She unwrapped it quickly.
   "I just love gifts, love surprises, no matter how
   much they cost. Tony's like that, too. He wants to give
   me something new and beautiful every day of our
   lives together," she squealed. Because of my promises
   I tried as hard s I could not to harden myself against
   her newfound happiness. She looked down at the
   hand-painted scarf. "Oh, this is great, Leigh. How
   clever of you to pick it out. It will go with so many of
   my outfits. I'm sorry I wasn't there with you, but I will
   make it up to you in a thousand ways. You'll see." "I bought Daddy a hand-carved cane," I said
   softly.
   "That's nice." She went into her bathroom to run her water. I stood there for a moment listening to
   her hum to herself and then left.
   Daddy arrived shortly before dinner. Momma
   was still in her suite talking to her friends on the
   telephone and doing her nails and hair. I still hadn't
   had an opportunity to tell her about the Spenser sisters
   and Fulton and Raymond, but I expected to tell her
   everything at dinner. Suddenly, I heard the front door
   open and heard Clarence say, "Hello, Mr.
   VanVoreen."
   Daddy! I thought and jumped up. He was
   already in his office, gathering some papers. " Daddy!"
   "Hello Leigh. All settled back, are you?" "Yes. Momma's here. She's upstairs." "I see." He went back to his papers quickly. "Are you staying here for a while?" I felt so
   sorry for him. He looked tired and worn, older than
   ever, and I kept thinking how much worse it would be
   for him once he learned about Momma's love for
   Tony Tatterton. Maybe he still held on to some hope,
   like I had, even though she had gotten the divorce. "No, Leigh. I've got to get back to the office
   and prepare for my next journey."
   "But where will you sleep tonight?"
   "I have rooms at the Hilton. You must not
   worry about me. I want you to take good care of
   yourself and . . ." His eyes rose as if he could see
   through the ceiling into Momma's suite. "And your
   mother." He went back to his papers, sorted through
   folders, opened file cabinet drawers, and began to fill
   a briefcase.
   I sat on the leather settee watching him, and I
   felt terrible. I felt as though I were betraying him by
   not telling him what I knew about Momma and Tony. I felt split in half. If I smiled at Momma or felt
   good with her, I couldn't help feeling guilty, feeling
   that I was hurting Daddy; and the same was true if I
   smiled at him and felt good with him. Momma would
   hate me. She would certainly hate me if I told him any
   of her secrets. What was Ito do?
   Daddy saw the troubled look on my face. "Now, now," he said. "You must not do this to
   yourself. I told you, once we're through the storm, it
   will be clear sailing again. Button up against the wind.
   Be hearty. You've been around sailors and seamen too
   long to be anything else."
   "I'll try, Daddy."
   "That's my girl. Well," he said looking about, "I
   guess I have what I need for now." He closed his briefcase. My heart began to pound. I didn't think I had the strength in my legs to stand up. He started around his desk and then stopped abruptly, the expression on his face changing quickly from a soft, loving one, to a look of firmness, even anger. I spun
   around. Momma was standing in the doorway. "Hello, Cleave," she said.
   "I've just come by to get some of my papers." "I'm glad you did," she said. "There are some
   matters to discuss. I was going to leave them for later,
   but perhaps this is as good a time as ever."
   "Yes," he said.
   "Leigh, would you excuse us for a while,
   please," Momma said and then smiled coldly. I looked
   at Daddy. He nodded and suddenly my legs that had
   felt like two overcooked pieces of spaghetti found
   their firmness again and I got up and rushed out of the
   office. I turned back to see Momma close the door. I wanted to go back and put my ear to it, but I
   was afraid they would find me there.
   It seemed like hours, but finally Momma came
   in to get me. I looked behind her, anticipating Daddy
   too. Maybe, somehow they had worked out their
   differences and they were going to give our family
   another chance. Maybe Daddy had said some magical things and they had both thought about their early days together when they were so much in love. I
   waited for the words; I prayed for them.
   "I bet you're famished," Momma said. "I know
   I am."
   "Is Daddy going to eat with us?" I asked
   hopefully.
   "No, it's just like old times," she said dryly.
   "He's off to his shipyards."
   "Off? Did he leave?" 1 cried. Oh, surely, he
   didn't leave without saying goodbye, without giving
   me a last kiss.
   "Yes, he's gone. Let's go to dinner." She turned
   away.
   But he can't be gone, my brain screamed. Not
   without saying goodbye. I hurried out behind her, but
   instead of going straight to the dining room, I went to
   his office.
   The door was closed and when I opened it, I
   looked into a dark room. Momma waited in the
   hallway. I spun around, the tears streaming down my
   face.
   "Where is he?"
   "I told you, Leigh. He left."
   "But he didn't . . he didn't kiss me goodbye," I
   bawled.
   "He wasn't in the mood to kiss anyone. Now
   please, honey. Pull yourself together. Go wash your
   face. Freshen up. We don't want to show the servants
   we're unhappy, do we? After you have something in
   your stomach, you will feel a lot better anyway. I'm
   sure."
