by Nancy Adams
“You can pet him if you like?” the woman offered in a sweet voice.
Jess smiled at the old lady before reaching down and running her hand through the puppy’s fur. The animal immediately threw itself down on its back, offering up its soft, pink belly, and Jess continued to stroke the happy dog.
“What’s your name, honey?” the woman asked.
“Abigail,” she lied, not even looking up from the dog.
“Well, my name’s Gloria, and this here is Poppy.”
“Hello, Poppy,” Jess said down to the dog as she rubbed its fur.
“You out here on your own, Abigail?”
“No, I’m going to see someone.”
“Then you are out here on your own.”
“Well, I’m on my own at the moment. But my friend only lives in one of those houses behind us.”
“Your parents don’t mind you visiting your friends all on your own?”
“No. They don’t really care what I do.”
“Now, that’s not fair. You don’t look underprivileged if you ask me. It looks like someone’s taken real good care of you. I mean, that little cardigan you have on, it’s a real Dior isn’t it?”
Jess looked up from the dog and smiled.
“Yes,” she said. “But that’s not really what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean?”
“I meant that my parents—well, parent—doesn’t really care what I do.”
“I bet they do. A sweet little girl like you.”
This made Jess blush and she sat grinning at the jolly old woman for a moment, her hand still playing with the puppy, which was now nibbling her wrist as teething puppies do.
“I guess what I mean to say is that my dad lets me do what I want to.”
“Is he gonna pick you up later from your friend’s?”
“Yeah.”
“And it was him that dropped you here?”
“Yeah.”
“So it wasn’t you I see from the window of my house walking up here along the promenade about a half-hour ago on your own to sit on this bench?”
Jess went white as a sheet and her hand froze over the dog. She slowly looked up and saw that the woman was giving her a serious look.
“You know,” Gloria began slowly, “I can see almost all the way up the promenade from my window and I see you walking from way back. I been watching you, Abigail, and I ain’t seen any parents with you that whole time.”
Jess immediately got up from the bench and went to leave.
“I just remembered,” she said in a panic, “I’ve gotta go see my friend now.”
“Honey,” Gloria said, trying to raise her old frame from the bench, using her cane as support, “it’s okay. You just come back to my place and we’ll call someone for you. If you are telling the truth and your parents tell me it, I’ll walk you to your friend’s myself.”
“No, I gotta go,” Jess said, turning to leave. “Goodbye, Gloria,” she added as she left in a hurry. “Goodbye, Poppy.”
“Honey, wait,” the old lady called out after her, before fetching her cell phone out of her pocket and dialing 911.
Jess marched along the promenade, not daring to look back, scared that the old woman would fetch someone more able bodied after her. She stomped along with her hands thrust in her pockets until she found the pathway leading away from the beach and dived into it. Once she was off of the walkway, Jess began to run, fearing that someone could be following her. When she exited the pathway and emerged into a suburban street, she continued running until she was at least a block away. Then she stopped and caught her breath for a minute or two.
Having gathered her breath, she took a small slip of paper from the pocket of her jeans and looked at the address she’d written on it earlier. She glanced over at the street sign that was on the corner of the next road and saw that she was close to where she wanted to be. She’d spent that last half an hour on the bench gearing herself up to go to the house. Gloria’s sudden appearance had forced her to act.
With her head down, Jess continued along several streets until she reached the beach house apartment that she was looking for. Feeling a slight knot in her stomach, she marched up to the door and rang the bell. Inside, she heard the voices of several people and waited as one of them came to the door.
The woman who answered it had short brunette hair and was in her forties. She wore a pair of smart Gucci glasses over her intelligent eyes and was neatly dressed in fashionable clothing.
“Hello?” the woman exclaimed softly when she answered, immediately giving Jess an odd look.
“Hi. Can I speak to Jenna?”
“Of course, dear. Come in.”
Donna held the door open and Jess stepped inside. Donna went off into another room to fetch Jenna and Jess remained standing there, the knot in her stomach twisting up even more with each passing second. While she stood there she heard voices in the next room, one of which was Jenna’s. A moment or so later, Jenna came through the door with a slightly bemused expression. The moment her gaze reached the forlorn figure of Jess, her face softened into one of benevolence.
“Jess,” she said softly, “you’ve got everyone really worried.”
“I don’t care,” Jess replied, tears welling in her eyes and her voice breaking. “I can’t live with him anymore. He wants me to go live in New York with him and this woman. I can’t, Jenna.”
“Well, what are you going to do?”
Jess threw herself forward into Jenna, throwing her arms around the surprised woman’s waist, and cried out, “I want to come and live with you.”
“Oh, Jess,” Jenna replied softly, delicately placing her arms around the sobbing little girl.
The two stayed like that for a moment and Donna popped her head through the door behind them.
“Is everything okay, Jenna?” she asked with a curious look.
“It’s okay, D. I just need some time alone with Jess. We’ll go sit out in the garden and have a talk.”
