“These are my least favorite of all court hearings,” the judge began in a solemn voice. “And although it isn’t easy, I try to make decisions that are just and in the best interest of everyone.” He cleared his throat and Allison wished he’d get to it. She peeked over at her father and saw him smile at her.
“In the case of Allison Mercury O’Brian, she is a lucky child to have two parents who love her so and want to take care of her. But I have decided in this case, and in the case of so many others, that a child is usually best left in the hands of the mother—”
No, it can’t be true, she cried inwardly. There must be some kind of mistake. She looked over at Marsha and saw a smile of satisfaction spread across her face. “Don’t you care about what I want?” Allison screamed, but her voice was nearly lost in the courtroom noise, and the gavel came down with a resounding crash.
“Order! Order!” The judge looked directly at Allison and she hoped he was going to allow her to speak, but instead he continued. “As I was saying, I have decided to allow Marsha Madison to continue in the care and custody of Allison Mercury O’Brian. I do suggest, for the sake of the child, that some sort of visitation schedule be arranged between both parents and their legal counsel.” He pounded his gavel and adjourned the court, leaving through a little door in the back.
Allison wanted to follow him and demand that he hear her side. What right had he to decide? Her head began to swim and tears blurred her eyes. She sat down and put her hands over her face. Was this God’s answer to her prayers? She couldn’t believe it! All around her, Marsha’s friends and acquaintances were shaking hands and congratulating Marsha.
“She’ll be okay,” Marsha said. “It’s been so difficult on her—I’m so glad this is all over. Now we can get on with our lives, or at least try to.” Marsha groaned, then said quietly to Stanley, “In moments, the whole world will know that Marsha Madison has a daughter!”
Allison suddenly remembered her father. She stood and looked and saw him at the table with his head bowed down in his hands. Grace sat at his side with tears streaming down her face. Allison slipped through the crowd almost unnoticed.
“Dad,” she began, then choked. He stood and hugged her.
“I’m so sorry, Allison. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what went wrong. I can’t believe it! I thought for sure the judge would see—”
“Hello, James,” Marsha said coolly from behind Allison. “No reason for us to act uncivilized now, is there? I’m sorry for your disappointment, but like the judge said, maybe we can arrange a visitation schedule. I’m not one to be unreasonable, you know.”
James’ jaw twitched in anger. “What did you have in mind, Marsha? Two weeks every summer?”
“Oh, I’m sure we can work out something—something that will make everyone happy. Look, James, we’re going up to the Cape right now. Why don’t you and your friend come on out and join us, and we’ll work something out. I really think for Allison’s sake it’s time to bury the hatchet and be civilized adults. Don’t you?” She extended her hand in truce. James scowled and looked at her suspiciously, then over to Allison. Allison forced a smile and shrugged, and James halfheartedly shook Marsha’s hand.
“Fine,” Marsha said. “We’re leaving right away. We’ll see you later tonight, then?”
“Are you sure your mother wants our company?” James asked. “You know she’s never welcomed me before.”
“James, you of all people should know to never take Mother too seriously.” Marsha smiled in that funny way and poked James in the arm, almost in a flirtatious manner.
“I brought along a bottle of champagne to celebrate our victory,” Stanley announced as they climbed into the limousine.
“And what made you so sure we’d need it?” Marsha asked lightly.
“Oh, just a wild guess.”
Allison tried to ignore them while they joked and laughed like a couple of giddy kids, all the gaiety at her expense. She couldn’t believe they’d be her parents from now on.
Late in the afternoon, they stopped for dinner at a lobster house in Rhode Island. Allison ate quickly and returned to the car. She curled up in a corner and closed her eyes, pretending it was all just a bad dream and she’d wake up in Oregon.
“Allison, we’re here,” Marsha said.
It was dark out, and Allison stumbled from the car and into the brightly lit house. She immediately recognized the polished green marble floor in the entry of Grandmother Madison’s sprawling mansion. Gerald, the old butler, met them solemnly at the door.
“Mrs. Madison has retired for the evening, but I’ll show you to your rooms.” Allison followed as Marsha and Stanley were led down the north hall, then Gerald took her to a guest room in the west wing. She’d never stayed in a guest room here before. Grandmother usually put her in her old bed up in the nursery, which suited her just fine.
“Are you sure Grandmother wants me in here?” Allison asked, looking around the room. Gerald nodded. Allison shook her head and set her suitcase by the big four-poster bed. It was odd being treated like a guest. Usually she felt like excess baggage, always in the way as far as Grandmother Madison was concerned. Could there be hope for this side of her family after all?
