| |
––––––––
Gabe's hasty departure left Erin and Jenny sitting in the front parlor staring at each other in awkward silence. Finally Erin broke the uncomfortable quiet. "Do you like your room?"
Jenny shrugged. "Yes, it's very nice."
"I'm glad." Erin searched for something, anything, to say. "Is your dad going to visit Aunt Maybelle?"
"Yes, but it's not his usual day."
"I've planned some activities for the weekend. Would you like to hear what they are?" Every word Erin uttered put more distance between her and the child who sat across from her.
"That would be nice," Jenny answered without enthusiasm.
"I've rented some movies. Later this evening we can watch one. Any one you choose will be fine with me." She was babbling like an idiot. "We can have dinner in front of the TV. Do you like hot dogs?"
"Yes, very much," Jenny looked almost as uncomfortable as Erin felt. "Cora says they're bad for me."
How unfair it was that Cora, not Erin, was the woman to help shape her daughter's formative years. "We can forget about what Cora says. Her rules don't count here." That sounded petty, but she didn't care. Erin bared her teeth in what she hoped passed for a smile. "Tomorrow you can help me make ready for our dinner guest. Sunday we're invited to your Aunt's Liz's for the noon meal."
Jenny's interest was aroused. "We're having a guest tomorrow? Who is it?"
Erin kept her tone casual. "Marc Renfro."
Jenny asked on a caught breath, "The TV star?"
"One and the same, he should be here around seven tomorrow evening."
Jenny's crust of reserve cracked like an eggshell. "Marc Renfro is coming here?" Her eyes widened. "Gollee!" On the end of a gulp, she asked, "Do you really know him, like personally?"
The knot of tension in Erin's stomach began to untie. "I suppose you could say that."
"I can help make dinner for him? I'm going to meet him? Do you think he would give me his autograph?"
"Dinner is cooked and frozen." A bubble of happiness expanded inside Erin. "All we have to do is thaw and warm. You can ask Marc about the autograph. He will be here all evening." She moved in the direction of the kitchen. "Would you like to help with dinner? After that we can select that movie."
"Oh, yes." Jenny followed. "Can we really have hot dogs?"
"That's the menu for tonight—hot dogs."
"With lots of mustard and relish?" Jenny caught up to Erin. "I like mustard and relish on my hot dogs."
"So do I." The bubble expanded. Erin pushed it down. She must temper her joy with caution. It would not be wise to expect too much too soon. "I like to top all that with a huge blob of chili."
"You eat chili on your hot dogs?" Jenny stopped just inside the kitchen door. "I never tried that, but I like corn chips on the side."
Erin opened the refrigerator and took out a package of wieners. "I've never tried corn chips with hot dogs." She walked to the table and set the wieners down. "Tell you what, I'll try your corn chips if you'll try my chili."
"It's a deal," Jenny laughingly agreed and then sobered to ask, "Do you have corn chips?"
Erin thought of the stash of chips, dips, crackers and mixes she bought earlier. "Why don't you look in the cupboard and see?" She pointed to the door on her left. "I'll start making the hot dogs."
Later, in the back parlor that had been converted to a den, they watched one of the films Erin rented as they ate hot dogs loaded with mustard and relish, topped with generous amounts of chili, with heaps of corn chips on the side.
As the movie came to an end and the TV screen faded to black, Jenny yawned and said, "That was scary and funny, too. What's it called?"
"Arsenic and Old Lace," Erin replied. "I'm glad you liked it. It's one of my favorites. Do you like old movies?"
"I've only seen a few. Sometimes we watch one at school." The conversation moved from movies to school with Jenny doing most of the talking. She told Erin of her dislike for biology, her love for her literature class, and her problems with algebra. "I can't add numbers, now I'm trying to add the alphabet. Kim helps me. I told you about her. She's my best friend." A quizzical look crossed Jenny's face. "Did you have a best friend when you were growing up?"
"I had Liz. She's my sister, and my best friend." Remembering her childhood brought a touch of nostalgia. "We were always there for each other. We still are."
Jenny's expression moved from questioning to melancholy. "It must be nice to have a sister, or even a brother."
