Elizabeth's Daughter Read online

  “Are you having a nice trip?” Gail asked as Elizabeth studied these thoughts out in her cocoa mug.

  Elizabeth giggled self-consciously. “I was just... hoping I’ll grow up to be like you some day!”

  Gail laughed, her plump cheeks ballooning. “Well, thank you, Liz-girl. I hope you grow up like me too, I suppose. Without the excess baggage.” She tweaked her own chubby cheek.

  They laughed, then decided they’d better retire. Tomorrow would be a big day.

  Tony continued avoiding Elizabeth the next day, and she realized that suited her just fine. She wished she didn’t have to be at work today and wondered how often she would have that feeling after Amy moved in. Between working full-time, and real-estate class on Monday nights, she could see that she’d be away from home more than she wanted. Maybe she’d start working part-time, she thought. It wasn’t as if she needed the money. The interest alone from Grandfather’s money was more than she could spend.

  As she thumbed through the multiple listing, she was thinking about her surprising metamorphosis. A mere month ago it would have been hard for her to imagine choosing not to go out with Tony. Now that emotion for Tony seemed insubstantial and adolescent when compared with the feelings she had for Amy.

  Tony left the office at three, and Elizabeth quickly followed suit. She didn’t even feel guilty. She had more important things to attend to than sell houses to strangers. She had to make a home for her own foster daughter.

  When Elizabeth came through the garage into the kitchen, Gail stood by the stove, her hair piled up on her head, gathered up by one of her wild scarves. There was a delicious aroma permeating the air. The house felt warm and cozy and, Elizabeth thought, almost as if it were animate, welcoming her home.

  “What smells so good?” Elizabeth asked. Looking at Gail she wondered if it was possible that she had ever not lived here.

  Gail brushed a wayward tendril of hair off her forehead, which immediately plopped back again. “Quinoa, broccoli, basil and garlic casserole.”

  Elizabeth put her purse and briefcase down in the living room, and came back into the kitchen. “But cooking isn’t part of your job description.”

  “You don’t want me to cook?” Gail asked.

  “I love you to cook. But you don’t have to.”

  “If you think I look forward to eating those frozen dinners you have in the freezer,” Gail pointed her wooden spoon at the offending appliance, “you’re wrong. And I can’t sit around all day, I have to keep busy.”

  “You’re a miracle, Gail,” Elizabeth said. “I think I’ll go up and luxuriate in a hot bath while you slave away in the galley.”

  “That’s a good idea, you look like you need to get rid of some tension. Be sure and put some Epsom salts in the water.”

  “Okay, Mom,” Elizabeth teased.

  Gail shook the wooden spoon at her in response.

  An hour-and-a-half later Elizabeth came back downstairs wearing comfortable, soft cords and an over-sized man’s plaid flannel shirt she’d found in the back of a closet. Peter had apparently over-looked it. She’d been meaning to ask him if he missed it, but she kept forgetting and now she’d grown attached to it.

  “That’s more like it,” Gail said when Elizabeth padded, barefoot, into the kitchen.

  “Are you still in the kitchen, or have you just returned?” Elizabeth asked, looking on the counter for the tea kettle.

  “I put the kettle on the stove when I heard you coming downstairs,” Gail pointed. “I was reading the paper. Then I thought I might try to whip up a bit of dessert if you happened to have the ingredients for anything, which you did.”

  “Really? What did you come up with?”

  “A strawberry mousse. Low calorie, and tasty.”

  “I hope it’s low calorie. Are you sure you aren’t trying to fatten me up?” Elizabeth accused.

  “I’ll bet you don’t put on weight no matter what you eat,” Gail said. “But don’t worry, I have an AA degree in nutrition.”

  “Gee Gail,” Elizabeth exclaimed, “is there anything you can’t do or don’t know?”

  Gail shrugged as if to say, whatever-I-don’t-know-isn’t-worth-knowing. “If what’s around here exemplifies your diet, your nutrition is not in balance. I’ll bet you don’t take vitamins either.”

  “Guilty,” Elizabeth confessed.

  “Motherhood requires energy, you know.”

