “Which one?”

“The far left, regular.”

I poured myself a steaming cup of coffee and returned to the table.

              The man didn’t make any attempt to talk. Instead, he turned the music back up and continued his work. The coffee was just as amazing as the muffin. I was almost positive this wasn’t a box mix. I finished only half of it but drank all of my coffee. Unsure what to do with the uneaten half of the muffin; I tapped the cook on the shoulder.

“Can I save this? Is there a baggie or something?”

“Of course,” he said and handed me a small plastic container and I scraped my plate in the container and washed my dishes before facing the cook again. He was staring at me with a surprised expression.

              “Did I do something wrong?”

              “No, it's just that the family doesn't clean. You don't have to wash your own dishes.”

              “Is that a problem?”

“No, certainly not, just rare.”

“Okay. Well, thanks for the muffin. I’m going to go look around now.” I left him and walked through the dining room.
Weird.
Why wasn’t I supposed to clean? It was my mess
. I looked back at the kitchen. He seemed so nice. When I turned around, I nearly crashed into Petra.

              “What are you doing?” She had changed into a dark blue business-like dress and was accompanied by a woman with dark brown hair and a pound of make-up on her face. She sneered at me as she walked into the dining room.

              “I just had breakfast,” I said, walking around her.

              She smiled over at the woman and pulled me into the foyer. “You’re supposed to be resting in your room. Now, how did you get out?” she whispered.

              “I picked the lock. I couldn’t stand it any longer. It’s too boring.”

              She straightened and frowned. “It’s too boring? What? Is it too small?”

              “That’s not what I said. Can I go for a walk?” I asked.

              “No, you may not,” she said, her hands on her hips.
What was her deal?

              “Petra, dear, is everything okay?” asked the brown-haired woman from the dining room.

              She glanced at the woman over her shoulder. “Yes, Lindy, dear. Would you like to meet my step-daughter?” I could tell the words were forced.

              “I didn’t know you had a step-daughter. When did this happen?” the woman asked.

              “A few days ago,” Petra cried, as she burst into tears and fled into the other room. The woman glared at me, then sped after Petra.

This wasn’t my fault.
Fighting the urge to bolt through the front door, I stormed back up to my room, slammed the door, and threw myself on the bed. I hated it here. I wished Elizabeth were still alive. This was all her fault. If she would have just stuck it out, then maybe…no.
Who was I kidding?
My life would still be a mess.

I lay back and stared at the ceiling. These people, with their money and their servants, were my family now. Stuart, at least, claimed he wanted me here, but why?
He was keeping something from me. I would find out.

Chapter Ten

The door was unlocked at noon, and Esther walked in. Smiling, she set an old- fashioned silver tray with a bowl of soup and a sandwich on my desk.

“Thanks,” I said. She didn’t reply, just left quickly, locking door behind her.
I ate the soup and everything on the sandwich except for the meat. Apparently, no one knew I was a vegetarian.

I didn’t know if the woman spoke English or not. So I wrote a note in Spanish and English and left it on the tray. The maid returned an hour later to gather my dirty dishes.

Once she was gone, I opened the laptop on my desk and powered it on. It took me three attempts to get past the password scene and onto the Internet.

Unlike Stuart, there were a lot more listings for people with the name, Henry Maddox; apparently it was a common name. So I tried to narrow it down by using his address and sure enough, found a phone number. Fear stopped me from calling him.
What if he was some kind of creep or something?

Setting aside the computer, I went to the bathroom and removed the make-up, which had begun to irritate my face, and did some push-ups and crunches.
Maybe I would call him tomorrow.

Instead of trying to open the bedroom door again, I turned the television on and surfed through the channels until I found a marathon about hospital interns.

“Addison?” Stuart asked from beside me. I jerked away, falling off the side of the couch, and jumped to my feet.
When did he get in here?
“What?”

“I unlocked the door.”

“Gee, like I care. I can pick it anyway.”

He released a disgruntled sigh but didn’t leave. “I’d appreciate if you joined us for dinner.”

“Uh, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Suit yourself.” He left leaving my door open.

I shut the door and returned to the T.V. just in time to catch the next episode in the marathon. Less than five minutes later, Zach waltzed into my room.

“Whatcha doing?" He stopped abruptly. "Yikes, what happened to your face?” He was dressed in some kind of school uniform, khakis and a bright red polo shirt.

“You don’t want to know,” I managed, scooting to the end of my couch. Shoot, I knew I should have re-covered my eye.
Why was he still here?

