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    Olivia

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      She burst into laughter.

      "What is so funny, Belinda?"

      "By then you'll both have gray hair and no

      teeth," she declared.

      "But I won't have to hide a pregnancy or be

      thrown out of a finishing school," I countered. Her

      smile flew off her face like a frightened bird and was

      quickly replaced by a scowl.

      "I was just trying to be funny, Olivia. You don't

      have to get nasty."

      "I'm going to be late," I said wanting to

      abruptly end the silly conversation. I turned away

      from her.

      "Right." She went to my dresser drawer. "I need

      this tonight," she said taking back her bra.

      "Where are you going?"

      "Out to develop in other ways," she snapped

      back at me and left my room.

      I felt myself blush deeply red with anger and

      then thought more about her and smiled. It was

      amusing. For the first time I could remember, Belinda

      was actually jealous of me. Our parents were talking

      about my relationship with Samuel, asking me

      questions about social affairs while she stood or sat by

      listening. Family friends made comments to her about

      my romantic involvement and not her own. Most

      important, as far as I could tell, despite her flirtatious

      manner, Samuel didn't pay her any particular

      attention. Envy dripped from Belinda's lips and she

      didn't know how to keep it from staining the pink

      clouds on which she floated. Spite and anger were her

      only means of defense. I thought it was purely out of

      simple vexation when she announced one night at

      dinner that she wouldn't attend the Childs'

      engagement party.

      "You can go with Olivia and Samuel, Daddy,"

      she told him. "None of my friends will be there

      anyway."

      "You should be trying to make other friends,

      Belinda," I said.

      "My friends are just fine."

      "They're fine if you want to remain forever in

      high school," I retorted. Her eyes took on the shine of

      forthcoming hot tears.

      "You think you know everything about men

      now just because you have a steady date all the time.

      You just can't stop being bossy about my life. I'm not

      you."

      "That's always been fairly obvious."

      "I don't want to be you!"

      "Stop this bickering immediately," Daddy

      ordered. Fortunately, Mother was always upstairs at

      dinner now, and didn't have to listen to Belinda's

      whining.

      She stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth and

      glared at me as if to say she was smothering her

      words, but not her thoughts.

      "If you don't want to attend the affair, you don't

      have to, Belinda," Daddy consented.

      I looked at him, surprised. He wouldn't want to

      insult his friend Colonel Childs, but then on second

      thought I realized he was probably happier Belinda

      wasn't going. He wouldn't have to worry about her

      behavior or silly things she might say. He was worried

      enough these days. Mother seemed to be growing weaker and weaker and her stomach problems had returned. He and I were afraid that her next evaluation would bring us all only dreadful news. The threat hung over our house like a tempest threatening to wash our family out to sea. Daddy wore a mask of gloom, his eyes dark and heavy with lines I hadn't seen before etched from his nose to his lips. He walked with a lumbering gait, his shoulders dipped, his strength sapped by shadows of gloom clinging to the walls of our home, cowering in corners, licking their lips in anticipation of the dread that would come

      knocking at our door. But something else came first. The morning of Nelson Childs' engagement

      party, Samuel phoned to ask if he could see me

      immediately.

      "Can't it wait until you come by to take me to

      the Childs' affair, Samuel?"

      "No," he said. "I want to have a special moment

      with you, Olivia. Please," he pleaded.

      Mother had been sleeping longer and longer

      every day and with the nurse there, there wasn't much

      for me to do. I agreed, fixed my hair, put on one of

      my new cotton blouses and a matching skirt and went

      downstairs to wait. Daddy had gone to the office to

      complete some work. He promised to be home early enough to dress for the party. However, he said he

      would go himself instead of with Samuel and me. "No need for a third wheel on your bike," he

      quipped. "You can ride very well on your own these

      days, Olivia." He tried to be amusing, but I knew he

      didn't want to go without Mother. She insisted he

      show himself and represent her as well. Belinda, still

      determined not to attend, deliberately rose earlier than

      usual and left for Kimberly's house where she claimed

      she would spend the day.

      "Those snobby parties are boring anyway," she

      said as her parting remark, "but tell Nelson good luck

      for me," she added with a twinkle in her eyes. "I hope

      he's got what he wants."

      I decided to simply ignore her so she just trailed

      that silly, little laugh behind her and left.

      I was alone when Samuel rang the doorbell. I

      let Carmelita greet him and show him to the sitting

      room where I waited.

      "Well," he said gazing about nervously. He was

      wearing a business suit and tie, "your sister's not at

      home?"

      "Fortunately, no," I remarked.

      He looked relieved about that, too.

      "Fine," he muttered still standing just inside the

      doorway.

