Calista's Court

Part Two

                                                                                    Chapter 6

            On my thirteen birthday, I got placed with Elka and Edwin Gordon. I had no idea when the social worker dropped a worthless young me off at the screen door, of their yellow ranch house, that home had finally arrived.

            “Time to wake up, dear,” a sweet, elderly voice whispered from across the room. “Good gracious, Sophia, your ivy is attacking me again.”

            Sitting upright in my bed, I saw Elka Gordon, my foster mother, brushing a fallen ivy vine away from her face. Giggling, I hopped to the floor.

            “Sorry, Mrs. G. I thought it would be pretty to let the ivy grow around the door. She seems to have a mind of her own though.”

            Scooting my vanity chair over to the loose vine, I re-hooked it to its proper place above the frame.

            With her hands on her hips, Elka watched me and said, “It must be my imagination, but that ivy looks as if it’s grown a foot overnight. Did it?”

            “I’ve been busy.” I shrugged. “Haven’t paid much attention. Ivy’s are supposed to grow fast, aren’t they?”

            “Not for me, apparently.” 

           She scanned the rest of the room. Two mint-green ferns hung on either side of the vanity, and a family of bamboo plants sat in the corner.

            An old-fashioned desk rested in front of a window in the middle of the next wall. The window on the side of the house gave a full view of the barn. Sometimes, I allowed myself to get distracted from homework by Kris, the hotty, part-time farmhand. Cowboys did not necessarily draw me, but he sure could wear a pair of Wranglers.

            Lofty windows framed either side of the headboard of my queen-sized bed. I had never had a bed so large before, and perhaps, if the space had not been a guestroom before my arrival, I would not have been so fortunate.

            A small, glass lamp with jeweled tassels sat on a bedside table. Besides that, I had another row of plants, and a nine-drawer dresser with an attached mirror. The new guitar I got for Christmas a week before sat in its black case next to my bed.

            Elka’s eyes rested on the bedside table, and she squealed with delight, “You brought my African violet back to life!”

            “You can take her back now, but Miss Mauve does not wish to return to the kitchen window.” Leaping to the table, I picked up the delicately petal plant and handed it to her.

            “Oh?” Elka grinned and waited for my response.

            “She would prefer to be in the living room window behind the sheer curtain.”

            “That is good to know,” Elka answered and turned her attention to the plant. “Have I been mistreating you, Miss Mauve? Now that your wishes are known, I will certainly oblige. Breakfast is almost ready,” she called back as she was leaving, but did not wait for a response.

            Taking a seat at the dressing table, I roughly braided my long blonde hair. Mrs. Gordon made a point of having Mr. Gordon bring the dressing table out of the attic four years ago when I came to live with them. She said, every lady needs a place to tend to her beauty needs. They had plans of sanding and re-painting the vanity, but to date, it had not been done. I did not mind either. The handsome frame and ornate carved features were that much more beautiful with all of the wear from time.