"Wine at dinner," he replied drily. "Ami's dead to the world again, so as I expected, be your chauffeur once more."
"Thank you," I said, rose and dressed, and went down to breakfast, where he was sitting and reading his newspaper as usual.
It made me wonder about living a life as regimented and as organized as his, doing the same things day in and day out and seemingly enjoying it. Some people simply didn't appreciate spontaneity and were uncomfortable with changes, no matter how small, I thought. Wade was one of those people. He wore the same clothes, brushed and styled his hair the same way, arrived at his business at the same time, and read the same paper. Ami, who was so unpredictable, was surely like an extraterrestrial to him.
Mrs. McAlister appeared in the doorway and waited for my breakfast order. I wondered if I would ever get used to having people do so much for me-- cook for me, clean up, and clean up my room as well.
"I think I'd like some eggs this morning, please. Sunny side up."
"Sunny side up," she repeated. "Fried eggs or poached eggs?"
"Fried, I suppose."
"Humph," she said, as if that's what she expected, and backed into the kitchen.
Wade lowered his paper.
"Sorry about Dad last night. He came half tanked as it was, and then waiting for you guys, he drank a lot more. Not that he's much better sober," he added.
"It was all right. He didn't bother me that much," I said, feeling I had no right to complain about anyone in this house anyway.
"No, I don't think he did bother you. You're quite a kid, Celeste. Maybe living in orphanages hardened you more than Ami thinks. I don't suppose you can grow up too dainty there, or too soft-skinned. Whatever Ami thinks is just terrible or horrible, you probably brush off like an elephant brushes off a fly."
"Things might bother you just as much in the orphanage," I suggested, "but you can't complain, and you don't get much sympathy anyway, so you find ways to cover up or hold it inside you."
He nodded.
"What doesn't destroy me makes me stronger," he then said.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing. It's a statement a philosopher wrote, a statement I like."
I thought about it and smiled.
"I like it too," I said. "I'll have to remember that. Thank you," I said, and he smiled.
Funny, I thought, but that was something I hadn't seen him do much of in his own home, smile.
"Is Ami all right?" I asked, thinking about the whimpering I had heard.
"Ann? Sure. I don't know if she told you she would be up early every day to have breakfast with you or what, but it would surprise me if she ever does."
"I don't want to be a burden to anyone," I said.
"Why do you say that?" he asked, a softer smile on his face. "It's no problem for me to take you to school. Realty. I have to go past it to get to work, and I'm up this early all the time, even on weekends."
"Okay," I said, and drank some orange juice.
He reached over and poured the coffee into my cup.
"So, tell me now, now that my father's not bellowing over us, how was your first day at school? Did you meet some nice people?" He smiled. "On occasion, rich people can be nice, too."
"Yes, I did," I said.
"A boy, perhaps?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Yes," I said.