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Subject: {ASSM} TG Charlott's Niece by Pamela Chapter 6a
Date: Sun, 9 Apr 2000 17:11:16 -0400
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Posted for Pamela at her request. I am not the author of this ongoing novel.
--V.T. Earlier chapters are on www.Fictionmania.com
Charlotte's Niece
by
Pamela (pamelapamela@hotmail.com)
Chapter 6a
I found Lei at the dining room table when I stumbled out of bed the next
morning looking for breakfast. It was just a couple of days before she was
to go out west and I must admit I felt more than a little sad at the thought
of not seeing her for the rest of the summer. Lei looked up from her cereal
when I sat down across from her and said "good morning."
"Good morning," I answered, "looking forward to your trip?"
"I'll say! It'll be great to get away from here! Not that I don't appreciate
all that Charlotte has done for me."
"I thought you thought it was neat staying here?" I said with some
consternation.
"At the start, but I really find Ethel with all her weird cleaning tips to
be more than I can take. I don't know how you can stand it!"
"What do you mean, 'stand it'?"
"You seem to me like you're having a great time. That's what I've been
writing to mom and dad."
"You've been away like every night Lei. Except last night. I've been really
pissed off at Charlotte and Ethel myself!"
"I'm surprised, because last night it didn't seem like you had any problem
with the 10 O'clock curfew. It would have blown my mind!"
"It did blow my mind! But Charlotte said, that she'd lock me out for the
night if I came back late!"
"God, your joking! I mean she must have been joking!"
"I wish she was. No, she seemed totally serious when she said it."
"She's just bluffing. I'm sure it would be illegal for her to do that. Its
crazy!"
"Gee, Lei, so what else is new?"
I could see Lei's face scrunched up thinking about the situation. I began to
feel a small worry at the pit of my stomach.
"Maybe I should talk to her; like put her straight about it."
"She gave me some line about it was for my own safety, and that if she was
to have responsibility for me, she couldn't trust me out alone that late."
"Well, maybe all you have to do is suggest that she come get you, say at 11,
or that you could have your friends' parent escort you back?"
"Yeah, that's a good idea. Maybe Charlotte would accept that."
"Ask her tonight, politely, and maybe it'll be OK with her."
"I will."
We ate our breakfasts in silence for a while, when Lei said, "you know you
can always call mom and dad long distance and let them know what's
happening. I mean if something like crazy happens."
"What do you mean?" I asked, Lei was scaring me.
"No, nothing more than to say that if she really did lock you out, all
you'd have to do is place a long distance call to mom and dad and they'll
figure out some way you could be taken care of until they fly back. They
have lots of friends around the city. Maybe you should carry the phone
number with you.
"Jesus, Lei, I think I can take care of Charlotte and Ethel! All I'd have to
do is go to the police station!"
"I suppose you're right. Anyway, the summer will race along with all the
work your doing!"
"I think so too."
Lei got up to carry her cereal bowl back to the kitchen. "Could you wash
the bowl for me? I'm in a rush to get my haircut at 10."
"Sure, no problem," I said out loud, and then thought to myself, "after
all, I do all the other dishes around here!"
**********************************
I spent the day in the library, knowing full well that it was best to avoid
the apartment lest Ethel cook up some new job for me. At 3:15 I was engaged
in reading a particularly interesting article, when I remembered that Ethel
wanted me back at 3:30 to help out for Charlotte's "evening with the
ladies," whatever that was. Since the apartment was just 15 minutes away, I
could just make it back on time if I left immediately. I closed the journal
volume I was reading and got up to go. A sudden flash of resentment swept
over me. This is so unfair! Why should I give up a couple of hours of
research for Charlotte's crummy friends! I sat down again and resumed
reading, but every minute I stopped and thought about what I was doing.
Finally, it was 3:30 and I got up and hurriedly left for the apartment. I'd
just tell Ethel I got delayed for some reason or another. I could say I ran
into a friend who had an emergency and I had to help them out, or something
like that.
