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Erin dialed Gabe's private number and waited as the telephone rang once, twice, three times before he answered. The moment she identified herself, he demanded, "How did you get my private number?"
Erin kept her voice calm. Inside she was seething. "Jenny is here."
She heard his gasp before he asked, "Is this your idea of a joke?"
"It's no joke. She's been here since around ten last evening. I would have called you sooner but Jenny refused to give me your number and it's unlisted."
Gabe asked, in a much more conciliatory tone, "Is she all right?"
"She's fine. She's asleep. When she finally agreed to give me your number it was with the stipulation that I wouldn't call you until tomorrow. Technically, I've kept my word. You can pick her up in the morning."
"I'm coming for her now. Where are you?"
Erin could have argued. She doubted that it would have done any good. "I bought the old Trent house on Hackberry Avenue. Do you know where it is?" That was a stupid question. Everybody in Summerville knew where the Trent House was. Built around the turn of the century, it had once been the epitome of Victorian opulence and splendor. For the last twenty-five years it was an eyesore that city fathers alternately promised to restore or threatened to demolish, depending on which way the political winds blew at the time. Last year when Erin learned it was for sale, she bought the old house and set about to have it repaired and restored to its former grandeur.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes." Gabe hung up the phone.
Erin replaced the telephone receiver and turned her attention to the young girl curled up in a fetal position and fast asleep on the high four-poster bed across the room. Strange and conflicting emotions stirred inside her. What a beautiful young lady Jenny had grown to be. How much she resembled Gabe with that dark fall of hair and her tall, slim figure. Yet some of her physical attributes were so like Erin's, the short upper lip, the slender patrician nose, the supple hands with the long, slender fingers. Looking into Jenny's eyes was almost like looking into a mirror. Despite her many resemblances to both parents, Erin knew from the long conversation she'd had tonight with this determined child, she had many qualities and characteristics that were uniquely Jenny.
The moment she opened the front door last night and saw Jenny standing on the other side, Erin knew who she was. A swell of joy swept through her. She closed her eyes, and held onto that surge of happiness. It mattered not why Jenny was here, or what the consequences of such an unexpected visit might be, this snatched second of joy was hers. A gust of wind and rain blowing in from the outside made her open her eyes and step onto the front porch. The wind complained through the majestic oaks that lined the driveway. Huge drops of rain pelted the ground like ten penny nails.
A childish high-pitched voice pierced Erin's shell of pleasure. "Mrs. Bennett?"
"I'm Mrs. Bennett." Erin pulled the front door shut, hung onto the doorknob and asked, as casually as she dared, "Can I help you?"
Jenny looked as though she might, at any minute, turn and run in the opposite direction. "Do you know who I am?" Summer rain glistened in her wind-blown hair. She wore cut-off jeans and a skimpy pullover tee shirt. She was soaked to the skin.
Erin nodded. "Yes I do."
Jenny asked breathlessly, "Can I talk to you?"
Jenny had come seeking her. Swift reasoning told her this had to be without Gabe's knowledge. Perhaps Jenny was more Erin's daughter than she had dared to hope, defying her father this way. Erin knew better than anyone the price of challenging Gabriel Harrow. "I'd like that very much. You must be freezing." Standing back, she held the door open. "Come inside."
After a furtive glance over her shoulder, Jenny came slowly into the foyer. "I really need to talk to you."
Erin nodded. "I know. I'm glad you're here." She pointed to a low stool in the corner. "Sit down. I'll find some dry clothes." She dashed away to find something warm for the child to wear. She came back a few minutes later with a fluffy towel and a light flannel robe.
Jenny shed her shorts and tee shirt and put the robe on over her panties and training bra. "Is this your robe?" she asked as she wrapped it around her and tied the belt on one side.
Erin's nerves were like high tension wires. "Yes. It is." She nodded toward the door to her left. "Come into the parlor and sit down."
As she dropped into the chair, Jenny's glance scanned the room, taking in the elegant Victorian furniture, the floral paper that decorated the walls and the oval carpet that covered the center of the polished oak floor. "This is as nice as Kim told me it was."
