by Susan Lewis
‘Now, where did I put the list I made for Fergus’s wife? Shame you’re not going to be here for the fair, honey, it’s been a long time since you took part in our annual madness. Do you remember the year you won first prize for your chocolate spongecake?’ She chuckled nostalgically. ‘Never tasted anything so bad in my life,’ she commented, ‘but it sure looked good and Mitzi Frankham was mad as hell, ’cos her custard pie didn’t even get a look in, as I recall.’ She chuckled again and began tidying up her books. ‘Ivy Perry’s talking about raising the price of her donkey rides to a dollar,’ she went on. ‘Don’t know that the kids can afford it, but I guess she’ll drop if they can’t. Oh, Dad tells me Bob Gilbert’s bringing out his old coconut shy. It’ll be the first time we’ve seen that old thing since Fremont Fulbright was mayor and that’s going back some. Boy, did Fremont love that old shy, turned into a great big kid every time he got near it. They say his son’s organizing for a real carnival ride to come over from Utah this year, though why Utah no one seems to know, ’cos I’m sure we’ve got some mighty fine rides right here in Nebraska if anyone cared to look.’
Stacking everything in a disorderly pile, she turned to look at Ellen and found her staring down at the bowl full of water with her hands resting gently on the edge of the sink. She watched her for a while and wished with all her heart that there were something she could do to take the pain away, but there was nothing except be there for her and try to help her through it.
Hearing Frank come back into the kitchen, she glanced over at him and saw that he was watching Ellen too and her heart weighted with sadness as she saw the helplessness in his eyes. Ellen was only going to be here a couple more days and Nina was praying with all her might that her husband would overcome that obstinate pride of his before she went, because it certainly was high time he did. In fact, if he didn’t she was going to step right in there and make him, because this had gone on far too long now and it was time someone brought the old fool to his senses.
In truth, he appeared on the brink of giving way now, but to her dismay he merely ended up treating her to a punishing scowl before walking on out the door.
Turning back to Ellen she said, ‘Are you OK, honey?’
Ellen nodded and lifting her head she forced a smile. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘it just steals up on me sometimes and it’s like I can’t get it under control.’ She took a breath, as though the small rush of air could ease the burn of the pain. Then, picking up a plate she began to wash it. She wanted to tell her mother how it seemed to hurt all over, not just in her heart, but in her eyes, her face, her hands – it was as though her entire body were being taken over by the longing and despair. The most difficult part of it was that it seemed to be getting worse instead of better, for she had only to picture his face, or remember some little thing he had said and the need would sear through her with an intensity she could hardly bear. She said nothing, though, for it troubled her mother deeply to know how much she was suffering and there had to come a time when she stopped discussing it, for going over and over it, the way she and her mother had these past couple of weeks, was never going to change it.
‘I’ll go get the room ready for Bessie Jane,’ she offered, leaving the dishes and starting to dry her hands.
Nina smiled, for it was typical of her lately to leave a task half finished without even realizing it. ‘You know, it’s going to be all right, honey,’ she said softly. ‘In my heart, I know it.’
Ellen nodded and stroked her mother’s cheek as she passed. ‘Of course it will,’ she said. ‘And being here with you has helped more than you know.’
An hour or so later Ellen was swinging gently back and forth on the porch swing, with the coffee and cookies her mother had brought out lying untouched on the table. She knew her mother wouldn’t mind about the cookies, but she’d want her to make a special effort for Bessie Jane at dinner tonight, which she would, for the last thing she needed was Bessie Jane fussing and fretting over how much weight she had lost. At least her mother understood it was normal to lose your appetite at a time like this, even though she did all she could to encourage her to eat anyway. But it wasn’t like she was starving herself, it was simply hard to get the food down, for every time she thought of Michael her mouth turned dry and her throat just closed up. And she’d been doing a lot of strenuous work about the farm since she got there, keeping herself busy, trying hard not to give herself too much time to think, so she was sure to have lost weight that way too.
