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"I've had them all redone as a surprise for you," Tony said, cutting his eyes sharply toward me. He held out his arm for me to take.

I looked at Momma. She nodded and gestured with her eyes that I should take Tony's arm, 1 did so quickly.

"Can I come too?" Troy begged.

"You've got to get dressed yourself, young man. This is a full dress rehearsal," Tony said. "Except for the bride, of course," he added. "It's bad luck for the groom to see her in her wedding gown before the wedding."

"I wanna . ."

"Now Troy," Tony said and looked to Mrs. Hastings. "Come on, Troy. I'll help you get dressed."

"I don't need help," he said petulantly. Momma scowled down at him and shook her head.

"Right this way," Tony commanded and we ascended the stairway. Something about holding his arm made me nervous. My stomach butterflies were careering all over the place and I was sure I was blushing.

Tony led me down left on the second floor and stopped before a set of double doors.

"Here we are," he announced and threw open the double doors dramatically. "Leigh," he started. He reached his hand up and I thought he would touch my hair, but he quickly took his hand away. "I tried to make these rooms feminine, but not girlish. I hope you enjoy them," he added, his voice dropping into almost a whisper. His head was turned in a way that kept me from reading his eyes.

The sunlight through the pale ivory sheers was misted and frail and gave the sitting room an unreal quality. The walls were covered in some delicate ivory silk fabric, woven through subtly with faint Oriental designs of green, violet, and blue, and the two small sofas were covered with the same fabric, the accent pillows soft blue to match the Chinese rug on the

floor.

Despite my desire to dislike anything from this man I had to admit to myself that this was the most lovely room I had ever seen. I could easily picture myself in this room, cuddled down before that little fireplace.

"What do you think?" He leaned back against the wall and formed a temple with his hands under his chin. He looked as though he were studying me.

"It's a very pretty room. I never had my own sitting room," I added and then regretted saying that. It sounded as if I had been deprived.

"Well, now you do," Tony said, standing up quickly. A smile touched his full, sensuous lips. "Come, see your bedroom." He moved ahead of me and opened the bedroom doors.

What could I do? I didn't want to like it, to be impressed, to be thrilled and excited by my new home, but there before me was the loveliest, most darling, four-poster double bed with an arching canopy of heavy lace. The two rooms were done in my favorite colors: blue and ivory.

There was a blue chaise and three chairs that matched those in the sitting room. I wandered on into the dressing and bathroom area. There were mirrors and lights everywhere, it seemed. And there were crystal chandeliers and hidden lights that lit up all the walk-in closets, one closet almost as big as my entire Boston bedroom.

I sensed Tony right behind me and turned. He was standing so close, I felt his breath on my forehead and inhaled his after-shave lotion.

"I hope you can be happy here, Leigh. Its almost as important to me as making your mother happy," he said softly. He was silent as I stared up at him.

I wanted to scream back at him. I wanted to demand to know how he expected me to be happy. He had won my mother's heart away from my father and destroyed the only life, the only family, I had known. Daddy was off somewhere wandering the world, dazed and saddened by events that were taking place with lightning speed. Tony's good looks and sophisticated ways, his enormous wealth and family name, had stolen my mother away from my father, and now, he was raining down all sorts of luxuries on me, as though that were all it took to make him as important to me as my father, as though I could forgive all because of a beautiful room. I clenched and unclenched my hands at my sides to keep from striking him, for just then I may have hated him more than ever before!

Tony continued to gaze into my eyes. I think he read the rage that lingered just below the surface, for his face softened and he backed away.

"I know it's not easy for you right now, but I'm going to try to make things work between us. it will take a while, I know, but in time, I hope you will consider me more than just a stepfather. I want to be your friend too."

Before I could reply we heard a knock on the outside door. It was Mrs. Walker bringing in my dress, my- shoes and undergarments to be worn for the rehearsal. I heard Mamma's voice out in the hallway too, as she gave people orders on her way to her suite.

"Yes, yes," Tony said annoyed by the interruption. "Bring it all in." He turned back to me. "We'll talk more later. We'll have lots of time to talk and grow to know each other well. If you will let it happen." He turned and walked out.

"What a nice room!" Mrs. Walker exclaimed. She put my garments on the bed and spun around. "You're a very lucky girl to have such a place to live."

"Thank you, Mrs. Walker, but there is nothing wrong with the way we live in Boston," I said sharply. She saw the look on my face and left to assist Momma.

I stood there alone, staring at everything. This would be my new world, the place where I would think and have dreams and build my hopes, the place where I would cry and laugh, feel lonely and sad, and maybe, someday, feel happy again. I loved and hated it at the same time.

Daddy would never come through these doors to say good night or greet me after he came home from a long day's work at the shipping office. In a way I was glad he wouldn't ever see this suite. It would sadden him because he would think I had been won away from him by all this wealth.

I wouldn't let any of this make me forget Daddy, my heart cried. I would line the long dressing table with all my framed photographs: the one with me sitting on Daddy's knee, the one with Momma and me sitting and Daddy standing right behind us. When I was only five, I wrote "Daddy, Momma and me" at the bottom of it. I would surround myself with all my happy memories--pictures of our trips, pictures at the zoo, pictures aboard Daddy's ships, the one with Daddy trying to teach me to dance. Never, never would I let soft, expensive materials, rich and plush furniture, enormous rooms and luxuries, cause me to forget Daddy. And most of all, Tony Tatterton would see immediately that he had no chance, no chance in the world of replacing him.