Pretence
Dez went to bed that night. She had sat out on her little balcony watching the shadows grow long in the park across the street. When the street lights came on, she still hadn’t decided what she would do if Em’s lawyer said Martha’s duplex would have to be sold. Putting her sweater on, she went out for a walk to a coffee shop buzzing with patrons. She stood a moment in the doorway. Not a table in sight. Between the music jousting with the conversation, she changed her mind. “I’ll make coffee at home.” She held the door open for a young laughing couple wrapped around each other before making her escape into the early night. Home again, she did go off to bed. The fresh air had banished all her worries. She fell asleep moments after her head nestled into her pillow.
~~~~~
Monday morning, instead of waiting for Em to meet her in the afternoon, Dez drove out to the Estate. She stopped in the kitchen only long enough to get coffee and toast from Cook. “Is Em upstairs, Cook? I’ll take this upstairs ~ maybe you can give me some for Em.”
Always one step ahead of everyone, Cook gestured to the old dumbwaiter “Don’t need to do that, Miss Dez ~ coffee and toast already went up to her. She’s probably sitting down to eat it now. Sent up some strawberries too so you’d best get up there before she eats them all.”
Grateful, Dez gave Cook a kiss on her cheek, which surprised Cook to no end. Even if they had all gotten close in the last year, such a thing shouldn’t happen! Her employer’s sister?! But she just smiled and touched her cheek ~ after Miss Dez had turned away to go upstairs. “I wonder what’s got her so worked up? That’s just not like her.” Dez had always respected the strange upstairs/downstairs feeling that sometimes seemed present in the old place. Today, she felt oddly excited about this lawyer’s visit in the afternoon. Given her worries over the weekend, it didn’t make sense.
“Em ~ save me some strawberries.” Dez, halfway up the stairs, called out to her sister. “Don’t worry, I’ve kept a few back for you. Heard you talking to Cook and knew you’d want some. Why are you out here? We’ve got that appointment this afternoon ~ I thought that you would be busy this morning.” Dez put her toast and coffee down on the table. From the pouch slung over her shoulder she pulled out some papers yellowed with age. “Look at these Em. And don’t laugh. I had this plan this years ago but have never been able to do anything to make them real. And maybe I still won’t if the lawyer ~ what did you say his name was…Mr. Jordan? ~ says what I think he’ll say. But I want you to see them first………” Em held up her hand but her sister just kept talking. “Dez….Dez… what are you talking about? What plans? What worries?” She glanced at the papers Dez had given her. A lot of scribbles and notes, on one page a sketch, so faded she could barely see it. She held it out to her sister “What is this sketch Dez?”
“That’s what I want to show you.” She finished her toast, the last of her coffee, and ate up the last strawberry. “Are you finished eating? We need to go outside and I can show you what the sketch is.” She was out the door almost before her sister could say another word.
~~~~~
“You know. This could work, Dez.” The sisters were out at the jogging track. They had walked slowly around, stopping every now and then. Pointing, stepping off the path almost right in the shrubbery, pretending to sit on a non-existent bench, moving on. Animated conversation all the way to the far end. Dez took her sister over to the space where the old garage had been. More waving of arms sketching the outlines of what…a building of some kind.
“Dez! It’s almost noon! That appointment with Mr. Jordan is at two. We’d better get back to the house and have lunch. I need to stop and ask Digby if I should take anything with me…..You know..if this all works out, I mean with Mr. Jordan…..we’ll know if we could make it work.” Em sounded almost as excited as Dez.
Let’s go around to the kitchen door. Cook was making soup this morning so we should have a good lunch. As she reached to open the door, she stopped, paused and said “Just think, Em. This Writing Workshop is something I wanted to set up years ago. I’d almost forgotten about it. But I wanted to add something to the Estate that would bring in some money. It popped into my head ~ I didn’t even know if I still had my notes and that sketch.” Walking into the kitchen she muttered under her breath. “I don’t know for sure if it’s such a good idea or not.”
~~~~~
Mr. Jordan had his secretary clear his schedule for the afternoon. Although he had heard that Mrs. Beaufort had ‘gotten better’ since the reading of the will four years prior, he wasn’t taking any chances. Mr. Digby seldom spoke of his employer, but when he did it was with warmth. They had crossed paths at social functions where she had always been pleasant and sociable. She had seemed softer? Now her sister would be with her. He had no idea what she was like so thought it best to clear his afternoon.
His office was where he felt safe. The polished oak desk, heavy sage green curtains and the deep grey carpet kept things muffled. Law books, with a sprinkling of poets and playwrights, in floor to ceiling bookshelves felt solid. Diplomas hung on the wall reminded him that he had come a long way from the rowdy teenager he had been. ‘Mr. J. Jordan’ engraved on a brass name plate, a dark brown telephone and the Beaufort file were all that he had on his desk. He knew how pretentious he must seem to others. Yet on a sideboard, he had his own coffee machine, law firm mugs, cream and sugar. Tea and hot water for those that preferred it. Breaking his reverie, his always discreet secretary buzzed on his phone. He pressed a button. “Mrs. Beaufort and her sister are here. May I show them in?”
“Yes please.” Face mask on, he stood, greeting his client and her sister. “Mrs. Beaufort. So good to see you outside a society function. This is your sister?” Emelina was more nervous than she’d been in years. She hadn’t remembered this office being so patently rich feeling. Her voice belied her discomfort. “Yes. Dez Eliot ~ this is the family lawyer, Mr. Jordan.” Silent, she nodded her greeting. “Please leave your masks on if you feel comfortable. This pandemic, although not over, is still a problem for many. While I’m going over the will for you, I’ll be removing mine.” He walked to the sideboard. “Coffee? Tea?”
~~~~~
Emelina and Dez were silent while they walked back to Em’s car in the shadows of the office buildings. Climbing in to the SUV, Em started the car, Dez put on her seat belt. Hands on the steering wheel, Emelina leaned her forehead on it. And started to laugh. “I was so nervous!” Dez leaned against the window, tears rolling down her cheeks. “And I…..was……so……worried.” Her sister let go of the steering wheel and leaned back on the head rest. “Then….he offered us…coffee or tea!” She sat up, wiped her face with the back of her hand, buckled her seat belt and backed out of the parking space. They drove to the Estate discussing their plans all the way.
“We understand how dangerous a mask can be.
We all become what we pretend to be.”
~ Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
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