In fact, it was only now, today, that she had run out of things to do and people to visit. Or maybe it was just that she needed a little time to take stock, work out exactly where she was going to begin when she returned to LA. She felt so unfocused right now that it would probably do her good to get back, even though, in her heart, she was dreading it. But of course, once she was there she’d be so busy, so bogged down with commitments and plans and meetings and strategies to get her new career underway she wasn’t going to have time to be afraid.
Suddenly the phone started to ring inside the house and her heart felt as though it was trying to leap from her chest, even though she already knew it wouldn’t be him. Then, with a horrible, sinking sensation she found herself wondering if she would ever see or hear from him again. The idea that they were now on totally separate paths was so heart-wrenching that she couldn’t bring herself to face it, but she would, soon, she just needed more time. And at least here, in the sanctuary of her home, she didn’t have to deal with the press and the fear that she was going to pick up a paper, or turn on the TV, and discover that he and Michelle were getting married, or having another baby, or something else equally as devastating.
‘That was Bessie Jane,’ her mother said, slipping a cardigan on as she came out on to the porch. ‘She’s ready for me to go pick her up now. I’ll be gone about an hour, unless you feel like taking a ride with me.’
Still struggling with the disappointment that it hadn’t been him, Ellen smiled and shook her head. ‘I need to call Matty,’ she said. ‘She’s been filming in Phoenix, so I haven’t spoken to her for a couple of days and I want to find out if she’s heard from Matt Granger; you know, the director who’s thinking of giving her the lead in his new movie.’
Nina nodded, kissed the top of her head and went off to get the car. Ellen watched her go and knew that she’d seen straight through the excuse, for what she really wanted to ask Matty was if she had heard any news about Michael. Except she knew that once she got Matty on the line she wouldn’t ask, though whether it was pride and anger at the way he had just abandoned her that would stop her, or simply the fact that she wasn’t up to any more blows, she couldn’t really be sure.
Sighing wearily to herself, she watched her father standing over the car talking to her mother, then, as her mother drove off she let her head drop back and pushed the swing a little harder. She could feel the tears rising, the grief, the despair, the hopelessness and pain. In reality she’d hardly cried at all, but inside it was as though she never stopped. What frightened her the most was the way she held on to her pain, as though it was all that connected her to him now. In its way it was like a support, though in truth it was tearing her apart. She was angry at him for making her afraid to return to LA, even though she knew the courage had to be hers – and it was there, right deep down inside her, all she had to do was find it. But even if she did, would it bring back her drive, her sparkle and zest, all of which had been dulled by the hurt, as though the loss of her dreams had turned out a light inside her, leaving her spirits in a cold and darkened world? Maybe if she could stop torturing herself with wondering if he truly loved Michelle, or had gone back to her because of Robbie, she would find it easier to get on with her life. For what did his reasons matter when his choice had been made and whether he had ever really loved her was a question she would probably never know the answer to now.
Her eyes closed as the slow, cruel burn of loss embraced her heart again and the strength she normally found to bre
ak it failed her. It was as though there was nothing in her now but the need to see him, to hear him and feel him. She wondered if she really could find the courage to call him, even though she knew she wouldn’t for she was too angry and too proud to want him to know how much he’d hurt her. She doubted she would ever be able to forgive him for leaving her the way he had, for not even caring enough to make a phone call, or bothering to say goodbye. She hated him for making her feel so unimportant when he meant so much to her and had allowed her to believe she had meant the same to him.
Her breath was starting to quicken and as she struggled to keep control she heard someone walk up the steps to the porch and come to stand beside her. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see her father, and as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his there was nothing she could do to stop the tears falling. She started to sob, and putting his arms around her he rocked her back and forth, the way he always had when she was a child, right here on this swing.
‘Can you forgive an old fool?’ he said gruffly.
‘Oh, Dad,’ she choked, lifting her head from his shoulder and looking into his awkward but gentle grey eyes. ‘Of course I can forgive you. Can you forgive me?’
