The next Friday afternoon, the buzzer went off in their room. “Anne Clark, you have a delivery in the lobby.”
Ashley glanced up from her laptop and gave Anne a quizzical look. “A delivery?”
Anne threw her hands in the air. “I have no idea.”
A young man with a bouquet approached her. “Are you Anne Clark?”
“Yes, but there must be some mistake.”
“Just sign here, please.”
Anne signed her name and set the flowers down a moment to read the card.
I’m sorry my parents were such jerks. Still friends? Mitch
Anne carried them back upstairs. Emma entered the room and did a double take. “That’s the biggest bunch of flowers I’ve ever seen in my life. Who died?”
“They’re from Mitch.”
“From Mitch” Emma acknowledged with a satisfied smile. “Sweet! Game on! There’s still hope for the human race after all.”
Mitch and Pete were waiting at the restaurant. Anne took a seat next to Mitch but refused to look at him. She was quietly grieving and couldn’t deal with the fact they were caught up in this no win situation. All her life she wished she could just be somebody else, but never more than at this moment.
“Are you okay?” he asked after they ordered.
“I’m fine,” she lied. Anne learned the hard way that most people don’t really want to hear the truth when they ask how you are. It’s a polite question but empty of genuine concern. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way. You didn’t need to do that.”
Emma, Pete and Ashley carried on a lively conversation through the meal. Mitch and Anne remained silent. When the waiter brought their checks, Anne grabbed hers off the table and hurried up front to pay. Mitch followed her out the door.
“Hey! Wait up,” he called after her on the sidewalk. “I’m really sorry about the way my parents treated you.”
Anne turned to face him with a look of weary resignation. “I know you are, but that doesn’t change a thing. I can’t change who I am and they’ll never accept me.”
“Maybe in time.”
“Don’t kid yourself. I stopped believing in fairytales a long time ago. There are no Walt Disney endings for people like me.”
“Well, at least can I see you at Giovanni’s on Fridays?”
“I suppose.” Anne shrugged. “But it’s just delaying the inevitable.”
Mitch walked her back to Stanton Hall. As she turned to go up the stairs, Mitch took her by the hand. “Still friends?” he pleaded.
“Okay. Still friends,” she agreed with a deep sigh. “At least, for now.”
They continued to see each other once a week until Thanksgiving vacation was about to begin. Emma and Pete made plans to go to Ohio together.
Anne gave Emma a questioning look. “Oh? Sounds like things are getting serious.”
“Maybe,” she answered with a grin. “So what about you, Ashley? Where are you going for Thanksgiving?”
“I’m staying here,” Ashley replied in no uncertain terms. “Dad and the step-monster are going to some tropical resort. Their invitation to me was probably just an afterthought.”
Mitch brightened at the news. “I’ll be in town, so I’ll meet the two of you next Friday.”
Anne decided maybe the holiday wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The same restaurant Anne and Ashley went to last year was open for Thanksgiving, so they decided to have turkey dinner there. Once again, Anne was struck by how much she and Ashley had in common. There would be no cozy family dinner at home for either one of them.
Anne had high hopes when she and Ashley arrived at Giovanni’s the next evening, but they discovered Mitch wasn’t there.
“Maybe he’s running late,” Ashley suggested.
Minutes crept by. When it became obvious he wasn’t coming, they decided to order. “
Couldn’t be bothered, I guess,” Anne muttered, unable to hide the bitterness welling up inside her.
The next day, there was a message on her cell phone: “Anne, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, but...” She threw the phone down on her bed and didn’t listen to the rest. Anne made no further mention of it until Emma came back from break and asked how things went.
“Well, Mitch was a no show,” she revealed. “Every time I get my hopes up, he bails out. Guess his parents won.”
“Jerk!” Emma barked.
“Traitor,” Ashley chimed in.
“Jellyfish,” Emma responded, as they began a war of insults about Mitch.
“Coward.”
“Slime ball.”
“Sleazebag.”
“Slug.”
“Cad.”
Anne frowned thoughtfully. “That’s an old one. But it works for me.”
“Idiot.”
“Clueless.”
“Lackey.”
“Loser.”
“Lowlife.”
“Snake in the grass.”
“Scum.”
“No,” Ashley amended. “Pond Scum.”
Anne nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I like that.”
“Then pond scum it is,” Emma declared.
A few minutes later Emma received a call from Pete. After they exchanged a few words, she looked up at Anne. “Did you know Mitch’s father was taken to the hospital last Friday? He left a message on your cell.”
“No. I was so mad, I didn’t listen to it.” Anne grabbed her phone and heard the full message but still wasn’t assured. “He could have called me after it happened but he didn’t.”
On Friday afternoon, Anne was summoned to the lobby. The delivery boy stood there with a huge bouquet of flowers.
“Again?” she said, making no attempt to hide her disgust. “You must be kidding.”
“Hey, the guy’s probably in love. Sign here, please.”
Anne took the flowers up to her room and plopped them on her desk.
Ashley raised an eyebrow. “Nice.”
“Nobody died!” Anne snapped, opening the card to read it. “They’re from Mitch.”
