Daughter of Darkness

  “You must always tell me exactly what you’re feeling, Lorelei,” Daddy once told me, “and I will do the same with you.”

  I was deeply disappointed, but I didn’t complain. Even the smallest suggestion of dissatisfaction with Daddy or the smallest criticism of him could bring down thunder and lightning from either Mrs. Fennel or one of my older sisters. For them, that was blasphemy. Just as worshippers could be excommunicated from any religion, any of us could be excommunicated from this family. No one came right out and said such a thing, not even Mrs. Fennel, but I felt it. I had been plucked out of nowhere and could be dropped back into it, dropped into a world without any family, without any daddy, much less any mother.

  Sometimes, maybe because of books I read or movies I saw, I tried to imagine how hard and lonely it must be for those foundlings who never find a family to take them into their lives. How cold it must be to have an institution for a home and paid bureaucrats substituting as relatives. I had no doubt that any of them would gladly trade places with me, no matter what the obligations and rules were here. Here there was at least a real home, where there was at least a daddy to show you real love and affection. I knew that as much as I needed Daddy, as much as we all needed him, he needed us, and that was too precious to surrender.

  After a moment, I asked Ava, “How old were you when you did it with a boy for the first time? You said you had all these feelings when you were younger than I am.”

  She looked at me again, more of a coy smile on her lips now. “Who said I have even had a first time?”

  “You haven’t?”

  She laughed. “Look at you. See how you’re surprised? Aren’t you more interesting, exciting, if men are not sure?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know much about men and what they think or how they think,” I admitted.

  She lost her humor quickly. “Well, I’m telling you that you are more mysterious and that it is important. It is always the obvious girls who are the most uninteresting. It is essential to have a cloak of mystery about you, Lorelei, especially since you’re one of us. You would think you would know that yourself by now, but I keep forgetting how immature you are sometimes.”

  “I’m not immature.” I pouted for a moment and then added, “If I am, it’s because I’m not permitted to do anything, to experience anything, when it comes to the opposite sex. I haven’t been out on a date or even to a party, have I? Well, have I? Girls much younger than I am have been out on dates and gone to parties. Some of the kids in my class think I must have done something really terrible to be so restricted or that we’re religious nutcases.”

  She laughed and then said, “Who cares what they think?”

  “I do. It’s hard, Ava. Don’t tell me it wasn’t hard for you, too.”

  She looked at me with an uncharacteristic softness for a moment. I knew that meant she was going to tell me something important. “Well, Daddy agrees with you about all that. He thinks you’re just about ready to go out with me, but he’s worried. He doesn’t think you’re as instinctively prepared as Brianna and I were. He wants me to start to teach you things you need to know, prepare you, and show you how to be more attractive, more sophisticated, and especially more cautious.”

  “He does?”

  “We will go on some dry runs first so I can observe you in action and you can observe me and learn something. Consider it on-the-job training,” she added out of the corner of her mouth. Then she sighed so deeply I thought her chest would crack. “Your sexual education is my newest obligation, but it’s something I always knew would come.”

  “You sound upset about it. Didn’t Brianna do the same for you? Was she upset about having to do it?”

  “That was different.”

  “Why?”

  “I just told you. I was instinctively better prepared.”

  “Well, maybe I am, too. It’s not fair to think I’m not without giving me an opportunity to demonstrate whether I am,” I protested.

  “Daddy said you weren’t. Are you questioning Daddy’s judgment?”

  “No. Of course not, but—”

  She sat up quickly, brushed back her hair again, and got off the bed. “I have to get some more sleep,” she said.

  “Where were you last night?”

  “Why?”

  “I just wondered where you go to… I mean, what sort of man—”

  “You will know when you know,” she said.

  “You weren’t back until very late this time,” I blurted before she could walk out.

  “What, were you waiting up, spying on me to see if I was successful? You thought I was taking too long? You’re judging me now?”