Upon re-entering the apartment, I saw Ethel was scurrying around in the
kitchen. She gave me a sour look when she saw me and said, "my goodness,
where have you been? I've had to make the whole dinner myself!"
"I had to work on my project. I'm just a few minutes late."
"No excuse, Greg. You'll have to really get a move on if we're to get
everything done by the time Charlotte and her friends come home."
The thought of doing hours of boring chores depressed me and I tried to make
my face show it. "Let me put my stuff away and I'll be right back." My voice
was anything but nice. I turned to walk away when Ethel said, "you left
your room just lovely today! The bed was made beautifully, your drawers are
perfect and the carpet and everything else. Congratulations!"
I had taken a lot of extra time this morning trying to get it right. It
seemed like the best way to get Ethel off my back. "That's partly why I came
home later: it took me a long time this morning to do it!"
"Well, the effort paid off."
I wish I knew why, but the compliment from Ethel felt good.
After washing up, I came back to the kitchen. "Before you make the salad,
here, put this on," Ethel said handing me an apron. It was black with a
thin, white, lace trim around the edges and on the shoulder straps.
Holding up to look at it, I said, "I can't wear this!"
"Oh, pshaw!" Ethel laughed, "its only you and I here."
"But its obviously for a girl!"
"The only other apron is this pink one," Ethel said, taking out a print pink
apron from the closet. It was covered with white lace and easily matched the
clothes in my room. "I was sure you wouldn't wear this one!"
"Why do I need an apron!"
"Because today you need to help with the cooking and I don't want you to get
your clothes all messed up."
"Oh, all right," I said. What would be the point of refusing. I put the top
loop of the apron over my head and Ethel tied the sash across my back.
Looking down at the lace, I felt silly, but I'd take it off the moment
Charlotte came home with her friends.
I set to work making the salad. When that was done, she had me neatly make
canapes and arrange them on a tray. She took down a new jar of olives from
the cupboard and tried to open it without success. She handed it to me and
asked me to open it. I grabbed it hard and tried turning the lid. It
wouldn't budge. I tried again until my fingers hurt. "I'll have to soak the
lid in hot water," I said.
"Don't bother, Charlotte will open it." I couldn't believe that Charlotte
could open it, so I picked it up and tried once again with all my strength.
It wouldn't move. In disgust I put it on the counter. "She'll have a very
hard time with it," I said, "I can't get it at all."
"You don't know Charlotte!" Ethel laughed. "Now you can get out the fancy
china and silverware and set the table." She directed me to a drawer in the
breakfront and I set out to work. The dishes were attractive and the silver
service gleamed. The dinner was going to be very elegant, I thought.
When I was back in the kitchen, Ethel took out a vase, filled it part way
with water and set it on the counter. She handed me a bouquet of flowers
wrapped in green paper. "Do you know how to flower arrange?" she asked.
"No, I've never done it."
"Well here's your chance! Try and make the arrangement as pretty as
possible. I'll help you if you're heading in the wrong direction."
It was nice that she gave me so much responsibility and I concentrated on
the task.
I must have some talent, since Ethel only had to make a few comments along
the way, before I had a really beautiful arrangement of daises, pansies and
carnations. "My, my how pretty," Ethel said and held it up to admire.
"That's a beautiful centerpiece!"
It was actually kind of nice working with Ethel. She was cheerful and I
regretted my earlier gruff tone.
"Should I wash some dishes?," I asked.
"Good idea," she said.
While I was washing, Ethel asked me about how my project was going and I
told her. She then said, "it really pleases Charlotte that she can help
you out. She hasn't really ever had an opportunity to help a young person
before."
"What about her niece?" I said.
Ethel looked at me strangely. "What niece?"
"You know, Charlotte's niece." I said.
"What are you talking about? Charlotte doesn't have a niece! She doesn't
even have any brothers or sisters."
"She told me she did. She said all the girls clothes in my room, the ones
that were there when I moved in belong to her niece."
Ethel shook her head slowly and sadly and made a sound like "tut, tut, tut."
Then she looked up at me. "Greg, honey, can you keep a secret?"