His lean, weathered cheeks were wet with his own tears, as he said, ‘Nothing to forgive. It’s your life, I just had other ideas what you should do with it.’
Ellen’s smile was shaky. ‘Looking at me now, I wonder if you weren’t right,’ she told him.
He shook his head. ‘Not right,’ he said, ‘just scared. I wanted to stop anything bad ever happening to you and I got mad because you wouldn’t let me. You wanted to go out there and make your own mistakes, and I wanted to make them for you. I’ve learned now that you can’t do that for a person, no matter how much you love them.’
Resting her head back on his shoulder Ellen gazed down at their joined hands and allowed the safe, familiar scent of him to wash over her. Just like her mother, she’d prayed during the past two weeks that this would happen, for in an irrational, almost childish kind of way she still believed that her father could make everything all right. But as special as this moment was and as happy as it was making her to know that at last they were friends, there was still an emptiness inside her that was refusing to be filled. As though to reassure him that he was giving her all she needed she squeezed his hand tighter and wondered how much her mother had told him about Michael, and Clay and Ted Forgon, for she had confessed all the night after she arrived. She guessed her father probably knew more than he would want to talk about, but she didn’t blame him for that, some things between father and daughter were best left unsaid. And all that mattered now was that they were sitting here together, gazing out at the endless rows of soybeans to a far and promising horizon that was as enticing and ephemeral as it was unpredictable.
They were still there, holding hands and idly chatting and laughing about the farm, their neighbours, the past when, over an hour later, her mother’s station wagon came chugging into the distance. Ellen smiled as she thought of how happy her mother was going to be to find them together like this and for a fleeting moment she even dared to hope that maybe, one of these days, they might persuade her father to visit LA. But it wouldn’t be wise to rush him and besides, she was wondering if now the silence was over she shouldn’t stay on at the farm for a few more days. She needed to be sure first that she wasn’t doing it just to put off returning to LA, but even if that were her reason it would still give her and her father some more time.
‘Should get her a new car,’ her father remarked, as her mother drove into the yard, ‘that old jalopy’s falling apart.’
‘Mmm,’ Ellen responded, gazing curiously at the windshield. Her head went to one side, as though to see past the reflecting sunlight and shadow, but though she could see her mother all right, she still couldn’t get a clear look at the person beside her. Whoever it was though, it sure wasn’t Bessie Jane.
Even before he got out of the car Ellen’s heart was starting to thud – but she had to be dreaming, this couldn’t be happening, grief and longing had obviously turned her mind to the point where she was beginning to see things. Yet he was standing there, looking across the yard to where she was, and even through all the confusion inside her she somehow knew this was real.
She started to laugh and sob. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said, getting to her feet. Then, clasping her hands to her cheeks she whispered, ‘Tell me I’m not dreaming.’
‘If you are, then so am I,’ her father responded.
‘Did you know?’ she asked, still looking at Michael.
‘Yes,’ Frank answered. ‘But your mother said I wasn’t to tell you.’
Ellen stood where she was, watching as Michael opened a rear door of the car, then moved aside for a little boy to get out. ‘Oh my God,’ Ellen murmured, tears stinging her eyes. ‘This can’t be happening. How can this be happening without anyone telling me?’ Not waiting for an answer, she began walking along the porch to the steps, her fingers pressed to her mouth, as hand in hand Michael and Robbie came towards her. She ran down the steps quickly, then took the last few paces more slowly, until she was standing in front of them and seeing so much love and irony in Michael’s eyes that she longed just to throw herself into his arms.
‘Ellen,’ he said, holding her gaze, ‘I’d like you to meet Robbie. Robbie,’ he said, looking down at his son, ‘this is Ellen.’
‘Hello,’ Robbie said, looking up at her with his father’s devastatingly blue eyes and holding out a hand for her to shake. He glanced at his father, as though seeking reassurance and as she took his hand Ellen was dimly aware of her parents joining them too.
‘Hello Robbie,’ she said, smiling down at him. ‘I’m glad to meet you.’
