The Auction a Romance by Anna Erishkigal

by Anna Erishkigal

  Adam's mouth thinned into a tight line.

  "No. But Maynor Jackson does."

  "What did they say about me?" I chewed my lip.

  "It appears Gregory didn't have a whole lot of dirt on you," Adam said, "so he sic'd them on your mother."

  That same sense of vertigo I'd felt last night made the room seem very far away. My mother. I sat down in the red vinyl kitchen chair. Didn't have a lot of dirt on me? There were some things in my past I'd kept secret even from Gregory, but my mother could cause me a lot of grief.

  "What did she tell them?" I whispered.

  Adam's expression softened.

  "It appears she didn't tell them a thing," Adam said. "The newspaper only quotes your ex-fiancé, not her. He told them about your parent's divorce and the fact your mother lost her home to foreclosure."

  "I'm sorry," was all I could say. "But she deserved it. Really."

  Adam flattened out the newspaper. In big block letters the front page spelled out:

  --Banging the Boss: Jackson Oil Heiress's Husband Having an Affair with Daughter's Teacher--

  In full colored print was a picture of Adam poised to kiss me. Even in the photograph, our kiss remained unconsummated. Adam touched the picture, his expression wistful.

  "This is what you were afraid of all along, isn't it?" I asked.

  "Yes," Adam said. "The one thing Eva has always trusted is my word. When I told her I was proceeding with the divorce, I promised her our relationship was purely platonic, and now…" He trailed off.

  And now … she will do what all jealous women do and make the demise of their relationship about blaming The Other Woman…

  I sat down and read the story, squirming as it talked about my mother's attempts at climbing the social ladder, just how far into debt she'd gone to give herself the appearance of respectability, the fact she'd had me declared a juvenile delinquent after I'd gotten into trouble and kept running away, that I'd only been a marginal student, and that, before I'd ended up on Adam Bristow's doorstep, I'd been a homeless loser without a job. The newspaper article made me sound like a flaky gold-digger, and it painted every hurtful item Gregory knew about my past in the most horrific light.

  Thank God you never told Gregory -everything-.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks. Adam moved to hug me, but I pushed him away.

  "What kinds of problems will this cause for you and Pippa?"

  "In court?" Adam grimaced. "Not a whole heck of a lot as far as an adultery allegation is concerned. We've been separated for almost a year, and Eva has had several high-profile flings." His expression grew more somber. "Out of court, however, is a different story. Eva, I expect, will now be on the war-path."

  More so than she was already?

  "But it's her father who promoted this story," I said. "Why? Why does he hate you so much? You won't even talk bad about Eva. Even when she deserves it!"

  Adam sat down. He took my hand, and this time I didn't pull away.

  "Please, Rosie. Don't ask me to be anything less than who I am. I am not your Gregory. I won't speak ill of Eva any more than I would ever speak badly about you."

  Darned strong, silent types….

  "Is there anything I can do to help you fix this?"

  Adam turned my hand over and touched my wrist, sending a pleasant shiver up my arm. He slid his long fingers over the black leather laces as if to make sure they were still tightly knotted.

  "This is my mess to clean up, Rosie. Not yours. I'm just sorry my lack of restraint dragged you into the fire."

  He rose from his chair like a stalking panther, his expression determined, and disappeared outside the front door. A short time later, I heard the tractor start up in the barn. By the time Pippa came out, dressed in her purple princess party dress, Adam began mowing down the tall grass all around the fences.

  "What's Daddy doing?" Pippa asked.

  "Eliminating snakes."

  The tractor went around and around the house as I French-braided Pippa's hair until gradually the sound grew more distant. Until his divorce trial, he had no power to exorcise the viper he'd married, so the best he could do was discourage the brown snakes from taking up residence near his home.

  I realized Pippa had been chattering away, and I, woeful creature, had been giving the poor kid the parental uh-huh. I forced myself to pay attention.

  "What was that, nipper?"

  "Why'd you take my boots out of the bag? Mommy said to bring them."

  "They're too small, sweetheart. I packed your school shoes."

  "But my school shoes look silly with my jodhpurs!"

