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Coast Savings. Belinda said he
always had money to spend and the others kept him
around and called him Pocketbook, even to his face.
Belinda bragged that she just had to look at something
and wish it was hers and he would go buy it for her. He wore a button-down white dress shirt, slacks
and laced dress shoes, but somehow, maybe because of the way his clothes hung on his obese body, he
didn't look any better than the other two.
Quin was their spokesman.
"Good afternoon," he said. "We came to see
how Belinda is doing. We thought we could cheer her
up," he added.
Peter folded his cheeks into a smile and lifted
the box of candy in his hands.
"If it's okay, I'd like to give her this," he said.
"Imported chocolates."
Arnold carried the flowers. He just nodded,
holding them up like the Statue of Liberty holding the
torch.
Daddy said nothing. He had a way of holding
his words back just a moment longer than anyone
anticipated. It was something he did to put people off
rhythm, a way of testing them. The silence, as short as
it was, made the three boys uncomfortable. They
gazed quickly at each other, squirmed in their clothes
and looked from me to my mother to the floor and
then back to Daddy.
"I brought her some notes from classes she's
missed, too," Peter added reaching into his pants
pocket to produce some papers.
"That's very thoughtful," Mother finally said. "Aren't you boys afraid of getting sick
yourselves so close to the end of the school year?"
Daddy questioned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "No sir," Arnold replied quickly.
"We won't get that close to her," Quin added,
digging the corner of his mouth deeper into his cheek.
Peter widened his smile.
"I hope not," Daddy muttered. "Olivia," he said
turning to me. I knew what that meant. He wanted me
to show them to Belinda's room and remain as a chaperone.
I rose with obvious reluctance.
"Maybe she's asleep," I said.
"She knows we're coming," Quin quickly
inserted. "We called earlier and told her we'd be here
about now."
"She should have told us, too," I muttered,
gazing at Daddy. He nodded his agreement but said
nothing more. Instead, he went to his newspaper and
then plucked one of his cigars out of the case on the
table beside him.
"Are those Havana cigars, Mr. Gordon?" Peter
asked as Daddy began to light it.
Daddy raised his eyebrows.
"What do you know about cigars?"
"Not much, but my father smokes Havanas. I
can get some for you," he added, his attempt to win
favor blatantly obvious.
"I'm quite capable of getting my own," Daddy
replied sternly.
"Are you here to visit Belinda or jabber with
my father?" I asked them.
Quin poked Peter with his elbow and the three
followed me out of the study and to the stairway. "Normally, my parents don't approve of my
sister having male visitors in her room," I said as I led
them up. One of them snickered, but I didn't give him
the satisfaction of showing I had heard.
I paused outside Belinda's bedroom door and
turned as the three gathered anxiously around me.
What power did Belinda possess to cause young men
to exhibit such enthusiasm and desire? I wondered.
Was it simply her promiscuity or did she indeed have
something extra, something I could never have,
something given at birth, a quality of excitement, a
promise that stirred their male hormones like witches
stirred their brew.
"Just a moment," I said. They were breathing
down my neck in anticipation. If they were horses,
they'd be choking on their bridles and snorting, I
thought. I knocked.
"Yes?" Belinda called.
"You have visitors. Are you decent?" "Yes, Olivia. They can come in," she said and I
opened the door.
Anyone looking at Belinda now would surely
challenge my report of her birthing. Even I had to
admit I was impressed with how radiant she looked. I
knew Carmelita hadn't been up here after breakfast, so
it was clear Belinda had straightened up her room and
opened the curtains wide to permit the soft, bright
sunshine to come pouring through, making everything
look clean and