Cassie Thornton slumped into her brown recliner, heaving a huge sigh of relief after finding no messages on her answering machine. This was the first time in three weeks her services as a caterer weren’t needed. She giggled remembering her friend, Patti Medera’s, account of her first and last Princess Cupcake Party. Dora, the birthday girl now thirteen, looked funny with all that icing on her face. The photographer placed this picture in the society paper with the headline Birthday Mishap. Doreen, her mother, sent her to stay with her grandmother at the vineyards in Connecticut during her break on Thanksgiving. Doreen was good at one thing: being offended by getting embarrassed. A true sign of someone totally stuck up and bent on image. What made this even more laughable was that no normal twelve year-old wanted a princess cupcake party, usually reserved for six to eight year-olds. Most teenage celebrations nowadays were sleepovers, pizza parties, pool parties, or skating parties.
The phone rang, startling Cassie. After listening to the phone call, she was even more confused. Why did Dora’s grandmother, Elaine, want to see her? The mishap at the party had nothing to do with her. Patti catered to parties for young girls. Cassie was curious to say the least. Dora’s grandmother paid for her ticket to Connecticut via the red eye, wanting to see her the next day. After forwarding text messages to her friends and family of the situation on her smart phone, she went to the hall closet to retrieve her luggage. For the next thirty minutes, Cassie packed enough clothing for two weeks. Most of her good skirts, slacks, and tops went into a 23 inch Samsonite black garment bag. She chose conservative colors: hunter green, navy blue, brown and black with a matching white top, except for a cream color that went with her brown skirt and pants. The standard black low-heeled shoes were all she owned, good enough for two weeks. Five pairs of jeans and her favorite checkered or striped tops with a pair of white sneakers followed into the large black 29 inch wheeled upright. Most of the time, when not catering, she wore jeans and a t-shirt or Easter egg pastel colored lounging clothes: lavender, baby blue, bright green and pink, which she slept in along with the white boot slippers and robe. She carried enough underwear to last a month and an emergency stash of panty liners, sanitary napkins, and tampons. A girl scout was always prepared. No one, not even the help was seen around the house or in public looking like a slob when chaperoning the Lancaster heir for the holidays. Even the companion had to look well put together. Into the small carry-on, all her make up and toiletries were tossed in, including her vitamins, travel snacks, and her book of verses. Before calling for a car to JFK airport Cassie went through a mental list of things in all three bags. Remembering the pantyhose in the top drawer of her bedroom dresser, she grabbed the six pair on top, cramming them into the carry-on bag just as the car service buzzed at the door.
We are about to land. You should adjust your seat, Ma’am,” said the stewardess, who tapped her on the shoulder.
Cassie rubbed her eyes, wishing she had another thirty minutes. She hoped beds at the Lancaster estate were comfortable. “Thanks.”
Cassie waited at the gate and saw a six-foot man in a chauffeur’s uniform holding up a sign with her name on it. Taking her bags off the conveyor belt, she placed her garment bag and carry-on on top of the upright after pulling the handle out, before hearing her name called and she answered, “I’m she.”
“James Wright, Lancaster chauffeur. Are these your bags, Miss?
“Yes.”
Taking the handle he said, “Follow me, please.”
The twenty-minute ride to the Lancaster estate was a bumpy one. The driveway had cobblestones all the way to the front door. A Mrs. Reed let them in. Cassandra swallowed hard when she saw the large winding staircase. Her legs throbbed just thinking about climbing all those white marble steps at this hour. Mrs. Reed, a stout woman of at least 40 with salt and pepper hair, motioned toward an elevator.
“This is a blessing, especially after that long walk in the terminal. Mrs. Lancaster requested your presence at breakfast tomorrow, which she takes in the sunroom at eight o’clock sharp. The staff and Mrs. Lancaster use this elevator. She isn’t able to climb the stairs anymore, so she had this installed. The Mistress requested you stay close to Dora, so I put you in this room. The bed was a double with an off white down comforter and soft pillows. To the right stood an oak armoire with enough space for her business clothes and shoes. Next to that stood a matching six-drawer dresser with a mirror.
Taking her pink loungers, bathrobe and slippers from the upright Cassie asked, “Is Dora still awake?”
Mrs. Reed paused while turning down the bed, turning around, she said, “Not at this hour. It’s past midnight.”
Taking off her sneakers and placing them in the armoire Cassie asked, “And Mrs. Lancaster?”
“At a dinner party. She should be back shortly. Will there be anything else?”
“No, Thank you.”
“See you at eight then. “
“So, you’re the young lady my son, Robert, recommended to companion his daughter for the holidays,” said the Lancaster matriarch, smiling into her coffee mug.