  The front doorbell rang and Elizabeth and Gail hurried to answer it. Mrs. Vargas was carrying Amy and a pink duffel bag. Elizabeth and Gail rushed to empty her arms.

  “Thanks,” Mrs. Vargas said. “Excuse me for a moment, Amy has some more things.” She turned and scurried back to her car in the driveway.

  Elizabeth, holding Amy, went into the living room. She sat, staring down at her, forgetting everyone and everything. And Amy studied Elizabeth in return with that strange little lonely-yet-trusting look of hers.

  Soon Gail and Mrs. Vargas came in, arms loaded.

  “My goodness!” Elizabeth said. “Gail and I discussed some of the things we might have to get for the baby. It never crossed my mind that she would already have things of her own.”

  “Let me get dinner on the table,” Gail said. She put down her load and went back into the kitchen.

  “How can you leave Amy?” Elizabeth marveled.

  Gail came back to the doorway. “It isn’t easy. But you’re the mommy, and Amy needs to get close to you. I’ll be with her all the time when you’re at work.”

  “Ugh! Don’t remind me!” Elizabeth said.

  Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Vargas. “I’ve been thinking how difficult it’ll be for me to work full-time with Amy here. How can I possibly leave her? I thought I might start working part-time. I took the job because I wanted the occupation. But now,” she said, hugging Amy, “I have a vocation.”

  Mrs. Vargas smiled at Elizabeth, as she organized Amy’s belongings. “I’m certain you’ll make the right decisions, as decisions need to be made. And I trust Gail completely.”

  “Isn’t she something?” Elizabeth said enthusiastically.

  Looking down at Amy’s beautiful, sad face, an over-powering emotion welled up in Elizabeth. There in that little face were all her hopes for the future. She wanted nothing more. She looked up at Mrs. Vargas, tears in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so happy!”

  Mrs. Vargas nodded. “I understand. Completely.”

  There was a loud knocking at the door.

  Gail came into the living room. “Expecting company?”

  “No,” Elizabeth answered, “I’m not. Could you see who it is, please?”

  Mrs. Vargas and Elizabeth were quiet while Gail answered the door.

  “Yes?” Gail said.

  There was a long pause, then Elizabeth heard Tony’s voice. “Ahm, who are you?”

  Gail answered cooly, “ I could ask as much of you, but I suspect you’re Tony.”

  Elizabeth stood and went into the foyer. “Tony! What are you doing here?”

  “I...what’s that?” he quizzed, pointing at Amy.

  “It’s a baby, Tony,” Elizabeth answered. “What are you doing here?” she repeated.

  “Why are you crying?” Tony asked back.

  “Because I’m happy. Now, it’s definitely your turn to answer a question. Why are you here?”

  Tony cast a glance at Gail, then returned his attention to Elizabeth. “When you wouldn’t go out with me tonight, I figured something was going on. So I drove by. And I saw a strange car in your driveway. So I knocked.” He glanced at Gail again. “I guess you’re just having some girl friends over. I don’t know why you couldn’t have just told me that. Unless.... “

  “Unless what?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Unless you were trying to make me jealous.”

  Gail snorted.

  Both Tony and Elizabeth looked at her.

  “Sorry,” Gail said. “Excuse me.” She let go of the door handle and re
turned to the kitchen.

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t feel like it,” Elizabeth said to Tony. “But now that you’re here, I may as well give you the whole story so you can stop teasing your mind about it. Come on in.”

  Elizabeth led Tony into the living room. “Mrs. Vargas, this is my boss, Tony Antonella. Tony, this is Mrs. Vargas, a social worker. Gail, you just met. She’s the nanny I hired to help me take care of my foster daughter, Amy.” She turned Amy’s face toward Tony. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Foster daughter? What do you mean, foster daughter?”

  “Just that.”

  “I don’t understand.” Tony’s expression was genuinely puzzled. Elizabeth had never seen him so confused.

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t comprehend, Tony.”

  Tony looked around and seemed, suddenly, to take everything in. Then he went through one of his chameleon changes. “But, Elizabeth, this is big news. This is great! I had no idea! If it’s what you want, then, wonderful. When you decide to go for something, nothing stops you, does it?”