Allison slipped down the stairs and into the drawing room that overlooked the driveway. She wanted to keep watch for when Dad and Grace came. She hoped they wouldn’t change their minds. It might be her only chance to see them before . . . She wouldn’t allow herself to think about that. She didn’t want to accept the outcome of the trial yet. She stared blankly out the window. All was dark outside. The main road couldn’t be seen from here, but she kept imagining them driving up in a rented car. She’d rush out and greet them.
When it was well after midnight and there was still no sign of them, she tiptoed back to bed. The sheets were like ice and she shivered. Tears of frustration slid down her cheeks, and out of habit she began to pray just like she’d done each night since camp. She’d always prayed to live with her dad at Tamaqua Point, but she couldn’t pray that anymore. God hadn’t answered her prayers, so why should she ask Him for anything else? She rolled over in anger and wept.
The next morning dawned, and for the first time in her life she didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to see Grandmother Madison or Stanley’s and Marsha’s triumphant faces. She trudged downstairs quietly and slipped out a side door and into the garden. The flowers had already started to die, and a crisp breeze blew off the Atlantic. She sat down on a bench and stared at the large stone house. Grandpa’s house in Oregon was stone, too, but his had such an interesting shape. Grandmother Madison’s was just long and sprawling, with dozens of high windows staring blankly across the grounds like empty eyes. She knew it had been in the Madison family for generations, but she’d never belonged here and didn’t want to now.
A horn honked in the driveway, and she looked up to see an arm waving from the window of a bright yellow car. It was Grace and Dad. She dashed over to them.
“I thought you weren’t coming!” she yelled.
“We decided not to come last night because it was getting so late. But even an army of Grandmother Madisons couldn’t keep me away from you anymore.” James laughed with a trace of sadness still in his eyes.
“Thank you for coming. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again! Come on—have you had breakfast?” Allison hopped in and rode with them up the driveway, then happily led them into the dining room as if she owned the house herself. Let Grandmother Madison fuss and fume, she didn’t care.
“Hello, Grandmother,” Allison announced lightly to the staunch old woman at the head of the table. “We have two guests for breakfast. Of course, you already know my dad. And this is my friend Grace. Grace, this is Mrs. Madison.”
For a change Grandmother’s acidic tongue was speechless. She just blinked and motioned to the empty chairs, not bothering to rise.
A maid Allison had never met served them eggs and sausage without batting an eyelash, as if people always
dropped in out of the blue for breakfast.
“Did you have a good drive?” Allison asked, taking the role of hostess.
“It was lovely, Allison,” Grace said. “Such a nice stretch of coast. It’s different from the West Coast. And you have a simply beautiful place here, Mrs. Madison.”
“Thank you,” Grandmother Madison said stiffly.
“It was so hospitable of you to have us, and on such short notice.”
Grandmother Madison grunted without even looking up from her egg cup. Allison felt embarrassed by her grandmother’s lack of manners. This was the same grandmother who’d always lectured on things like etiquette, protocol, and good breeding.
“If you’d like, I could show you around the place after breakfast,” Allison offered. Grandmother Madison ignored her, but Allison didn’t care. “There’s a neat carriage house with some old buggies, and the stables are really nice. Grandfather Madison used to have lots of race horses—I can barely remember, but they were pretty. I think there are still a couple horses around.”
They finished breakfast and Allison quickly scooted them outside, thankful Marsha and Stanley weren’t up yet. “Phew,” Allison breathed as soon as they were on their way to the carriage house. “It was a little too stuffy in there for me—if you know what I mean.”
Allison opened the door to the carriage house. Inside were old cars and buggies, a pot-bellied stove, and a few ancient easy chairs gathered around. Allison held her hands over the crackling stove.
“Looks like Harmon has already been here this morning. He’s the caretaker. This used to be Grandfather Madison’s favorite getaway—I think he used to run away from Grandmother Madison in here. I suppose Harmon mostly uses it now.”
They all sat down in the chairs, and Allison studied them both. Their faces looked tired and sad, and she knew it was due to her.
James rubbed his hands over the stove and stared at the harnesses hanging on the wall. Allison leaned back and breathed in the pungent smell of the musty room. It always reminded her of when she was a tiny girl. Grandfather Madison used to bring her in here while he smoked his pipe and read the paper. She would play with a big box of harness rings and odd pieces of shiny metal.
“I haven’t given up, Allison. I still have a plan,” James said with conviction in his eyes. “I want to appeal yesterday’s decision. My lawyer has suggested I sue Marsha for defamation of character, and I think if I fight hard enough, I can win.” His jaw grew firm, and he punched his fist into his open palm like a boxer getting ready for the fight.
Allison looked over to Grace. Her head hung sadly, and Allison wondered what Grace thought of his plan. “How long do you think it’ll take?” she asked.
