"I don't want to go with you to Maine," I snapped. "Now Leigh . ." Daddy raised his eyebrows.
"I don't care."
"But you should care," Daddy said. "If you want to be considered a young lady, you have to show some courtesy," he chastised. Mildred stared at me, her eyes cold. I looked down at my menu. My chest felt so heavy. It was as though it were filling up with the tears that had built behind my eyes.
"Now then," my father said, "what would you like to eat? Leigh?"
"You should think about the London broil," Mildred said.
"I hate London broil," I blurted, "and I hate being here, and I hate you."
I couldn't help it. It all just rushed out over my tongue, and once the words had escaped, there was no turning back. I got up from the table and ran from the dining room, ran through the hotel lobby and out the front door. Miles was asleep in the front seat of the limousine. I woke him when I banged on the window. He sat up quickly, shocked by the tears streaming down my face.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"Take me back to Farthy," I said getting in. "I want to go back."
"But . ."
"Please, take me home."
He started the engine. I looked out the side window and saw Daddy on the front steps looking for me. He didn't see the limousine until Miles backed out of the parking spot. Then he charged down the steps.
"Leigh!" he called. Miles began to slow down.
"Just drive, Miles," I commanded in my mother's sharp tone of voice. He obeyed and the car surged forward away from the hotel. I looked back once and saw my father standing in the center of the parking lot, his hands on his hips. Coming up behind him was his precious new wife. I turned away and cried so hard my ribs ached. By the time we arrived at Farthy, I was feeling drained and exhausted.
I ran up the steps and into the house, not pausing a second before rushing up the stairs to my suite. Once there, I threw myself on my bed. I didn't think I had a single tear left but I cried again, cried a waterfall of tears until I cried myself to sleep. I felt myself being shaken and awoke to find Troy at my side. He was dressed in his little sailor's outfit. I sat up and wiped my eyes. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and saw that my cheeks were tear streaked.
"Didn't you have a good time with your daddy?" Troy asked.
"Oh Troy." I moaned and embraced him to me.
"What's wrong, Leigh?" He looked up at me with his eyes big, inquisitive and concerned. "Why were you crying?"
"My daddy's not the same, Troy. He has a new wife." Troy fluttered his eyelashes. I could almost hear his thoughts.
"You have another Mommy?"
"No. She's not my mommy; NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!"
He stared at me. He had no mother and no father. It was not hard to understand why he was confused by my anger. I was sure he wished he had the chance to have a new mother and father and here I was throwing a new mother back as if she were a fish too small.
"My daddy doesn't love me as much as he did before," I explained. "His new wife has her own family and he has new children, too."
Troy's eyes brightened with some
understanding. He nodded.
"You want to come play with my electric train?" he asked, hoping to cheer me up. I smiled and kissed him. Oddly enough, I was suddenly very hungry. My emotional turmoil had drained me, but now my stomach churned. I had been too nervous at breakfast to eat much, and of course, I ran out of the restaurant before a thing was served.
"I'll just go down to the kitchen and ask Rye to make me something for lunch," I told him. "Then come play with you."
"I'll come with you," he offered. He waited while I washed my face, scrubbing away the lines drawn by tears and pain. I ran the brush through my hair, took his hand, and started out just as my telephone rang. It was my father.
"Leigh, please don't hang up," he said quickly, anticipating my first thought. "Will you listen to me?" he asked when I didn't reply.
"Yes, I'll listen, Daddy."