"You're growing so fast, I hardly recognize you," he said. "I'm glad you're in an all-girls school," he added, looking around and nodding, "otherwise, so many boys would be following you around I'd have to beat them off with a stick."
"Oh, Daddy."
"Come along," he said holding out his arm for me to slip mine through, "I want to hear all about your new school and new friends and everything that's happened to you since we last spoke."
He led me out to his waiting cab and we were off to dinner at an elegant restaurant. As I told him everything, he listened attentively, his eyes fixed on me as though he were trying to drink me in, memorize my face. I talked and talked, so excited that he was really here and I was really with him. His expression didn't change until I mentioned the honeymoon. Then his eyes grew smaller and his mouth tighter. He shifted his gaze and became very pensive for a few momentsre
An alarm went off in my heart because I sensed that he had something to tell me that would make me unhappy. My teeth came down on my lower lip as I waited for his words. Sadness had rained down on me so often these last few months that I had become an expert about predicting when it would fall again. Finally, he turned back to me, his smile softer, but weaker.
"I know that you are not happy, Leigh, and that your mother has taken you away from many of the things you loved and put you in a strange new world filled with impersonal, cold people who car
e only about their own comfort and wealth. I deal with the wealthy and influential on a day-to-day basis, so I know how insensitive and selfish they can be. Their money blinds them, keeps them protected and away from reality, permits them to live their illusions.
"I am sorry that all this has happened to you while you are still rather young and impressionable, and just when I am struggling to keep my business alive. Don't think it hasn't torn me apart to be away from you when you need me, too.
"My one solace is that you are bright and firm, that you come from good stock, for the VanVoreens were hardy people who overcame insurmountable odds to build their lives. We are no strangers to hardships and we have not grown soft with success. At least, you have inherited that."
Oh, how I struggled with myself, one part of me demanding I tell him the truth, what I had overheard Grandma Jana say to Momma and what she had admitted, and another part of me screaming not to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt. Also, I was terrified of what the truth might do to his love for me. What if he stopped thinking of me as his daughter? Would he stop loving me? If he did I knew I would never survive, that it would be the last and worst blow of all I had received in the past several months. I could only smile and nod and reach across the table to take his hand into mine and reassure him that I would be his daughter, a true VanVoreen.
"Anyway," he said, coming to the bad news, "I have to tell you that I won't be able to see you for a while. I am opening an office in Europe to try to capture the growing European market for travelers who want to come not only to America, but also travel to the vacation spots I have been establishing with my travel experts.
"It's a mistake, you see, to think that only Americans have money and opportunity for luxurious vacations."
"What do you mean you won't see me for a while, Daddy? How long?"
"I won't be back until the summer at the soonest," he confessed. "But as soon as I do return, we'll spend as much time together as you want. I promise."
A lump came to choke my throat. The tears I trapped in the corners of my eyes burned with their demand to break free and stream down my cheeks. How could I stand it if Daddy, my rock, was gone for so long? With Momma becoming so very selfcentered and unreliable, to whom could I go for advice, for love, for the warmth of hugs and kisses? I forced myself to be the strong daughter he wanted, to be the VanVoreen descendant he believed I was.
"I'll keep writing you letters, of course," he said quickly, "and hope you'll keep writing letters to me."
"I will, Daddy."
"And as soon as I know when I will return, I will make arrangements for you to meet me." He patted my hand.
We rode back to Winterhaven sitting very close to each other in the back of the taxi, Daddy's arm around me. I listened to him tell me about his travels, the things he had seen and the people he had met, but I didn't hear his words, just the rhythms of his voice.
Instead, I was thinking about the Daddy I knew as a little girl, the Daddy who had lifted me on his shoulders to carry me along the Thames river when we toured London, the Daddy who took me in his arms and danced with me in the ballroom of his ship, the Daddy who held my hand and took me about the luxury liners, introducing me to his crews, showing me how things worked, kissing and hugging me and twirling my hair in his fingers when I sat on his lap.
That Daddy was gone, I thought, almost as gone as Jennifer Longstone's Daddy. We weren't so different, she and I, and when we lay awake at night telling stories about our childhood days, we were both thinking about times we would never see again, moments we would never have, words we would never hear, kisses and smiles that were as thin as smoke, running off into our memories and lost forever in the maze of storm clouds that had come to block out the blue sky of happiness we had both once known.
Daddy kissed me in front of the school. He kissed me goodbye and hugged me to him and told me again that he would write and think of me all the time, but I knew the moment he got into his cab and started away that his mind was already racing around with the problems of his business. I didn't hate him for it; I knew he was burying himself in his work to keep himself from being unhappy.
Jennifer was waiting in our room. She wanted to hear all the wonderful details about my dinner with Daddy. I knew she wanted to experience the happiness through me and perhaps recall the happy times she had with her own father. So I didn't tell her one sad thing. I went on and on about the restaurant and the food and the promises Daddy had made. I told her about the funny waiter who spoke in a German accent so thick that I ordered the wrong things, but ate them anyway; and anyway, they were delicious. It didn't matter because I was with Daddy, I said. Jennifer laughed.
"Thank you for telling me about your dinner, Leigh," she said. "Good night."
"Good night."
Jennifer curled up with my happy memories and I turned my back to her and cried as softly as I could, until sleep rescued me from harder tears.
twelve MORE SURPRISES
. All the girls in the "special club" knew Tony was picking me up on Friday, so they all accompanied me to the front stoopof Winterhaven and crowded about me like hens. I was so embarrassed by what they might do and say that I was down the steps before Tony was out of the car and opening the door.
"See you Sunday night, Leigh!" a chorus of voices sang out. Then, ringing with giggles, they scampered back up the steps and into Beecham Hall.
"Well," Tony cut his eyes toward me, then smiled as we were driven off, "looks like I was right--you made a lot of friends fast. Did you enjoy the rest of the week here?"