“Well, my lawyer thinks realistically it’ll be nearly a year before we gather enough evidence to take it to court.”
“And what will you do during that time? Are you . . . will you be getting, you know . . . married?” Allison didn’t know how to ask. Grace looked up and started to say something, but James cut her off.
“We do plan to marry. But I would have to stay in New York awhile to do some research.” Grace’s face grew grim, and Allison knew she was worried.
“What do you think of all this, Grace?” Allison asked.
“Allison, you know I want whatever it takes to get you back home with us—if that’s what you really want. I have to admit it would be hard seeing James stay in New York. That’s where I lost him in the first place. . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Dad, do you realize by the time it goes to court I’d be nearly sixteen? Marsha only has custody of me until I’m eighteen. Is it really worth it to go through all this?” It made her miserable to think of Grace and Dad and how they’d be putting their lives on hold for her—not to mention Andrew, Heather, and Winston. Allison knew in her heart they should be a family. Grace needed Dad right now, probably even more than Allison did.
“Allison, it’d still be worth it,” James argued. “You are my only flesh and blood. You belong with me. Don’t you want to live with us in Oregon?”
Allison looked down at the bleached floorboards polished smooth over the years. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know if it’s worth it,” she lied.
“What? Do you mean it? Allison, after all you went through to stay in Oregon—you don’t think it’s worth it?” James ran his fingers through his hair and stood. Allison couldn’t look at him, and he paced back and forth across the shadowy room.
“It’s not that I don’t love you,” she began. “But maybe we should just try to make the best of it. Marsha sounds willing to let me visit you. And Los Angeles isn’t all that far away. . . .”
“Do you really want that, Allison? Do you really want me to give up?” He looked straight into her face and she nodded. Tears filled her eyes and she knew it was a lie, but she was tired of ruining other people’s lives. James shook his head in disbelief and collapsed into the chair.
Grace leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee. “James, you never stopped to consider that Allison may have feelings for Marsha, too. They spent a lot of time together this summer—remember the letters? I think this is the closest Allison has ever been to her mother.”
“Is that true, Allison?” James asked. “Because no matter what I think of Marsha, I wouldn’t try to come between you two if I believed it’s what you really wanted.”
“I think it’s best,” Allison said quietly.
James walked over to a dusty window and looked out across the grounds. “Well, I have to admit, Allison, you do have quite a heritage here. The Madisons of Massachusetts are an influential family. You’ll never go without. I certainly can’t compete with their wealth, nor Marsha’s fame. . . .”
Allison wanted to die. It was as if she’d knifed him in the back and twisted it. “Dad,” she cried, “I will always love you!”
He held her in a tight grip. “I know, Allison. You’ll have to forgive me. I guess I’m just jealous. I’m sorry.”
“And we’ll work it out so I can visit you a lot!” Allison exclaimed.
“Hello in there!” Marsha called. She walked into the carriage house. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I’ve been looking all over for you. I heard Allison was giving tours this morning. Have you seen it all yet?”
“Not everything,” Grace said.
“Well, you must allow me to help show our guests around. Do you mind, Allison?” Marsha linked arms with Grace and led the way, explaining dates and history as she went. James and Allison followed silently in joint amazement.
“How long can you stay?” Allison whispered.
“Only for the day. We need to get back in time for our tickets. I had reserved a ticket for you, too, Allison.”
Allison swallowed the gigantic lump in her throat. “How does Heather like high school, Dad?” Her voice sounded twisted and strange.
“Oh, it’s going super!” James brightened up. “That girl has courage, Allison. She’s already first flute chair in orchestra—of course, that’s no surprise. But she misses you something terrible.”
“I miss her, too. Do you think she could come visit me in California? And you and Grace, too—I mean, if you want.”
“Sure, if we can work it out. I wonder if Marsha would let you spend Christmas in Oregon?”
“I hope so, Dad.”
James smiled and squeezed Allison’s arm. “Maybe everything will be okay, Allison. If you’re happy, I’ll try to be happy, too.”
“Grace tells me you can only stay for the day, James,” Marsha said, leading them into the house. “I’m sorry it has to be so short.”
“Maybe we should get down to business, then,” James said in a cool tone. “I’d like a written agreement about visitation for Allison.”
“Well, you aren’t much fun, James. You know what they say, all work and no play—”
“I didn’t come to play, Marsha.”
“I gathered that, James. Let’s go into Daddy’s library. We might find some paper a
nd pens in there. That is unless you want me to sign it in blood.” Marsha laughed at her joke.
“I don’t think it would make much difference one way or the other,” James seethed.
“Aren’t we a little testy this morning,” