Title: Pamela
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Blog Entry: April 2 CHAPTER 13 PAMELA FROM THE PREVIOUS PAGE “Oh, but Dusty,” Seth answered. “ I sure like you. You have more spunk than many people I’ve met. You’re going to have a very good life because you’re a fighter. All I am asking is for you to think about your mother. She doesn’t need to hear about how much you don’t like me. It hurts her. Save it for me. When we’re alone, you can yell at me as loud and long as you want. Who knows, maybe when you’re through, we’ll go out for a pizza. Then you can yell at me some more” **** With only minutes left before midnight, Pamela wasn’t surprised. Walking in the hallway with Dusty, she heard it when she stepped up to the front door. The television. Victoria was still up despite her regimen of retiring early. Time. Pamela needed time before she opened the door. On the other side was her mother’s inevitable “Seth” interrogation. She also needed to understand better Dusty’s mood before Victoria’s inquisition. Reaching into her Gucci crocodile shoulder bag, she fumbled for the house key that touched her fingers. “Hurry, Mother,” Dusty urged. Drooping eyes and toe tapping announced her mood. “I’m tired.” “I’m hurrying, sweetheart. I can’t seem to find the house key.” Continuing her charade, Pamela sensed Dusty was in a strange mood. Something or someone had unsettled her. What, she didn’t know, nor when it had happened. But something definitely had occurred. Gone was Dusty’s “I hate Seth and don’t want to be with him” attitude that had greeted Seth when he picked them up earlier in the evening. Riding in the elevator to their penthouse, Dusty had been quiet, reflective, as if something was confusing her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t what had happened when they returned home from dinner. Stepping out of the cab, Dusty stood mute as she watched Seth embrace her mother with a soft kiss on the cheek. Pamela had made a point of watching Dusty during the embrace. She hadn’t seen any rebellion in her eyes or turning away in protest. Rather than walking away, Dusty had watched Seth’s cab until it disappeared into traffic. Something happened between Seth and Dusty. It had to be when she was in the ladies lounge. There was no other explanation. “Mother.” “I found the key, sweetheart. Let’s get inside and get you to bed.” Despite her weariness, Victoria was the consummate actress when she turned off the television. “Well, you two, it’s nice to have you home. Tell me, how was the play?” Returning their coats to the closet, Pamela said, “It was amazing, beautiful music, and scenery. But then, Mother, having already seen the play, you knew that.” She watched Victoria hug Dusty when she dropped her purse onto the kitchen counter. “Mother, why don’t you ask the question you really want to ask? How did it go with Seth tonight? Was the evening a complete disaster?” “Really, Pamela. You don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.” Despite her weariness, Dusty watched them. “Go ahead, Mother. Ask it. Ask Dusty about her evening.” Dusty was surprised she had become the center of discussion. Gesturing with her hands, Victoria explained, “Well, it is an appropriate question to ask.. . okay, I will.” She put her hands on Dusty’s shoulders. “So tell me, sweetheart. How was your evening with Seth?” Victoria looked at Pamela for ratification that Dusty’s answer would confirm that Seth was a terrible mistake. Dusty offered no response. “Go ahead sweetheart,” Pamela urged. “Tell your grandmother how your evening was with Seth.” “I don’t want to talk about it,” Dusty said, a pensive expression on her face. She walked to her bedroom, closed the door. **** Oh God, I cannot believe this . Victoria’s teaspoon circled her teacup while she absent-mindedly stared at the early morning sky. The churning gray clouds promised a storm with heavy rain. She inhaled deeply to relieve her weariness, with no success. A glance at the 400 year-old Cornelius Herbert longcase clock added to her depression. The hour hand was still minutes away from six in the morning. She had remembered her bedside clock announcement of two in the morning. Had she lost the fight? Had Seth won over Dusty? Would he become part of the family? She shook her head to repel the repugnant thought. The man would stain the Sheffield name, leaving her years of promoting the image in shambles. Her social position as an icon of New York society would be lost, demoting her to an uncertain future. “No, I will not permit it.” Victoria startled herself with her loud announcement, fearful she had wakened Pamela and Dusty. A minute later, she was satisfied. The only sound was the longcase clock declaring that the six a.m. hour had arrived. Despite her weariness, she surprised herself with a smile. The honor of the Sheffield name was at stake and she had the beginnings of a plan to save it. TO BE CONTINUED
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