Sorry I couldn’t make it. Hope we can still see each other at Giovanni’s. Your friend, Mitch.
They met Pete and Mitch at the restaurant the next Friday. Anne remained polite but distant. The minute the waiter brought the bill, she put down her money and left the table without a word.
Mitch scrambled to catch up with her. “I’ll walk you back.”
Anne could barely reign in her frustration at the whole situation. “Why bother?”
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner but everything was so crazy. And then we had to wait while they ran tests. My mother was hysterical. It was all I could do to hold things together. Fortunately, they found the problem. His heart stopped because he has an irregular heartbeat. They’re able to treat it with medication for now.”
The memory of Joe’s death flashed through her mind, an image that haunted her to this day. He suddenly collapsed on the kitchen floor, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Anne had to keep it together and call 911, while Mona shrieked in agony and kept pleading, “Wake up, Joe! Please wake up! Please!”
A few days later when the funeral service was held, the family took over and shoved Anne aside. She hid in her room most of the time, alone with her grief.
Mitch reached over and took her hand in his. “A penny for your thoughts.”
She looked up and withdrew it. “I went through something like that. Things can get pretty crazy.”
“Again, I’m sorry I let you down,” Mitch said as they approached Stanton Hall. You must have called me every name in the book.”
“Yeah, but my friends came up with most of them,” she admitted. “Pond scum was my favorite.”
“Ouch!”
Anne gave him a fleeting smile and continued,
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other again. I could never fit into your world. Your parents would see to that. It’s hopeless. Just let it be.”
Pete planned to meet his family in Florida for a warm weather vacation for Christmas break. Emma looked forward to celebrating Christmas in Ohio and Ashley decided to be with her father and his wife. Once again Anne’s footsteps echoed down the empty halls.
On Christmas Eve, the buzzer rang. “Anne Clark, you have a visitor. She hurried down to the lobby and saw Mitch standing there with a huge poinsettia in hand.
“Seriously?” She shook her head slowly. “You know, you’re going into the wrong profession. You should open a florist shop.”
“Thought you could use some Christmas cheer. And if we hurry, we can have dinner. Giovanni’s always closes...” he began.
“At seven on Christmas Eve,” she finished. “I’ll be right back.” Anne hurried up the stairs and put the poinsettia down by her one and only Christmas card. Somehow the card from the Duseks didn’t look quite so forlorn this year. She grabbed her heavy coat, hat and gloves and met Mitch downstairs.
A bitter cold wind whipped down the cross streets of Chicago, stirring up dust and debris. The city lacked the charm of last year’s gentle snowfall.
They entered the restaurant with rosy cheeks, glad to be out of the chilly weather. After the waiter seated them, Anne studied the menu. “I think I‘d like to order something different.”
“The lasagna is to die for,” Mitch reminded.
“You’re right,” she agreed, smiling at the memory of last Christmas Eve. “It is.”
“After they ordered, Giovanni emerged from the kitchen carrying his black instrument case.
Mitch winked at Anne. “I think Giovanni is going to play for us again.”
Giovanni set his violin aside and hurried over to greet them. He cast a disapproving glance at Anne’s left hand. “No ring yet? Mitch, you must not let this lovely girl get away.”
“I’m afraid Mitch’s parents don’t see it like that,” Anne explained. “They don’t approve of me.”
“How can this be?” Giovanni asked, his snow white brows knitted in disbelief. “They must look with their eyes closed.”
He turned, picked up his violin and played “Looking Through the Eyes of Love.”
Mitch squeezed her hand and tears started to well up in Anne’s eyes. She was glad when the music changed to “The Christmas Song.”
When their dinners came, one lone tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “Wow, that looks so good!” she said with exaggerated enthusiasm, hoping he didn’t notice.
After they finished, Mitch picked up the check and walked her back. At the steps of Stanton Hall he took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.
“You’re pushing your luck again,” Anne teased.
“I’m not through yet.”
“Oh?”
“My family and I are going up to the vacation house in Lake Geneva right after Christmas and I’d like to take you there.”
Anne pulled away abruptly. “Are you crazy? Your parents would never put up with that.”
“My dad was taken way down by his condition. I asked him if I could bring you and he didn’t object.”
“That man hates me. You must be out of your mind!”
“Anne, I really want to spend New Year’s Eve with you. I promise if they aren’t good to you, we’ll be out of there in a flash.”
Anne looked at him doubtfully, but he sounded sincere. “Okay, but you better live up to that promise.”
Anne began packing her clothes for the trip. She set aside her coat, hat, gloves and boots for the ride up there, adding a pair of jeans and dressy black pants with a couple festive sweaters. Guessing they might go somewhere for New Year’s Eve, she packed a simple black dress and high-heeled shoes, along with a dressy pants suit for any other occasion.
By the time Mitch picked her up the day after Christmas, Anne was completely on edge, torn between excitement about being together and dreading the prospect of seeing his parents again.
Mitch seemed to understand her mood. “It’ll be fine.”
“Just remember your promise.”
“I will,” he agreed.