  “I guess not,” Elizabeth said. “At least not when it come to the really big things.”

  Tony looked at Amy. “My goodness, she is a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

  “Soups on,” Gail said, bringing a soup tureen into the dining room.

  “Gail’s very literal,” Elizabeth laughed. She turned to Tony. “Would you care to join us?”

  “Oh, no. I wouldn’t think of intruding any more than I already have.” He flashed his big screen smile at all three women. “I’m just happy to see you don’t have another man, Elizabeth.” He said it in a teasing tone, but Gail and Mrs. Vargas exchanged a look that Elizabeth read as, “who does he think he’s kidding?”

  “I’ll see you to the door,” Elizabeth said, relieved that he volunteered to leave.

  “No–no, no, no. I’ll let myself out. I’ll call you sometime this week-end, if you want.”

  “All right,” Elizabeth said.

  He reached out and lightly touched her cheek. “Motherhood looks good on you.” He turned and no one moved until they heard the door close behind him.

  “Okay!” Gail said. “Let’s eat!”

  Elizabeth put Amy in the new play pen and she and Mrs. Vargas sat at the dining room table, while Gail ran back and forth between the kitchen and the table.

  “I insist you join us,” Elizabeth said, trying to sound stern.

  “I will, I will, but don’t stand on ceremony. Go ahead and start.”

  “Not without you,” Elizabeth asserted.

  “Okay, I’m here.” Gail brought in a steaming bowl of green beans and tomatoes, put it down, then put herself down as well. She started passing the food around.

  “Boy, you’re right, he’s a looker. But a little odd, huh?” Gail said casually.

  “He’s just spoiled, I think,” Elizabeth answered. “You should see the way women fawn over him. Until the last few days I was no exception. But now I have more important concerns.” Elizabeth smiled and waved at Amy.

  “I’m glad to hear that that’s the way you have your priorities ordered,” Mrs. Vargas said. “I would hate to see a glitch so soon.”

  “No glitch!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Not even an aberration. My life is very uncomplicated, Mrs. Vargas.”

  After dinner Mrs. Vargas showed Elizabeth and Gail Amy’s physical therapy routines, then the three of them went upstairs and put Amy to bed in her crib in Elizabeth’s room. It was nearly eleven when Mrs. Vargas finally gathered her belongings to leave.

  “You have my telephone numbers,” she said, “don’t hesitate to call me. Otherwise, I’ll call you in a few days.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Vargas, thank you. We’ll talk soon,” Elizabeth said.

  * *

  Elizabeth and Gail and Amy settled into a happy matriarchal routine.

  Elizabeth only worked one more week full-time, then she changed her schedule to every other week-end and the alternate Monday through Wednesday. She was surprised that Tony didn’t mind, in fact, he was altogether supportive of her new-found motherhood.

  Maybe, she thought, he’s more sensitive than he seems on the surface. And then she wondered why she thought of him as insensitive in the first place. She decided it was because of his mood swings. He could switch from one mood to another too easily, even so, his moods seemed superficial, as if he was so preoccupied with his facade that whatever might be inside had never developed.

  Elizabeth recalled a cicada she had seen a few years ago. It had just emerged from its cocoon, glistening, perched on a branch. It had stretched its raw new legs and wings as if to say, “aren’t I pretty?’’ She had chuckled at its odd anthropomorphic behavior.

  That’s how Tony seemed, as though he felt everyone should find him attractive, while not knowing himself if he was. And, although she told herself this trait should make him unattractive to her, it only endeared him. His facade was bravado, but underneath he was fragile and unsure. She had an urge to protect him.

  Chapter XIII

  Elizabeth looked up from her desk at work to see Peter jogging by the office in green and white shorts and a green T-shirt. He peered into the dark office, she waved and he turned around, came in, and jogged up to her desk. By then Elizabeth was giggling. Boy, she thought, Peter makes me feel warm inside.

  “What’ve you been doing?” They asked in tandem, then they both burst into giggles.

  “You go first,” Elizabeth said, catching her breath.

  “No, you!” Peter grabbed a chair and straddled it backwards, tipping the back until it rested against Elizabeth’s desk, balanced. “I haven’t seen you in here for so long, I thought you quit.”