“Okay,” Donna replied, before taking a look at Jess and adding, “Is she hungry or does she want a drink?”
Jenna looked down at Jess and asked her if she did. Shining her glistening little eyes up at Jenna, she asked politely for a drink of juice, but declined the offer of food. While Donna fetched the juice, Jenna offered the tearful girl a tissue, which Jess took, before taking her through the apartment to the backdoor and outside into the garden. There they sat on the warm grass beneath an apple tree, spending several moments in silence before Donna brought Jess some juice, which the girl took and thanked her for.
Once her friend was gone, Jenna turned to Jess and asked, “How did you get here?”
“I walked.”
“You walked!?”
“Yes,” Jess said smiling.
“Wow! Even I’m too afraid to walk those streets—even in broad daylight!” Then, nodding toward Jess’s rucksack, she added, “Is that all you’ve brought?”
“Yes. Just my wash things and two sets of clothes.”
“And you want to come and live with me?”
“Yes. I’ve got it all worked out. I read once about a young boy who emancipated himself from his parents. He went to court and…”
“Jess,” Jenna interrupted, “this is silly. You don’t want to do that. And I don't think that anyone’s going to let you stay with me. It’s not as easy as simply moving in with me and then going from there. You’re a ten-year-old girl. The moment anyone found out that you were with me, the police would come and take you back to your father.”
“Then we don’t tell anyone.”
Jenna gave Jess an incredulous look.
“Jess, I hate to break this to you, but that would amount to me kidnapping you.”
“No, it won’t.”
“Really!? You go missing and everyone’s looking for you and all the time you’re with me. I’m sure someone will eventually notice and then I’ll be all over the press. And what about school? Or were you just hoping tha
t you’d do without your education and merely find work later on as a waitress.”
“But can’t I stay with you for a while?”
“Jess, we have to take you back.”
“No,” the girl said sharply, standing up.
Jenna slowly stood up and placed her hand on Jess’s shoulder.
“At this very moment,” Jenna began solemnly, “your father is worried sick.”
“No he’s not.”
“I’m afraid he is. I know it would suit your anger if he wasn’t, but he is. I’ve already had Maud on the phone earlier on and she told me that Sam was on his way back from New York. He’s probably already at the mansion by now.”
“I don’t want to go back,” Jess snapped, frustrated, her face creasing into tears.
“You have to. Your father loves you more than anything else in the world. At this moment, he’ll be really upset, Jess.”
“I hope so. I hope he gets to feel as bad as he’s made me feel.”
“You’re just upset because he’s let you down.”
“He cheated on my mother, Jenna. And then he cheated on you.”
“I can’t make up excuses for your father, but I can tell you that you’re too young to really understand the reasoning of adults. We do things that don’t make sense, things that appear cruel, but for which we have our own reasons.”
“What reason did Dad have to do this?”
“He claims he’s in love with Claire. He says he always was.”
“Then why did he get with you?”
Jenna shuddered slightly and she had to force herself not to cry as she gazed down at the little girl with the forlorn face.
“I guess he loved me once. Or was at least fond enough to keep me around. Maybe I simply took his mind off of her. I don’t know,” she added, wiping a tear from her eye. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”
Both of them looked so sad to the other in that moment that they embraced and fell into light sobbing.
Once they were finished, they sat back down beneath the tree, where Jess leaned herself into Jenna’s side, and the two remained silent for a moment, gazing out at the garden.
“How did you find this place anyway?” Jenna asked when she was feeling a little better.
“I remember you always used to come out here to Malibu to see your friend Donna who was also a psychiatrist. I looked up female psychiatrists in Malibu with the first name Donna and found her address.”
“But how did you guess that I’d be here?”
“Because I overheard Karl talking on the phone with you yesterday about having your mail redirected there. I couldn’t ask him directly for the address, because it could’ve tipped him off when I eventually ran away. So I had to do some detective work.”
Jenna grinned and remarked, “You crafty girl.”
They sat quietly for a moment more, until Jenna added, “You do know that in a week or two you’ll forgive your father for everything.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him.”
“You have to, Jess. Like I told you on the phone the other night, your father didn’t mean to hurt you. He didn’t mean to hurt your mother either. And I’m sure that in truth he didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“He did though, didn’t he? Hurt you.”
Jenna sighed loudly, a shudder of emotion going through her.
“Yes, he has. I’ve given a lot to your father and he’s thrown it all away. What I thought was real turned out to be a dream. Oh, Jess, I shouldn’t tell you all this. You’re too young.”
“I may be ten, but I’ve been through a lot.”
Jenna kissed her on the crown of her head.
“Yes, you have, sweetie.”
Once again the pair drifted into silence and sat gazing blankly at the garden.
“You know you really have to forgive your dad and go home.”
“I know,” Jess replied softly from beside her.
“Then why run away if you knew that?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t face seeing him again. The only person I knew that didn’t make me angry was you and Maud. But I couldn’t speak to her. So I decided to go to you.”
