The Descendant

The next couple of weeks went by pretty smoothly. It took eight days for the chair and footstool to be returned, and they looked wonderful. A lot better than what I would have done, because the cushions and padding had also been replaced and refreshed. It was so nice. I loved sitting in the chair, looking out over the trees and the back garden or reading. I made one final adjustment; in my bed nook I got some glow in the dark paint and an astronomy book and put the constellations on the ceiling so I could see stars even if I wasn't on the roof. It wasn't to scale, of course, and I made sure the zodiac signs were included. The Amazons made a big deal about astronomy, predicting great things for me because I was a Taurus born on the Aries cusp, supposedly a sign of great power, but it hadn't materialized. Another good thing about the nook is that I didn't have my alarm to hand; I had to actually get up to turn it off. Mom and Dad had made me use one rather than the house alerts because I ask for the snooze reset too much and I get a late start. I had to pull myself out of the coziness of my nook to turn it off and then I was up.

Finals seemed to go fairly quickly and easily; one thing I like about finals is that the computer scores everything as soon as you submit, so maybe a minute and you've got your results on objective tests. The essay questions take longer, about ten minutes. But sociology used multiple choice for all the answers, same with geometry, you just had to solve the problem to select the right answer. I went home feeling good about two As. We had Grandpa Mark and Aunt Amy over for dinner that night and they praised my grades when Mom said I'd had my finals.

"Are you going to work full time now until school or keep it part time?" Aunt Amy asked.

"I'm going to keep it part time, I'd like to have some fun for summer, but they're going to schedule me differently, three full days and one half shift so that I actually have some whole days to myself. And Mr Cal shuts the studio for most of August so that everybody gets a break and he can take a vacation. I can sleep in." I gloated about this.

"So Dan tells me you're going to go to Hell's Kitchen High next year," Grandpa said, and I nodded.

"It sounds like a good school, I don't know anybody there, it's bigger than the other two, and I think I can blend in better." I'd also done some research on the school. Plus this way my cousins wouldn't feel obligated to hang out with me. I don't want to be anybody's charity case. And the ones in the other schools weren't ones I was particularly fond of. I didn't not like them, we just weren't close. There are so many of us, we can't all be buddies. "And I can wear regular clothes." That also cheered me up. Deprived of individuality in clothing choices, at my old school girls showed their wealth and taste with accessories including jewelry that I couldn't compete with.

"I understand you've decorated your room really nicely," Aunt Amy said. "Rose said it was beautiful. Will you show it to me after dinner?"

"Sure," I said. "Be happy to." And after that, conversation turned to the Osborn kid, who had eventually been recovered. Ms Osborn had paid the ransom, of course, but her son hadn't been returned and she'd been stuck up for more money. This had happened twice, and finally she quit screwing around and hired a team of operatives to find her son and rescue him; there had been threats to kill the boy if she brought in the authorities, and she'd received a body part after the third time, apparently to try to keep her in line. It would have been painful and traumatic for the kid, but with modern medicine, pretty much any body part could be regrown so at least he wouldn't be permanently disfigured. There'd been a firefight and one of the kidnappers killed, but the other two that the kid had seen got away. And he'd never seen whoever masterminded the operation.

After dinner, Grandpa came up with Aunt Amy and me to look around. "This is fantastically cozy," he said. "This winter you can snuggle up in the window seat and watch the snow fly. And that bed nook is so pretty with the screens on either side and the top."

"I used solid plywood across the bottom because I don't want to see the bed or the mattress," I explained. "Grandpa Henry had some great suggestions and he really helped with the construction. It wouldn't be half as nice if I hadn't had his guidance. The screens let in light and airflow, so it's more an illusion of privacy than anything else." I considered for a minute. "I might get some fabric when it starts to get chillier to line the screens. Contrast but holds in a little warmth. I hate to be cold when I'm sleeping."

"I'm kind of surprised that you don't have posters or anything up," Aunt Amy observed.

"The view outside is what I like to watch. There are squirrels and birds, sometimes deer, skunks, other animals, and of course bats at night. Some of the posters I used to have weren't very cool so I took them down and didn't replace them. But I would like to get a few things for my vanity." My friends had laughed about the celebrity boys in the posters, and I'd been embarrassed that I didn't have better taste.

"I know that in a trunk upstairs are a bunch of things from vanities of the past," Aunt Amy said thoughtfully. "Mirrored trays, perfume atomizers, that kind of thing. Pretty things to play with and use."

"Do you know where?" I asked hopefully.

"I think I do," Grandpa said, his eyes narrowing as he thought. "I found it once when we were exploring but it didn't really have anything for boys." So we went upstairs and after a couple of trunks, found the right ones. There were a lot of accessories; I had my choice. I picked a tray that was very simple, just a small rectangular mirror with silver handles that Grandpa said were Art Deco, a standing mirror that would make doing my makeup easier, a gorgeous blown-glass atomizer for my perfume, a table lamp with a glass shade with tiny faceted crystals on the bottom for lighting for doing my makeup, and a set of a silverplate hairbrush, comb, and hand mirror with a stylized iris design on them. I also chose a small porcelain dish with pansies painted on it to hold little things. In another trunk there were bookends; I took some black painted ones that had fun cutout images for my bookshelves. And I showed them how I'd converted the closet into a sewing room.

"Wow, Lys," Aunt Amy said, looking around. Alan had helped me put up some shelves with pretty carved corbels and he was fixing the hinges on a cabinet. I explained my plans, and both of them smiled.

"You're a clever girl," Grandpa praised me. "Those pillows downstairs look great. With more practice, you could be a professional." I flushed a bit at the praise.

We went back downstairs for tea and sweets, and Mom asked Aunt Amy if she'd like to come with us when we went shopping for school clothes. I blinked. I hadn't really thought about school clothes, which was stupid because I wouldn't have a uniform. Aunt Amy said she'd love to, and we all agreed on the upcoming Friday afternoon.

The next day we went to pick up Deri and Van. They'd had a lot of fun, earned a few badges, learned a lot, made new friends. They chattered steadily all the way home, and Deri kept it up all the way into the house. I helped carry in her stuff, then retreated once I'd dumped my share in her room. Wow. I forgot how sometimes she just rattles on. I'd gotten accustomed to quiet. I was glad she'd had such a good time, though. Dinner was more of the same, and I listened to the seemingly endless stream of activities and achievements, asking questions when I could get a word in.

I went upstairs after tea and settled into the window seat with my reader. It was nice to have the tranquility after the verbal assault that was my little sister. I'd barely gotten a chapter read when she came barrelling in. "Knock first," I requested firmly. "You're not at camp anymore."

"Geeze, Lys, this is great,' she said, looking around. "When did this get done? My room could use a face lift too." She started to poke around.

"Thanks, I did it a few weeks ago. And stay out of my stuff," I said, frowning a little as she opened the drawers in the vanity and desk.

"Why? You don't have anything good hidden away," she said.

"How would you like me barging into your room and riffling through all your stuff?" I said. She frowned at me.

"Lighten up, Lys, you're really no fun at all." She petted the draperies.

"It's called privacy, Deri, and I expect you to respect it."

"You sound like Queen Hippolyta," she said. "Stick up your butt a mile wide."

"I can't believe I missed you," I said through gritted teeth. "If you're going to insult me, get out."

"Fine," she shot back and flounced out.

Somehow my peace and quiet felt spoiled after that.

The next day was a full eight-hour day at work, and although I didn't see the need for it, I obediently brought my lunch rather than going out. It was my first encounter with the TV show that was using our store as the source for the fabric, and I tried to stay away from the cameras that followed some of the contestants around. Putting things away, I found one kind of twitchy guy looking at the fabric that had caused our other customer to complain. It had been tested and it really was just cotton; nobody could explain why it was so hard to sew. "We've had some customer comments that it's really hard to sew," I mentioned as I passed by.

"Really?" he asked. "But it's cotton, and it seems to resist wrinkling to an extent. It's just what I need."

