"Where are we going?"
"There is this really nice hotel only five miles away. They have a great lounge, a talented piano player. Don't worry. You look old enough, and I know the manager anyway. We won't have any trouble. How many times have you used a fake ID?" she asked, her eyes twinkling in expectation.
"None," I said.
"None? C'mon, Celeste. We're going to be like sisters. You don't have to worry about telling me anything, remember?"
"I'm telling you the truth. I went to a party once where they had whiskey and beer, but I didn't drink any."
She raised her eyebrows.
"I thought girls who lived in orphanages were a lot looser than that."
"They have a lot of rules, and I didn't want to disappoint Mother Higgins. She's always been very kind to me," I said.
She looked at me askance again, and then she smiled.
"You just haven't had the opportunity for fun yet. Now you will," she vowed.
Somehow, it sounded more like a threat.
We rode on. She turned up the radio and laughed.
"Yes, my Celestial one, an opportunity for fun."
The hotel she took us to was called the Stone House. It wasn't very big, and it actually looked more like a motel to me because of the way the rooms were spread out from either end of the main building. The main building had a fieldstone facing, an overhang under which we drove to the valet to park the car, and two large glass doors that opened to a tiled lobby. The walls inside the lobby were also faced in fieldstone, or perhaps imitation stone. I wasn't sure. There was lots of dark wood, beams and paneling. The reception desk was on the right, and behind it was a large aquarium filled with beautiful colored fish. The woman behind the counter recognized Ami immediately and smiled.
"Good evening, Mrs. Emerson," she said.
She looked to be about fifty, with very poor hair coloring that made her hair look too orange instead of blond.
"Good evening, Mrs. Stone," Ami said.
Mrs. Stone stared at her a moment and then smiled.
"Oh, Mrs. Emerson. I didn't recognize you for a moment. You've done something new with your hair, the color."
"Just a touch," Ami said, and I looked at her. What change had she made? Had she made it more auburn? More like mine? "Meet Celeste. She's come to live with us a while."
&nb
sp; "Hello, there," Mrs. Stone said. "Are you from a foreign country, an exchange student?"
"She's not from a foreign country, but from the way she's been living, she might as well have been," Ami kidded. Mrs. Stone looked confused.
I said hello, and then Ami turned me toward the entrance to the bar and restaurant. We could hear the music. The piano player was singing what I recognized to be an Elton John song.
"She and her husband own the place. That's why it's called the Stone House, but people kid about it and say it's because everyone who comes here gets stoned," Ami told me.
Unlike the owner, the maitre d' was able to recognize Ami, but made a comment about her hair as well.
"I hope it's flattering," she told him, and he quickly said it was.
"We'll just go to the bar tonight, Ray," she told him. He fixed his eyes on me suspiciously. "Don't worry. Everything is copacetic," she added.
He nodded, but his smile indicated he didn't believe her.
"I spend too much money here for anyone to give us any trouble," she whispered.