Jenny should have sisters and brothers. Erin renewed her vow not to dwell on the past. "Tell me about Kim. Does she have sisters and brothers?"
"No." Jenny dusted corn chip crumbs from her lap. "Her mother and dad are divorced and they're both married again. Kim lives with her mother during the week and goes to her dad's on weekends, so she almost has a normal family."
Erin kept her voice light. "I'm not sure I know what a normal family is."
"It's like a mother and a dad, and brothers and sisters and they all live together and they're happy."
It must be wonderful to be young enough to believe that happiness could be a constant. "You have a family," Erin said. "You have your dad and Cora and Mavis."
"I know," Jenny shrugged, "but it's not the same." Apparently embarrassed that she had revealed such intimate feelings to someone who was little more than a stranger, she changed the subject. "Did you get Charles and Mary the way Daddy and I got Cora and Mavis?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"We got Cora and Mavis because Grandpa married Cora. Is that how you got Charles and Mary? Was your husband their brother or something?"
Jenny thought Sheldon was related to Charles and Mary. "No, Charles and Mary worked for my husband. Sheldon had no living relatives. He was alone in the world."
Jenny's head tilted to one side. "You mean he didn't have anyone at all, not even any friends?"
"No." Recalling brought a touch of sorrow. "Sheldon's relatives were all dead and he didn't choose to have friends. He was very reclusive."
"I remember what that word means. He was a hermit."
"Well," Erin paused to reflect that her daughter was not only perceptive she was intelligent. "Almost."
"But you knew him because you worked in his home?"
"As strange as it sounds, I didn't see Sheldon for weeks after I went to work for him and when I did meet him, I didn't know who he was." Erin set her dinner tray aside. "I thought he was the gardener."
"How did that happen?" Jenny's eyes widened.
"It's a long story." Erin's mind floated back through the trailing mists of memory. "And a rather boring one."
"It sounds exciting to me." Jenny settled against the couch pillows. "Like a regular romance. Tell me what happened."
Erin pulled a pillow into her lap and laid her arms across it. "Sheldon's house was huge, a regular mansion. Charles and Mary lived in the caretaker's cottage behind the main house. That's where I lived too. In the evenings after dinner, I would go for a walk in the big formal gardens that separated the cottage from the big house. I found a very special place near a pond and beside a lovely little rose garden with trellises and an arbor. I sat there in the evenings and read a book or relaxed and enjoyed the beauty of the flowers and the trees and listened to the singing birds."
"You were lonely," Jenny said with conviction.
"Yes, very." Erin agreed before continuing with her story. "One evening I arrived at my special place to find a man digging around the rose bushes. He was wearing jeans and a straw hat. I assumed he was the groundskeeper. I introduced myself and told him I was the new kitchen maid. I asked him if he was Mr. Bennett's gardener. He said he was the nearest thing to a gardener Mr. Bennett had. I thought he was being modest. I asked if he thought Mr. Bennett would mind if I walked through his garden in the evenings and he said that he could assure me, Mr. Bennett wouldn't mind at all."
Jenny leaned forward. "I was right; this is an exciting story and a mysterious one too. What happened next?"
Erin's eyes rested lovingly on her daughter's face. "Over the next few weeks the gardener and I became friends. After a while, we met at the little pond near the roses every evening. Sometimes I packed a picnic supper and we ate there. Sometimes I brought a book of poetry and read to Sheldon, only I didn't know then he was Sheldon Bennett. He told me to call him Bob. Then Bob did a very strange thing. He asked me to keep our meetings a secret. When I wanted to know why, he said he had good reason, and if I could have a little faith in him, he would explain later."
Jenny's face was alight with interest. "Did you agree?"
Erin nodded. "I was a little reluctant, but he persuaded me." Until this day, she couldn't explain how she knew, even then, she could trust this quiet, reserved man.
"When did you learn who he really was?"
"Almost three months later he told me he was Sheldon Bennett. He explained that his hobby was gardening, so he could be considered the gardener. His middle name was Robert."
"Were you surprised?" Jenny asked over a giggle.
"I was surprised, I was also angry." Vivid pictures from the past skipped through Erin's mind. "I felt I'd been duped."