"I don't want to tell you your business," I said, smiling. "I just thought you should be aware of a potential problem."

"It's the right color and weight," he said, testing its hand. Then an airhorn sounded, causing both of us to flinch. The guy looked rattled. "That's the warning on time," he said. "I have to get down to the cutting table before time's up or I won't have anything to sew." He grabbed the bolt of fabric and trotted toward the stairs. After they'd all gone, we had a lot to pick up; trims were out of order, notions rifled through, bolts of cloth to put back. They were apparently kept short on time because... it made better watching if they were stressed out and making mistakes? Nobody really knew, we just worked to fix it all up.

When I got home, I went upstairs for a bit before dinner. I'd found a nice insulating lining fabric in home dec that had a satin weave on the facing side and was contemplating using it behind the screens around my bed for winter, but maybe it would be more fun to make curtains, install a curtain rod? I liked the idea of a completely enclosed bedspace, cozy and private, although I didn't need it, really, it wasn't like I was going to be entertaining any guys there. Maybe a colorful fabric that faced out, then, with the lining facing the interior of the cubby? I could make some throw pillows for my inner sanctum too. I started to get more enthusiastic about the ideas. I measured the width of the cubby and notated the dimensions of the opening so that I could figure out the yardage. There was a knock on the door. "Come in," I hollered as I put the measuring tape in the desk drawer. Deri came in.

"Your room is so nice," she said. "Would you help me with mine?" There was a chime, and it was time to go down for pre-dinner.

"Sure," I said as we walked down the stairs. "Come up with some ideas. I can use my discount at work to help with the fabric, so you can work that into your budget too."

"Budget?" she asked as entered the library.

"Yeah, you need to allocate money to each part of the project, because if you don't you'll be spending a lot more than you wanted to," I explained.

"I'll be spending?" she asked blankly.

"Well, yeah. I used my paychecks and allowance. And Dad bought the paint, and Mom had the chair and footstool covered for me, big savings. Grandpa Henry used offcuts from other projects, so he gave me a reduced price for that. And there's a lot of stuff up in the attic, so that frees up a lot of cash," I said encouragingly. "I'll send you some links that explain budgeting."

"That's very nice of you, Lys," Mom said approvingly. Then Dad came in, with thin silver bangle bracelets for Deri and me.

"They've got trackers in them," Dad explained, and I nodded. The clasps were really sturdy so they wouldn't come off easily. I wondered if Aunt Emma had made them. Then they had to explain what happened to the Osborn kid to Deri. Then Deri remembered that she'd made presents, and raced upstairs, returning with bracelets made from leather thongs with glass beads on them for Mom and Dad--Dad's was wider, with bigger beads--and a little pottery dish glazed bright pink for me. It wasn't excessively symmetrical and the color was really bright, but it was pretty and I was glad to have been remembered.

"Thanks, Deri," I said as I examined it. "This is really cute." She explained how they made it and how it was fired as we went in to dinner.

"I can't believe you didn't post pictures of your room on social media," Deri told me when we sat down in the dining room. "You're on Buzz, Wire, and Connect, right?'

I took a sip of water. "I deactivated the accounts."

"What? Why?" she asked, aghast.

"What people were saying about me and to me... I just didn't want to see it anymore." I drank more water, grateful when Alan came in with the salad.

"Why didn't you say anything, Lys?" Dad asked, frowning. "It's illegal to bully people online, and those sites are supposed to have filters."

"I guess they don't work," I said, taking some salad and passing the bowl. I bit the tip of my tongue to keep my eyes from watering; I didn't like to think about what had been said even with some distance.

And wasn't that just a conversation buster. "Uh, so, Marissa invited me to hang out with her on Friday and she's having a sleepover that night. Can I go?" Deri asked.

"Vanessa has also been invited," Alan said as he brought in bread rolls. "Miss Deri can come into the city with us; Vanessa going to spend some time in the Valkyrie building with Aslyn, they're going to lunch, then over to Miss Marissa's home."

So that was agreed, to my relief as I'd been a little worried that Deri would want to horn in on my shopping time with Mom and Aunt Amy.