Page 18 of Halstead House

Ana and Josie joined us before we were finished and lent a hand to the process by placing pressed napkins at each place. Ana kept making funny faces at me whenever Eliza would turn away until I finally gave in and giggled.

Eliza smiled up at me as I walked past. “It’s good to hear you laugh, my dear.”

“Grace has been laughing more and more these days,” Ana said.

“It’s mostly because Ana’s only goal in life is to get a reaction out of me,” I replied with a chuckle.

“You need me,” Ana stated so matter-of-factly that I shook my head.

I turned to Eliza. “Ana believes herself to be the Great Island Therapist.”

“Well, whatever she’s doing, it seems to be working.” Eliza smiled warmly back. “There’s a reason I have her running my home.”

“Next step will be getting Grace to let her hair down. I mean that literally. Do you ever do anything other than that bun?” Ana teased as she moved to the next table.

“This is not a bun, Ana. I’ll have you know it’s a chignon. And it’s very fashionable and professional,” I replied in a mock stern voice.

“Says your ninety-two-year-old grandma,” Ana snorted. “You’re not old, so why do your hair like you are?”

“I do not do my hair like an old lady,” I burst out, the light-hearted feeling popping.

“How many bobby pins do you own?” Ana darted me a look.

“I refuse to answer that,” I replied, fighting to stay away from the humiliation that wanted in. I knew Ana well enough now to feel easier around her, but I hated any reminder of my differences. For some people differences were a strength, but for me it had never felt that way. It wouldn’t be easy to let those old hurts go.

“I’m just saying, your hair is such a pretty color. You should be like a peacock, fanning it out everywhere. Not tucking it behind you like you’re trying to hide it,” Ana pressed.

“Good grief, Ana, I am not trying to be a peacock!” I stopped what I was doing and looked at her with big eyes. “Besides, peacocks are colorful. I am colorless. Big difference.”

“Colorless? Please. Women spend a lot of money trying to get their hair that color.”

“She’s right, dear.” Eliza surprised me by entering the conversation. “It’s quite lovely.”

“Doyouthink I do my hair like an old lady?” I asked Eliza as I walked past her carrying more place settings.

“I think you do your hair in a way that makes you feel comfortable,” Eliza replied simply.

I had nothing to say in reply to that shocking burst of insight. I’d done my hair in some type of chignon for years. But why? Did I really like the style? I wasn’t even sure what I liked. On a scale of one to ten, my self-knowledge was squeaking in at a zero point five. How did a person get to their twenty-fifth birthday without knowing how they liked their hair styled? The wolf inside me moaned and flopped to the ground.

“Well, it doesn’t matter today,” I said after a short pause. “Peacocks take time, which is something we don’t have.”

Ana grinned. “You might be right, for now, but don’t think you’ll get away from me that easily.”

The moment we finished setting up, I checked in on Chef Lou and then raced to my room to clean up and prepare for my first event. While Eliza would handle the official hostess duties, I was expected to stand by to take care of anything that needed to happen outside of the ballroom. Escorting guests to the restroom, alerting Chef Lou when the next course should be served, telling Ana of any spills—those were all tasks I would be in charge of, among other things. I felt confident as I slipped into my freshly dry-cleaned dove gray power suit and put the finishing touches on my makeup.

Yes, my hair had been pulled into my signature style. And yes, I was questioning it as I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. Darn Ana for putting doubts in my mind. Did this severe style make me look old and unapproachable? Would softening up my look help in some way I was unaware of? I’d always blamed my lack of friends on my reserve, but perhaps my style was compounding the problem. Aargh! I did not have time for this right now.

I slipped into black pumps, spritzed on a lightly scented spray, and left my room. It was quarter to one, and guests would be starting to arrive, as it was common knowledge that Eliza served promptly on the hour.

The service stairs were quiet as I hustled down. The heartbeat in my throat seemed louder to me than my footsteps.“There’s only once chance for a first impression,”Mother’s voice reminded as I passed by the kitchen. The loud clanking of dishes let me know the staff was hard at work. Ana’s office and housekeeping room were empty, which meant Ana had changed into her uniform. Everyone was ready to go.

I silenced Mother’s voice and squared my shoulders as I rounded the corner into the dining room and passed quietly through into the conservatory, which was attached to the ballroom by a set of large French doors. Ana was hovering behind the partially parted doors, exactly where I expected her to be. Her lovely brown hair was plaited in one thick braid down to her waist. She’d changed into a tailored gray button-down shirt and black slacks, which designated her as staff to anyone who bothered to look at her. I knew from experience that most of them wouldn’t. People tended to let staff stay part of the background.

“Nice bun,” Ana said out of the side of her mouth as I came to stand next to her.

“Careful, someone might think you’re being improper,” I replied quietly with a straight face as she peeked through the open door.

Ana’s eyes lit up, a look of delighted surprise on her face as she turned to face me fully. How sad that my cracking a joke would be worth a double take.

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