Storms 01 - Family Storms

March looked satisfied. She leaned toward me as Mrs. Duval returned to the kitchen. “That means ‘very pretty’ in Spanish,” she whispered. “Do you know any Spanish?”
    “Not really,” I said. “I mean, I know some words.”
    “Alena spoke fluent Spanish, because Mrs. Duval had been her nanny since birth. I’m sure you’ll learn quite a bit just being around her. It’s the best way to learn a language, better than in a classroom. That’s what Donald says.”
    “I know some Chinese words because of my mother,” I told her.
    She didn’t look that excited about it. “That’s nice. Educating yourself as much as possible is important. I bet you are a good reader, too, right?”
    Mrs. Duval brought in our salads and set them down without looking at me or speaking.
    “I haven’t read that much for a while,” I said
    “Of course. I understand. But you’re going to see that Alena had a wonderful library in her sitting room. Unless you’ve already explored those shelves.”
    “No, I haven’t yet.”
    “Getting Kiera to read anything is like trying to feed her cod-liver oil. She has barely passing grades. Donald’s at his wit’s end with that, and it isn’t because we haven’t paid for tutors. She never liked any, but I’m sure you’re going to like Mrs. Kepler. Doesn’t this salad look good? You like figs in your salad? We all like that. Alena loved it.”
    “I never had it before,” I said, but I nodded. It did taste good.
    That pleased her, and she became even more talkative, telling me about her own youth, her high school years, and her years at a private college she called “more of a charm school than a real educational institution. But I wasn’t meant to have any sort of career,” she added. “I was born to be who I am.” She laughed. “That’s what Donald says.”
    Everything was what Donald said, I thought. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was really like and what he would think of me.
    “Is he coming home tomorrow?” I asked.
    “No. He’ll be away the rest of the week, but that’s allright. We’ll have plenty of company, with your tutor coming tomorrow, your doctor checkup, lots to do. No worries,” she said. I was waiting for her to add, “as Donald would say,” but she didn’t.
    The Irish stew was delicious. I had eaten so much for lunch that I couldn’t eat as much of it as I would have liked, especially with Mrs. March continually warning me to leave room for our special dessert. After the dishes were cleared off the table, I sat in anticipation. Moments later, Mrs. Duval returned, carrying a tray with something on fire. Mrs. Caro was right behind her, smiling. It remained in a flame until Mrs. Duval lowered it to the table.
    “It looks beautiful,” Mrs. March said.
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “Banana flambé,” she said.
    Mrs. Duval served us each a dish, and Mrs. Caro added scoops of vanilla ice cream. I couldn’t remember anything so delicious.
    “Wait until Kiera finds out we had this. She’ll be sorry she wasn’t here,” Mrs. March said, and then clapped her mouth shut and lowered her eyes.
    “It’s wonderful,” I said. It brightened her face.
    “I’m so glad you enjoyed your first dinner here, dear. I hope there will be many, many more, and all happy and delicious.”
    After dinner, she gave me a more detailed tour of the rooms we had passed on our way to dinner. There was so much to see. I simply couldn’t take it all in, and I was very tired by then. This did seem to be one of those days that Mama called longer than twenty-four hours. Mrs. Marchrealized I was getting very tired and brought me quickly to the elevator. In fact, she fell into a kind of frenzy as she rushed to get me up and into bed.
    “I know I shouldn’t get you this tired,” she said as we went up in the elevator. “I just forget. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right. I’m fine,” I told her, but she had the look on her face that people have when they realize they’ve done something terrible.
    She hurried me down the corridor to my bedroom. “I’ll help you get ready for bed,” she said. “I know you’re exhausted.”
    “It’s all right,” I insisted, but she was at me, getting me out of the sailor outfit. Then, after I had on the nightgown she had laid out earlier, she pushed me to the bathroom.
    “There’s a brand-new electric toothbrush here for you, and different kinds of toothpaste. Alena hated the peppermint-flavored ones. She said they