Finding Amy

by Poppen, Sharon

  “Yes, dear. What is it?” Her brow was furrowed with worry.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Good. Because we want to talk to you too.” Dad waved me into their bedroom suite. “Sit down Danny.”

  “No this will only take a minute. I want to … “

  “I said sit.” He interrupted. “I want to talk to you.”

  I looked over at Mom who nodded agreement with my father. I had no choice. I sat down on the divan. Mom sat in a lounge chair across from me. Dad stood in front of the fireplace and for the first time, I noticed he was sipping a brandy. They were in their robes, but I could tell they hadn’t been sleeping. A book on the table next to the divan was open and I now noticed a book lying on the lounge chair where Mom was seated. They had been waiting for me. I looked up at Dad.

  “What? Has something bad happened? To Phil, Pat, the kids …”

  “No, nothing like that.” Mom assured me.

  Then Dad spoke. “No, son. It’s just that we've missed your help lately out on the ranch.”

  “I know.” I smiled broadly. “I’ve been busy.”

  “So we’ve noticed.” Dad was not smiling.

  “Dad,” I looked over at my mother, “Mom, listen. I’ve got a good reason. I met a girl. No, not a girl, the girl.”

  Mom nodded. “Tom said it had something to do with a girl you met at the dance. He said she was from back east and was here visiting with Barbara Allen.”

  “Yes. Her name is Amy Harrington. She’s beautiful.”

  “So Tom said. We were hoping you might bring her by so we could meet her.” Dad spoke slowly as he took a sip of his brandy.

  “Yeah, I should have, but I wanted to spend as much time alone with her as I could. Get to know her.” My parents nodded, but I missed the concern written all over their faces and hurried on. “Now, I want to tell you all about her. I want you to know how special she is and how much she already means to me.”

  “Moving a little fast aren’t you, son?” Dad questioned.

  My face was still draped in a wide smile. “Yes. Real fast. I don’t want her to get away. In fact, tonight I asked her to marry me.” Mom gasped. I hurried on. “She said yes. And that’s what I need to talk to you about.”

  Worry etched itself into their faces as I rambled on in my excitement.

  “You see, I have to go to Boston with her so we can tell her parents. She said they probably wouldn’t be receptive because they’re some high society snobs. I’m going back there, put on all my charm and win them over.” I was grinning from ear to ear. Then, I noticed they were not smiling. In fact, Mom was visibly upset and shaking her head.

  Dad spoke first. “Son, don’t you think you’re rushing things a bit?”

  Mom found her voice. “Yes, we would like to meet the girl and get to know her. We want you to be happy, Danny, but … but … well maybe …”

  “You need to simmer down some.” Dad finished her sentence. “Take a breather. Maybe you need to let her go home by herself and let things cool down a little. Then in a few weeks, maybe a month or so, go on back there and meet her folks. See if you both still feel the same.”

  I knew he was giving me good advice, but I also knew I wasn’t going to take it. I stood up. “I know you think I’m crazy, but I know what I’m doing. “ I looked at Mom. “She is so fine. I’m sure, really sure. I don’t intend to let her out of my sight for one day, one week or one month.”

  My folks tried for the next half-hour or so to talk me into biding my time, sit back and take a breather, but I hardly listened. I knew what I wanted. Dad finally relented and agreed to give me some of the money they’d saved for me from my work as a ranch hand before I went in the Army. It was after midnight when I called the airport in Houston and made reservations for us to fly out to Boston the next afternoon.

  *****

  By three the next afternoon we were on a plane headed east. The closer we got to Boston, the more nervous Amy became. She closed her eyes, but I could tell she was only pretending to sleep. My heart went out to her. I couldn’t imagine dreading one’s parents. I didn’t always agree with my folks, but I never doubted they loved me and I knew they were always in my corner.

  The plane landed after dark on a hot, humid East Coast night. In the baggage claim area, the family chauffeur greeted her stiffly. He asked for our claim tickets, then escorted us to a silver Rolls Royce parked in the loading zone. We waited quietly in the back seat while he collected our luggage. During the ride from the airport to her home, I watched Amy draw further into herself. All attempts at conversation were met with a weak smile or nod of her head. Her small hand tightened its grip on mine as we drove through the night.

