"Of course he's right, I suppose," she admitted. "What are you going to wear tomorrow?"
"I don't know. I hadn't thought about it."
"Wear the blue skirt and the blouse we got at Femme Fatale. You have that blue cardigan sweater. It's smart. Oh, and wear the dress watch, too. Here," she added, pulling a gold band filled with diamonds off her left hand. "Wear this too. You have to look the part you're playing."
I hesitated, and she grabbed my hand and put the ring on me. It fit well.
"Tomorrow, we conquer new worlds," she declared, hugged and kissed me, and went into her bedroom.
I remember thinking I must be more like Wade. Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep. I did wake up in the middle of the night, but I thought I was still asleep and dream.ing. I heard what sounded again like Ami's muffled sobbing. I listened, and then it stopped. I was just too tired to get up and see if anyone was out there. In seconds I was back to sleep and didn't wake until my phone rang and I heard Wade say, "I knew she would oversleep and not call you. It's time to get up and dressed. I'll be taking you to school and enrolling you," he added.
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"Thank you," I said.
I lay there for a moment or two, trying to make sense out of the night, the dreams, and then got up.
When I opened my bedroom door to go downstairs to breakfast, I found a small head of garlic tied to the handle.
This time, I left it there.
8 A New School
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"She will be full of apologies later," Wade told me after we got into his car and started for the Dickinson School. "Of course, she'll also tell you it wasn't that serious to miss your first day. You could have enrolled just as well later in the day or the next day. Schedules, rules, appointments, were never that important to Ami. I'm afraid her parents were what are euphemistically called permissive parents these days. She was practically on her own from the day she could walk and talk.
"She doesn't mean to be hurtful, however. And I am trying to change her, get her to be more responsible. I wouldn't admit it to her," he added, smiling at me, "but I actually enjoy the way she handles some of my and my father's more conceited acquaintances. She has a lot more courage than I do when it comes to things like that.
"Anyway, I'm sure you'll like the teachers at this school. A student like you will be a breath of fresh air to them, believe me. Just don't pick up any of the bad habits littering the hallways, lockers, and girls' bathrooms. Everyone has bad habits. Rich kids simply have more money to spend on them."
"Did you attend a private school?" I asked him, assuming he was giving me the benefit of his own experiences.
"Me?" He laughed. "No, my father believed a school was a school was a school. What difference did it make where you attended? 'One and one is two in any school in the country, Wade,' he was fond of saying. My family could easily have afforded to send me to a private school," he added with some bitterness running through his voice. "I was always a good student, so he thought it didn't matter, but the truth is, I would have gotten a better education. My teachers were too occupied with discipline problems. The one good thing about private school is they can throw you out more easily. Whenever there is money involved, even permissive parents suddenly take more interest.
"I was accepted to Harvard Business, but my father made me attend a far less expensive institution in Albany. 'You're going to end up working for me anyway,' he would tell me. 'What difference does it make what's written on your diploma?' My mother was on my side, but by then she was sickly, and I didn't want to cause any more havoc around her."
He looked at me and smiled.
"I know. Here I am describing how difficult my life was, and there you are probably wishing you had my opportunities."
I didn't want to say, No, never--I don't envy you at all. I thought it would hurt his feelings if I said such a thing, so I simply smiled back.
"So you do remember a lot of your early life, living on that farm?"
"Remarkably, yes," I said.
"One of these days I'd like to hear about it. I read stuff, of course, and to be honest, I thought you would be quite different from the way you are, having been brought up in a world full of mysticism and superstition. To her credit, I suppose, Ami never had any reservations about you. From what I see so far, she might be smarter than I am."
"Thank you," I said. I hesitated, but since he had made reference to mysticism and superstition, I asked about Mrs. Cukor.
"Other people might not keep her on so long with her so-called peculiarities," I commented.
"Probably not, but she's very protective of the Emersons. She was truly a second mother to me at times, and Dad believes she brings him good luck. Keeps the evil stuff away," he added. "He's more into that sort of thing than you'd think, and Mrs. Cukor has ways of convincing him she's protecting us all."
"I know exactly what you mean."
"Yes. Ami told me what she put under your pillow."