"Did he apologize for fooling you?"
Reminiscence put a smile on Erin's face. "Yes, he did. He went on to explain that this was the first time in his life he was sure someone liked him for himself instead of being afraid they were nice to him because he was Sheldon Bennett, heir to a vast fortune."
Jenny hung onto Erin's every word. "When did you fall in love with him?"
She couldn't tell her young daughter that, although she did love Sheldon, she had never fallen in love with him. "He was my hero and my Pygmalion."
Jenny wrinkled her nose. "What is a Pygmalion?"
"It's not a thing it's a..."Her voice trailed away before once again gaining force. "He was my Henry Higgins."
Understanding lit Jenny's eyes. "Like the Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady? He taught you how to speak?"
"That and so much more; he insisted I attend college. He took me to the few exclusive affairs he attended. He taught me about music, art, and so many other things. He introduced me to a whole new world. Most importantly, he helped me find myself."
"How do you find yourself?" A look of puzzlement spread across Jenny's young face.
It's not easy." Erin smiled at Jenny's literal interpretation of her statement. "It has to do with growing up, and finding your way. I was fortunate. I had Sheldon to guide me."
"Then you married him," Jenny concluded.
Erin chuckled. "It took me a while to agree to do that, and even then I wasn't sure."
"Why not?" Jenny asked over a yawn.
The clock in the front parlor began to strike. Erin glanced at her watch. "Good heavens, Jenny, it's eleven o'clock. I promised your father you'd be in bed by ten." She pointed toward the stairs. "Off with you, now."
"Do I have to? I want to hear more of your story."
"Tomorrow I'll tell you more, but for now it's bedtime."
"I'll go," Jenny stretched and yawned, "but I won't sleep." She inched toward the stairs. "I'm too excited. I can't wait to meet Marc Renfro."
After Jenny's reluctant departure, Erin took dishes to the kitchen, swept up crumbs and straightened pillows before she began the weary climb up the stairs to her bedroom.
Jenny might not be able to sleep, Erin thought as she stretched out on her bed. She would, and she did. Slumber took her almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She awoke the next morning to see Jenny standing in the doorway of her bedroom. "Are you awake?"
Bright shafts of sunlight streamed through the windows. Erin shook the last tentacles of sleep from her drowsy brain. "How long have you been out of bed?" She sat up, and motioned for Jenny to come in. "Did you sleep well?"
"I dreamed about meeting Marc Renfro." Jenny perched on a chair near the door. "He will be here in less than twelve hours. Shouldn't we get ready for him?"
"Don't you think we should have breakfast first?" Erin sat on the side of her bed and slipped her arms into her robe.
"Then can we start?" Jenny asked.
What Erin had feared might be a long day, flew by. As the hours passed Jenny's enthusiasm mounted. By six-thirty, she was agog with excitement.
"I'm going to meet a real TV star. Wait until I tell everybody at school. Even Mavis will be excited. She'll prob'ly want another Ken doll so she can add a Ken-Marc to her collection."
Remembering Mavis's strange fascination with Ken and Barbie made Erin smile. "What collection?"
"Mavis has a doll for all the important people in her life." Jenny used her fingers to enumerate. "She has a Barbie-Cora, and a Ken-Gabe, and a Barbie-Jenny, and a Barbie-Aunt Maybelle. She even has a Barbie-Mavis. She plays games with them. I'll bet she could make up a real fun game with a Ken-Marc doll."
The ringing doorbell interrupted Jenny's lengthy recital.
"That must be Marc." Erin asked Jenny, "Would you like to let him in?"
Marc, bless him, was no disappointment. Handsome, urbane, cosmopolitan and completely charming, he would have turned the head of a female much more mature and sophisticated than little Jenny Harrow. Through dinner he delighted his audience of two with stories about celebrities, politicians, presidents, foreign heads of state, even dissidents and criminals that he had interviewed through the years. Later, over coffee and dessert Jenny found the courage to ask for his autograph. She was rewarded with an autograph and the promise of a picture to be delivered soon. The evening was a whopping success. But how could it be anything else? Marc loved talking about himself and Jenny loved listening.