  “No, but a lot’s been happening.” Elizabeth moved a stack of papers aside, the better to see Peter.

  “Don’t stop now,” Peter urged.

  “Well, the big news is that I started working part time because I became a foster parent.”

  “You’re kidding!” Peter sat his chair upright.

  Elizabeth beamed. “No, I’m not. And I have the most beautiful little girl in the world living with me. I also have a nanny, Gail.” Elizabeth almost launched into Gail’s admiration of Peter, but she decided to hold off.

  “Amazing, Elizabeth. Wow! You’re really something!” Peter tilted his chair against her desk again. Elizabeth liked that, it felt cozier. “So! When do I get to meet the ‘family’?”

  “Any time, of course. Me casa es su casa.”

  “That’s true,” Peter observed. They both laughed again.

  “Why don’t you come over for dinner Friday night? Gail and I’ll cook up a feast... we love excuses to do that.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  “By the way,” Elizabeth asked, “do you like fans?”

  “Fans?”

  “Yes. Of yours. Of your books.”

  “It sort of depends,” Peter said cautiously.

  “On?”

  “Some fans are... kind of far gone.”

  “What if they’re not far gone. What if they’re right here, intelligent, and well-read?”

  “Then they’re my favorite type of person.”

  “In that case, be prepared.” Elizabeth gave Peter a stagy cryptic look.

  “Oh-oh... what do you mean?”

  “Suspense is the better part of anticipation.” Elizabeth said, and Peter could not coerce her to say more.

  * *

  Gail and Amy were playing splashy bath when Elizabeth came home that evening. “Guess who’s coming to dinner Friday night,” Elizabeth asked, rolling up her sleeves and joining in the play.

  “Ahm, Tony,” Gail guessed. “What do you think baby?” Gail said in a squeeky-toy voice to Amy. “Is Tony coming to dinner Friday?”

  “Na-na-na!” Amy said, slapping both plump little hands down on the water.

  How is it possible that everything Amy does is unusually winsome? Elizabeth wondered while the surge of adoration wavin
g through her chest calmed.

  “Well, she’s right! It’s not Tony. It’s Peter.”

  “Peter?” Gail turned away from the bathtub and faced Elizabeth. “Here? For dinner? Just like that?”

  “Here!” Elizabeth said. “Just like that!”

  “What should I wear?” Gail asked. “Do you think I could ask him to sign one of his books for me?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Gail’s got a crush on Peter!” she said to Amy, wrapping a big fluffy towel around her. She sat on the bathroom floor beside Gail and dried Amy.

  “I do!” Gail said. “I don’t care who knows it! It’s a simple fact!”

  “Do you want me to ask him to bring a couple of his books?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I have everything he’s ever written. I’d love for him to sign my beloved and dog-eared copy of After the Year before the Millennium.”

  “If anything ever touched an authors heart,” Elizabeth observed, “I suppose showing him a copy of one of his books that’s the adult equivalent of a teddy bear would do it.”

  Elizabeth kissed Amy and fussed with her pretty black curls while Gail put her leg brace back on. Amy took the attention quietly, wearing a sober expression.

  “Now I know what ‘this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you’ really means,” Elizabeth said softly to Gail.

  Gail nodded. Then the two of them put a cute little rabbits and kittens print playsuit on Amy.

  “There’s our baby, There’s our little girl!” Gail said. “You want to play in your play pen, Pussy Willow?”

  “Pay-pay-pu,” Amy imitated.

  Elizabeth and Gail laughed, while Elizabeth picked up Amy and the three of them went downstairs.

  “I suppose I should be sort of embarrassed about how little I know of Peter as a writer,” Elizabeth said.

  “Yes you should!” Gail agreed. “But I’m glad you know Peter as a person. He has a following, and we’re always sort of surmising what he’s like. Do you want to read one of his books?”

  “Well, sure.”

  Gail started toward her room.

  “I mean, not right now, but eventually. When Amy isn’t taking so much of my attention. Anyway, wouldn’t it seem sort of funny if I just happened to read one of his books a day or two before he comes over for dinner?”