  Her parents stood waiting in the foyer of their home. Its oversize area radiated an aura of cold sterility. The domed ceiling was centered by an imposing crystal chandelier brilliantly lighting the room. It was impressive and dominating rather than beautiful due to the stark walls with no pictures or color for the crystals to absorb. I shuddered as my eyes took in the stern faces that made no attempt to welcome their daughter home.

  They were worse than I expected. Their stiffness reminded me of the pictures on the society pages of the newspaper. Her father didn’t have the rugged good looks of my Dad, but he was a nice looking man in a smooth sort of way. Her mother was a strikingly good-looking woman with the sharpest, coldest steel blue eyes I have ever seen. They held none of Amy’s warmth. They showed no emotion toward Amy or myself. I was sure that I recognized a challenge in them as she assessed me.

  Eventually, she shifted her eyes to Amy. Quite stiffly, she began. “Good evening, Amy. I’m pleased that you’ve come home.”

  “Yes, dear. We’ve missed you.” Her father was stiff, but I detected some warmth in his words.

  Amy’s smile was forced. “Yes, Mother, Father, it’s good to see you too.”

  Not a hug or kiss, Christ, what a homecoming. I wouldn’t want to come home to this either.

  Her mother returned her gaze to me. Amy seemed mute. I extended my hand to her father. “Hello sir. My name is Danny Lawrence. I’m happy to meet you.”

  The man returned my handshake, but just nodded as his wife spoke. “Mr. Lawrence, how do you do?” But it was the kind of ‘how do you do’ that required no answer. I could see why Amy was so afraid to stand up to them. It would have been like a mouse standing up to lions.

  Their home was elegant. It looked like one of those houses featured in magazines - everything in its place and everything perfect. I was shown to a guest bedroom by an elderly woman servant and told that as soon as I freshened up to come down to the dining room. Amy had been spirited to her room by her mother.

  Fifteen minutes later, I walked into a cavernous room with the warmth of a funeral parlor to find the Harringtons. Her father sat at the head of a massive table; his wife was to his right and Amy to his left.

  “Please be seated Mr. Lawrence.” Her mother nodded to the table setting next to Amy.

  As I took my chair, I smiled. “Please, call me Dan.”

  At that point, a servant placed a bowl of a thin brown liquid in front of me. Their servants were like automated robots. We had a housekeeper and her husband was a terrific cook, but they were like family. These servers were almost invisible. The Harringtons seldom acknowledged them. Hell, they hardly acknowledged me.

  The dinner was perfect: soup, spinach salad, asparagus, skinless chicken, and fruit sorbet. A little bland for me, but perfect nevertheless. It was a quiet dinner. Her mother updated Amy on the happenings of the people in their social circle. Her father never said a word. As we finished our sorbet, an uneasy silence set in. We were all apparently uncomfortable anyway so I thought, well buddy, it may as well start now. I reached over, took Amy’s hand and placed it under mine in full between our plates. I saw her mother’s eyes widen ever so slightly as I began.

  “Mr. Harrington, I came home with Amy to ask you and your wife a very important question. I am asking for yo
ur daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  “I see.” Her mother stood up. “Well, perhaps we should adjourn to the den to discuss this further.” Ignoring me, she turned to her daughter, “Amy?”

  Amy and her father followed her mother from the dining room. I kept hold of Amy’s hand and followed. The den was a warm room with books covering three of the walls while the fourth was a highly polished, heavy wood of some kind. There was a desk and several sofas. Several oriental rugs augmented the wall-to-wall carpeting. There was a bar cut into the shelving on one wall.

  Her father walked to the bar while Mrs. Harrington sat on a sofa. Amy pulled me to the one across from her mother.

  “Roger, I’ll take a sherry and Amy will have a Perrier.” She focused her steel eyes on me. “And you, Mr. Lawrence?”

  I had the strongest urge to say make it a beer. “I’ll have a Perrier also, thank you.”

  Once the drinks had been poured and distributed, Mr. Harrington went to stand by the window. Again I was the object of the steel eyes.