Erin had no idea who Kim was or how she came to know about her house. "Thank you. I think so too." She perched on the edge of a velvet covered straight backed chair and waited, with her heart beating double time, for Jenny to speak again.
"Kim told me all about every floor, even the basement."
It was time Erin learned who this Kim person was. "I don't believe I know Kim."
"Kim is my best friend." Jenny caught one of her hands in the other before laying them both in her lap. "Her daddy owns the construction company that restored your house."
"I see," Erin said, although she didn't 'see' anything.
Jenny nodded. "When her daddy's crew was done with the house, she asked him to bring her here to see it. That was so she could tell me all about how it looked." She twisted her hands together. "I hope you aren't mad."
"I'm not mad." Erin assured her. Obviously Jenny was nervous too. Erin spoke gently, "I don't think you came here to talk about Kim and my house."
"I didn't." Jenny wrapped one long skinny leg around the other and cleared her throat. "Mrs. Bennett, I came here because when I saw you on Marc Renfro's television program tonight, I knew I had to see you."
When Jenny was a toddler, before fate and lies separated them, Erin was Mommy. To hear herself addressed now as Mrs. Bennett chilled her warm glow of happiness. "Do you think you could call me Erin? Mrs. Bennett sounds so formal."
"Daddy doesn't like me to call adults by their given names."
What a puzzle this child was. She could defy her father to come here, but she was reluctant to break one of his silly social rules. "In this case I think he would make an exception."
Jenny's face relaxed into a tentative half-smile. "We don't have to tell him."
As frightened as she was of scaring Jenny away, Erin had to be honest. "I can't talk to you if you're going to lie to your father or keep secrets about us from him."
Jenny blinked. "He's going to be really mad, but I had to come." She gripped the arms of her chair and untwined her legs. "You look like I remember."
Erin was encouraged that Jenny had any recollections of her at all. "I can't say the same for you." Holding up one hand she measured the distance to the floor. "You were about this tall the last time I saw you."
In a pitifully forlorn little voice, Jenny asked, "Why did you go away and leave me?" She dropped her head, breaking eye contact. "I thought you might say in your interview, but you didn't."
This was the opportunity Erin had hoped for since that fateful morning eight years ago when she drove her little Ford through the streets of Summerville for the last time before turning left and heading west down Highway Ten. "As trite as it must sound to you, I thought I was doing what was best for all concerned. You see..." Erin paused. She suspected that Gabe was the one stable influence in her daughter's life. She couldn't cast him in a bad light by telling Jenny of his cruel decision not to let her see her own child.
Jenny raised her head and turned it to one side. "Daddy did something that made you go away, didn't he?"
That truth might do irreparable harm. Erin soothed her conscience by telling herself that she wasn't lying, just evading. "Indirectly, yes he did."
Sudden, unreasonable anger brought Jenny to her feet. "That's not an answer. I came here for answers." She sat back down. "I'm sorry." A contrite frown pulled at her smooth brow. "Nobody will tell me why you went away and never came back."
Erin thought as she watched Jenny's changing expressions that told of her confusion and turmoil, that she had every right to be angry. She deserved an explanation. "I went away because your father refused to let me see you. I knew it would be better for me and I thought it would be better for you if I went somewhere else." Her voice broke. After a struggling second, she went on. "I know now that running away was a mistake." How easy it was to be wise after the fact.
Jenny leaned forward. "You could have come back anytime you wanted to."
The reproach in her voice broke Erin's heart. "Oh, I wanted to, so many times. I didn't think I had the right." That was the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. "I was afraid Gabe wouldn't let me see you and afraid too, that you would hate me for running away."
Jenny sat very still for several seconds. "Why have you come back now?"
"I guess you could say my past finally caught up to me. Again, I was forced to make a decision. This time I hope it's the right one." Her daughter wanted an explanation. That was what she was going to get, with no holds barred. "I've wanted to tell you my side of the story for years."
