Elizabeth's Daughter Page 10

  Gail’s face registered surprise. “My goodness. How can you ask?”

  “I remember when I first saw him I found him both homely and attractive – if that makes sense. As I got to know him better I found... find him more and more attractive, but....”

  “I hardly know what he looks like, physically,” Gail interjected, “but spiritually, emotionally and psychically, he’s highly attractive – as in magnetic. You just want to be close to him and talk with him.”

  “You just,” Elizabeth clarified.

  “Yes, me, I mean me. Don’t you too?”

  “Well, yes. But I met him at a difficult time and all those things happened... switching houses and selling him the car. Nothing has been usual around him. I haven’t been able to separate the person from the events.”

  “People bring events to themselves,” Gail said.

  “You believe that?!” Elizabeth asked, incredulous. “What a frightening thought. It’s enough for me to try and make sense of the events I’m consciously trying to deal with, without being responsible for what I might unwittingly produce out in the ether.

  “Anyway,” she continued, changing the subject, “I think the two of you make a great couple.”

  “Peter and me?” Gail burst out. “Oh, no, it’s not Peter and me. I think he’s wonderful, but it’s a brother-sister feeling. No, dear heart. The couple is Peter and you.”

  “Oh, Gail, please. I’m not Peter’s sort. He’s too... everything. Wise, intelligent, worldly, clever. Well read. I mean, I act like a pal around him, but the truth of the matter is that I’m awestruck by him. Intimidated even.”

  Gail said nothing more, and they lazily watched the fire.

  “But it was a wonderful evening,” Elizabeth said.

  “A wonderful evening,” Gail agreed.

  Elizabeth stood, cuddling Amy. “Nighty-nite, Gail.”

  “Nite-nite, my two pets.”

  Chapter XV

  The next Friday, Elizabeth and Gail and Amy came in through Peter’s back door like family.

  “Smells good!” Gail announced.

  “I’ve made a vegetable baked-feast,” Peter said.

  “What’s that?” Elizabeth turned Amy around so Peter could give the baby a little kiss. “A huge breakfast, only later in the day?”

  “No, I baked everything, whole and in its natural state. Potatoes, carrots, big red onions, tomatoes, bell peppers, brocolli.”

  He turned on the oven light and they all peeked in at the phalanx of beautiful, whole vegetables.

  “It looks like you know what you’re doing,” Gail said, “everything will be ready at the same time.”

  “Hah!” Amy said.

  They all laughed. “You’re not about to be left out, are you, baby,” Elizabeth said, cuddling her. “So, Peter, show us what you’ve done to the homestead.”

  “I haven’t done anything down here except in the front room.”

  They all trouped through the dining room, then the foyer. They came to the front room that had been Grandfather’s study. Peter had turned it into his library and books were shelved from floor to ceiling.

  “Wow! I didn’t realize you had such a library,” Elizabeth said in awe.

  “Most of the books were in storage. I’ve been planning my library in my mind’s eye since long before I saw this house.” He gestured through the other door of the library and they could see the length of that side of the house. “As you can see, I haven’t done anything to those rooms. Aside from setting up the library, I’ve been concentrating on the upstairs.”

  Elizabeth hadn’t thought about what it would feel like to be in her life-long home the first time since she’d moved out, until this moment, crossing the threshold into Grandfather’s study. Even though it looked entirely different, she had a nearly palpable sense of Grandfather’s presence.

  Elizabeth shifted Amy from one hip to the other. “Do you have the heat shut off in here? It’s kind of cold.”

  Gail had been standing quietly in the doorway of the room. She came and took Amy from Elizabeth. Elizabeth pulled her cardigan tight around her, leaning close to Gail.

  “Ah, well,” Peter hesitated, “I had the room closed off most of today.”

  “Oh,” Elizabeth said. She looked around the room, hoping for any little nook of warmth. But there was none. She studied Peter, who was eying his books as if they seemed strange to him. “You don’t like this room very much, do you?”

  “Quite frankly, no. And it’s disappointing, I had hoped to spend most of my time writing in here. But, I have to tell you, the room is always sort of cold....”