The weekend came close to being perfect, so close, that by Sunday afternoon a thread of apprehension wove its way through Erin's elation. Was she tempting fate to dare believe she could find her way back into her daughter's life so easily?
She pulled her car into reverse, backed from Liz's driveway, and turned to glance at her daughter. Her heart swelled with happiness. "Fasten your seat belt."
Jenny complied. Over the snap, she said, "I had a good time. I wish we could have stayed longer. Aunt Liz is nice, Uncle Logan is funny, and Josh and Rick are so much fun."
"We will come back again soon," Erin promised as she eased her car into drive and pulled onto the gravel road. "We have to get home. Your dad is coming for you at four."
"I know." Jenny lapsed into silence, visibly content to stare out the car window at the passing scenery. It was a comfortable quiet.
Erin concentrated on driving. She pulled onto the interstate and increased her speed. Gabe would be arriving in less than an hour to collect Jenny. That realization hit with sudden impact. In less than an hour Jenny would be gone.
"Erin, are you going to answer?" Jenny's clear young voice broke through Erin's gloomy thoughts.
"What's the question?"
"Don't you think Marc Renfro is even more handsome in person than he is on TV?"
Erin made a right turn into her drive. "I hadn't thought about it, but now that you mention it, he is." She stopped her car and set the brake. "Let's get inside and get your things together. Your dad will be here soon."
They had scarcely made it inside the house, gathered Jenny's scattered belongings, and stuffed them into her bag when Gabe pulled into the drive and stopped behind Erin's car.
"He's here," Jenny called over her shoulder to Erin, as she lugged her bag down the stairs.
Erin followed Jenny down the steps. "We made it just in time."
Gabe pressed his finger into the doorbell at the exact moment Jenny dropped into a chair near the door.
Erin called, "Come in, it's unlocked."
*****
As Gabe came through the door, his gaze scanned his daughter. "I see you're ready to go." Nodding toward Erin he asked, "How are you?" His gaze swung back to Jenny. "Let's get cracking."
Jenny hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "Bye, Erin. I had a super good time."
Erin said, "I did too. I'll see you next weekend."
"Can I come back next weekend?" Jenny asked as she neared the door.
"We'll talk about that later." Gabe held the door open for Jenny. "Good bye, Erin."
They were in the car and far down the road before Jenny spoke again. When she did it was to accuse. "Daddy, you were rude to Erin."
"I wasn't rude. I'm in a hurry. I didn't have time to stop and talk." Gabe got a firmer grip on the steering wheel. "Did you have a nice visit?"
Jenny sulked in the far corner of the car seat. "Yes." She turned to stare out the window.
Gabe knew he should leave well enough alone. He couldn't. "Did you visit your Aunt Liz?"
Jenny smiled. "Erin and I had Sunday dinner with Aunt Liz and her family. They're nice, Daddy. I wish you could have been there. You would have had fun getting to know them."
Gabe knew them too well already. "I'm acquainted with both Logan and Elizabeth."
Jenny turned to face her father. "But you don't know Josh and Rick. Would you like to meet them? I can introduce you." She smiled as if she found that prospect pleasing.
Gabe snapped, "Sometime maybe." No doubt he was being paranoid. He couldn't shake the feeling that Liz Cantrell would do anything in her power to turn his daughter against him. "Did your Aunt Liz mention me?"
"No, she didn't." Jenny's smooth brow wrinkled. "Why do you ask?"
Gabe decided he'd best leave that subject alone. "Tell me what else you did over the weekend."
Jenny brightened considerably. "Friday night we watched an old movie called Arsenic and Old Lace. It was funny and scary all at the same time. Don't tell Cora, but we had hot dogs for dinner."
Gabe hid a fugitive smile. "My lips are sealed. Did you get to bed on time?"
"I was a little late Friday night," Jenny admitted. "Erin and I were talking. Time got away from us."
Gabe raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" Jenny could have lied to him about getting to bed on time. He was pleased she didn't. "What could have been so interesting that you lost all track of time?"
"Erin was telling me about how she met her husband."
The words fairly flew from Gabe's mouth. "Her husband?"
