Replacement Baby (8 page)

Rose tried to forget about her frustrations with Rodney being too old fashioned and enjoy each day in London. Having no clue where to search next for Loretta Jennings, she focused her energy on socializing and sightseeing.

Together, Rose, Lionel, and Julie visited the British Museum (Lionel insisted that they stay for nearly six hours), the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, the Tower Bridge, and St. Paul’s Cathedral. Rose and Julie took a river ferry down the Thames. Rose was delighted by the beauty of the architecture and the richness of the art in London. They went to a London show,
Carousel
by Rogers and Hammerstein. Rose had never seen a professional play before, she quickly fell in love with the stage. She and Julie grew closer, despite her friend’s incessant chatter.

Chapter Twelve

Rose had leafed
through the pages of the
Rose in the Countryside
book from Mrs. Harrison a few times before tucking it away in a drawer and forgetting about it. Occasionally Rose would open the drawer and spot it inside. She would briefly think of Mrs. Harrison with a smile before shutting the drawer again.

On the first Friday evening in July, Rodney called, as he always did. On Fridays they chatted for awhile and made plans for their date the following evening.

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” Rodney apologized as soon as she said hello.

Rose felt her heart sink.

“Why, Rodney?”

“Well, something unexpectedly came up at work and I can’t take you out tomorrow night,” Rodney told her.

“Oh,” Rose responded with disappointment.

“I hate to do this, but I am a manager at the store,” Rodney explained. “But I’ll tell you what. I’ll take you out on Friday afternoon. How does that sound?”

“Fantastic,” Rose agreed.

“Okay, terrific. I’ll call you on Friday morning and we can arrange a time and a place for us to meet. Sound good?” Rodney’s voice sounded eager.

“Yes, that’s great,” Rose replied, feeling slightly less disappointed.

“Okay, Friday it is! See you then.”

“Bye, Rodney,” Rose replied, trying to mask the disappointment which was evident in her voice.

After they said good-bye, Rose hung up the phone and began tapping her fingers on the table, deep in thought. She absently opened the drawer of the desk that the telephone sat on and spotted the book from Mrs. Harrison. Thinking of her old friend, she took the book out of the door and began flipping through the pages.

She turned to the last page in the book, one she had not noticed before. It featured a black and white photograph of the author, L. G. Jenner. The mini biography explained that the author had been writing stories about little Rose and her adventures in the country for fourteen years. L.G. Jenner did all of the writing and the illustrations for her books. She lived in the countryside near Kettering in England.

Rose’s eyes glanced back at the photograph of L. G. Jenner. Something about her seemed familiar. She studied the woman’s face again.
Can it be?
Rose thought as her eyes grew wide.

This woman looked very much like the person who she believed to be her true mother, her birth mother, Loretta Grigsby Jennings. L.G. Jenner’s face appeared older and sadder, but otherwise the resemblance was uncanny from what Rose remembered of the photographs in the newspaper clippings. Her heart began racing.

Forgetting about Rodney’s disappointing phone call, Rose rushed away to find Lionel. She hurried up the stairs and down the hall to his room. Approaching it, she softly, but excitedly, began knocking on the door.

“Lionel! Lionel! Please open the door!” Rose called to him, trying to keep her voice at a volume that would not wake up the whole house.

Rose heard sounds of him moving inside. She bit her lip, anxious for him to answer. Slowly, he opened the door and stood in front of her in his pajama pants with his shirtless chest bare. His hair was in tangles. Rose blushed and looked down.

“What’s wrong, Rose?” he asked, his voice sounding concerned.

“Lionel, look at this woman!” Rose said excitedly, shoving the book into his hands, suddenly forgetting that Lionel was standing in front of her half naked.

He examined the photograph with a puzzled expression on his face.

“I think she’s my mother,” Rose added. “My birth mother. The woman I’ve been looking for!”

“You really think so?” Lionel asked. “Why do you think?”

Rose quickly explained the photographs from the newspaper which she had found in the box under the floor. She explained the other obvious similarities. The name, L. G. Jenner, was similar to Loretta Grigsby Jennings. And the main character in the books she authored, Rose, was a little girl with her own birth name and similar features.