Cassandra clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking, but her voice quivered, as she spoke, “I— had no idea about that. Your phone call was unexpected but welcome.” It surprised her that Elaine wasn’t wearing designer clothes and a lot of jewelry. She could’ve walked into any discount store and wouldn’t be recognized. She wore a white sweater lined in black with black slacks. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a wedding set that sparkled in the sunlight. Her gray curls framed her face in a short bob. Dora sat across the table from her and looked like a younger version of her grandma. Her copper colored hair was French braided down her back. Their clothing matched except that Dora’s sweater wasn’t lined in black and she wore black jeans instead of slacks and Nike sneakers.
Motioning her to sit, Cassie relaxed when she was encouraged to help herself to the platter of food in front of her. Elaine said, “Of course you know my granddaughter Dora.”
“The pictures in the paper do not do her justice.” Food went everywhere from the roar of laughter by all three.
“I tried telling mom not to invite anyone under 12. She wouldn’t listen.”
“What caused the cupcake fiasco?” asked Cassie, scooping up another forkful of scrambled eggs.
“Kami got jealous when she thought her twin sister, Camilla, got another cupcake. Everybody was only allowed one.”
“Both girls have been grounded till after the holiday for that incident. I thought after we finish all of us could take a ride around the property. The weather will warm up enough to take a bike ride around the garden. It looks better in the spring and summer with all the flowers in bloom. I don’t want Dora cooped up during her vacation.”
“Can we stop in the village?” Dora asked, eyes wide.
Scowling in Dora’s direction, her grandmother said, “Mrs. Reed told me what your room looked like this morning. I want it back in order before we leave. You have an hour.”
“Oh, Grandma,” Dora wailed.
“It’s either that or no fun activities for the next two weeks.”
“I’m going. What’s the sense of having maids around to do the cleaning anyway?”
“Nannies make their charges clean up their rooms. You are no different, dear.”
“Speaking of nannies, the only things missing from this outfit are: the cape, hat, jacket, white gloves, and umbrella that Mary Poppins wore in the movie. I’d better change.”
Putting down her teacup, Elaine said, “Not yet. I need to let you in on why you were hired for this position.”
“I have been wondering about that.”
“My son and his wife are getting a divorce. I allowed Dora to stay here; cutting some of the trauma that goes with it. Dora is aware of this, but that is all she knows at the moment.”
“Why can’t her mother take her?”
“Doreen signed a prenuptial agreement. Dora is not included. Anyway, she is a moron with money. The house in Maryland was hers before the wedding, an inheritance from her father upon his death. I don’t want my granddaughter raised a snob, so she won’t go to any boarding school in Switzerland.”
“And her father?”
Cassie rubbed her right arm, feeling the chill of Elaine’s far off stare. When she spoke, her voice sounded strange, “Robert would use the Switzerland option, being abroad so much. She wouldn’t see him even if he had time off. If he comes this Christmas, it’d be a blessing. He left me power of attorney. If Robert or I die, she’d go to school in Switzerland. There aren’t any other relatives. Doreen was an only child like my son.”
Cassie wiped her eyes, reaching across the table for Elaine’s hand, she said, “I’m sorry if I touched a nerve. I meant no harm.”
“No, you had every right to know.”
“I need to change and check on Dora.”
It was a good thing Cassie knew how to compartmentalize things otherwise there wouldn’t even be tour around the grounds or pizza, popcorn and a movie for dinner that night. In the morning, the invitations were sorted. Dora received a crash course in how to write her regrets for not attending the five rejected RSVP’s. There was still the Nutcracker at the village theatre, a Christmas party at the school she was to start in January, and a choir concert at the village church. Since it rained for three days, Cassie and Dora used the back stairs for exercise instead of the elevator.
Christmas was cold. The ground was covered with snow. Coming back from the bathroom, Cassie found a white slip of paper on the floor by her door. Grabbing her brown slacks and cream top from the wardrobe, she dressed quickly. It was cold and she was being summoned. Putting her damp hair in a festive bow and grabbing her heels, she stepped from the room headed for the stairs.
“Cassie, come meet my son, Robert. He’s been anxious to meet you, after hearing so much from Dora,” Elaine squealed.
Robert extended his hand after standing to his full six foot height. He had a copper head of wavy hair, like Dora, and a muscular build similar to Chris Sarandon in ‘Fright Night’ right down to the white cable knit sweater and tan pants he wore . He was shy, but warmed to people easily with a straight white smile, which sparked when he spoke. “I’ve heard so much about you from reading my daughter’s letters.”
“I had a note slipped under Dora’s door. She will be surprised to see her father.”
“My plane got in at nine last night, before the snow hit.”
Dad! You’re here!” Dora exclaimed, jumping into his arms.
“I missed you too sweetie,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“I forgot my gifts upstairs. Be right back, ” Dora ran back up the stairs. “What a great Christmas present.”
Everyone laughed.