“Yeah you’re probably right.” He sat next to me. “So what’s up?”

“Nothing, why?” I shifted uneasily.
Did I do something wrong? They had so many rules around here.

“Cool. You want to play video games with me?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Sweet. Follow me.” He led me through the house to the massive basement with a game room furnished with a pool table and dart boards. The basement also had a mini-theatre, workout room, and even a study room with a wall of books. It was like a whole other house. 

“It’s like a fricken arcade down here,” I noted as I followed him into the theatre.

“I know, but it gets boring after a while,” he said.

“I can imagine.” He didn’t catch my sarcasm.

He flipped on the light, exposing a gamer's dream: An enormous bean bag couch and a sixty-inch flat screen. Against the wall was a shelf filled with every gaming system known to mankind. I was afraid to move.
Was this for real?

“Dad doesn’t really care how long I play, just as long as I get my homework done.” He handed me a fake guitar with color-coded buttons where the strings should be.

“What’s this?”

“Guitar Master. Ever play?”

“Can’t say that I have.” My eyes were glued to the massive TV screen. He flew through the game menus at record speed and stopped at a song I’d never heard. Then he started play without giving me the instructions.

It didn’t take long for me to pick up the object of the game: push down on the colored button as its corresponding note passed over the finish line in the game. I nudged Zach, and he looked at me.

“Jerk.” I smiled and he smiled back. We played six songs, and I won them all, which frustrated Zach to no end.

              “Are you sure you never played this game?” He put the guitars away.

“Nope, never. Is there anything to drink?”

“Yeah, in the mini fridge.” He pointed to a tiny black fridge in the corner of the room.

“It’s a fun game.” I grabbed a bottle of Fiji water and watched Zach battle his way through three levels of some racing game. 

“Have you done your homework?” Stuart asked, joining us.

“No, but--” Zach said.

“Then no more games.” Stuart took away the controller.

“Man!” Zach left, with Stuart following.
Now what?

Instead of going back upstairs, I went into the study room where there was a computer and several books. It reminded me of one of the study rooms at the library back home. I slid into the plush leather chair at the desk and wiggled the mouse. A picture of Stuart and his family appeared as the background. I went back online and began looking at different maps of the area.
Maybe there was a train station nearby.

Fifteen minutes later, I exited Google maps. There was no way I was going to make it back to Illinois on the measly forty dollars I had. It was time to face reality; I was a long way from home, and I wasn’t going back.
Maybe I could get a job or something?

“It’s time for bed, Addison,” Stuart interrupted sometime later. I glanced up from the book on historical France I was reading.

“Can I come down here again tomorrow?” I stared at the cocktail glass in his hand, wishing I could have something stronger than water.

“Do you promise not to run away?”

Could I guarantee?
“Yes.”

“I’ll think about it.”

I put the book back and returned to my room, feeling his eyes on me. I could hear Lexus talking loudly in the bathroom on the phone, so I purposely turned up the TV volume to block out the sound of her whiney voice. She was so annoying.

After I heard her go to her bedroom, I slipped into the bathroom. The place had been trashed. I decided I was never going to get along with her. So I pushed all of her clothes, shoes and stuff over to her side and took a quick shower. If she insisted on living in a mess, then she could.

When I returned to my room, it was a little after nine, but I climbed in bed. Three hours later, I gave up on sleep. I needed something to numb the racing thoughts in my head. So I crept back downstairs in search of my relief. The lights were turned down low, making the place eerie and exotic at the same time.

If I were Stuart, where would I keep the alcohol?
I stood in the middle of the hallway near the living room.
The liquor cabinet.
All rich people had them. I found what I was looking for behind the bar in the formal living room. I snagged a bottle of Jack Daniel's and gin before returning to my room.

I knew what I did was wrong, but I needed it. Back home, I drank whenever I could afford it. After taking a few swigs of the gin, I relaxed. Hiding the alcohol in my closet seemed to the only logical place, and then I crawled into bed. Lying on my back with my hands under my head, I stared around the room. I guess I would have to wait this out. I had to admit it was nice not having to go to work or try to find Elizabeth. I fluttered my eyes, fighting to stay awake.
Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all
.

***

“How was school?” I asked Zach the following day. I was waiting downstairs in the study room doing more research on California and the local jobs in the area.

“Boring. Ready to battle?” he said, and I joined him in the gaming room.

We played Drag Lightning, a simulated racing game, until Stuart came down.

“Gosh darnit, Zach, if I receive one more call from your school about you not turning in your homework, you're grounded.” He snatched up the controller and put it on the top of the entertainment system.