“But are you really sure it’s her?” Lionel asked, his voice doubtful.

“Well, I don’t know for sure,” Rose responded. “But it wouldn’t hurt to find out, would it?”

“So, tomorrow let’s take the train to Kettering,” Lionel said with a smile.

“Thank you, Lionel!” Rose exclaimed, surprised. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. For a moment, she felt his bare chest against her and the warmth of his body.

Lionel hugged her back and did not let go. Rose finally pulled away and realized her cheeks were red.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I guess I’m just excited.”

“No apology necessary,” Lionel said quietly with a smile on his face.

They awkwardly said good-night and Lionel told her he would wake her up in the morning.

* * *

Rose lay awake in bed thinking about tomorrow’s train ride into the country to hopefully meet the woman who was her birth mother.
What will I say?
Rose wondered.
How will I tell this woman that I think I’m her daughter? Will L. G. Jenner be easy to find? And once I find her, will L.G. Jenner truly be Loretta Grigsby Jennings?

Then Rose’s mind went to the moment when she hugged Lionel. It had been awkward, but that was mostly because she had felt embarrassed. She realized that she had liked the feeling of his body against hers. And he had hugged her right back.
Gosh, what am I thinking? It’s Lionel. He’s a nice guy, but… he’s no Rodney.

There was so much to think about. Tomorrow, she might find her birth mother. Tomorrow she might find her place in life. She might find peace and love and comfort. Rose wrapped her arms around her chest.

Chapter Thirteen

Lionel knocked on
her door at four in the morning. Rose glanced toward the window and noticed that it was still quite dark outside. She blinked her eyes in the darkness of her bedroom.

“Wake up, Rose!” Lionel whispered loudly from the other side of the door. “I want to catch the five am train. Hurry up! I left a note for my parents telling them we decided to take a ride into the country, so they won’t miss us. Come on, wake up!”

“I’m up, I’m up,” Rose grumbled, lifting her tired body out of the bed. She quickly brushed her hair and teeth, and slipped into a sundress.

Twenty minutes later, they were out the door. Rose wore her rain coat, because it was still the only coat she had and the morning air was a bit chilly. Lionel grabbed her hand to hurry her along. She pressed her lips together to hide her smile as they jogged toward the nearest Tube station. It was still dark outside, but a little light was beginning to peek through the trees and from behind the shorter buildings on the streets.

As they rode on the train and spoke in quiet voices, Rose realized that Lionel looked more attractive than normal, with his dark hair swooping down over his forehead. She remembered their hug the night before and hoped that she had not blushed at the memory of it.

The train jolted to a stop.

“This is our stop,” said Lionel as he jumped out of his seat. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Let’s go.” He gently grabbed her arm and led her through the crowds and to the door. They climbed several flights of stairs up to where the aboveground trains rested, waiting all in a row to leave. Lionel purchased their tickets and they boarded the train heading North with eight minutes to spare.

By the time they left the station, the full dawn had come. Rose pressed her face against the window and smiled as the buildings became fewer and fewer and the trees more and more. Soon there were pastures and villages and cottages. This was exactly what she thought of when she thought of the English countryside. She spotted quaint and welcoming signs for towns and villages along the way: St. Albans, Luton, Toddington, Flitwick, Bedford, and Wellingborough.

Lionel was silent for most of the journey. He pointed out a few pretty scenes along the way and made a handful of polite comments, but that was all.

Rose smiled so widely that her cheeks became sore after she saw the sign for the town of Kettering.
I’m here. I’m finally here. I’m going to see my mother today. I am going to see her face to face and say to her, “It’s me! It’s me, your daughter, Rose Garnet Jennings!”

“Here we are,” Lionel said when the train stopped. Rose grabbed her purse and jumped up. She hurried away down the aisle, almost leaving Lionel behind.

“Hey, wait for me!” he called after her. Rose barely heard him.

Rose stepped off the train and into the warm morning sunlight. The long, red brick building had several tall chimneys which seemed to reach to the blue, cloudless sky. It was a perfect day. Rose breathed in the fresh, country air. Lionel caught up to her and followed as she went to the ticket counter.

“Getting the return tickets already?” Lionel asked.

“No,” said Rose with determination. “I’m sure L.G. Jenner takes the train into London sometimes. That’s where her publisher is. I already researched it. I’m just going to ask this man if he knows where she lives.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Rose stepped up to the glass window. An old man with white hair and spectacles stood in front of her. He was short and wearing a green vest.

“Pardon me, sir,” she said. “I was wondering if you knew where the children’s author, L.G. Jenner, lives.”

“L.G. Jenner,” the man repeated. “Well, I have heard that she lives around here. But I’m afraid that I have never caught a glimpse of her here in the railway station.”

Rose nodded in disappointment. “Thank you, sir.”

“So, where else should we look?” Rose asked, exasperated.

“Well, she has to buy food somewhere. So let’s ask someone in the grocery store,” Lionel suggested.

“I like that idea!” said Rose, feeling a bit more hopeful.

They wandered out into the street. They looked right and left, and saw many small shops, but no grocery store. They continued to walk, and glanced around as they did.

“Should we go left or right?” Lionel asked.

“Um, let’s try right,” suggested Rose. They walked along for several blocks until they were out of Kettering and in a nearby village called Eldershire. In Eldershire, they found a small grocery store.

Rose went in and waited in line to speak to a cashier. The women in front of her in line were babbling on about the price of hamburger beef. A man in front of them was counting a handful of coins. After several minutes, it was finally Rose’s turn in the line.

“Can I help you, miss?” the young cashier asked when she saw that Rose had no grocery items to purchase.

“Oh, yes,” said Rose. “I’m looking for the author, L.G. Jenner. Do you know where she lives?”

“Hm, L.G. Jenner,” the woman mumbled. “I do recall that she lives outside of town somewhere off of Abbotsford Road. I can’t say for certain, however.”

“That’s good enough, thank you,” Rose said, smiling, as she walked away.

“Wait,” said the girl. “I have to warn you. I’ve heard she’s a bit of a loner and that she isn’t too friendly. She might not want visitors.”

“Thank you,” said Rose, her smile fading. What if her mother refused to speak to her?

Rose found Lionel staring at the cheeses in the dairy aisle. “You hungry?” she asked when she saw him, laughing.

“Well, now that you mention it, yes,” Lionel replied. Rose told him about her findings.

“What if she won’t even answer the door for us?” she asked, her voice filled with worry.

“Let’s not even think about that,” Lionel said, touching her arm. “Let’s go find a restaurant and eat some breakfast. Maybe we can ask around a little more, as well. This Abbotsford Road could be long. Sometimes country roads are that way, you know? Seemingly endless.”

Rose smiled and nodded, even though she had never really been on a country road before and had no knowledge of such things. They walked to a restaurant next door and ordered traditional English breakfasts of hard boiled eggs, steaming hot baked beans, sliced red tomato, and crispy sausages. Rose’s stomach rumbled as the large plate was set before her. She ate hungrily.

“Slow down,” Lionel joked. “You don’t want to choke.”

Rose smiled and reached across to hit him on the arm playfully. He smiled back and shook his head.

“Admitting defeat already?” Rose glanced at him coyly.

“Well, I’m not going to hit a girl,” he told her.

“Why not? I dare you to try,” Rose challenged him.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Lionel grinned. He reached over and grabbed her wrist. “What are you going to do now?”

With all her strength, Rose pulled her arm away. “Not very strong today, are you?” She winked.

“I’m just going easy on you,” Lionel admitted.

“Well, you don’t need to,” Rose informed him. “I’m stronger than you think.”

He reached out to grab her arm and she pulled it away, laughing. Behind her, someone coughed loudly.

“We’d better stop,” she said, suddenly aware of their surroundings. “We might get kicked out of the restaurant for being disruptive.”

“Oh yes,” Lionel said with a fake British accent. “We are in jolly old England, where things must be very proper. Very proper indeed.”

“Indeed, indeed!” Rose replied with her own attempt at an accent. She lifted a bone china cup of tea to her lips with her pinky out.

Rose felt more hopeful than she had in as long as she could remember. In the next few hours, she could be standing in front of L.G. Jenner. She could be locking eyes with her birth mother, at last.