“You picked very well; this is incredible.” It wasn’t really my type, to be fair it was much too antique-looking for me, but I didn't have it in my heart to be mean to her. She might never be a friend, but she was clearly not a foe either. She’d shown me much more kindness and genuine interest in the 20 minutes since I’d met her than the hours I’d spent with the man I shared genes with.
Her smile brightened as she closed the door behind her. “I picked the furniture and the TV. I know we have about 15 TVs around the house but sometimes we just need our own space just to cuddle with a comfy blanket and watch our favorite programs. The fireplace is gas, the remote is on your nightstand.”
I have never had a fireplace before. I could imagine how nice it would be, lying in bed with a good book and a hot chocolate.
“I picked a few books as well,” she pointed to the bookshelves, “some of my favorites but we can certainly order you others.” She walked on and opened the door to a smaller room full of shelving and other storage space. “This is your walk-in closet; it is quite small and painfully bare, right? But with Anika’s help it will be filled in no time.”
“Small?” I asked, half-expecting her to be joking. “This closet is bigger than my bedroom was at home.”
“You didn't have an easy life, did you?”
“No, but I loved my life.” It was neither cold nor clinical, as this one seemed to be.
I looked out the window, at the blue fancy car that stopped in front of the porch. The driver and passenger doors opened at the same time and two boys around my age stepped out.
The driver was quite tall and lean, blond, so blond that, with the sun reflecting on his hair it looked almost white. He turned his head to the side, allowing me to see how chiselled his face was, his well-defined jaw, straight nose. He was wearing a pair of black pants and a black tight shirt which showed his sinewy muscles. His golden looks, dark attire and statuesque features made him absolutely mesmerizing.
He looked up, as he could feel my gaze on him, and his eyes made me gasp. Even from a distance I could see how blue they were, ice blue, which, along with his golden tanned skin, made him look as if he was just stepping out of some Ralph Lauren commercial.
As he met my eyes, his look turned from blazé to a glare. I frowned. Why so much animosity? I didn’t even know who he was.
He kept his eyes locked with mine but said something to the other boy who looked up at me with a matching glare.
I didn’t need to know him to guess I was now looking at my brother, Archibald Forbes. Archie was the same height as the other boy but wider, broad chest, imposing muscles. Where my hair was a light brown like my mother’s had been his was as dark brown as our father’s, but we shared the same grey eyes, dimpled chin and Grecian nose.
“Ah, Archie’s home.” Sophia confirmed from close behind me, probably wondering what diverted my attention for so long.
Archie’s scowl deepened, before he shrugged dismissively and walked into the house without another look.
The other boy looked at me for a few seconds longer, causing a chill to run down my spine. A chill I was unfamiliar with but was also not negative. He finally let go of my eyes and followed my brother into the house.
“Is he coming up to meet me?” I asked Sophia, turning around as apprehension built in the pit of my stomach at meeting my brother.
“Archie?” She gave me a sad smile, her face so soft. She seemed to be genuinely sorry for me. “No honey, I don't think he will.” She sighed, sitting at the foot of my bed, patting the spot beside her, in a silent invitation to join her. “Your brother is... is a lot like his father.” She said this diplomatically but after spending a few hours in the company of my father I clearly doubted it was a compliment.
“Okay?”
“It takes him quite a long time to warm to people and until he does, you’re not a priority.”
“I see...” I nodded, looking down at my hands. I knew what she was not saying, I was not welcome here. “How long did it take him to warm up to you?”
“I’ll let you know when it happens,” she replied jokingly, but the pain in her eyes was nothing but real.
“How long have you been married to my father?”
“Ummm,” she looked away, thinking. “It will be 10 years in March.” She let out a small startled laugh. “Gosh! Time flies! It seems like yesterday I was a 24-year-old walking down the aisle…” She sighed.
I nodded. He married two years after my mother’s death – it had to be hard on Archie.
“Archie never really accepted me, no matter how much I tried,” she chuckled, but the faint glister of tears in her eyes showed how much it pained her.
I sighed, looking at the ceiling. When I saw the barbie doll walking toward me in the hall, I wanted her to be as cold as my father, I wanted to disregard her as I had disregarded him, but she clearly wasn’t the wicked stepmother I expected to find.
She chose this life though, just like my mother did before her. She knew she was stepping in this gilded cage and she did so gladly whilst I was being forced into it.
“Well at least now you’ve got me.” I offered. I didn’t know if I could trust her, if she was just playing a role but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, I wanted to make a friend in this house, or not even a friend, just someone who wasn’t cold and unfeeling like my father and brother obviously were.
Her smile widened as she rested her hand on top of mine. “I’ve always wanted to have a daughter. Sadly, I’ve not been able to conceive but your father’s been gracious enough not to hold that against me.”
“Gracious not to?” I frowned “Why would he? It’s not like you had a choice in the matter! What are you expected to be? A broodmare?” I snorted.
The look she threw me showed I was not completely off the mark, but before I had a chance to add anything, she stood up briskly.
“Well Anika, the personal shopper will be here soon,” she announced, clasping her hands together.
“I don’t need a personal shopper; I just need my suitcase and backpack. Do you know where they are?”
She shook her head. “No, but your father will never allow you to dress the way you do, Esmeralda.”
“Please, call me Esme.”
She sighed, looking heavenward. “I can call you Esme if you wish, well when we’re together at least, but you need to realize that Esme is no more – she can’t be. Your father is neither understanding nor forgiving.” She walked closer to me and softly, almost tenderly, brought a tendril of my long hair behind my ear, in such a motherly gesture. “Choose your battles wisely, little one, and enjoy the best parts of it fully. Take the clothes, the gifts, the money… take everything you can – it’s the least you deserve for all the sacrifices you’ll have to make.”
I knew it was probably the mantra she repeated to herself for whatever crap my father and brother were putting her through, but what she didn’t understand was that while she’d chosen this life and was resigned to it, I was already thinking about the day I could open the cage and fly away without as much as a look back.
“I also arranged for the school’s official tailor to come this evening with your uniform. She assured me she’ll have it ready tomorrow afternoon for school. We wouldn’t want you to miss the start on Monday.”