Black and Blue Ivy

Bentley

I had offered to help clean up but was brushed away by Mrs. Roche. Mr. Robinson, who barely said a word during the meal, retreated to his den before the dessert plates were cleared. The younger children clung to me after dinner as the family was sanctioned to different parts of the sprawling home.

"Come and watch Cinderella with us, Ivy," Aileen pleaded.

"I'd love to, but–"

Bentley sidled up beside us and tousled Aileen's hair. "Can't you see the girl's falling asleep on her feet, you silly rugrat?"

"Hey, cut that out, you meanie." Aileen pounded her tiny fist into Bentley's stomach. Bentley mocked a mortal injury by grasping his gut with both hands and groaning.

I giggled despite myself.

"Bentley's right," cooed Gardenia as she floated down the stairs in a cloud of sweet perfume. She had put the toddlers to bed and now joined the rest of us in the foyer. "Ivy, you do look tired. The children and I are going to watch a movie in the family room, but you may go straight to bed if you'd like."

"Thank you," I said, "but I'm pretty beat."

I didn't lie. After the heavy meal, I could barely keep my eyes open.

"But that's not fair." Aileen sulked by my side. I crouched down till I was eye level with her and promised I would play with her tomorrow.

"Me too?" chimed in Lilly, skipping toward me.

"You too," I said.

"Bentley," said Gardenia in a weary voice. Despite her polished appearance, appeared as exhausted as I felt. "Will you please show Ivy to her room?"

"But I know where it is," I said.

Gardenia's tinkled laughter reached the crystal chandelier hanging high above our heads. "Providence House is a virtual maze, especially when it's dark."

"I'll take you, Ivy," said Phillip, stepping up like a little prince.

"I'll take her." Bentley's grip tightened around my upper arm. "Let's go, Ivy."

While the children ran ahead to the family room, Gardenia paused to gaze at Bentley. I read sadness and resignation in her blue eyes. If he wasn't her natural son, then who was he?

"Goodnight, then," she said, floating away to leave Bentley and I standing alone. His grip on my arm softened as he released a sigh.

"Shall we go?" he said.

Gardenia wasn't wrong about the layout of the house being confusing. I have no doubt I would have gotten lost without Bentley's help. We climbed the grand staircase and then traversed one dark winding corridor after another until we finally came upon the familiar back staircase. Bentley kept up a friendly but reserved banter.

"How did you wind up at Providence House?" he asked.

I told him about the epidemic that shut down St. Vincent's.

"And before that?" he probed, casting me a sidelong glance.

"I was homeless," I said, deciding it was better not to lie. I was long past feeling the need to impress anyone.

"Homeless?" he scoffed as we climbed to the third floor. "What about your family?"

I sighed. "My mother's in jail."

I braced myself for a sarcastic retort, but instead, he paused at the end of the upstairs main hall, gazed intently into my eyes, and said, "I'm very sorry." I was relieved he didn't ask what for.