      "What was so important that it couldn't wait for

      later in the day, Samuel?" I demanded. "It's only a

      matter of a few more hours."

      "This couldn't wait a few more minutes," he

      said smiling like someone who had a deep secret he

      wanted to reveal. "Mind if I sit?"

      "Of course not. Please do," I said and he took

      the chair across from the settee. He fumbled his hat in

      his hands for a moment and then smiled again. "Well, it's a fine day for the Childs' engagement

      party," he said.

      "Yes, but I knew about the weather before you

      arrived, Samuel." He saw my patience dwindling._ Finally,, he cleared his throat, straightened his

      shoulders and began.

      "I was thinking on the way over here that you

      and I haven't been together all that long, but we sure

      have spent qualitytime together, and so," he

      continued, barely taking a breath, "it's not the length

      of time that matters between two people, it's the value

      of the time they've spent in each other's company. Do

      you agree with that?"

      "Certainly," I said.

      "Then you agree that our time together has been

      valuable?" he asked encouraged.

      "I wouldn't spend time with you otherwise," I

      replied. "I'm not one to waste my time."

      "Of course not. In fact, that's what convinced

      me I was not being too forward, not rushing things."

      "Things? What things, Samuel?"

      "Things between us. I came to tell you that I've

      enjoyed your company so much, I don't want it to end,

      but even more important, I don't like the

      interruptions."


      "Interruptions?" I had to shake my head and

      smile with confusion. What was he talking about? "Nights, mornings, pieces of afternoon . . . I

      mean all the time in between our dates," he said. I still looked confused and shook my head. "What are you saying, Samuel?"

      "I told you I wasn't the most eloquent of

      speakers. It takes me a little while to get to the point."

      He stiffened up in the seat. "What I mean to say is I

      want to make a steady diet of Olivia Gordon." "What? Steady diet?"

      He reached into his pocket and plucked out a

      small box. His smile widened as he rose from his

      chair and then went on one knee before me.

      "I thought you might like this done the oldfashioned way," he began and opened the box. In it was an engagement ring that rivaled the

      one Carson McGil had given Belinda, only I thought

      this one had a more elegant gold setting with

      baguettes.

      "I took the liberty of ordering this," Samuel

      continued, "in the hope that you would give an

      engagement between us serious consideration." Stunned by the twinkling diamond and the

      proposal, I sat dumbfounded. He remained on his

      knee, holding out the ring in its box before me.

      Slowly, almost like one afraid that if she touched it, it

      would disappear, I plucked the ring out of the box and

      looked at it closely. It was breathtaking.

      "Not having a mother to advise me, I had to

      depend on an expert jeweler," he said. "I hope you

      like it."

      "It's a beautiful ring," I gasped. I was

      hypnotized by its magical twinkle.

      "Try it on," he urged.

      I considered it and then did so, finding it a

      perfect fit. I turned my hand around to look at it from

      different angles. The hand that I thought looked so

      thin and bony now looked like it belonged to a

      princess.

      "How did you know the correct size?" "That was a bit of conspiracy," he confessed,

      "between me and your father. He got me one of your

      present rings and I had it fitted."

      I dropped my hand to my lap as if the ring had

      taken on the weight of a lump of lead.

      "My father already knows about this?" I

      groaned with disappointment.

      Samuel nodded.

      "I didn't want to appear too forward in his

      eyes," he said quickly. "And I thought if he got one of

      your rings to me . . well, as you see, it worked as far

      as fitting."

      "I don't like secrets, especially when I'm the

      only one not in on them," I intoned as if I stood

      behind a pulpit.

      He shook his head.

      "I assure you. Nothing sneaky was done. No

      one else knows about this," he said. "Please," he

      continued, "don't get the-wrong impression." I played with the ring, tugging it as if to take it

      off and then turning it on my finger. He watched, his

      eyes widening in fear and anticipation.

      "I do believe with all my heart that we can have

      a wonderful life together, and I hope you feel the same way," he continued, his eyes fixed on my fingers. "We share interests. We share ambitions. I hope I haven't upset you," he added when I didn't

      respond.

      "It's so sudden. I hate being surprised. I like

      preparation."

      "I know, but why can't good things be sudden?

      Bad things often are, as you know yourself. Anyway,"

      he went on, "I decided that today, a day we're going to

      Nelson's engagement party, would be a great day to

      announce our own."

      I thought about it and smiled to myself. Yes,

      wouldn't it though, I thought. I wondered about the

      expression on Nelson's face when he saw the ring on

      my finger, and the expressions on the faces of all

      those people who were satisfied in believing I would

      never be married. They were convinced I would end

      up a spinster, running my father's enterprises, while

      my sister, my beautiful sister, landed some rich and

      handsome young man. Wouldn't they be shocked? "Don't you think it would be a good day to

      make such an announcement?" Samuel pursued. I snapped out of my reverie and gazed down at

      him. He was looking at me as if I were about to

      pronounce a verdict in a court. His eyes were filled

      with anxiety and the dread of hearing a refusal. "Yes," I said. "It would."