   "I'm not hungry," I cried. I ran to the staircase.
   "Leigh!"
   I didn't turn back. I couldn't, II ran up the stairs
   and into my room. I rushed to my window to look out
   in hopes of catching sight of Daddy leaving the house,
   but the street below was empty, the street lights
   casting long, dark and lonely shadows over the
   sidewalks.
   I clenched my hands into fists to grind away my
   eyes and then I looked about my room. I looked at all
   the things I had that reminded me of Daddy, looked at
   his picture, looked at the models of ships. It was over.
   This life I had known had passed on into that empty
   night below.
   Daddy had a saying when he met someone new,
   especially someone he liked.
   "Let's not be like two ships passing in the night.
   Call again. Stop by."
   Oh Daddy, I thought, will we now become like
   two ships passing in the night?
   One day slipped into another. I returned to
   school and described my Jamaican trip to all my
   girlfriends. Everyone was interested in my stories
   about Fulton and Raymond, and a week after I had
   returned home, I received a nice letter from Raymond.
   I brought it with me to school to show my friends,
   especially the ones who had looked skeptical when I
   had told them about the two older boys who said I
   could pass for a high school girl.
					     					 			br />   Most of Raymond's letter was about his work at
   school, but he did say how much he had enjoyed
   spending time with me, and at the end, he signed it,
   "Fondly, Raymond."
   Toward the end of the first week, Daddy called
   to tell me about his plans for his next voyage. There
   was a lot of noise around him in his office, and even
   though it was a short talk, we were interrupted several
   times. He said he would try to write or call as soon as
   he reached the Canary Islands. Oh, how I missed him
   and how I tried not to hate Momma for driving him
   out of my life.
   A few nights later, Momma came into my room
   to announce that we were going to go to Farthinggale
   Manor for Thanksgiving dinner.
   "It's going to be the most magnificent
   Thanksgiving dinner we ever had. Many of Tony's
   wealthy friends will be there and he's even invited
   Patrick and Clarissa Darrow, the publishers of my
   illustrations, and of course, Elizabeth Deveroe, the
   decorator, and her husband, so there will be people we
   already know. Isn't that nice?"
   "But we've always had Thanksgiving here,
   Momma." It hadn't occurred to me until just this
   moment that Daddy wouldn't be home and with us for
   Thanksgiving. It would be the first time, for no matter
   where his business took him or what he had to do, he
   always managed to be home for Thanksgiving. "I know, but I want to be with Tony and he has
   a large affair every year. We'll have pheasant, instead
   of turkey, and champagne, and desserts beyond
   imagination. You remember how well his chef
   cooks."
   "But it won't be Thanksgiving without a
   turkey."
   "Oh, there will be so many other delectable
   things, you'll never miss it. I know what we'll do," she
   continued, "we'll buy new dresses, just for the
   occasion."
   "But I haven't worn many of the things you
   bought me for my birthday yet."
   "This is different," she said turning slowly and
   thinking. "We need to stand out . . . Get your coat,"
   she said suddenly, her face lit with excitement. "We're
   going to Andre's Boutique and pick out something
   original for both of us."
   "But Momma . . ." I knew that dresses and
   gowns at Andre's began somewhere around eight
   hundred dollars and went as high as ten thousand.
   "Can we afford it now that Daddy's . . . Daddy's not
   here?"
   "Of course, we can. Your father is still
   responsible for all our expenses," she replied firmly.
   "Until I remarry. Then, he's just responsible for yours,
   not that you will need to worry. Tony is very
   generous. Come on," she said beckoning. "Let's get
   started."
   Momma bought a black velvet dress with
   spaghetti straps and a wide charcoal silk belt. She
   wore black satin elbow-length gloves. She put on her
   biggest diamond necklace and matching pear-shaped
   diamond earrings.
   For me she bought a beautiful aqua-colored
   dress in an airy fabric. I never felt so dressed up for a
   Thanksgiving dinner.
   Tony sent Miles in his limousine to pick us up
   early in the afternoon, but he had to sit in the hallway
   and wait for at least an additional forty-five minutes
   for Momma to finish with her hair and makeup.
   Finally, wearing her sable fur piece, she came down
   the stairs. Never had her hair looked as soft or
   gleamed as brightly. I saw by the way Miles rose from
   his seat that he was stunned by her beauty. I thought
   she looked just like a movie star.
   How I wished Daddy could be here to see her, I
   thought, but then I thought that would only bring him
   more pain because she was so beautiful and she was
   gone from his life.
   "How do I look?" she asked me and spun
   around.
   "Prettier than anyone."
   "Oh honey, thank you. And you look beautiful
   too. We're going to dazzle everyone," she added, and
   we went out to the limousine.
   During the trip to Farthy, she told me about
   some of Tony's friends she had met. Everyone seemed
   to be known by what business or profession he was in. "And wait until you see their wives," she said.