Jenny made a funny little fluttering noise deep in her throat. "I mean her second husband, the one she married after she divorced you."
Perspiration broke out across Gabe's upper lip. "I divorced Erin, she didn't divorce me."
Jenny shrugged. "Whatever, anyway it was a real romantic story. Do you want me to tell it to you?"
"No." Gabe stopped at a red light and turned to stare in Jenny's direction. "Tell me more about your visit with Aunt Liz."
"I will later, but first I have to tell you about Saturday night."
Gabe teased, "More movies, more romantic stories?" The light turned green. He pushed down on the accelerator, causing the car to lunge forward. "Spare me."
"Slow down, Daddy." Jenny put a hand on the dashboard to steady herself.
Gabe eased up on the accelerator. He was becoming suspicious. "Is there some reason you don't want to talk about your visit to your Aunt Liz's house?"
"No. I had a good time. Rick and Josh said the next time I visit I can ride horse back with them. I promised them the next time I saw Marc Renfro, I'd get his autograph for them."
Jenny's words exploded inside Gabe's brain like an incendiary bomb. He pulled to the curb, and brought his car to a screeching halt. "What did you say?"
A flicker of apprehension crossed Jenny's face. "I said I promised—"
"No. What did you say about Marc Renfro?" He gripped the steering wheel and stared with unseeing eyes at the Sunday evening traffic speeding up and down the highway.
Jenny replied, "I said I told Josh next time I saw Marc Renfro, I'd ask for two more autographs, one for him and one for Rick."
Gabe's voice was a low rumble. "Where did you see Marc Renfro?"
"He had dinner with Erin and me Saturday night," A note of belligerence slipped into Jenny's voice. "And he gave me his autograph and he's going to bring me a picture of him."
Gabe turned to face his daughter. "Marc Renfro the news commentator came to Erin's house for dinner Saturday night?" His jaw clenched, so did his fists. Had Erin deliberately deceived him again? His head told him yes, his heart argued that maybe Erin was victimized by a clever news commentator.
Jenny recoiled. "Daddy, what's wrong with you?"
Gabe made a concentrated effort to bring his anger under control. His jaw unclenched and his hands relaxed as he fired questions in quick staccato: "What did Marc Renfro say to you? What did you say to him? What kind of questions did he ask you? Did he take pictures of you?"
Clearly bewildered, Jenny asked, "Why did you stop the car on the side of the street?"
Once more Gabe gripped the wheel and was surprised to find his hands were shaking. "Who else was there?"
"There was nobody else, just Erin and me and Marc." Jenny looked more puzzled by the minute. "I thought you were in a hurry."
"I am." Gabe started the motor and pulled back into the stream of traffic. "Think carefully. I need to know everything that happened Saturday night." They were nearing home. Gabe slowed and made a right turn before glancing in Jenny's direction. "Are you going to answer?"
Jenny's lower lip shaped into a pout. "I need some time to think, 'cause we talked about a lot of things."
As his first hot blast of anger subsided, Gabe realized he was scaring and confusing his daughter. He calmed his voice. "Like what?"
"Are you mad at Marc?"
"Jenny, please, you know how I feel about you calling adults by their given names."
Jenny's bottom lip protruded a little farther. "He asked me to call him Marc, so there."
Gabe decided to try another approach. "Why don't we put this conversation on hold? Cora and Mavis missed you. Cora's made a special dinner. Let's get home, you can unpack, we will eat and afterward you and I can talk again. By then maybe you will remember all about your little visit with Mr. Renfro." Gabe had to get to the bottom of this situation and the sooner the better.
Jenny shook her head. "We won't have time to talk after dinner 'cause I have to get ready for school tomorrow." It was obvious that she didn't want to talk more about Marc Renfro. She looked around the car. "I left my book bag at Erin's."
Since it was apparent that Jenny didn't intend to discuss her visit with Marc Renfro, he would go to the source. "Call Erin when we get home. Tell her I'll be by after dinner to pick up your bag." There was a time when he would have believed his ex-wife was a naïve young woman who had been duped by a suave news commentator. Not anymore, the new Erin was, no doubt, a scheming manipulator. He stopped the car at the curb. "Get out, we're home."