  "Why? Are you going riding again this weekend?"

  Pippa clammed up and stared out the front picture window. She'd been somewhat evasive ever since she'd returned Sunday night, but she'd been not-so-subtly dropping hints about her expected Christmas present.

  "Pippa? Is there a reason you need to bring your riding boots with you?"

  "Mommy said I shouldn't tell."

  I didn't need that Gitano sense of knowing to tell me that Pippa's mother had done a lot more than take her riding.

  "Did you look at horses for sale last weekend, nipper?"

  Pippa stared down at her hands.

  "Yes."

  That uneasy feeling settled into my gut. So. My worst fear was real. I forced my voice to sound nonchalant.

  "That's nice, sweetheart. It's good to look at different horses to help you figure out what kind of horse you'd like to buy. Did any of them catch your eye?"

  Pippa's wary expression disappeared. Her eyes glowed dreamily like happy silver stars.

  "He's the most beautiful horse I've ever seen! He's a purebred Hanoverian like Sarah Colbert has, only he's blood bay red. His name is Flying Dutchman, and he won the Interschool championship two years in a row!"

  Bloody hell! That's a $28,000 horse! I forced myself to play along.

  "Is he a show jumper or dressage?"

  "He won for dressage," Pippa said. "But the lady who owns the stable said he's also good on pole jumps. She said it's all just a matter of training."

  "Not just training, nipper," I said. "The horse has to have some natural aptitude. But … yes … with good training any sound horse can learn to compete. Even a horse you buy at auction."

  "Mommy said breeding is everything."

  Pippa's nose turned in the air in a gesture that reminded me so much of her mother it was all I could do not to reach out and tweak the end of her nose to tug it back down. I suppressed my irritation and forced my voice to remain even.

  "And what does your mother know about horses?"

  "It doesn't matter what she knows. Grandpa said he'd hire the best trainer money could buy."

  So? It's already gone way beyond merely looking at horses. I suppressed my anger that not only was Eva Jackson playing the horse card, but she was filling Pippa's head with arrogant nonsense. The former, I could forgive, but the latter … it curled my toes to think that someday Pippa might turn into a carbon copy of her selfish mother.

  "For your very first horse," I said, "all you need is to love him dearly. If he knows you love him, he will work his heart out to help you win."

  "Mommy said I deserve better than some broken-down old horse that nobody wants." Pippa's mouth pursed into a petulant pout. "She thinks Daddy is mean, making me work to buy a horse with my own money!"

  I resisted the urge to say something sarcastic. To do so would feed into Eva's game. So? Pippa would wake up tomorrow morning to find a ribbon leading from the Christmas tree to her grandfather's back yard, where a trainer would stand holding Flying Dutchman's bridle, all saddled up so Pippa could ride him. When she got back here, she would pine away for her horse, and Eva would try to use that emotion to either lure Adam back, or drive a wedge between him and Pippa. It was what I'd been expecting, and it was a game I understood, for my own mother knew I would choose to live wherever my horse did.

  Only Adam and his daughter shared a special bond…
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br />   "Excuse me, sweetheart," I said. "I think it's time to call your father in for lunch."

  Pippa stared anxiously at the clock.

  "But Frederick should be here at any moment."

  "Then if need be, I'll pack your sandwich in a lunchbox, along with one for Frederick so he doesn't get hungry. He seems nice. Has he been your Mommy's driver for a long time?"

  "Oh, no," Pippa said. "Frederick doesn't work for Mommy. He's Grandpa Jackson's driver. Grandpa just loans him to her so she doesn't have to drive all the way out here."

  Pippa helped me make cucumber sandwiches, layered with goat cheese and lots of dill, and used a cookie cutter to cut them into hearts while I lay out three dishes along with a glass of milk. I then went out to the barn to fetch Adam, who now lay, splattered with grass clippings, upon the ground, brushing the mower attachment with a long, wire brush while he sprayed the undercarriage with WD-40.

  "Get in there and spend some time with your daughter!"

  Adam looked up, his expression surprised.

  "I, uh…"

  "Are angry about the newspaper, so you went out and took it out on the grass instead of snapping at me," I said. "But Eva's driver is due any moment, and then you won't see Pippa for the next five days."

