Authors: Florence Osmund
Daughters (22 page)
“Good grief,” Marie exclaimed. “What kind of man would do that?”
“The type of man I won’t allow my daughter to be associated with, that’s who.” With that, Ben headed toward the dining room. “C’mon, Rachael, we’re leaving.”
“What? Why?”
“Just get your coat. We’re going home.”
“Dad, what are you doing?”
Ben took his daughter’s arm and guided her toward the front door. Rachael pulled away from his grip and stomped out of the house. “This is so bogus.”
Jonathan entered the kitchen to check out the commotion. Claire filled him in.
“Sounds like Ben didn’t handle that too well,” Jonathan said.
“No, he didn’t,” Claire agreed.
Greg and Gloria entered the kitchen. “What on earth happened?” Gregory asked.
Claire explained what had transpired.
“What do you think we should do, Greg?” his wife asked.
“Nothing. When Ben doesn’t know how to handle something with that child, he runs. Drives us crazy, but Ben’s an adult. She’s his daughter. We don’t need to interfere.”
“Well, let’s eat some dinner,” Claire said, apparently trying to ease the tension that had built up in the room.
Ben called Claire the next day and asked to speak with Marie. “Rachael’s run off, and I have a feeling she’s headed toward Jonathan and Claire’s, toward you.” Ben’s house was in the same town, a mile and a half from the Brookses’ ranch.
“Are you sure she’s not headed toward this boy’s house or Depot Pond?” Marie asked.
“I’m pretty sure. The last thing she said to me was, and I quote, ‘You don’t know shit about anything. I’m going to talk to Marie.’ I went after her, but the little squirt is too fast for me. I thought about going after her in my car, but decided that would only make matters worse.”
“How long ago did she leave?”
“About ten minutes.”
“Maybe I should start driving toward your house and see if I can find her.”
“Would you?”
“Of course. I’ll call you when we’re safe and sound here.”
Ben’s sigh was audible even over the phone lines. “Thank you.”
Marie borrowed Claire’s car and drove the most likely route to Ben’s home. Halfway between the two homes, she saw Rachael walking on the side of the road with her head hung down. Despite the forty-something-degree weather, Rachael’s coat was wide open, and she wore no hat or gloves.
Marie pulled up beside her, leaned across the front seat, and cranked down the window. “C’mon, Rachael. Get in.”
She stood there for several seconds looking as forlorn as a child could possibly look. She stared at Marie as she walked toward the car, but stopped short of getting in.
“Rachael, get in here before you freeze to death.”
She opened the door and slid into the front seat. “He doesn’t understand anything, Marie.”
“I know it looks like that to you now, but why don’t we get to someplace warm and talk it through.”
“I don’t believe this. You’re going to take his side, aren’t you?”
“I’m not going to take anyone’s side, Rachael. I’m just going to talk this thing through with you. Is that what you want?”
Rachael nodded. “I guess.”
Marie drove back to the Brookses’, where Claire was waiting in the living room. “I made some hot chocolate for you two. Why don’t you take it into your room, Marie, where you can talk privately?”
“Can you call Ben and let him know Rachael’s here, Claire?” she asked before leading Rachael toward the bedroom. She didn’t miss the disparaging look that Rachael shot at Claire.
Once in the room, they both sat down on the bed and sipped their hot chocolate for a few seconds before Marie broke the silence. “There’s something you need to do before we talk.”
“What’s that?”
“You need to march yourself into the living room and apologize to Mrs. Brooks for that dirty look you just gave her. What happened yesterday wasn’t her fault.”
“Yes, it was! If it hadn’t been for her, I’d be with Craig right now.”
“Listen to me. Claire told me about Craig’s family because she was concerned about you. She didn’t tell your father anything. He overheard our conversation. You’re getting bent out of shape over someone caring about your well being. You need to apologize to her.”
Rachael crossed her arms and glared down at the bed.
“Now.”
Her footsteps echoed throughout the house. When she returned, she said, “There, are you happy now?”
“Look, Rachael, if you don’t drop that attitude of yours, this conversation is going to go nowhere, and you’ll be back in your house with your dad in the same situation as when you stormed out of there. Is that what you want?”
“No,” she said without looking up.
“Now, do you want to tell me what happened after you and your dad left here yesterday?”
“You know what happened. He said I couldn’t see Craig. Ever.”
“Did he say why?”
“‘Cause he comes from a bad family.” She rolled her eyes.
“And what do you think?”
“I told him I came from a bad family too. So what?”
“I’m sure that went over big.”
“It’s the truth. You should have seen the chumps my mom used to go with.”
“Do you think that kind of talk with your dad helped you in the end or hurt you?”
Rachael met Marie’s gaze. “Hurt.”