"I've wanted to hear for years, too." Leaning back, Jenny waited.
"This is..." Erin's voice trailed away. How inadequate she felt. "This is not an easy story to tell. Please be patient." She gripped the arms of her chair, and spoke in a low persuasive tone. "I went away because it seemed, at the time, the best thing for everyone concerned, and in some ways, I still think it was."
Jenny's frown told of her confusion. "A while ago you said it wasn't best."
Erin nodded. "I know what I said and both statements are true."
Jenny's frown seemed glued to her face. "You sound like Daddy now, always talking in riddles." Her interest was aroused.
"That's not a riddle, it's a paradox."
Jenny's bottom lip protruded. "I don't know what a paradox is and I don't see how two opposite things can both be true."
"Your feelings for your father are a paradox, I think," Erin spoke softly. "I know you love him very much, but sometimes you don't like him very well. Even when you don't like him, you love him. Am I right?"
Jenny's brow wrinkled in thought. "I guess so. Yes."
Erin's wry smile returned. "That's what my going away was like for me. In some ways it broke my heart to leave. In some ways it was a relief. I got away from some bad memories. I had the chance to start over again in a new place. And I kept tabs on you. Aunt Maybelle called me every Friday evening to tell me how you were doing."
"Are you talking about my Great-Aunt Maybelle?" Jenny shook her head as if trying to grasp the totality of Erin's revelation. "All this time Aunt Maybelle knew where you went?"
On this issue Erin felt compelled to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. "Maybe she didn't tell you, but I'm sure your father knew."
"Why didn't Daddy tell me you were asking about me?"
Uncertainty edged in around Erin's resolve to tell the whole truth. By calling Gabe's actions into question she was undermining Jenny's love and respect for him. That was what he deserved. She couldn't be that cruel to her daughter. "I'm sure your father did what he thought was best."
For the moment, that seemed to suffice. Jenny asked, "You really did miss me?"
"Yes. Very much and I never forgot you."
Jenny dropped her head and stared up from under her lashes. "I never forgot you either." She lifted her face. "Were you afraid, going off all by yourself?"
"Terrified," Erin admitted.
"Where did you go?"
"I went to Arizona." If she was going to tell Jenny about her flight to oblivion, she may as well tell it all. "Aunt Maybelle had some friends named Charles and Mary Carson who lived in Phoenix. The Carsons took me into their home and helped me find a job."
Jenny wagged her head from side to side, loosening a small shower of raindrops from her hair. "It all sounds so mysterious and exciting."
Erin's mind moved backward in time to what seemed now to be another life. "It wasn't either, I'm afraid. The Carsons worked for a very wealthy, but somewhat reclusive man. Charles was his chauffeur and handyman. Mary was his housekeeper. I went to work in his home as a maid and kitchen helper."
"Reclusive?" Jenny looked puzzled. "Is that like a hermit?"
Erin felt a little more tension drain from her. "A little, I suppose. He didn't like people. He kept to himself."
Jenny seemed intrigued. Her eyes were alight with interest. "Was he very rich?"
"Yes, very."
"Was he handsome?"
"He was a good man, kind and considerate." Across Erin's memory there flashed a picture of Sheldon Bennett, tall and gaunt with his hawk-like profile and that shock of dark, unruly hair. "Sometimes that's more important than physical attractiveness."
"What was his name?"
Erin's mouth seemed reluctant to release the words. "Sheldon Bennett."
Jenny's eyes widened. "The man you married?"
"Yes, but that was two years later. My husband passed away last year."
Jenny ran her fingers through her damp curls. "Were you sad when he died?"
Those words closed around Erin's heart like a vise. "I will always be sad that I lost him, but his death made me reassess my life and gave me the courage to come back and face you."
"Did he know about me?" Something in Jenny's sad tone made Erin want to weep. She reached across the small space that separated them, and took Jenny's hand in hers.
"He knew, of course, he knew. I never tired of talking about you and he never tired of listening."
