Second Child (29 page)

Melissa took a deep breath, then determinedly put her
fears aside. Teri was right—it was just an attic. There was nothing in it she needed to be afraid of.

Teri opened the door and stepped inside, and a second later Melissa followed her. She looked around and felt herself relaxing a little. Now, with sunlight coming through the small dormers, the attic didn’t look nearly as scary as it did at night, when the single bulb left most of it lost in seemingly endless shadows. Now only a few corners were still dark, and even they didn’t have that horrible, threatening blackness to them. She giggled self-consciously, looking around, but her laughter died abruptly on her lips as she spotted the dress on the mannequin. Yet now, in the muted daylight, the dress seemed only to be exactly what it was—a long-discarded garment, put on the mannequin for some planned alteration and then forgotten.

“Where shall we start?” she asked Teri.

Teri looked perplexed. “Do you know what’s in the trunks?”

“All kinds of stuff,” Melissa replied. “A lot of it’s stuff for winter, in case we come out here for Christmas. You know—quilts and blankets and things.” She started moving across the attic, stepping around some of the larger pieces of discarded furniture, pausing here and there to show Teri something. “Daddy keeps threatening to get rid of all this junk,” she said, staring at an old sofa whose rotted upholstery had finally given way, letting a spring pop through. “He says if we keep bringing more stuff up, the whole house is going to collapse. This one was my grandmother’s.” She pointed to a tattered wing chair. “Daddy says she put it up here when he was our age, and every time Grandfather wanted to get rid of it, she’d say she had plans for it.” She chuckled again, poking experimentally at the fabric, which crumbled under her touch. “Daddy says she had plans for it right up until she died, and after that Grandfather wouldn’t get rid of it because he was afraid of what Grandmother would say when he met her after
he
died.”

Teri shook her head. “But there’s so much of it,” she said. “I bet it’s worth a lot of money.”

Melissa shrugged, her eyes shifting over to the corner near the mannequin. “Let’s look over there,” she suggested. “I think there’s some old stuff in those trunks.”

They crossed to three large steamer trunks lined up in one of the dormers, and Melissa fumbled with the catch of the first one for a few seconds, then swung its door open. There was a scuffling noise, and a second later a mouse darted out, disappearing into a crack between two of the planks on the floor. Melissa jumped back, recovered from the shock of the sudden movement, then reached out and thumped the trunk. Finally she shook it a couple of times, and when nothing else scampered out of its depths, began pulling open its drawers.

Except for some old shoes—their leather so dried out it had begun to crack and peel—the trunk was empty.

The second trunk yielded another mouse, and a collection of linen tablecloths and napkins that were yellowed and riddled with holes.

The third trunk, though, turned out to be full, and when they opened it, both girls simply stared silently at its contents for a moment.

“It’s weird,” Teri finally breathed. “It looks like someone came back from a trip and never bothered to unpack it.”

Melissa gasped and her eyes widened. “Great-Aunt Dahlia,” she said. “I bet it was Great-Aunt Dahlia’s.”

Teri glanced at her half sister out of the corner of her eye. “Who was she?”

“Grandmother’s sister, I think. Daddy says she was really strange. And I bet this stuff is hers.” Melissa’s eyes left the trunk and met Teri’s. “She went on a cruise somewhere, and she just disappeared. Nobody ever found out what happened to her.”

Teri’s lips twisted into a crooked grin. “Come on,” she said. “Nobody just disappears.”

“Great-Aunt Dahlia did,” Melissa insisted. “Everybody thinks she probably jumped overboard. Anyway, I bet this is her stuff. I bet they sent it back, but nobody ever unpacked it.”

The two girls began to sort through the clothes. There were several dresses, all of them in the style of the 1930s, along with silk blouses, several jackets, a coat, and several pairs of lounging pants. In the small drawers that filled half the trunk, they found a collection of underwear, stockings, lingerie, and half a dozen pairs of shoes.

Melissa pulled one of the dresses out and held it up. Teri giggled. “No wonder she killed herself,” she said, gazing at the folds of material trailing on the floor at Melissa’s feet. “She must have been six feet tall.”

Melissa sighed with disappointment, knowing there was no way the dress would fit her. And then she saw Teri staring speculatively at something behind her.

Turning, she once more saw the old white dress, covered with ruffles and bows, hanging from the mannequin. A moment later she understood what Teri was thinking.