Zach glanced at me. “It’s not my fault, Dad; Addison said she would help me last night and didn’t. So I didn’t finish.”

I stared at Zach in shock. He never asked for any help.

“Really? So, Addison, did you say you would help him?” Stuart directed at me.

I felt like reaching over and popping Zach in the head. “Uh, I may have mentioned something about helping him...”

“Don’t lie, Addie. You did when I came home from school,” Zach said, pouting.

“Enough, Zach, go to your room,” Stuart said.

As Zach stomped out of the room, he turned toward me, grinning.

Stuart faced me. “Addison, I know you're new here, but don’t tell my children you’re going to help them and then not.”

“I didn’t tell him anything, Stuart.”

“Excuse me. Are you calling my kid a liar?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” I replied, standing.

“Go to your room, young lady.”

“Gladly.” I ran upstairs.
Screw this. I wanted out of this crazy house.

Up in the bedroom, I picked up the phone and dialed Henry’s number. An error message rang in my ear, telling me I had the wrong number. So I dialed Dr. Franklin, hoping she would pick up, but she didn’t. I hung up.

“I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” Zach said as he strolled into my room.

Glaring at him seemed to have no effect. He flipped on the TV like nothing ever happened.

“Do you want to come down to dinner with us?” he asked, staring over at me.               Somewhere deep inside, I forgave him. He was just a kid who didn’t want to do his homework. He didn’t do it on purpose. “Nah.”

              “Aw, come on, Dad can’t still be mad at you. It’s been like, five minutes.”

              So I gave in and joined the family at the dinner table. Stuart hadn’t forgiven me, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it. Lexus, on the other hand, made a huge deal about my eye. I ignored her and focused on my food, which turned out to be delicious. Back home, all I ate was cheese pizza at work and canned veggies from the food bank.

After supper, Zach persuaded me to help him with his homework, under Stuart's supervision.  He was doing seventh grade work, so I flew through it pretty easy, and we went swimming after.

As I lay in bed that night, I thought about my old apartment and Elizabeth.
How could she do that to me?
She used me to start her life over and made everyone believe that she was Eve. But now I knew the truth.
At least she didn’t kill me.
I tried not to think about it. But I couldn’t sleep, so I grabbed the bottle of gin hidden in the closet and sat on the floor crying and tearing up pictures. When I was finished, I threw the pictures in the trash and went to bed. I was over my past.

For the next few days, my life fell into a routine: I ate breakfast with the family and then spent the day in downstairs or outside near the pool, reading. When Zach came home, we would do his homework or play video games. Then, in the evenings, I would spend hours answering his countless questions about my life. It was taxing, but I tried not to let it bother me. He was just a curious kid. 

I found out fast Petra loved going to parties and pretending she was a socialite, even though she didn’t even know the meaning of the word. She had all her friends over on Friday, and all of them gave me the evil eye. I thought about telling them that I wasn’t the problem, but didn’t want to cross Petra. So I retreated to my room after dinner and refused to come out.

This, of course, didn’t help the way Lexus treated me. She made sure that the bathroom remained a wreck. I gave up on keeping it clean. The girl needed to go to charm school or something. But again, to keep the peace, I skated around her and avoided her whenever possible.

By the following Saturday morning, I never wanted to watch TV again. It was seriously rotting my brain, not to mention, my eyes were bothering me. I gathered up my clothes and found the washing machine in the basement and started my laundry. There was no reason for people to wait on me. I was in the process of hanging up my clothes when Petra marched through my bedroom door.

“I was thinking today we would go shopping and get you some new clothes.” She was wearing a tacky hot pink dress that showed too much fake cleavage.

“Okay.” When I turned around, she was staring intently at the photo of me and Elizabeth taken a few years ago.
She just needed to get over it!
 

“Your mother’s… very pretty.” She put the picture back.

              “Yeah, I guess.”
What did she care?

“There were two of them, right?”

“Yep, identical.”

“So it’s possible that you’re not Stuart’s daughter at all?”

“I wish, but no. Stuart demanded a paternity test. I’m sure if I wasn’t his, I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Oh. Stuart never mentioned that.”

“I bet.” It didn’t make sense that he kept stuff from her. Or maybe he did tell her, but all the tanning affected her memory.

“Okay. Well, I’ll find you something to wear. Then we’ll head out, okay?” She left, her smelly perfume lingering in the air behind her. All too soon, she returned with a pair of jeans and a white and blue-striped polo shirt.