  “No, I just…”

  “Just were waiting up.” She relaxed and thought a moment. “Maybe Daddy’s right. Maybe you are ready. I was doing the same sorts of things, spying on Brianna, and thinking the same sorts of things when I was ready. That’s why it’s important you don’t mess up with some teenage romance. You know what would happen to you if you ever got pregnant, Lorelei. You know how useless you would be to Daddy, even to yourself,” she said sharply, her face reddening with an anticipation of anger.

  “For the last time, Ava, I’m not having any teenage romance, and I’m not trying to have one!”

  “Lower your voice.”

  “Well, I’m not, Ava.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, nodding with suspicious eyes. She could be so infuriating. She nodded at my iPod. “Use your earphones.”

  She left, closing my door quietly.

  I put on the earphones, but I didn’t play any music. Instead, I listened to my memories of the night before.

  I had lied to her. I did spy on her, because it did seem to be taking her longer. I waited by the window in my bedroom that looked out on our driveway and saw her drive up with the young man beside her. The moonlight illuminated the front of the house just enough for me to make him out. He looked tall, with wide shoulders, like a UCLA football player, but I knew he couldn’t be that. Daddy wouldn’t let her bring anyone from her college here, not as long as we lived so close.

  All the lights were out in the house. She had probably told him there was no one home. I was sure Mrs. Fennel was watching through a slightly opened curtain. I went to my closed door and put my ear against it. I heard the young man’s laughter and then hers. He sounded so happy, probably thinking himself lucky to be making it with a girl as beautiful as Ava. It sounded to me as if they had paused just inside the entryway and were kissing. She wanted him to be excited. She wanted his heart to pound, his blood to rush through his veins.

  Then I heard them going up the stairs. There was more laughter, although their voices were muffled now. Ava sounded silly, actually. I opened my door slightly and listened. I was very interested in what she would be telling him at that moment. Instead, there was a long silence. Suddenly, I could hear the surprise in his voice, and then the door to Daddy’s room slammed shut.

  The young man had time to scream only once.

  2

  Understated

  “Look at how beautifully that fits her,” Daddy said when I stepped into the living room.

  I had just put on the dress he had brought back for me from France. He sat back in his Louis XV Giltwood armchair with Aubusson tapestry. Daddy was always very proud of his furniture. He told us that what was in a man’s house was in his very soul. “His art, his choice of color, his very flooring and walls, reveal what’s in his heart. They tell us who he is, how he was raised, what are his tastes in wine, women, and song,” he added with a laugh.

  He sat with perfect posture as always. Daddy never slouched, never looked tired or lazy. Often, when I saw him sitting alone and thinking, he reminded me of a Greek statue. He had alabaster skin, with the most intelligent yet warm black eyes that picked up the ebony tone of his hair. His eyes were truly like jewels, rich opals. He had a strong, straight mouth and a Romanesque nose. His cheekbones were high and his jawbone just prominent enough to give him a loo
k of power.

  Ava stood at his side with her hand on his shoulder, as if she thought they were posing for a family portrait and she should have that important position. Marla was sitting at his feet, her face against his leg, her right arm around his legs as if she were claiming he was hers. Every time we touched him, every time he touched us, every embrace, especially every kiss, was coveted and collected to enrich our love bank accounts. None of us would come right out and say it, but each of us hoped and believed he loved us more than any of his other daughters.

  He had brought back clothing, jewelry, and perfume for all three of us but specifically asked me to put on my new black sleeveless dress for dinner that night. It had a deep V-neck collar and a hem about midway between my ankles and knees. The material was something I had never seen or felt. He said he had had it specially made for me. It clung to my body like another layer of skin. I was braless and wore a pair of thong panties. He asked me not to wear any jewelry tonight.

  “Real beauty is always understated,” he told me. “Attractive women don’t realize that they challenge their own natural attractiveness when they are ostentatious and wear too much valuable jewelry. There’s too much unnecessary competition occurring on their own bodies. Why take attention from your eyes, your lips, your magnificent complexion?”