“Oh, Jess. You’re just really hurt by your dad at the moment, but you have to let him make it up with you. And I’m sure he will. He loves you, Jess.”
“But what about this Claire woman? Do I have to accept her?”
“I’m afraid you do. If your father wishes her to be a part of his life, you must accept that. You finally learned to accept me after a very long time. And although it took me saving your life, we worked things out. Let’s hope this Claire doesn’t have to do anything so drastic.”
“I feel so awful for how I treated you back then.”
“It’s okay, Jess. It’s all water under the bridge.”
“I’m so sorry for it. It’s like I told you before, I was hurt when Daddy got with you so early after Mommy. Then after that, when I did feel okay about it, I kinda disliked you because it was all I knew. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“It had become a habit for you and you found it harder to stop being spiteful toward me than it was to continue. I guess we both ended up caught in a loop of behavior toward each other.”
“Yes, that’s it. I think, anyway.”
“Look, my advice to you—if you even want it—is to go home, be with your father and continue being a family.”
“What about New York?”
“You want my honest opinion?”
“Of course.”
“Well then, I say: New York is an amazing city and in about two months of living there, you’ll wonder how you ever survived in L.A. Trust me, Jess, it has so many museums and art galleries. It’s an incredible place.”
“Yes, but all my friends are out here,” the girl complained.
“I’m afraid that can’t be helped. And I’m sure your father could always bring them out to you in New York. I’m sure they’d jump at the chance to be shown around the Big Apple. You’ll be able to personally show them around your new neighborhood.”
“Yeah,” Jess let out with a little grin.
“It may seem like it’s all gone wrong now, but in a month or two you’ll be okay once again. You’ll be finishing school for the year and I’m sure your father will let you stay out here for one more summer with your L.A. friends.”
“I guess.”
At that moment, the French doors of the apartment opened and Donna stepped out.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said softly to Jenna, flashing a smile at Jess as she did. “But how long do you think you’ll be? It’s just…well, you know.”
“I won’t be much longer,” Jenna replied, before glancing at Jess and adding to the girl, “Look, I think I should call your dad.”
“No.”
“But you have too go back.”
“Can you take me back?”
Jenna glanced over at Donna for a moment, who wore a slightly bewildered look.
Jenna turned back to Jess and asked, “Can you give me a minute to speak with someone and then I’ll drive you there?”
“Okay,” Jess replied, beaming a smile up at her.
“Just wait here,” Jenna said as she stood up.
With Jess still sitting at the base of tree, Jenna went inside with Donna.
The moment they were in the house, Donna turned to Jenna and inquired in a serious tone, “You’re really gonna drive all the way up there?”
“Yeah,” Jenna replied blankly as they entered the kitchen.
Once they were inside, they closed the door behind them. Sitting at the breakfast bar was Gary Scott, PR guru. The moment she entered, he smiled at her.
“Does the girl know I’m here?” he asked.
“No. Of course not.”
“Do you think she’d recognize me?”
“Probably not. She’s only seen you at parties at the house, she doesn’t know what you do.”
“Okay. That’s good. We need to stay a
head in this. I’ve just gotten off the phone to Oprah’s people and they’re all go for tomorrow evening primetime, so that gives us another day to go over everything. Now I know that’s not—”
“Gary, I can’t do it,” Jenna suddenly interrupted.
“What do you mean you can’t?” he said frowning at her. “I’ve set everything up. The L.A. Times, OK!, Oprah. Even the fucking book deal. It’s all on.”
“I can’t.”
“Jenna,” Donna cooed next to her, “we discussed this. He’s left you with nothing. Now just because his daughter shows up, you feel upset and can’t go through with it. That’s understandable. But in the morning you’ll feel more up to it.”
“No, D. I can’t do it. I can’t do it to her and I don’t want to be known for the rest of my life through him. I went to get on with my life in my own regard and not be continually associated with Sam fucking Burgess.”
Gary threw up his hands in disgust.
“Jenna,” Donna went on, “you will get on with your life, but only with the financial backing to do it. What are you going to do, huh? Go back to your apartment in Beverley Hills and wait until your twenty thousand runs out in six months? Can you write a bestseller in that time?”
“Please, D, just let me think about it.”
“You really should think about it, Jenna,” Gary snapped from across the kitchen. “I’ve made a lot of promises to the types of people you don’t break promises with. If they get ahold of this some other way, through someone else, you’ll lose at least half of your value to them. After that, they’ll only want you for inside detail. You’ll have to answer to someone else’s story and not your own. But by being the one to make the big revelation, you’ll earn so much out of this. You’ll get your dignity back.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever lost it, Gary. And I certainly don’t find much dignity in turning tragic events in my own life into money-making schemes. And I also don’t see how you can call it dignified that I’m also going to tell everyone that Sam cheated on his dead wife. Who does that dignify? Certainly not me. Certainly not her. It only dignifies my bank balance.”