  “That’s really strange because this room always used to get too hot,” Elizabeth said. “If we turned up the heat so that the rest of the house was comfortable, this room would be so hot, you couldn’t stand to stay in it.”

  “I’ll have Ralph give the duct-work a going over.” Peter led them out of the library back into the foyer. “By the way, he said he’s available next Wednesday, ready to work, if you want him.”

  “I want him,” Elizabeth said cheerfully, relieved to leave the library.

  “He’s fantastic,” Peter went on as they climbed the front stairs. “He takes care of things I wouldn’t even think to tell him to take care of. And he does superior work.”

  “I’m glad you decided to keep him on,” Elizabeth said. “He belongs here.”

  Peter nodded. “Yes, he does, more than I do.”

  As they toured the upstairs, it turned out that Peter had taken over Elizabeth’s bedroom for his own. Elizabeth observed that her Samarkand carpet looked even more stunning with Peter’s masculine furniture than it would have with hers.

  “Look at the workmanship,” Peter raved. He pulled up a corner of the carpet to show Gail the reverse side. “Flawless!”

  “Hon, that’s beautiful,” Gail said to Elizabeth. “I wonder if I’ll ever be lucky enough to see such magnificence on the floor where I live?”

  Elizabeth felt shy. “Oh, come on you guys, it’s not that remarkable.”

  “Yes,” Gail said in her not-to-be-contradicted voice. “It is.”

  “Well, I did start that one for the baby’s room... before there was a baby. I guess I should get back to it. It doesn’t set a very good example to start and not finish a project, does it, Amy?” Elizabeth shyly hoped to redirect the focus of attention away from her and onto Amy.

  Amy looked at Elizabeth from the billowy cradle of Gail’s arms, seeming to understand that her opinion had been solicited. “Arr–Bet!” She squiggled and clapped, and smiled her bitsy, self-satisfied smile.

  Elizabeth looked over at Peter, staring at Amy in awe. “She has so much personality.”

  Elizabeth and Gail both laughed. “That’s because she has such personable role models,” Gail said, imitating Amy’s little self-satisfied smile with amusing accuracy.

  They moved out of Peter’s bedroom and down the hall to what had previously been Elizabeth’s rug making room. It was plain to see that this was where Peter did his work. He’ had desk built along three walls, with cork board above. Colored notes by the hundreds were stabbed into the cork board with push pins, and piles of paper were stacked everywhere.

  “I guess this is my favorite room in the house,” Peter confessed. “Out this window, on a clear day, I can see the mountains. And there are all kinds of birds living in these trees. With three walls of desk, I work on three books at a time. This is the most productive period of my life.”

  “Wonderful!” Gail exulted. “That’s all I want to hear! If you wrote a book a day, that’d be about right for me!”

  “Well,” Peter chuckled, “the probability of developing that skill seems fairly remote. But I bet I know what we can accomplish in one evening.”

  “What?” Gail and Elizabeth chorused.

  “Demolish an oven-full of food.”

  “I’ll bet you’re right,” Gail agreed as they hustled down the back stairs into the kitchen.

  Th
ey had dinner in the dining room, all the aromas of the baked foods and Gail’s spicy salad and sweet cherry cobbler filling the air right up to the antique chandelier. The warm light glowed off the red mahogany wainscoting, reflecting a rubescence on their faces, and not a niche of darkness was allowed among the happy banter.

  “Isn’t Peter a good cook?” Gail asked Amy, as Amy downed more mashed carrots.

  Amy looked right at Peter and cried,”Beetie!”

  “Wow! You’re in ‘Beetie’!” Gail laughed.

  Peter glowed. “I’ve been knighted!”

  Gail and Peter and Amy laughed, while Elizabeth smiled serenely.

  A while later Elizabeth excused herself. She left the dining room in the direction of the kitchen, then crept quietly through the rooms on the other side of the house until she came into Peter’s library.

  What was this hollow feeling?

  Finally she turned away from the walls of books and went into the foyer to continue her circuit back to the dining room. Out of the corner of her eye she sensed – or did she really see? – movement on the dark winding stairway.