      His face exploded in a smile. He kissed my

      hand and jumped to his feet.

      "How wonderful. I'm the happiest man in the

      world, happier than Nelson Childs because I'm sure

      we'll have a better marriage," he added. My eyebrows

      turned up at their centers.

      "Really?"

      "Yes, really, really. We're perfect together,

      Olivia. We didn't need some social matchmaker

      bringing us together. The moment I saw you in that

      office behind that desk working like a bee, I knew you

      and I would be a great team. We'll own the Cape

      someday. I swear.

      "I've had my sights on a special home for us,

      Olivia," he continued. "It's a large two-story house,

      very old and prestigious, the original portion having

      been built around 1780. I'm planning on gutting it and

      modernizing it. We can build onto it. I'll take you

      there tomorrow and you can begin to plan it out with

      our architects. I want it to be ready for us the day after

      our honeymoon," he said.

      "It does sound like you've been planning this

      for some time, Samuel, longer than we possibly could have known each other," I commented with narrowed,

      suspicious eyes.

      He stared a moment and then laughed. "Well, I've been planning to find the perfect

      wife for some time and I've been planning where we

      would live. The house is situated on a most desirable

      piece of land between Provincetown and North Truro,

      with its own private access to the beach, just like you

      have here, and room for gardens and a view of the sea.

      You'll see you're not giving anything up in marrying

      me. I'll take you there in the morning, first thing," he

      promised. "I'll come as early as you want. What time

      do you want me?"

      I had to laugh.

      "Let me catch my breath, Samuel. You're

      making me dizzy spinning and jumping and making

      these dramatic pronouncements like some town crier." "I want to; I want to keep you dizzy with

      surprises and happiness," he said. "I've got to go home

      to tell my father the good news, and then be back in

      three hours to take you to Nelson Childs' engagement

      party. We'll steal the limelight," he promised, slapping

      his hands together.

      He started out of the room and then turned and

      rushed back to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you for making

      me the happiest man in the world."

      He turned and left me sitting there, dazed, the

      diamond glittering under the light of the lamp beside

      me, my heart galloping.

      What a wonderful surprise this will be for

      Mother, I thought as I stood up. My legs felt a bit

      weak under me as the realization of what had

      happened sunk in. I was engaged and to a very

      handsome man. In a
    sweeping moment, I was ahead

      of Belinda again and the proper thing would happen:

      the older daughter would be married first. Mother

      would surely be pleased and she so needed something

      to make her happy and bring a smile to her weak, thin

      face.

      As I started for the stairway, I heard a voice

      within me ask, "But do you love him, Olivia?" I paused.

      "He didn't mention it," I muttered to myself.

      "He didn't even ask. It was as if he knew that love was

      something I believed grew between two people. Those

      who claimed they were struck by lightning and heard

      bells ringing every time they kissed were people

      living in a fairy tale, putting themselves into romance

      novels and films. In the end when reality set in, they were the most disappointed. The best marriages were ones like the one I was about to consent to: a marriage built on sensible, logical blocks, giving it a firm foundation. Love would come later, I thought. First, we had to respect each other and succeed together. Then, we would look into each other's eyes and say, "Yes, yes, there's another strong bond there, an emotional tie that is now strong enough to hold two independent people together securely. Now it's proper and right to say, 'I love you,' and have it mean

      something."

      I climbed the stairs and went to Mother's room.

      She was dozing. Her nurse looked up at me. "I'll stay with her awhile," I said.

      "Very good." She rose. "I'll just go down to

      have some coffee," she said looking at Mother. She

      shook her head, her eyes dark. "Call me if you need

      me," she said before leaving.

      I sat by the bed and studied Mother's small,

      burdened breaths that made her chest look heavy. Her

      bald head ravished by the chemotherapy was wrapped

      in a silk scarf. Her skin was so pasty white, she looked

      like she had no blood.

      After a few more moments, she whimpered and

      grimaced and then opened her eyes to see me sitting

      there. "Oh, Olivia, dear. Have you been here long?" "No, just a few minutes, Mother. I came to tell

      you something so you would be the first to know," I

      said, despite the fact that Daddy had been in on

      Samuel's plan, perhaps even before Samuel had

      thought of it himself.

      "What, dear?" she asked trying to turn toward

      me. I fluffed her pillow and helped her sit up. Even

      though my hand moved around her face like a

     
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