Danielle Steel - Kaleidoscope

“We'll get the sheets on the bed later.” She smiled artificially at her oldest niece. “Maybe you can help me.” And then, with no particular interest she glanced at Arthur. “Got her mother's eyes though.”

Arthur looked puzzled. “You knew Solange?” Solange had never mentioned this woman to him.

“I met her once. Sam was doing a play up here or something.”

And then suddenly Arthur remembered. Solange had hated her. But so had Sam. They had come by when he was doing summer stock in Stockbridge after the war. It seemed light years ago, but so did everything now. Arthur looked around him with a lump in his throat, hating to leave the girls there. And for a moment he hated his wife for condemning the children to this. How could she do this? But she didn't know, he reminded himself, as he fought back his own guilt and resentment. He had to force himself not to think about it and remind himself that this arrangement was only for the summer. And then … that was the real problem. And then what? Marjorie was intransigent. And he had already put out feelers everywhere, for people who would help, people who might want to take them in, people who had large families of their own, or people with no children of their own, but who might be willing to have them. He had spoken to all of his partners at the law firm.

Hilary was still standing awkwardly in the doorway of what was to be their room, staring with dismay at their new quarters. There was no closet, no chest for their things, there wasn't even a chair or a lamp or a table. There was a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, which dangled near the doorway.

“You got the money?” Eileen turned to him, and feeling awkward handing it over to her in front of the girls, he reached into his jacket for an envelope.

“That includes a reasonable amount for their expenses.”

Being far less genteel than Arthur, she opened the envelope and thumbed through it. He had given her a thousand dollars, including the fee, and if she played her cards right, and fed them nothing but macaroni and cheese for the next two months, she'd have plenty of money left over. She smiled happily at the girls, took a swig of her beer, and saluted Arthur as she tossed her cigarette into the sink with perfect aim. She did it often. “That's just fine, Mr. Patterson. We have any problems, I'll call you.”

“I thought I might come up to see them in a few weeks, if you and your husband don't mind, to see how they're doing.”

Hilary stared at him unbelievingly. He was actually going to leave them in this place, with the filth and the beer bottles and the unmade bed … and that awful woman. And if she had been withdrawn before, she was icy now, as he left them. “I'll call you in a few days, Hilary, and don't be afraid to call if you need me.” All she could do was nod. She couldn't believe he was doing this to them, after everything else he'd done. For a moment, she wanted to kill him. And instead she turned to look down at Alexandra, who was crying softly.

“Don't be silly, Axie. This is going to be fun. Remember, Uncle Arthur said we could go to the ocean.”

“Yeah?” Eileen laughed raucously as they heard the car drive away. “Where you going to do that? In the shipyard?” She laughed again. A thousand bucks was a hell of a nice price for a few months of inconvenience, and with luck they wouldn't be too bad. The baby looked like kind of a pain in the ass, and the five-year-old looked like a whiner, but the oldest one seemed to have it all in control. With luck, she'd take care of everything. Maybe she'd even cook and clean house. Eileen fell onto the couch in front of the TV with a fresh beer, and lit a cigarette. Maybe she and Jack would go out for dinner.

“Excuse me.” Hilary stood awkwardly next to the television, holding the baby. “Where are the sheets for our bed?”

“On the back porch, I think. If you can find 'em.” She never spoke another word to them, as Hilary quietly got them organized. She found torn sheets, but at least they were clean, and she put them on the bed, but there were no pillows and no blanket. And she put a makeshift sheet in the baby's crib, propping it between her bed and the wall, for fear it would topple over if she didn't. As she had suspected, it was broken.

She washed Alexandra's face then and took her to the bathroom, changed Megan's diapers, and gave all three of them a drink of water, as they sat quietly in their new room, looking around them.

“It's so ugly here,” Axie whispered, afraid that the lady with the cigarette and the beer would hear her. “Is she really Daddy's sister?”

Hilary nodded. It was difficult to believe, and not pleasant to think about, but she was their aunt and they were stuck with her for the summer. There was no place for them to put their toys, and the dresses the nurse had packed for them had to remain in their suitcases. It was five o'clock before Eileen saw them again, and as she had suspected, Hilary had everything in control.

“Excuse me.” She stood in front of her with her shining dark hair and big green eyes, like a miniature spokesman. “Could we give my sisters something to eat? They're both hungry.” Eileen hadn't even thought of that. There was nothing in the house. She opened the fridge and there was nothing there except beer and some rotting lemons and stale bread. Eileen and Jack never ate at home if they could help it. All they did was drink there.

“Sure, kid. Which one are you?”

“Hilary.” There was something very distant in her eyes, as though the last months had left her broken. She was only nine years old and she had already had more pain and grief than most people have in a lifetime.

“Can you go to the store for me, and get yourself something to eat? A couple of cans of tuna ought to do it.”

“Tuna?” Hilary looked as though she'd never heard the word. She was used to hot meals prepared by the maid on Sutton Place, and her mother before that. Thick soups, and rich stews, and steaks cooked medium rare, and chocolate cakes with vanilla ice cream. “Tuna fish?”

“Yeah. Here's some money.” She handed her a few dollars, as though she expected her to create an entire dinner with just a few dollars. Even Hilary knew that was impossible. Her nurse gave her more than that just when she went to get ice cream. “The store's on the corner, you can't miss it. And buy me another beer too, will ya?” She was always afraid of running out, even when she had plenty.

Hilary took her sisters with her, only because she was afraid of what would happen if she didn't. And the store looked as seamy as everything else around them. Most of the houses were either crumbling brick, or wood with faded, peeling paint on them. And everything in the neighborhood looked as though it was battered and beaten and broken. Hilary bought two cans of tuna fish, a jar of baby food, a loaf of bread, some mayonnaise, butter, half a dozen eggs, a container of milk and a can of beer for their hostess. Hilary figured she could make a halfway decent dinner out of all of it, and she could use the rest of the eggs and the bread to make breakfast the next morning. But as she came in the front door struggling to carry the package and Megan and still hold Axie's hand, Eileen asked her two questions.

“Where's my beer?”

“I have it in the bag.”

“Then get it.” She barked at Hilary, and Axie started to whimper. She hated people who shouted at her, or her sisters. Their mother never had, and even their nurse didn't shout at them, even though they didn't like her much and she said ugly things about their parents.

Hilary handed Eileen the beer as quickly as she could, and Eileen glared at her and asked the second question. “Where's the change?”

Hilary handed her three cents, and Eileen threw it back at her, hitting the baby near the eye with one of the pennies. “What'd you do, buy yourself a T-bone? This isn't Park Avenue, you know. Where the hell's the rest of the money?” She seemed to have forgotten the thousand dollars Arthur had given her for just this purpose.