  “Now. Let’s discuss your proposal.” Her eyes moved to Amy. “What do you have to say about all this, young lady?”

  Amy looked so bewildered and intimidated that I answered for her. “Amy loves me and wants to marry me.”

  “Mr. Lawrence, my daughter has a voice of her own. I directed the question to her and meant for her to answer it herself.” The woman’s eyes bore into Amy almost cruelly with a hint of mockery. “Amy, do you want to marry this boy?”

  I squeezed her hand. It was limp and gave no response, but she began to speak. “Mother, I … I … yes, I think I do”

  “Amy darling, you are stuttering. Is that a sign that you are unsure?”

  Again I squeezed her hand. This time she gently responded with a timid squeeze and her voice was stronger.

  “Yes, mother. I’m sure I want to marry Danny.” She had said it! I was so proud of her I wanted to pull her into my arms right then and there.

  Her mother recoiled, but quickly rebounded with that steely-eyed glare. Her father’s expression was bland and he uttered not a word. Evidently Mrs. Harrington was going to handle the matter. It should have been a warning, but I was too much in love to think about how that might impact my future. From that point on, the conversation went from bad to worse and before the discussion was over her mother and I had gotten pretty hostile. Her father never said a word. Neither did Amy.

  Finally, her mother relented. “Very well, Amy. We will let you marry this boy, but I’m very sorry that you didn’t listen to me. You are making a bad mistake and will regret it for the rest of your life.”

  At that moment, her father made his only comment on the matter. He turned to his wife. “Vanessa, why don’t you leave them alone? Maybe things will work out better for them than they did for us.”

  His words earned him a frosty stare from his wife. He sighed, walked to the bar, poured himself a drink and wordlessly left the room.

  Mrs. Harrington, Amy and I settled on a wedding date and made some sketchy plans. The old girl was formidable. She had an opinion on everything. It was apparent; she would run the wedding. Eventually, she excused herself saying she needed to retire to her office to work out a definite schedule.

  I asked Amy if she would like to go out for a breath of fresh air. She said she was exhausted and would like to go to bed. I walked her to her room and kissed her ever so lightly before she slipped away and closed her door. I walked down to my room, kicked off my shoes and flopped down on the bed. I crossed my hands behind my head and attempted to sort things out. It was a damn good think I had gone home with her. She would never have made it alone.

  Her mother was a real piece of work. And her father was … was … What the hell was he? No cojones, that’s for sure. Well, the sooner I got Amy away from here the better. I had told her mother that we wanted to be married within the month and I stood firm on that issue. I wanted to get her out to Texas and away from these strange people as soon as possible. I fell off to sleep thinking how happy I was going to make Amy.

  *****

  The next morning didn’t improve my relationship with her mother. By the time I came down for breakfast, she had already been on the phone making all sorts of plans. Amy had been hustled off to a bridal shop. I could see it was going to be a big wedding. I didn’t care as long as it made Amy happy. But, for the next month, I didn’t see enough of her to know if she was happy or not. Her mother had her doing something every breathing moment of the day and night.

  When I complained, Mrs. Harrington crisply told me, “I asked for more time, but you were the one who insisted it had to happen within one month. We are having to rush on your behalf. You’ll just have to be patient.”

  I did get angry once. It was a little more than a week before the wedding and I had been in the den watching the Red Sox losing to the Texas Rangers when I heard Amy’s voice in the foyer. She and her mother had been out all afternoon. I wandered out to greet her.

  “Amy, I hope you listened carefully to what the doctor said and take those pills religiously.”

  “What pills?” I asked.

  Amy’s glance in my direction was furtive. She looked back at her mother, then me again, but she didn’t answer my question.

  I stared back and forth between the women. “What pills? Amy is anything wrong? Are you okay?” I hurried to her side and slid my arm around her shoulder. She stiffened, but stayed in my embrace. “What, honey?”

  She swallowed and looked to her mother. The old bat was laying her hat and gloves on a table; she turned her icy eyes on me. “We got Amy some birth control pills today.”

  “Birth control? Whatever for?”

  “I believe the answer to that is obvious.”