"Sure," I said, surprised that she would engage me in a conspiracy about
Charlotte.
"I do believe that you can," she said, "so let me tell you something which
is for your ears only." Ethel looked back down at a casserole dish she was
filling with noodles. "Charlotte had a tragic accident about ten years ago
when she was in her early thirties. I don't want to go into that now. Its
very private. But the bottom line was that she had thought she was to be the
mom of a baby girl, but it didn't happen. She had bought some clothes in
anticipation of the happy event, but then they weren't needed. She had
almost a closet full of pretty little dresses and baby panties; things for
the new girl baby." Ethel stopped and I noticed tears forming in her eyes.
"But the clothes in my room are for an older girl," I said as gently as I
could.
Ethel pulled out a little hanky from her sleeve and blew her nose. "That
maybe is the real tragedy. Later Charlotte found out that she could never
have children. In time she manufactured a fantasy in her mind about having
a "niece" who she was raising. Her niece is the grown up baby she never had.
I suppose its a lot like "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf." Have you seen
the play? or the movie?
"No."
"Well you really ought to. Its one of the most moving films ever made, and
it might help explain some of Charlotte for you. But getting back to the
clothes, Charlotte's fantasy evolved over the years into buying clothes for
her niece. In her fantasy she's moved out, leaving behind some of her
clothes. Charlotte's niece just absolutely loves frou-frou, as you can
tell!"
"God, its so tragic!" I said, choking with emotion. A few tears crowded in
the corners of my eyes. Ethel noticed them and said, "oh you precious dear,"
and then came and held me, while I sobbed for a minute. "I'm sorry for
upsetting you!"
Regaining my composure, I said, "I had no idea!"
"Just forget it. Charlotte doesn't want anybody feeling sorry for her!"
I thought about what Ethel had said for awhile. Then in a lull I asked her,
"Ethel?"
"Yes honey?"
It was first time she had called me honey, and I suppose it was because I
had been so sympathetic to her story about Charlotte. It did feel good to be
good. "I was just wondering why you do all that you do for Charlotte?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know. You come in here and make sure the apartment is as clean as she
likes, and you cook for her. Just look at today. There is so much work
involved!"
"Charlotte is a good friend to me." She knew herself that that sounded a
bit lame.
"You might not understand, Greg. Charlotte and I go way back together. She
is, how can I say it? Charismatic? Yes, thats a good word. I am so thrilled
to be with her, that I am happy for the chance to help her. And lord knows
what with all she has been through, there is lots of ways one can help her!"
I realized that my own mom was probably feeling just what Ethel did. How
else to explain why we started seeing so much of Charlotte. I wondered if my
dad found her "charismatic." My thoughts jumped to recalling last week's
taxi drive. That had been closer to a woman than I had ever been before. Up
close like that Charlotte did seem kind of hypnotic. I remembered sucking
her thumb and thought that I wouldn't mind doing it again, if I could.
My thoughts were interrupted by Ethel, "what are you thinking about, you've
grown awfully quiet!"
"I was just thinking about what you said, and that its too bad Charlotte has
had some bad things happen to her. Is there anything I can do to help her?"
Ethel laughed. "No, no, Greg, Charlotte doesn't need your help. She's really
a very, very strong, woman!"
"Like with the olive jar!"
Ethel laughed. "She'll make us both look like such wimps! I guarantee it!"
The thought was amusing and I found myself laughing along with Ethel.
**************************
At six o'clock, Charlotte arrived with four women friends. I rushed out with
Ethel to take their coats and hang them in the closet. Charlotte introduced
me to the ladies as "Lillian's young son Greg." Without missing a beat, one
of them touched the lace edge of my apron and said, "Charlotte, did you say
'son'? Charlotte let out a belly laugh and the other ladies joined in. I
frantically tried to undo the knot in back of the apron but Ethel must not
have used a simple slip knot since it was tightly on. I tried to pull it
over my head but it wouldn't move. The women laughed harder watching my
struggles, until finally Ethel came over to untie me. As I stood there beet
red in the face, she said, "poor Greg, I made him wear the apron; its all my
fault. Give me a minute to figure out this knot!"