Robbie’s eyes suddenly became big with importance. ‘Daddy said I have to be a good boy,’ he told her.
‘Is that so?’ she said, matching his earnestness. ‘Well I’m sure you’re always a good boy, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am. Well usually I am. But I have to be especially good today, because Daddy wants you to come and live with us and if I’m a good boy and he’s a good boy too, you might want to. And when we go to live in America-land he wants you to be married to him, but he thinks it might …’ he took a breath, ‘be too soon to ask. And he said when we get to America-land that Batman and Superman live there and you might take me to see them.’
Ellen and her parents were laughing, as rolling his eyes Michael said, ‘Robbie, you just stole all my lines and gave away all my secrets.’
Robbie’s eyes were still on Ellen. ‘I forgot,’ he told her. ‘Well, that’s OK,’ she said. ‘We all forget things sometimes, and I always think it’s good sharing secrets, don’t you?’
Robbie nodded. ‘Me and Daddy share all our secrets, don’t we Daddy?’
‘Not any more, we don’t,’ Michael corrected.
‘Shall I tell you something?’ Robbie said to Ellen, as though his father were no longer there.
‘Oh, yes please,’ she said, her eyes dancing with laughter.
‘Robbie,’ Michael cautioned.
But Robbie was already underway. ‘My Daddy saved me,’ he said proudly. ‘I was with all these really bad men who had guns and masks and there was this one man who Daddy hit and then he got the man like this … Shall I show you how he got the man?’
‘No, thank you,’ Michael interrupted. ‘Why don’t you show us all how good you are at introducing yourself instead, because Ellen’s father is there and you haven’t said hello to him yet.’
Robbie looked up at Frank. ‘Shall I show you how Daddy got the man?’ he said.
Frank chuckled with delight.
‘Introduce yourself,’ Michael said firmly. ‘This is Mr Shelby and you are …’
‘I am Robbie,’ he said, pronouncing each word very deliberately as he held out his hand.
‘Hello, Robbie,’ Frank said, taking the hand. ‘Didn’t your daddy tell you you’ve already arrived in America-land?
’
Robbie’s eyes started to shine with wonder. ‘Do you mean Batman is here?’ he said, almost in a whisper.
Frank grimaced. ‘Not Batman,’ he said, ‘but I do have something to show you, over there in the barn, and I think you’re going to like them. Do you want to come see?’
‘Yes, please,’ Robbie said and without a backward glance he started to follow Frank across the yard.
Michael, Ellen and her mother watched them go and heard Robbie say, ‘Mr Shelby, what’s your name?’
‘Well,’ they heard Frank answer, ‘my name’s Frank, but I guess, if your daddy is going to marry my daughter then you can call me grandpa.’
‘I haven’t got a grandpa,’ Robbie told him.
‘Well, looks like you got one now,’ Frank replied and they disappeared around the corner.
Ellen turned back to Michael and caught her lip between her teeth as a sob of pure joy tried to erupt from her throat. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’ she said. ‘Mom, you must have known, how come you never said anything?’
Nina shrugged. ‘He asked me not to,’ she said.
‘I thought you might refuse to see me,’ Michael confessed, ‘so I decided not to give you a choice. And I brought Robbie along, because I figured if I didn’t win you over, he might.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Ellen laughed. ‘He’s adorable.’
‘He’s a lousy keeper of secrets, is what he is,’ Michael reminded her, reaching out to take her hand.
‘Well, I got a dinner to be putting on the stove,’ Nina said tactfully. ‘Frank’ll see to your luggage in a while, Michael. Welcome to the farm, by the way. We got a room all fixed up for you. Ellen did it, but she didn’t realize she was doing it for you. Will Robbie be OK sleeping with you?’
‘That’ll work just fine,’ Michael assured her and as she turned away he slipped an arm around Ellen’s shoulders. ‘Is there somewhere around here I can kiss you?’ he whispered, ‘because I’m feeling the urge pretty bad.’