“That?” she breathed.

Teri nodded. “Why not?” she said, grinning. “You could go as D’Arcy.”

Melissa stared at her, trying to decide if she was kidding. “But I couldn’t,” she started to protest.

“Why not?” Teri asked. Moving around Melissa, she began carefully to unbutton the back of the dress, and a moment later pulled it off the mannequin. “It’ll be fun. And after what happened at the bonfire, you can prove to the rest of the kids that you’re not afraid of D’Arcy. And we won’t tell any—”

She suddenly fell silent as Melissa, eyes wide, stared at the bare floorboard, now exposed, that the skirt of the dress had covered only a moment before. Frowning, Teri let her own gaze follow her half sister’s.

On the floor near the base of the mannequin lay a worn leather strap. Fastened onto a metal ring near the buckle at one end was a small plastic tag. A single word was etched in white on its dark blue surface.

BLACKIE.

Trembling, Melissa reached down and picked up the dog’s collar, then her eyes went to Teri. “I was right,” she breathed. “I
did
see him up here.”

Teri stared at the collar silently for a moment, finally shifting her eyes to her terrified half sister. “But what did you do with him?” she asked.

Melissa felt a wave of dizziness come over her. “D-Do with him?” she repeated.

Teri nodded. “Don’t you see?” she asked. “If he really was up here and you really did see him, you must have done something to him.”

Melissa’s head slowly swung back and forth. “N-No,” she stammered. “I didn’t …”

Teri reached out and took the collar from Melissa’s hand. “I didn’t say you did it on purpose,” she said. Then, as if she’d just thought of it, she spoke again, seeming to formulate the idea while she talked. “Maybe—Maybe it wasn’t you at all,” she suggested. “Maybe it was D’Arcy.”

Melissa gasped. “D-D’Arcy?”

“But it has to be. You know how she comes to you at night, to help you when your mom straps you down?”

Melissa tried to swallow the lump of fear rising in her throat, and managed a slight nod.

“Well, maybe she came that night, too. Maybe she came and let you go to sleep, and then did something to Blackie. And when you woke up, you remembered parts of it and went upstairs to see.”

“But I saw—” Melissa protested.

“Maybe you didn’t see,” Teri suggested. “Maybe you just remembered what D’Arcy did.”

Melissa had begun to tremble, her mind spinning as she tried to cope with Teri’s words. Was it possible? Could D’Arcy have done something like that? She didn’t know.

“Wh-What am I going to do?” she breathed, her terrified eyes fixing on Teri. “If Mama finds out—”

Teri reached out and took Melissa’s hand. “She’s not going to,” she said. “If D’Arcy did it, it’s not your fault, is it? So we’ll just act like nothing happened. We’ll get rid of the collar and not tell anyone.”

Melissa blinked back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “You’ll do that for me?” she whispered. “You won’t tell Mama?”

Teri smiled. “Of course not,” she said. “Why would I want to do that?”

Taking the dress with her, she led Melissa out of the attic.

Charles glanced at his watch. It was almost seven, which meant they were going to be at least thirty minutes late for the predance buffet dinner at the Barnstables’. Not that it mattered, really. During the summer no one really cared if you were late for a buffet. He glanced in the mirror, adjusting the black cummerbund of the tuxedo that he’d
finally agreed to wear. “I’m not putting on a costume,” he’d told Phyllis when she tried to convince him to go as George Washington. “I’ll put on my tux and go as a waiter, but that’s the limit.”

Phyllis, knowing better than to push him, had mentally shifted gears, deciding on a flapper costume from the twenties. It wouldn’t be as elaborate as the gown she’d originally planned, but at least it wouldn’t look out of place next to Charles’s tuxedo. Now, hearing his impatient sigh and seeing him glancing at his watch yet again, she checked her makeup for the last time and stood up from her vanity. “Ready,” she announced. “And we won’t be more than forty minutes late, which is fine.” She smiled happily. “Shall we check on the girls?”

Together they walked down the hall to Melissa’s room, but just as they were about to go in, Teri stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her. “You can’t see Melissa,” she said. “We’re planning a surprise, and we don’t want anyone to see her before the party.”

Charles arched his brow. “Well, that’ll make it interesting,” he observed. “What are you going to do? Throw a blanket over her when Brett and Jeff arrive?”

“Well, of course,
they’ll
see her,” Teri retorted, then spun around so her father and stepmother could see her dress. “Well?”