When finally the apron was off, the women good naturedly apologized for the
joke at my expense. "So you're a young man, after all!" the one who had had
the quick tongue added. I'm Gladys Sontag, and the other ladies are Ms.
Angela Pauley, Ms. Sara Gence and Ms. Rita McCain."
I shook their outstretched hands. All except Ms. Sontag were Charlotte's
age. She, on the other hand was perhaps ten years younger, in her late
twenties, I would have guessed. She was the only one of the women, besides
Charlotte, to be wearing a skirt. The rest had on dark tailored pant suits.
None had an excess of makeup or jewelry. They were attractive, but only
Ms. Sontag and Ms. McCain were what one might consider really gorgeous. Ms.
Sontag had long auburn hair and, like all the women I had been meeting
lately, she had a well developed chest, which I was hard pressed not to
stare at. Ms. McCain's features were perfectly set on her face; her skin was
white and she had raven black hair. She reminded me of Diana Rigg, my
favorite actress.
Charlotte had the women get comfortable in the living room. As they settled
into the sofas and arm chairs, Ethel nudged me to ask them what they would
drink. I was shy about interrupting their conversation, but it wasn't more
than a few moments before Charlotte said,
"Greg, dear, you know we're all very thirsty!"
"Yes, Charlotte, what do they want?" I said.
"Go ask them Greg."
The room was silent now and I turned to Ms. Sontag who was sitting next to
Charlotte. "What would you like to drink?" I asked awkwardly.
"What do you have?" she said smiling.
"Martinis? We have martinis."
"What else?"
I was at a complete loss, since martinis was all that Charlotte ever had. I
turned to Charlotte and made a face.
"Gladys, you'll have to excuse the help! He's new on the job!"
Charlotte meant it as a joke and the women laughed. "Greg, we probably have
a bottle of wine and there is scotch, bourbon. How about a gin and tonic?"
"That sounds great, I'll have a gin and tonic."
I hadn't the slightest idea how to make one, or even what it was.
"Charlotte..." I said under my breath.
She didn't hear me, and said to Ms. McCain, "Rita, what would you like?"
"To keep it simple honey, just make me a gin and tonic also, and I'll bet
everybody will have one! Except Charlotte of course!"
"Got that honey?" Charlotte asked. "Four gin and tonics and my usual
martini."
I went to fetch the drinks, and with Ethel's help was able to make the gin
and tonics. I put them on a small glass tray and carefully carried them
over to the ladies. I walked slowly and tightly clutched the tray, like it
was a bomb which would ignite at the slightest movement. I came up to Ms.
Sontag and Charlotte and they took their drinks and then I went around to
the others. Relieved that I hadn't spilled anything, I went back to the
kitchen where Ethel was in the final state of preparing the dinner.
She saw the jar of olives, still unopened, and told me to take it out to
Charlotte. I didn't want to do it in front of the women, and hesitated,
but Ethel told me to snap to it. I gave it one more try until my hand hurt
and then took it out to the Charlotte. I had to interrupt her and ask her
to open the jar, "Ethel said you should open this."
Amused, Charlotte looked at me and said, "its OK if you open it. There is
no need to interrupt us for that!"
"I can't open it Charlotte. I hurt my hand, it won't budge. Its really a
tough one. I think we should soak it in hot water or something."
"Let me see," Charlotte said. She took the jar from my hand, and gripped
the lid. I couldn't help but notice the feminine way in which she held it,
with her long pink polished finger nails. With a little twist and a slight
grunt I heard the lid pop open. "I don't think it was that hard. Maybe
we'll have to enroll you in Gold's Gym."
"I loosened it!" I cried.
Charlotte and the women laughed. I turned away and ran back to the kitchen.
"Here, you forgot the olives," Charlotte said, and I had to return to get
them from her.
I heard Gladys Sontag say, "Charlotte, you're being too hard on him" and
then there was more laughter.
**************************
end Charlotte's Niece 6a
VickieTern@AOL.COM
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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