  She held her breath. An amorphous light shadow hovered on the stairs, then it disappeared. Elizabeth could have perhaps convinced herself it was a stray beam of light through the stained glass windows, if not for the strong scent of liniment. How well she knew that relentless odor that had resided for years on Grandfather’s bedside table.

  Elizabeth waited for several moments, trying to dissuade herself of the sensory impressions she’d just received, but she couldn’t. She returned to the dining room, to the wonderful tangible realities of Amy’s soft, sweet-scented skin, Gail’s pleasant boisterous laughter, and Peter’s quiet study of her.

  She kept the intangible event – the presence of her grandfather – to herself.

  Chapter XVI

  Ralph came over to Elizabeth’s with his tool box and tool belt the following Wednesday. He installed baby gates at the top and bottom of the stairs. Then he, Elizabeth and Gail sat at the kitchen table and designed a fence for the patio. Ralph sketched Elizabeth’s and Gail’s numerous suggestions and they finally came up with a sturdy redwood lattice fence, three-and-a-half feet high, with a gate to the lake shore. Ralph showed them the baby-safe latch he’d bought for the gate.

  Elizabeth hadn’t thought of having a gate in the fence, and she was touched when she realized that Ralph had been ahead of her in the planning of ‘Project: Baby-Safe’ before he even came over.

  Ralph and Gail got along fabulously. Elizabeth had never seen Ralph smile except shyly and deferentially. And, although his demeanor was still shy and deferential, he laughed at Gail’s jokes. Elizabeth had never heard Ralph laugh, either. But then, Grandfather never joked with the “help.”

  Ralph had begun working for Grandfather when Elizabeth was only nine, and all she’d noticed at that time was that when this man was with Grandfather, Grandfather was too busy for her. She’d learned to stay out of their way.

  Since she’d only seen Ralph with Grandfather most of her life she had it in her mind that they were close to the same age, that Ralph was much older than, in fact, he was. But now she saw that he was a youthful and energetic man, probably only in his late forties, good-looking, lean and silver-haired. For the first time in her life she watched him work. He made an art of it, handling his tools as if they were extensions of his mind and hands. Which, she realized, they were.

  It was apparent that it didn’t hurt Gail’s eyes to watch him, either. Elizabeth came up beside her, stopped in her chores to watch Ralph constructing the fence.

  “Interesting?” Elizabeth whispered.

  Gail nodded. “He’s a good worker, isn’t he?”

  “I mean, as a man,” Elizabeth clarified.

  “Oh, Lizzie!” Gail protested. “Will you stop matching me with every man you see me talk to?”

  “It’s only been Peter and Ralph,” Elizabeth pointed out. “And only because they seem to like you and you seem to like them.”

  “Oh, well, men always like Gail,” Gail said, continuing into the kitchen.

  Elizabeth understood that Gail was probably right... men probably always did like her.

  * *

  As Amy’s surgery drew nearer, Elizabeth became more and more nervous. She found it difficult to go to work and almost impossible to sleep.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!” Gail finally said. “I thought we agreed that you would not upset yourself about this routine surgery.”

  “I’m hopeless, I know!” Elizabeth acquiesced. “But... if you knew everything I’m thinking, you probably wouldn’t like me very much anymore.”

  “What?”

  Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table and watched Gail knead bread. The kitchen was permeated with the scent of yeast.

  “What would it be like if you weren’t here,” Elizabeth wondered quietly.

  “Why would you go and say a thing like that? I couldn’t be happier, I’m not about to leave.” Gail didn’t miss a beat of her bread dough slapping against the bread board.

  “No? Why would you stay if I didn’t have Amy?”

  Gail stopped her rhythmic kneading. “What ever are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking... ooh! I feel so torn, so guilty... but, okay, here goes. Amy’s about to have surgery.”

  “Yes,” Gail urged.

  “It will correct her... imperfection, if all goes well.”

  “Which it will.”

  “Then Amy will... she’ll get... adopted Gail. Hasn’t the thought crossed your mind?”

