A piece of the story...Part 3
Instead, I focused my attention on a rack of modest business suits. Simple, with no frills, they’d get the job done without spending too much.
“I like this one.” I motioned for Tara, who was distracted by the section of shoes, to come over. “What do you think?”
“It looks very… sensible.” Her tone claimed that was a bad thing.
“Good, because that’s what I wanted.” I picked out a light gray one. “Are you ready to go?”
“That can’t be it. You need more than one suit of clothes.” Tara was flabbergasted.
“Why? I can only wear one at a time.”
“But-” she sighed. “If you don’t pick out at least two more, I’ll do it for you.”
I complied after that threat-like statement and found a navy blue skirt-blouse combo and a peach colored dress. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that they were beautiful, though. I reserved that for the party dresses. But they were suitable for what I needed them for. And that’s all that mattered. To me, anyway.
Tara squealed beside me when we left the shop. She had also picked out a pair of heels, some makeup, and undergarments for me. “That new dress would go perfectly with a scarf I have at home. We should find my driver and pick it up.”
I knew better than to not go along with her when an idea popped in her head, especially after today. Tha bags and boxes of my brand new wardrobe still in our hands, we walked four blocks before we found where the driver had parked and waited. We climbed into the back seat of the car and Tara told him to drive home.
Reader, this may shock you. Before that day, I had never been inside, or even outside, my best friend’s house. We had made a deal early into our friendship to never disclose where we lived. The difference in upbringing between us was obvious enough as it was, but we figured that if we didn’t know where the other lived it wouldn’t be as obvious. However, Tara must have forgotten that deal, and I didn’t bother to remind her. Honestly, I was excited to finally see where she lived.
The car wove it's way through a part of the city I had never stepped foot in. Large mansions and servants’ cottages that dated back at least one hundred years before replaced the modern row houses and apartment buildings that I was used to. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of one house in particular. In the classic colonial style, the mansion stood five stories tall with grand white pillars at the front. Stately windows lined each side of the house and the front doors and shutters were painted a bright red, in contrast to the dark gray of the stone walls. Simply put, it was breathtaking.
“Here we are: home, sweet, home.” Tara broke my daze and it took a moment before her words finally registered.
“This-” I pointed out the car window as we turned onto the driveway that made a half-circle before the house. “This is your home?” I don’t exactly remember that moment, but I have a feeling that my jaw went slack to my chest.
“Don’t look so shocked, Cassie. You knew I was rich.” She brushed off the word like it was a piece of dust stuck to her jacket collar.
“Yeah, but not THAT rich.” We parked directly in front of the large front doors. If I thought I was short before, those doors made me feel 4’ 2”. Inside, I was met by an even more spectacular sight. The high ceilings were painted with different scenes and an elegant, crystal chandelier lit the entryway.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll only be a moment.” Tara dashed up a carpeted flight of stairs that split to either side halfway up. The beginning of the second level could be seen through the railings of the indoor balcony that sat above where the stairs split.
Yeah right. There was no way under heaven that I would feel at home in a place like this. The only “homes” I had ever occupied were mere broom closets compared to this luxury. The large open space, probably four times the size of my entire apartment, made me feel as small as the mice that liked to scurry under my bed and bureau.
I decided to take Tara’s offer and wander through the closest doors on my right. Inside was an even larger open space with a single grand piano tucked in the corner. The colors on the marbled, tile floor matched the drapes that flanked the floor to ceiling windows. A long mahogany table stood adjacent to the piano. Little leaves and twisting ivy was carved into the corners of the dark wood.
However, my eyes were fixed on the rest of the room, which was left empty. The perfect ballroom.
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