  Adam glanced at his watch.

  "Oh, shoot! I'm sorry Rosie. I lost track of time!"

  He left the mower in pieces and hurried into the house to wash. This was the first time I'd ever seen Adam retreat so far into himself that he'd lost track of what Pippa was up to. It was, I suspected, a defense mechanism so he wouldn't snap at her. But with games in the works, Adam couldn't afford to lose these last few minutes to bond with his only child.

  I faded into the background as Adam drew Pippa out with talk of what Christmas would be like at her Grandpa Jacksons. They spoke of Midnight Mass, and Christmas morning, and her grandfather's favorite servants, and what they would eat for Christmas dinner. And then they talked about some family traditions, the best presents they'd ever given one another, and the grand Boxing Day party that would be held on December 26th where all the important people in Australia would be invited to mingle. By the end of the conversation -I- was envious of Pippa's upcoming Christmas weekend, and I began to see why Eva's offer of reconciliation had almost tempted Adam enough to return. But at no point did Pippa mention her soon-to-be horse to her father.

  Noontime came and went, and then the clock edged closer to one o'clock. Pippa rose and moved to stand by the front picture window. The colorful lights from the Christmas tree reflected off the sheen of her violet silk dress, making it appear almost navy blue.

  "Frederick is late," Pippa said. "Do you think he got hung up in traffic?"

  "Mommy is always late," Adam said. "Maybe Frederick had to drop her off at Grandpa's, and then she made Frederick late as well?"

  Our eyes met across the table, and the look which passed between us didn't need to be spoken. Oh, dear lord, please don't let Eva come -here- to make a scene…

  I waved off Adam when he tried to help me clear the table, and then cleaned up the dishes while Adam and Pippa sat in the front room. With every passing minute, the tension began to rise, until Pippa fidgeted nervously and Adam's shoulders grew tighter and tighter. After a while he pulled out the Scrabble board and distracted Pippa from the window by pretending to cheat at the game with funny, made-up words. I joined them once I finished cleaning up, trying to participate, and yet stay out of their way. Two o'clock came and Pippa said she didn't want to play anymore. She took up sentry standing by the front window, a tall, slender girl whose stiff posture betrayed her inner turmoil.

  Adam's mouth tightened into a grim line. By an almost unspoken agreement, he got up and disappeared into his bedroom where he had an extension of the land line. A short time later he came back out and shook his head.

  'Traffic?' I mouthed the words.

  Adam held his thumb and index finger up to his ear to signal a telephone.

  'No answer,' he mouthed in return.

  He and I pulled out a game of Clue and tried to get Pippa to re-engage in the game. When we finally did lure her away from the window, there was a forced cheerfulness to the way we played, kind of like one of those kindergarten television shows where the actors speak overly enthusiastically to make up for the lack of personal contact.

  My heart broke as I watched Pippa become more and more anxious, while Adam, in turn, grew tense and silent. The 'hurt Adam by hurting Pippa' game was one Eva played exceedingly well, the kind of manipulation she'd pulled the first time she'd come here, only Adam hadn't been here to suffer the consequences.

  Only Pippa. And me…

  Every fifteen minutes, Adam disappeared back into his bedroom, and then he came back out again, looking grimmer, and angrier, than he ever had before.

  'No answer.'

  We went back to playing our game.

  Three-thirty came, and then four-o'clock. This was even later than the last time Eva arrived when she'd thought she had Adam dancing on a string.

  "Grandpa's sister should just be arriving at his house," Pippa's eyes glistened silver with tears, "with my second-cousins and their kids. They're about my age."

  Thunderlane whined and climbed up onto the couch to lick her face. Adam did not tell the dog to get down. He rose from his chair, no longer the passive doormat he worked so very hard to pretend to be, but that darker creature he'd inherited from his father, that side of himself he tried so very hard to deny.

  "That's it!"

  He didn't go to his bedroom this time, but picked up the phone in the living room and dialed a long string of numbers. He clenched his fist as the phone rang, and then he snapped angrily into the phone.