They talked for close to an hour. Marie had no experience talking to a teenager, any teenager, let alone one full of so much spirit and resentment. When Marie sensed the conversation was heading for a stalemate, she changed its course. “What exactly are you afraid of, Rachael?”
Rachael shook her head. “I’m not afraid of
anything
.”
While hard to do, Marie refrained from shouting, “You have so many fears, my dear, they’re about to consume you!” Instead she said, “Want to know what I think?”
Rachael glared at her as if to say,
Do I have a choice?
“I think you need to figure out a few things for yourself, because if you don’t, the situation you have at home will only get worse.”
“Like?”
“Like what’s making you so angry.”
Rachael didn’t respond.
“I have an idea what part of it is.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I think you’re angry at your mother.”
“I don’t give a shit about her. I don’t need her, and…”
“Stop with the language, or I’m going to drive you home and let you figure this out by yourself.”
“Sorry.”
“Look Rachael. I can’t blame you for being angry at your mother. I know you don’t know the whole story, and…”
“I don’t
have
to know the whole story,” Rachael protested in a loud voice. “She’s never been a good mother, always looking out for herself first, not caring shit for me.”
“I know, hon. That’s not right, and you so deserve better than that. But I have to go back to something I said awhile back, and that is if she was capable of doing better, I’m sure she would have.”
“Oh she was capable alright, capable of doing better for herself. She doesn’t care about other people, Marie. Don’t you get that?”
“You have every right to be angry…but not at me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Let’s talk about here and now. I know people who care a lot about you.”
Rachael gave her a half-smile. “So what should I do now?”
“The first thing I’d do is go home and make amends with your father.”
Rachael sighed.
“Nothing else you or I do will work until you do that.”
Rachael’s face lit up. “What are you going to do?”
“I have an idea that may help.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t tell you yet. Actually I could, but I’m not going to until I talk to your dad.”
“He’s such a geezer. And when he can’t deal with me anymore, he runs away.”
“Like you just did to him?”
“See how
he
likes it.”
“He cares about you.” She waited for Rachael to meet her gaze. “Even geezers deserve a break. Right?”
That was enough to bring a smile to Rachael’s face.
“Okay. I’ll apologize. Will you go with me?”
“Sure.”
On her way out the front door, Rachael said to Claire, “Bye, Mrs. Brooks. Thank you.”
Ben was reading the afternoon paper when Marie and Rachael arrived. “Can I come in?” Rachael asked before she got all the way in through the front door.
“Of course you can, Rachael.”
“Marie’s here with me. Is that okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
Rachael apologized for her behavior, albeit clumsily, and then went to her room.
“She’s a smart girl, Ben,” Marie said.
“Too smart if you ask me.”
“I know. What I see is a young girl who has massive pent-up anger and lots of fears she doesn’t even know she has. And she needs her mother.”
Ben shot her a pathetic look.
“Rachael told me things about her mother, the various places they lived in Chicago, the company she kept, so I know how bad it was. But that doesn’t make her miss her any less. That’s all she knew for so long.”
“I know. I know. I just thought the environment here was so much better, she’d do anything to stay. Boy, was I wrong.”
“Don’t you see, Ben? When you’re taken out of your environment, no matter if it’s good or bad, the new environment scares you. It’s different. It’s intimidating. Especially to a young girl. Look, I have an idea. I’ll be back here for Christmas. What if you were to let Rachael spend her Christmas break with me, in Atchison. We’d have time for all the girl talk she needs. I think it would be a good break for her.”
“Why would you want to take this on?”
“Because I care about her. And maybe I see a little of myself in her too. Believe it or not, we have a number of things in common. I think maybe I can help her.”
Ben stared out the window past Marie for several seconds. “I suppose it couldn’t be any worse than the mess we’ve created here. Okay, she can go.”
Marie spent Christmas with her family and then brought Rachael back with her to Atchison for four days. Marie could tell Rachael was excited about coming home with her—she must have called the Brookses household a half dozen times during Marie’s visit.
Rachael had never been on a plane before. Marie watched her as she peered out the window at the vast blue sky above the clouds, sitting up so straight, looking so proud in her window seat of the plane. “Having fun?”
“This is so cool. None of my friends have ever flown.”
“None
has
flown.”
“No, they haven’t, that’s what I said.”
“I meant ‘has’ is the correct verb. It’s singular, like none.”
Rachael gave her a “give me a break—I’m on vacation from school” look.
“Okay, I’ll stop.”
“Thanks. It’s hard to be this fired up and talk good grammar too.”
I give up.
Marie arranged for a limo to pick them up at the airport. Once home, she showed Rachael to the guest bedroom, which she had spiced up with new curtains and a bedspread that were more contemporary than what she’d had before. On the pillow she had put a stuffed bear that Karen told her was popular with teens.
“Hey, this is cool.”
“So I’m officially hip?”
“Of course you are. Now my Dad, that’s another story.”