  That sounded so right. Was there anything Daddy didn’t know about women, about anything?

  “Am I beautiful now, Daddy?” I asked him.

  “I wouldn’t have bought you this dress if I didn’t think the time had come,” he said.

  I would be the only one of us girls wearing something formal to dinner that evening. Marla was in jeans and a school sweatshirt. Ava wore a pair of black jeans and a white knit blouse. Daddy wore a dark blue shirt and white slacks. Tonight he looked even younger. Time fell helplessly at his feet. He was shielded against the slings and arrows of days, months, and years. They were like flies on the skin of an elephant. I think that was why he was so unconcerned about dates, even days of the week, unless he had an appointment. No one seemed to notice that he rarely wore a watch. He had beautiful rings, gold bracelets, and exquisite necklaces, jewelry from all over the world, but usually avoided wearing a watch, even though I knew he had a drawer full of them.

  When I asked him why he rarely wore one, he said, “What difference does one hour to the next make for me, Lorelei? I always live in the moment and never waste my time longing for tomorrow.”

  He seemed to have a built-in clock anyway and instinctively knew what time it was whenever it was important for him to know. We girls all had watches, and there were all sorts of antique clocks in our house, remarkably in sync, announcing the hour in perfect harmony. In the living room, we had a pendulum clock Daddy claimed was made in the eighteenth century and had once been hanging in the palace of Louis IV of France. The way he described it there, described the entire palace, in fact, with such detail, I was sure he had been there and had seen it there.

  As he looked at me in the new dress, he smiled with appreciation. I could feel his love as though it flowed in soft, melodic waves from his eyes, his lips, and his heart. How many of the other orphan girls had a daddy who appreciated them as much as mine appreciated me? Why shouldn’t I do everything he wanted, get anything he needed, be anyone he wanted me to be? Maybe he wasn’t my real father, but I existed because of him. That was what my heart told me every day.

  “Ava?” Daddy said. “Look at our Lorelei. She’s stunning in that dress. Wouldn’t you agree?” Neither of my sisters had yet commented.

  “Yes, Daddy, it does fit her well,” she said rather flatly. She could have easily added, “Big deal.”

  He looked up at her. “It’s more than just the dress. She’s grown wonderfully. I’d say there’s been a remarkable maturing, wouldn’t you?”

  “There has been, Daddy. Remarkable,” Ava replied dryly. I saw how Daddy held his gaze on her. There was nothing in his face to reveal his displeasure, but just that extra moment was enough. “I mean, she’s blooming into someone very beautiful right before our very eyes,” Ava quickly added.

  “Exactly,” Daddy said, now pleased with her response. “I expected nothing less.”

  He put his left hand on Marla’s head, stroking her the way he might stroke a dog. Maybe he could feel her jealousy through his legs. She clung to him as if her life depended on it.

  “Don’t worry, Marla,” he said. “You’re next. We will see similar beauty appearing in you as well when your time comes.”

  “When’s that, Daddy?” she asked, looking up at him hopefully and excitedly.

  “Patience,” he said. “Everything comes to those who wait. Ava was the same way, weren’t you, Ava?”

  “I didn’t have to be as patient. I bloomed a little bit earlier, Daddy,” she said softly.

  He glanced at her wryly, his lips pursed for a moment. “Our Ava,” he said, “is a little insecure yet.”

  Insecure? Ava? None of Daddy’s daughters could be insecure, especially by Ava’s age and doing the things Ava was now required to do. I was more surprised than she was at the obvious criticism, but she took it harder. She looked as if she might break out in hysterical sobs. I almost felt sorry for her, even though a bigger part of me took pleasure in seeing her knocked off her pedestal.

  “It’s nothing,” Daddy quickly added. “It’s quite normal, in fact. It always comes with some sibling rivalry, and there’s nothing wrong with some good old-fashioned sibling rivalry.” He laughed and then added, “I have every confidence that Ava will prove to be one of my best little girls, if not the best.”