  “Oh!” Gail turned her back on her bread board. “No, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  “And she’ll leave and you’ll leave and our whole perfect life will be over!”

  “Now, just a second,” Gail went back to kneading the bread dough, then she divided it and put it in a couple of bread pans, put a dish towel over them to rise. She came over and sat opposite Elizabeth. “Of course we want – whatever the future holds, for Amy to be made whole and to be well.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth agreed.

  “So this was a river we’d have to cross sooner or later. Look, Elizabeth, even if Amy is adopted, you’ll get another foster child, and I’ll stay here. As long as you want me.”

  “It was such a challenge getting Amy that I can’t imagine repeating that experience.”

  “Don’t worry, Pet. It’ll never be so tough again. The first time you had to be approved and checked into, and observed. Now you could probably get several kids, if you wanted.”

  “But I don’t want any other kids. I want Amy. I feel like... like she’s mine! I mean, particularly. I realize Mrs. Vargas won’t give me much credit on that score since Amy is my first foster child, but I believe there’s a special bond between Amy and me. And I thought you did too. How can you so casually suggest us shifting our affection to some other child?”

  “It’s not casual,” Gail protested. “It’s just – the facts of life. If Amy is given a wonderful home with wonderful people, then....”

  “She has a wonderful home with wonderful people. I want to adopt Amy.”

  “Then you’d better have a talk with Mrs. Vargas,” Gail said quietly.

  Elizabeth’s face and shoulders relaxed. “Do you think I can tell her I want to adopt Amy?”

  “What are your chances of you don’t?”

  “You’re right” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. She reached over and squeezed Gail’s hand. “You’re so awesome. Would you believe I’ve been afraid to even talk with you? I was afraid it’d sound like I hoped the operation wouldn’t go well for Amy. I just can’t stand the thought of losing her.”

  “But don’t forget to be calm.”

  “Yes, yes, I’ll practice. I’ll practice with you, you can be Mrs. Vargas.”

  Elizabeth practiced with Gail for several days what she would say to Mrs. Vargas, and she practiced, above all else, how she would remain calm, no matter what the outcome.

/>   * *

  A week later she found herself sitting next to Mrs. Vargas’ secretary’s desk, waiting for Mrs. Vargas to see her. She was as nervous as an understudy at a premier performance, but she felt confident. Why would anyone deny Amy to her, least of all, Mrs. Vargas?

  Finally the office door opened. “Hello, Elizabeth,” Mrs Vargas said. “It’s good to see you. Please, be seated.” She ushered her into the office and gestured to a chair opposite a huge desk. The walls were covered with photos of children of every color and description.

  “They should make a wall paper out of your walls,” Elizabeth suggested.

  Mrs. Vargas looked around, then chuckled. “What an interesting idea! I’ve never noticed how full the walls have become. I just stick up the next picture when I have another child to work with. But you’re right, they’re beautiful, aren’t they, my rainbow children walls?”

  “Very, very beautiful,” Elizabeth agreed.

  Mrs. Vargas focussed her attention on Elizabeth. “But tell me about you, is there a problem?”

  “Oh no! I mean yes, that is, things as they are, are perfect.” Elizabeth relaxed in the warm presence of Mrs. Vargas. “But... I want to adopt Amy,” she blurted. Boy, she thought, I sure didn’t rehearse that!

  Unruffled, Mrs. Vargas nodded thoughtfully, quiet for a moment. “Are you sure you know what you’re saying?”

  “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it ever since Amy came into my life. At first it was a kind of fantasy. But now... now I can’t imagine life without her. I mean, it seems like she’s my daughter, and that I’m her mother.

  “I was afraid too that I’d lose Gail as well, but she assures me she’ll stay on, whether for Amy or some other child. And I was glad to hear it. But that doesn’t change how I feel about Amy. And it’s clear Amy loves us, Gail and me. We’re a family. All we need now, I guess, is some documentation. In short, what can I do to expedite adopting Amy?”

  “I’d hate to lose you as a foster parent,” Mrs. Vargas said. “Foster homes where I feel comfortable about the environment and the motive of the people are extremely hard to come by. But aside from that, there is another problem.”