Dark Homecoming by William Patterson Page B

her, but she couldn’t reach him . . .
    She hopped into the shower in the bathroom adjoining her bedroom, hoping the hot water would bring her fully awake. For such a deep long sleep, Liz didn’t feel rested. She felt as if she must have tossed and turned all night. She always felt that way when she had dreams about her father. As the water cascaded over her face, she wondered where her father was now. He had sent Mom child-support payments for about a year, then vanished, presumably finding another life for himself, possibly with other daughters—better behaved daughters, more obliging, more obedient, who didn’t make him want to run away.
    Or maybe , Liz thought as she toweled herself dry, Daddy’s dead.
    But she didn’t think so. She imagined him still out there, walking his beautiful, obedient daughter down the aisle in a magnificent church wedding. He would lift her veil and tell her how much he loved her and how proud of her he was.
    Liz got dressed, combed her hair, and ran a lipstick lightly over her lips. It was time she went downstairs and faced this life she had found for herself.
    Mrs. Hoffman was waiting in the dining room. She smiled at Liz’s entrance, though her cheeks and eyes barely moved as usual.
    â€œI trust you slept well then,” the housekeeper said.
    â€œYes, thank you,” Liz replied, taking her seat.
    â€œRita,” Mrs. Hoffman called to a maid. “Will you bring Mrs. Huntington her breakfast?”
    Liz watched as the young woman carried a tray into the room. Just as she had seemed that day at the pool, Rita was pretty—very pretty, in fact. Dark hair and dark eyes.
    Just like Dominique.
    â€œHere you go,” Rita said, placing the plate of what looked like scrambled eggs, rice, and tomatoes in front of Liz. “Variola said she made it special for you. Ham and egg jambalaya. A Cajun dish.”
    â€œSmells delicious,” Liz said. “Thank Variola for me. She needn’t have gone to any trouble. I could just have had some toast.”
    â€œBut you haven’t joined us for breakfast since you’ve been here,” Rita replied. “Variola has been waiting to make you something special, and we’ve all been waiting to get to know you.”
    Liz looked over at the young woman’s face. The other day she had seemed distant, but now her eyes were kind. She offered Liz a sincere smile. Liz was touched.
    â€œThank you,” she said. “I’m very grateful to everyone here for all they’ve done since I arrived, and everything you all did to prepare for my arrival. I’m sorry if I’ve been staying mostly in my room. It’s just—”
    â€œI understand, ma’am,” Rita said. “It’s a big house. It’s a lot to get used to. If there’s anything I can do to help you get adjusted, please let me know.”
    Liz smiled. “You’re very kind,” she said.
    â€œIsn’t she, though?” Mrs. Hoffman asked, moving over to stand beside Liz. A look from those frozen eyes sent Rita scurrying back into the kitchen. The housekeeper dropped her gaze down to Liz. “I’d watch out for that one,” she said once Rita was gone.
    Liz had begun eating her jambalaya. It tasted as good as it smelled. “But she seemed so sweet . . . so sincere . . .”
    â€œIt’s just that she can get overly familiar,” Mrs. Hoffman said. “I know Mrs. Huntington was always just a little wary of her. Excuse me. I meant the first Mrs. Huntington.”
    â€œWell, I’ll keep your words in mind,” Liz said. “But I prefer to make my own judgments of people.”
    â€œOf course. And I’m sure you’ll find everyone here to be most accommodating of you. In time, I’m sure they will all learn to love you as they loved her.”
    â€œYou mean Dominique?”
    â€œYes,” Mrs. Hoffman replied, still standing over Liz, watching her like