Jenny squeezed Erin's hand. "Thank you for telling me that."
After that honest admission, the barriers began to fall. For the better part of the next hour, they sat, talking of events that had transpired over the past eight years. The grandfather clock striking the half hour made Erin take note of the time. "Good heavens," She exclaimed. "It's half past eleven. You should be in bed."
Jenny giggled. "So should you." She yawned. "I have to go home before someone misses me."
"You can't go out alone in the dark and in this storm." Erin nodded toward the telephone on a nearby table. "Call your father and have him come for you."
Jenny bolted to her feet. "No! I don't want Daddy to know I came here."
The fear Erin saw in her daughter's eyes disturbed her. "I can take you home."
"If Daddy saw you with me, he'd be mad at you too."
Gabe was mad at her. He had been for eight long years. "I'll call a cab." Erin stood and walked toward the telephone.
"No, Erin." Jenny took a step in her mother's direction. "I won't let you do that. Daddy might see the cab."
Erin sat back down and motioned for Jenny to do the same. "How did you get here?" Before Jenny could answer, she fired another question. "Did you ride a bus?"
Jenny eased into the chair she had previously relinquished. "I walked."
Erin hid her anxiety behind a benign smile. "That is quite a ways to walk."
Jenny spread her hands in a dismissive gesture. "I took the short cut through Arbor Heights."
Arbor Heights was the seediest neighborhood in Summerville. It was peopled with prostitutes, drug addicts, pimps, pushers, homeless vagrants, petty thieves, and thugs. The shabby, dim-lit streets were lined with bars, brothels, strip clubs, soup kitchens, and cheap hotels. The knowledge that her daughter walked alone, and clad only in shorts and a skimpy tee shirt, through that terrible place, was enough to send Erin into a tailspin of alarm. She was set to deliver a much-deserved tongue lashing to this foolish child. That might drive her back into the night. "You must call your dad." Slowly, carefully, Erin backed her demand with sound reasoning. It took a while, but she finally convinced Jenny that she should ask Gabe to come for her. "Suppose he wakes and finds you gone?"
"I hadn't thought of that. I'll call, but not until tomorrow." Out of the blue, she asked, "Can I stay here tonight?"
Facing her father after openly defying him was not going to be an easy thing for Jenny to do. How well Erin could empathize with those feelings of fear and anxiety. "You can stay the night, or what's left of it."
Jenny's face shaped into a bright smile. "Thank You, Mrs.—Erin, Thank you very much."
"Why don't I help you get settled in upstairs? I can call your father, if you'd like."
"Would you?" Jenny looked pensive. "He's going to be really mad. I'll give you his private number. You have to promise to wait until tomorrow to call."
Erin promised. Technically, she had kept that promise. After settling Jenny into an upstairs bedroom, she sat down and waited until precisely one minute after twelve o'clock before dialing Gabe's number. That was twenty-five minutes ago.
The screech of a car stopping in front of the house brought Erin to her feet. She made her way out of the bedroom and toward the stairs. The sound of a woman's inquiring voice stopped her before she could set a foot on the first step. "Erin, is that you?"
"Mary?" Erin questioned. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Charlie and I are both up. The storm woke us. What are you doing wandering around the house at this hour of the night?"
"I was coming to answer the door." Erin peered down into the semi darkness of the foyer. "I'm expecting Gabriel Harrow." She heard Mary's sudden intake of breath.
"Why is he coming here?"
"Jenny came here after she saw Marc's TV program. Gabe is coming for her."
"You don't have to talk to him." Mary was resolute. "Go back upstairs. I'll send Mr. Gabriel Harrow packing in short order."
"Don't do that. I want to see him."
"But Erin—"
Erin descended the stairs. "I have some things to say to Mr. Harrow. I can't sleep until I get them off my chest. Please, do as I ask."
Mary wasn't to be deterred. "Only if you go back upstairs and wait until I call you."
Erin retraced her footsteps up the stairs and pointed her feet in the direction of her bedroom.
