Teachers Pet

47: An Extraordinary Person

        The distant ticking was the only sound I could hear throughout the house. A grandfather clock no doubt. Penny was standing by the entrance of the dining room with her hands folded in front of her. She kept her eyes to the floor as she smiled away blissfully. I wondered if she had any kids or if she was married perhaps. No ring, no tan line, no jewelry at all. Her hair was making my head hurt.

       "Stop staring," my mother whispered to me. I looked away from Penny with a sigh. My eyes roamed elsewhere to not embarrass my mother tonight as she had put it. Focusing on Penny was the only thing to keep me from feeling so little in this room. The dining room, or the west wing as Penny had called it, was bigger than my entire house. I sat at the foot of the table because my mother didn't want to sit next to Gloria. She'd be forced to sit next to me, across from my mother. Or maybe Gloria was a bold woman who would sit beside my mother. The thought was amusing but it made me sad for my mother if Gloria was indeed a bold woman.

       "Too many plates. Who needs this many plates...." My mother was staring down the table at all the plates and silverware set out for no one. The table could seat twenty guests. Beautiful orange roses with babies breath sat in a clear vase in the middle of the table. It was a big beautiful bouquet that I wanted to touch and smell. Above the bouquet was a chandelier meant for royalty. It had to be real crystal from the iridescent radiance it possessed. The more I looked around, the more I wondered how one person could live such an elegant wealthy life... and have such a disgusting son who turned out the way he had.

       "Ah. I know that look." I jumped in my seat. My eyes shot to where Penny was standing. Beside her was the woman who sat and watched as Marcus had been taken away in handcuffs. Gloria Hoover, a radiant and gorgeous woman who didn't look her age in this house. She had seemed older in the courtroom, weighed down by the fact that she was losing her son. Here, in this fortress, she looked near my mothers' age. Her hair was long and looked healthy. It reached her lower back in thick black waves that shined with even the tiniest of movements she made. Her neck didn't look wrinkled or sagged. Her cheeks didn't appear to swallow. Her hands didn't have age spots and her forehead wasn't filled with worry lines. Gloria Hoover was such a gorgeous woman.

       I swallowed hard as she slowly walked towards me, hips swaying a little more than they probably should. Her chest was a little perkier than natural breast should be. As she got closer, I noticed how her earrings pulled her ear lobes down a little lower than how earrings should naturally rest on someone's ears. That was the only sign of age I could see on her. That, and tiny crows feet. The wonders of money...

       Gloria had stopped right next to me, smiling slightly. She pulled the chair out next to me and sat down so gracefully. She moved with the lithe of a ballerina almost. "You're judging." I swallowed hard again as she called me out. I looked to my mother who was starring at Gloria with worry. "It's alright," Gloria cooed. As I turned back to Gloria, I felt my heart rate spike as she straightened her knife resting on its place setting. "I'm used to it."

       "I didn't mean to... I'm just not used to being somewhere so... um... " I couldn't even find the right words.

       "We've never been anywhere so... lovely... as your home. Court Bay Lane isn't something we're used to." My mother had saved me from my idiocy. I sunk in my chair a bit, wanting to be smaller than I felt and forgotten altogether tonight. Gloria observed every movement of mine, smiling softly as if not offended one bit by my actions.

       "I grew up on Ridge and Norman. If that helps." Ridge and Norman... Ridge and Norman was the neighborhood right before mine. It was the worst neighborhood to live in. It had the most crime and only people on welfare lived there. It was also a trailer park that was in debt.