With tears streaming from her eyes, she returned her mother’s hug. “Mama,” she cried. “Oh, Mama. I’ve missed you so much.”
Earl cleared his throat and stepped up to Marilyn and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “If I may interrupt this tender scene, I would like to know where you have been, and why you have chosen to return now,” he said hoarsely.
Her brilliant red hair swirled into a chignon atop her head, her vivaciously clear, green eyes sparkling, Marilyn swung away from Elizabeth and smiled up at Earl. “Hello, Earl,” she said, extending a gloved hand. “It’s been a long time.”
Earl gazed down at the extended hand for a moment, then lifted his hand and clasped his fingers around hers. “A damn sight longer than is decent,” he said in a growl. Then he did something that made Elizabeth gasp. He gathered Marilyn into his arms and held her in a tight embrace. “Damn it, Marilyn, why’d you have to disappear on us? Did I make life that unbearable for you? If so, I’m sorry. Damn sorry.”
Elizabeth placed a hand over her mouth, to try and stifle her sobs as tears washed across her face. For so long she had wanted her parents to reunite, but had never counted on it. Especially after they had moved from San Francisco. That Marilyn was now here stunned her. But the fact that both her mother and father seemed genuinely happy to see each other again seemed to make all the wrongs right.
Marilyn eased from Earl’s embrace. She was still a beautiful woman. Her magnificent breasts strained against the silk fabric of her pale green dress, and the gathered full skirt emphasized her tiny waist. “There’s so much to say,” Marilyn said with a soft purr. “Let’s go inside. Frannie has prepared tea.”
Marilyn turned back to Elizabeth and placed her hands to her cheeks. “Darling, when I heard that you and your father had moved just outside of Seattle, and that you had been abducted, I just had to come and see your father about it,” she said. “A team of wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”
Again she hugged Elizabeth. “But you’re all right,” she whispered. “My baby is all right.”
She stepped back and looked Elizabeth slowly up and down, puzzlement in her eyes. “A buckskin dress?” she asked. “Isn’t that what Indians wear?” Her eyes focused on Elizabeth. “Have you been with Indians, Elizabeth?”
“Yes, ma’am, I have,” Elizabeth said, lifting her chin proudly. “And, Mama, I’m soon to marry one.”
“What?” Marilyn gasped, placing a hand to her throat. “An Indian? You are marrying an Indian?”
“Don’t make it sound like I’m about to commit a crime, Mama,” Elizabeth said, her eyes flashing. “If you want to talk about crimes, what you did—”
A sudden presence at the door stopped Elizabeth’s outburst. She caught sight of Maysie, then rushed to her and hugged her. “Maysie,” she said, clinging tightly to her. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Your mother asked me to direct her to your house,” Maysie said softly, smiling as Elizabeth stepped back and clasped one of Maysie’s hands.
“Mama?” Elizabeth asked, giving her mother a quick glance, then looking again at Maysie and seeing the modesty of her attire. It was not anything like the skimpy dress that Maysie had been wearing the last time Elizabeth had seen her. Today she wore a pretty cotton dress trimmed with eyelet lace. “How do you know my mother?”
“I work for her,” Maysie said matter-of-factly, smiling at Marilyn. “She’s given me a home, food, clothes, and a reason to continue living.”
Earl went to Marilyn and tilted her chin up with a forefinger. “What does she mean?” he said ominously. “Where do you live? And what sort of establishment do you run?”
Marilyn’s smile faded along with her courage. “Please let us go inside,” she murmured. “I . . . I . . . shall explain everything then.”
Earl nodded, and placed a hand at Marilyn’s elbow, ushering her past Maysie and Elizabeth, and on inside. Elizabeth and Maysie followed. They were soon sitting comfortably before a roaring fire in the fireplace, and sipping tea. Frannie stood by the door, marveling over Elizabeth being home again.
“Start from the beginning. Marilyn,” Earl said, lighting a cigar, flicking the match into the curling flames of the heart
h. “For years now my imagination has conjured up many things that may have happened to you. But never did I envision you living in Seattle. It’s just recently become somewhat more civilized. Before, it was just men and whores in this town.”
The cigar almost popped from between his lips as he spoke the word “whores.” He blanched at the thought of what Marilyn might tell him.
He looked at her, marking that she had not aged hardly a year since he had last seen her. He remembered her in bed—how she had seemed to have had experience way beyond what he had taught her—his virginal wife—on their wedding night. She had seemed to know skills of lovemaking that would make a church mouse blush.
He had to wonder if she had since improved her skills.
Now, after seeing her again, he knew that he still loved and adored her with all of his being, and he would have her back in a minute, should she offer herself to him.
Elizabeth sat with her back straight on the sofa, Maysie beside her, both listening intently as Marilyn started to speak. Elizabeth’s heart cried out to her mother the more her mother tried desperately to explain.
“Earl, you know how it hurt me every time you left to travel to the Orient, and other strange places, leaving me behind to sleep alone at night,” she began, giving Elizabeth an uneasy glance.
She cleared her throat nervously, then looked at Earl again. “Earl, you seemed to have forgotten that you had a wife,” she said, near tears. “I couldn’t bear those lonely nights any longer. I . . . saw . . . no choice but to leave. I came to Seattle to seek a new way of life and earned top dollar in a brothel. I saved my money to buy my own place. Earl, I am now madam of the classiest brothel in Seattle. Maysie works for me there.”
There was a sudden silence in the room. Then Earl rose from the chair and went to the fireplace and placed his arm on the mantel, leaning his brow against it.
Wide-eyed, and choked up, Elizabeth watched as her mother went to her father and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Earl, it’s not that bad,” she said softly. “Please. It’s not that bad. I am respected. Truly I am.”