   "With all their wealth and position, they don't know very much about fashion and makeup. You and I will stand out like, . . like roses in a bed of weeds." She
   grabbed and hugged me. As sad as 1 felt going to a -Thanksgiving dinner without Daddy, I couldn't help but be fascinated by the way Momma spoke to me. She was acting more like my older sister than my Mother. I felt, perhaps for the first time in my life, that she was treating me like her closest friend.
   "Now don't be nervous just because these people have so much money. You will see they aren't so clever when it comes to socializing. When they ask you a question, answer politely, but don't offer more information than they request. Men appreciate women who are not talkative and gossipy around the dinner table. Men like to dominate the conversations with their talk of politics and business."
   "But Daddy was never like that." Poor Daddy, I thought, with no family around him, out on the ocean on one of his ships, having a Thanksgiving dinner with strangers.
   "Don't look so sad," Momma advised. "You are so pretty when you smile."
   Mrs. Deveroe and her husband and the Darrows were already there when we arrived. Everyone said Momma and I looked like sisters. The men made me feel very grown up with their compliments and approving eyes, and Mamma entered the great house as if she were the queen arriving. There were servants everywhere, just waiting to do her bidding--take her and my coats, show us into the music room where the others were already gathered, and get us some champagne punch.
   "Jillian! You're finally here," Tony cried coming quickly to greet us at the entryway to the music room. He took her hand into his and gazed into her eyes, his blue eyes burning with love and appreciation. "You are undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I don't think I'll ever tire of saying it." I had thought all morning about how much I hated Tony but now a warm, electric feeling shot through my body. I had never been so close to anything so romantic. It was as if I had stepped into a movie, and I couldn't take my eyes off the two of them. No one in the room could. There was a great pause, as though we were all sighing, and then everyone burst out into conversation. Tony turned his heavenly blue eyes to me.
   "And Leigh, you look very beautiful too. I'm so lucky to have both of you here. Farthinggale Manor will sparkle as it never has." He scooped our arms into his, placing himself between us, but I stood as stiffly as I could, touched him as little as possible, hoping to hurt him as he introduced us to everyone.
   Little Troy sat in a huge cushioned easy chair in the corner, his feet dangling over the edge. He looked lost and alone, but so cute in his tiny tuxedo and black tie. As soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up.
   "Hi, Troy. Happy Thanksgiving." I shook his little hand.
   "Hi. Tony says you're going to come here to live and be my big sister now. Are you? Are you really?" I had to smile at his enthusiasm, even though the words he spoke were still so alien and so frightening to me.
   "Yes, it looks that way, Troy."
   "Good. I have so many things to show you, secret things," he added in a whisper, his eyes turning to be sure no one overheard.
   When the time .eh, ea for all of us  
					     					 			to go into the great dining room and around the long table, Troy and I indeed sat beside each other. Momma sat on Tony's right and I sat on his left with Troy on my left. There were thirty-three people for dinner. I had never seen so many people at a dining room table.
   At the center was a great chopped liver swan. There were large goblets for wine and settings of Wedgwood china with little figures and country scenes on them. The silver was heavy, but sparkling bright with floral designs. The heavy blue napkins had an embroidered F. M. done in white thread.
   After a while Momma began to announce her plans for her and Tony's wedding.
   "It will be like a royal coronation," she said and followed it with a trail of laughter. But then she elaborated. "The invitation will become a collector's item, for I am designing it myself, based upon one of the illustrations I've done for Darrow Publishing," she added and nodded toward the Darrows.
   "We're going to have a twenty-six-piece orchestra and flowers flown in from South America and Tony has come up with a wonderful added touch. Tell them, Tony."
   "Well, you're ruining the surprise," he said gently and smiled. "But I suppose it's all right since these are special friends tonight. I'm having a commemorative Tatterton Toy created for each and every guest. It has the date of our wedding carved into it."
   "It's a wonderful idea." Momma beamed. "Two figures modeled after us . . ." She reached for the hand of her handsome young husband-to-be. ". . dancing on the top of the world."
   Everyone "oohed" their appreciation. Even I had been taken by surprise, hearing it for the first time. Tony tried to catch my eye with his own intense ones, but I looked away. How easily Momma had captured the whole table's attention, I thought. They all looked envious--men, envious of Tony's having her as his wife; women, envious of Momma's beauty and exuberance.
   These plans for the wedding did sound exciting and glamorous, but even now, even at this
   Thanksgiving dinner table at Farthy that seemed so far away from our intimate family Thanksgivings of the past, I couldn't help but feel alone and lost.
   Plans and details of the wedding dominated the conversation for the rest of the dinner. Little Troy got a faceful of whipped cream when he dipped into the chocolate cream pie. I laughed and wiped his mouth.
   After dinner everyone returned to the music room. Troy asked me to go to his playroom to help him color his drawings. When we got there and I saw that he had created the pictures himself, I stared in amazement. He was remarkably talented for a small child. There were pictures of the great house and the grounds and some pictures of grounds people.
   "This is Henderson and this is Margaret Stone and this is Edgar." He pointed at his different drawings.