“You look lovely, dear,” Phyllis told her, bending over to give Teri’s cheek a kiss. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Charles smiled proudly at his eldest daughter. “And I think the fairy godmother idea’s perfect,” he added. “You’ve certainly been one to Melissa. Without you … well,” he finished, feeling suddenly self-conscious, “let’s just say I suspect she wouldn’t be going to the party at all.” His eyes shifted nervously to the closed door. “How’s she doing?”

“She’ll be fine,” Teri told him. “Now go on to the Barnstables’ so we can finish getting her ready.”

Kissing her good-bye, Charles and Phyllis started down the stairs, but Charles abruptly turned back. “I’m leaving a camera on the table in the foyer,” he said. “Don’t forget to take pictures. This is Melissa’s first date, and—”

“I know,” Teri replied. “You already told me three times. I won’t forget.” Waving one last time, she turned and went back into Melissa’s room.

Melissa, clad only in her underwear and a slip, was looking doubtfully at the dress, which now lay across her bed. “What if it doesn’t fit?” she asked.

“We’ll make it fit,” Teri told her. “And look what I found at the thrift shop,” she said, opening a bag she’d refused to let Melissa peek into since she’d brought it home from the village late that afternoon. Reaching inside, she pulled out a long blond wig. “And I found all the right makeup, too,” she said. “Now let’s get the dress on you. The guys will be here in an hour.”

Melissa stood up, and Teri slid the dress over her head, holding the sleeves while Melissa worked her arms into them. Finally she pulled the dress down and began buttoning it up the back.

It was a little too large, but not nearly as bad as the dress Melissa had found in the old steamer trunk, and Teri started to drop to her knees, but changed her mind as the yards of pink material that formed her own dress began to crumple beneath her.

“Stand on the stool,” she told Melissa. “I can’t get down on the floor, and I have to pin the hem.”

Melissa gathered the skirt up and climbed onto the stool in front of her small vanity. “What if it comes loose?” she asked.

“It won’t. I got safety pins, and the skirt’s got so many ruffles they won’t even show. Just hold still.”

She began working, folding the hem up a few inches and securing it with a neat row of safety pins. After fifteen minutes she straightened up and stood back, eyeing her work carefully. “Turn around,” she told Melissa. She made a few adjustments, then told Melissa she could get off the stool.

The hemline, almost perfectly even, hung only an inch off the floor.

“Now let’s do the back.” Teri began folding the material over on itself, carefully pinning the temporary pleat as flat as she could. “Well, it’s good enough,” she said. “Now let’s see what you look like.”

Hesitantly, Melissa moved over to stare at herself in the mirror.

The dress was the right length, but the bodice was way too loose and the left sleeve kept falling off her shoulder. “Oh, God,” she sighed. “I look awful, don’t I?”

Teri snickered. “Well, it’s not great yet, but give me a chance. Let’s get some socks to put in your bra.”

Melissa stared at her. “We can’t—” she protested.

“Sure we can,” Teri replied. “Why can’t we? What’s the big deal? I mean, D’Arcy must have been at least eighteen, and you’re only thirteen.” She went to Melissa’s bureau and pulled out two pairs of white socks, handing them to Melissa. “Go on. Try it!”

Feeling foolish, Melissa stuffed the socks into her bra, then looked into the mirror again. To her surprise, her chest seemed to have filled out, and even when she looked closely, the ruffles along the bodice of the dress concealed the socks completely.

And there was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She
felt
different.

She grinned crookedly at Teri. “Did you ever do this?” she asked. “I mean, before you—-”

“Of course,” Teri replied. “I started doing it when I was twelve. All the boys thought I had the biggest ones in the world. Except they were only there once in a while. Boys are so dumb—they never figure anything out. Now come on. Let’s get the makeup on.”

Melissa sat at the vanity, staring at her image in the mirror. “Wh-What are you going to do?” she asked.

Teri smiled at her. “I’m going to make you pretty,” she said. “I’m going to make you just as pretty as D’Arcy must have been.”

She began working, applying a base of light makeup to Melissa’s skin, then adding color. First she worked on Melissa’s cheekbones, highlighting them carefully so they appeared to stand out slightly. Then she began shadowing Melissa’s eyes, finally using a pencil to line the lids and draw the corners out slightly, so they appeared to be set wider than they actually were.