She relaxed for the rest of the trip until they pulled up in the driveway. “Wait a minute! When you said ‘vacation home,’ I thought this would be some cabin by the lake, not a mansion.”
“Well,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “Just think of it as a very large cabin.”
Mitch helped carry her bags into the entryway. His parents stood there to greet them, along with a young couple. He threw his father a warning look. “Mom, Dad, you remember Anne.”
“Miss Clark,” his father acknowledged with a stiff nod.
Donna Randolph stood ramrod straight, her medium length salt and pepper hair perfectly styled with not a hair out of place. Her neatly pressed wool pantsuit looked like it had just come from the cleaners. “Welcome to our home, Anne,” she greeted politely.
Mitch continued the introductions. “This is my sister, Brittney, and her friend, Jason.”
“Nice to meet you,” Anne mumbled, lowering her head shyly and wondering why in the world she ever agreed to this.
“Call me Britt,” she insisted, shaking Anne’s hand. “We’ll be rooming together. I’ll show you upstairs.” She waved toward the staircase. “Come on, baby brother. Tote that barge. Lift that bail and bring Anne’s luggage to my room.”
Not to be outdone, Mitch put his hands on his hips in mock dismay. “Bossy, as ever!”
The twin beds in the spacious room had canopies and ruffled bedding fit for a little princess. Anne thought the décor seemed way too young for the grown woman standing in front of her.
Britt pulled out a lower dresser drawer. “There’s room for your things in here and hangars in the closet. Dinner will be in about a half hour. I’ll leave you for now so you can settle in.”
Anne was just about finished when Britt returned. “How’s it going?”
“Okay.”
“You know, I was thrilled when I heard you were coming,” she began excitedly. “I was about to lose hope for my brother. He’s never brought anyone here before.”
Anne puzzled over that a few seconds. “Surely, Mitch has had lots of girlfriends by now,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but he never brought any of them home.”
Anne found that hard to believe and decided to change the subject. “So, your parents had two children, you and Mitch?”
“Actually, there were three. We had an older brother. Mike died when a drunk driver swerved into the shoulder and hit him on his bicycle. My father thought the world of him and was totally devastated. After that he expected Mitch, as the only male heir left in the family, to step up to the plate and carry on the Randolph legacy.”
The situation began to dawn on Anne. “No wonder your father doesn’t like me. He wouldn’t want Mitch seeing someone, as they say back home, who doesn’t have the proper breeding.”
“My father is so stubborn. He doesn’t see the forest for the trees.”
“He looks with his eyes closed,” Anne said, with a sad smile.
“You are so right! After Mike died, everybody seemed to forget Mitch also lost his brother. My parents pressured him to suck it up and be a model son. I was really getting worried he’d never bond with anyone again. I’ve seen this happen before.”
Anne’s suspicions were suddenly aroused. “Oh? How so?”
“I often work with troubled families. Some parents are too rigid. Others are too lax and try to be friends with their children. They refuse to give them any guidance, creating monsters who think they know it all and expect the world to hand them everything on a silver platter. I’ve also met some wonderful parents whose children got into drugs or developed m
ental illness. But worst of all is the sudden death of a child. It’s heartbreaking to see the aftermath, especially when another child in the family is expected to fill that void.”
“You mean, you’re a shrink? I hate shrinks! But,” she added, “I like you.”
Britt grinned back at Anne. “I like you, too.”
“Do you ever work with foster kids?”
“Occasionally. Were you a foster child?”
“Yeah. Which is why I don’t like lawyers, judges and shrinks. My mother was given up for adoption to an older couple. At seventeen she found out she was pregnant with me. Mom and her boyfriend were going to get married when they turned eighteen, but got in a car wreck before that happened. My father was killed. The Clarks took care of Mom. They died around the time I was born, so I was told. Then Mom got hooked on painkillers, booze, and a bunch of loser boyfriends. One night I was caught wandering around a grocery store stealing food. About all I remember is crying when somebody told me thieves go to jail. I couldn’t explain to the police where I lived so they thought I was lying. After all, shouldn’t every kid know where their home is? I had to show them where we were staying because we didn’t have a home. As I sat in the police car outside that motel I wanted to see Mom, but they wouldn’t let me. Nobody told me she died that night. And nobody ever apologized for the way they treated me.”
“How did she die?” Brit asked quietly, as if she already knew the answer.
I guess when she ran out of money and boyfriends, Mom couldn’t take it anymore. She killed herself.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Anne. Did you have any other family to help you?”
“No, not really, so I was sent to a bunch of foster families. Couldn’t seem to please anybody so causing trouble became my whole purpose in life.”
“I hear you’re going to Lakeshore now. Given your background, that rarely happens. What turned you around?”
“I ended up with Joe and Mona and stayed there five years. Joe bought a flute, thinking I should join the school band. My band teacher kept telling me how talented I was.” Anne paused to swallow the growing lump in her throat. “At first, I didn’t buy it. Nobody ever said anything nice about me. I kept at it because I seemed to be doing okay, and I wanted to believe he was right.”
Prelude to Silence Page 7