"What's this?" I asked immediately.
"A graduation gift," Basil said.
"Graduation? I didn't graduate from anything."
"Oh, yes, you did, young lady," he said sternly. "You graduated from the world of the unfortunate to our precious little kingdom of happiness. You have become independent and confident and your own young lady, a young lady I'd match against any of those back at your private school or anywhere, for that matter, no matter their upbringing or how much money their parents have.
"Hey," he said in a less laudatory tone, "you're my first complete success in a long time. I wasn't always this good with my own kids. You make me feel twenty years younger. Go on, open the gift," he urged, nodding at it.
I sat and began to undo the thin ribbon. Then I peeled off the paper neatly and opened the box. Inside was a gold key chain with the key to the Mercedes sports car already attached. What's more, the key chain had my name engraved in it.
"It's beautiful," I said, taking it out to admire it. "Beautiful things for my beautiful ladies," Basil declared.
"Thank you, Basil."
The sight of it brought tears to my eyes now. He laughed, and so did Ami. She hugged me, and then he approached to kiss me on the cheek. He kept his face close to mine, with his eyes closed, as if he could in-hale my very essence. I drank in his strong, masculine aftershave and cologne. Then he bounced back and cried, "Let's pour the wine."
He filled our glasses and then proposed a toast.
"To Celeste. Let this be the beginning of many, many successful accomplishments," he said.
The three of us drank. I felt bad about Wade not being here to enjoy all this. It promised to be a very special dinner. There was none of the tension I usually felt when Wade was here. Perhaps Ami had been right, I thought. When Basil was happy, the house seemed to take on more light and be filled with the echo of more laughter.
Mrs. Cukor stepped out of the kitchen to serve us our dinner. Although she looked at me with the same dark eyes filled with foreboding, she didn't seem as aggressive or angry. I wasn't happy about that, how-ever, because she looked more defeated, fatalistic.
There was an air of doom about her as though angry, bruised clouds hovered over her head and followed her about the dinning room, into the kitchen, and back, never leaving her and threatening constantly to rain down a tragic storm. She moved almost listlessly, placing dishes, serving potatoes and vegetables in silence. She didn't appear to hear Basil's laughter and joyous voice, Ami's thin crystal giggles, or my own happy protests at Basil's endless
compliments about my learning abilities, my motor skills, my politeness and mature ways.
"When they first brought you to this house," he said, taking on a more serious tone, folding his hands together and leaning forward, "I thought, what a foolish thing to do, bringing a teenager to live here, and only for a short time at that. Of course," he said, nodding at Ami, "I thought it was nice of my children to do generous things, but I know firsthand how difficult young people can be. Why add more turmoil to your life? Just give the orphanage or whatever a donation. Other people are better equipped for this sort of thing.
"Little did I know that Ami was bringing so refined and accomplished a young lady into our lives. I've heard about your piano teacher's compliments already," he said. "And your accomplishments at school, of course, which is why I said I would like to help you continue your education.
"Ami's our little shopper," he continued, smiling at her. "She always buys the right things, gets Wade the right things, gets the right things for the house, whatever. It shouldn't have surprised me that she went out and did her homework when it came to bringing the right young lady into our home. You're to be congratulated, Ami," he said.
She smiled, glanced at me, and looked down, out of not modesty but sadness, I thought, which sounded a discordant note.
Basil slapped his hands together before I could think any more about it.
"No more speeches. Let's eat!" he declared, and Mrs. Cukor brought out the rack of lamb, staring ahead, I thought, like someone assisting an
executioner, bringing the victim her final meal.
Later I discovered that Mrs. McAlister had baked a chocolate cake inscribed "Congratulations Celeste" in whipped cream for our dessert.
While we ate, Basil asked me if I had any questions about the car and how I was enjoying it so far. I looked at Ami to see if her face would betray what she knew--that I had taken Trevor home after school--but now she looked amused and happy, her small smile stuck around her lips.
I wondered why Wade wasn't home yet, and hoped he would at least appear for dessert. As if my thoughts could affect events, Basil was called to the phone a few minutes later and returned to tell us there had been an accident at the warehouse. One of their workers had been struck by falling pipes and taken to the hospital.
"It's just one of those days," he said, referring to the manager's wife's car accident.
Mrs. Cukor muttered, "Trouble always comes in threes."
"Please," Ami moaned. "We don't need to add to the sadness with dire predictions."
Undaunted, Mrs. Cukor glanced at me sternly before leaving.
"What's Wade doing?" Ami asked Basil.