  That pulled her back from the cliff of dark sorrow, and she looked happy again. As if our lives were a play being enacted on some grand stage, right on cue, Mrs. Fennel came to the doorway that opened to the dining room before anything more could be said about who would be Daddy’s best daughter and who wouldn’t.

  “Everything’s ready,” she announced. The manner in which she spoke and the way she stood there, her body stiff, her shoulders back, made it seem as if one of us was about to go to an execution and not our dinner.

  “Well, then, let’s go to the table,” Daddy said, and stood. Marla leaped to her feet. Ava moved forward quickly. She expected him to put his arm around her shoulders, as he often did, and lead her into the dining room, but he reached out for my hand instead. I looked at Ava. Her eyebrows lifted, and her eyes flashed anger and disappointment in my direction, but then she quickly looked away and started for the dining room so she wouldn’t see Daddy kiss my cheek. However, I was sure she heard him whisper, “You’re a diamond now out of the rough. How complete and confident I feel just looking at you.”

  Could my heart be fuller? I glanced at myself in the wall mirror in our dining room and saw the glow in my face. The flame inside me that my happiness fueled could light a room, I thought. I was filled with the sin of pride but completely unconcerned. In our world, the deadliest sin was not pleasing Daddy. Everything else was more a misdemeanor than a felony.

  “Tell us about your trip to France, Daddy,” Marla said after the four of us had sat.

  Mrs. Fennel never ate with us. She served our dinners, breakfasts, and lunches and ate by herself in the kitchen. Ava said we should be grateful about that. “Watching her eat is like watching a starving dog go at food.”

  “I visited friends outside of Paris near Versailles,” Daddy began.

  “Old friends?”

  “Oh, yes,” Daddy told her. “All my friends are old friends these days,” he added with a smile. “But everyone was excited and energetic. It was a wonderful reunion. For us, no matter where we are, it’s always as though we are there for the first time, and if you think as I do that every day is the first day of your life, it really feels like it is the first time. We were like silly tourists. We went to great restaurants, shopped everywhere, and of course, we all went to the Louvre in Paris. We had known so many of the artists. It takes days and days to really appreciate the Louvre. I expect al
l of you will go there eventually.”

  “I’ve been,” Ava reminded him.

  “Yes, but you were too young to appreciate it,” he said.

  “I remember going there,” she insisted, “but…”

  “But you don’t remember anything you saw,” he suggested with his soft smile.

  She laughed like someone caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

  Then all of us laughed.

  “My girls,” Daddy said. He reached for my hand and Ava’s, and I reached for Marla’s. The four of us held on to each other around the table. Daddy lowered his head and closed his eyes. This was the closest we ever came to any sort of prayer. There was a stillness around us; the lights seemed to dim.

  “I see great things ahead for all of you, my lovelies,” he said. “You will all go to wonderful places and see the world’s most beautiful scenery, great art and architecture. You will walk with princes and kings and queens and all the rich and the powerful. Men will cherish a warm look, a warm word, from any of you, and women will always envy you.”

  “Will I be a movie star?” Marla asked excitedly. When Daddy made his predictions, they sounded as firm as any biblical prophet’s.

  He lifted his head and opened his eyes. “No, Marla. You won’t be in anyone else’s movie but your own.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. The brightness left her eyes, showing her disappointment.

  Daddy looked to Ava.

  “What Daddy means, Marla,” she said, glancing at me as well, “is you will be a star in the story of your own life. You will do things people dream of doing, pretend to be doing in movies. You will really do them. We all will.”

  Revived, Marla widened her smile.

  “Well said,” Daddy told Ava.

  She beamed. Whenever Daddy flattered any of us, it was as if he had touched us with a magic wand. I could see both Marla and Ava had the same reactions as I did when he gave a compliment. They brightened as if a light had been turned on inside them. A warmth fell over them. Ava said it was a feeling better than sex. I had to take her word for that, of course.