  “Not to me it isn’t.” I looked down at Amy. “Honey, don’t you want children?” I was almost afraid to hear her answer. “My children, our children?”

  “Of course, Danny. But, mother says we should wait awhile. Not to rush into things. She knows a lot more about having babies and feels …”

  “I feel Amy needs to be a little older before she decides to endure the pain and distress of bearing a child.”

  “With all due respect, Mrs. Harrington,” I pulled Amy closer, “this is a personal matter between a husband and wife. I don’t want Amy to prevent children. That’s one reason for getting married. I want us to have a family.”

  “I happen to know a great deal more about child bearing than either of you and I don’t intend to have my daughter suffer like I did. It will be a big adjustment for her to be with a man, let alone throw a baby into the mix.”

  “Mrs. Harrington, children are wonderful. You should see my brother Phil and his wife Pat with their two boys. Amy and I will work this out, right honey?” I pulled her chin up to look into her eyes.

  “Mother only means to help. Let’s don’t argue, Danny. Can’t we talk about it later?” Her eyes pleaded with me to drop the subject. I reluctantly nodded as she went on. “Right now, I’m exhausted. I need to rest.” She slipped out of my embrace and started up the stairs. “I’ll see you both at dinner.”

  Her mother and I watched her until she was out of sight, then faced each other.

  “See, you’ve upset her. When will you learn that she is delicate?” She didn’t wait for my answer, but turned and headed for the kitchen area to check on dinner.

  I ran my fingers through my hair. I headed out the front door, badly in need of some fresh air.

  *****

  The only wedding planning I did was to call my folks and make arrangements for them to come to Boston. As it turned out, Phil and Pat were between kids and said they wouldn’t miss my wedding for the world. Tom was a lifesaver. He arrived a week before the wedding and we took a room at a local hotel. I wasn’t seeing much of Amy anyway, and I needed to get away from her mother.

  When my folks arrived two days before the wedding, Amy had been reluctant to go with me to the airport to meet them. She was nervous as a cat treed b
y a coyote as we stood waiting at the arrival gate. I held her close and assured her that she would love them as they would her. My folks were great. Mom and Pat raved about her beauty and how glad they were to be getting another Lawrence woman in the family. Pat said she and mom always got outvoted because it was four Lawrence men to only two women when the men wanted to go fishing or hunting. She was laughing though, as she and Phil cuddled and enjoyed their mini holiday away from the kids. We got the folks settled at the hotel and dined with them before I took Amy back to her house.

  When we were alone in the taxi, I hugged her close and asked why she was so tense. To my surprise and delight, she cuddled into my arms like when we were in Texas.

  “Nothing. I guess I’m just tired.”

  I smiled. “Only two more days. Then we can relax and enjoy each other.” I kissed her and was again surprise at her response. Her kiss was desperate as she clung to me. I enjoyed it and let her release her pent-up tension. By the time we got to the Harrington home, Amy was the calmist I’d seen her since arriving in Boston a month ago. She was warm and responsive as we kissed and hugged at her front door.

  “I love you Amy.”

  She smiled. “I’m so glad you do.” She uncharacteristically stroked my cheek and chin, lightly kissed my lips and slipped into the house.

  My dreams that night were the sweetest since we met. I was now more certain than ever that we belonged together and everything would be fine.

  *****

  The Harringtons hosted an elaborate rehearsal dinner and everything went off without a hitch. My folks were great through the whole thing. My dad did corner me once and asked if I was happy. I told him yes or rather I would be as soon as the wedding was over and I had Amy back home in Texas.

  The next day, as I stood at the altar waiting for Amy, I scanned the crowded pews. We had a lot of friends back in Texas, but they didn’t come to a drop in the bucket compared to the size of this gathering. Apparently, the entire city of Boston, at least the elite portion of it, had shown up. I glanced to my right at the maid of honor and bridesmaids, all eight of them. To my left were the ushers and I smiled at the only one I knew, my best man, my brother Tom. He gave me a quick wink of encouragement. The majority of the attendants represented another generation of Bostonians with social prominence. Amy said that she had attended boarding school with most of the girls, but they weren’t really friends.