  "Put Maynor on the phone." He listened. "I don't give a bloody damn what he's doing right now, you tell him to get his arse on the phone or I'll march right down to Abigail McKenna's cattle station and tell her exactly what geological reports to subpoena to get the judge to lift my gag order!"

  Pippa sank into my arms and buried her face into my neck, weeping. I knew Pippa had seen this side of her father at least once, at her grandmother's funeral.

  There was a long silence while Adam paced. Then he stiffened.

  "What in hell do you think you're pulling?"

  Adam turned to face the opposite wall, but not before I saw that same dark fury I'd seen when he'd picked Gregory Schluter up like a rag doll after he'd pushed me to the floor.

  "My fault? What do you mean, it's my fault? I filed for divorce and we've been separated for almost a year! What were you doing, bailing the kid out of jail? He assaulted her!"

  He pulled the ancient orange telephone cord which tethered him to the land line so angrily I feared he might rip it right out of the wall.

  "I don't care that it's my weekend to have her. You guys insisted you wanted her there for Christmas and I agreed. And more importantly, you told her that, and then nobody bothered to call and tell her otherwise. She's been standing by the window for the last four hours, crying her heart out because Eva couldn't be bothered to send the car!"

  Adam's eyes glowed that same, almost supernatural aquamarine that his dead father possessed both times I'd met him in the dream world. An icy chill tingled right down to my bones as I saw Adam's true self, the part of himself he'd spent his entire life suppressing. His voice rumbled deep in his chest like an angry lion.

  "You want war? I'll give it to you."

  He slammed the phone down so hard the 'ding' rang throughout the house. Pippa burst into tears. Thunderlane ran into the kitchen and hid beneath the kitchen table.

  "She's not coming, is she?" I asked.

  "No!" Adam stormed out of the house and slammed the door. Through the open window, I heard a blood curdling war cry, bitter and primal and oh-so-very enraged. A few minutes later I heard the sound of metal pounding against wood. A sledgehammer? Or maybe an axe? It went on and on from somewhere behind the barn, until I began to wonder how Adam didn't collapse from exha
ustion. How much pent-up anger did he keep buried beneath the calm exterior he so carefully nurtured?

  I held Pippa as she sobbed all over her pretty purple party dress.

  "M-m-mommy p-p-promised she'd give me a horse for Christmas," Pippa wailed. "She promised! She promised she'd buy me Flying Dutchman!"

  "It's okay, sweetheart," I whispered. "I know you're disappointed. But you've saved up some money to buy a horse yourself. It won't be Flying Dutchman. But it will be a nice horse, just like Emily has."

  "But that's six months away! The fairy queen promised I'd get my dream-horse!"

  Thunderlane whined and licked her face, trying to cheer her up with doggie kisses, but Pippa was inconsolable. She needed her father, but I knew better than to go after him until after he calmed down. Remorse and shame twisted in my stomach. -I- had caused this by calling attention to myself at the charity ball!

  "I'm so sorry." I hugged my poor, broken-hearted little charge. "This is my fault. Your mother didn't come because she's angry at me."

  Pippa's weeping grew more and more incoherent, until she repeated the same thing over and over again.

  "The Fairy Queen isn't real. The Fairy Queen isn't real. She broke her promise she broke her promise she broke her promise. The Fairy Queen doesn't love me anymore…"

  I held her until her sobbing subsided into hiccoughs, and then I got her changed out of her party dress into her favorite My Little Pony pajamas. She appeared disoriented, the same way she had that night I'd surprised her while she'd been sleepwalking, and after a while I began to wonder if this was the reason Pippa took those little yellow pills.

  The screen door opened and Adam stalked in. This was not the gentle man who'd cooked me an omelet for breakfast, but that coarse, wild echo of his dead-heart raised father, a hard man, a bitter man, a man who would fight to the death rather than let his enemies win. His eyes glowed almost green, his features chiseled, his mouth a grim slash, and his shoulders so tight and broad it was a wonder he even fit inside the house. It felt like staring down The Punisher and Batman and Judge Dredd at once. After wishing all this time that Adam would be more aggressive, I now wished fervently he'd go back to being the way he'd been before.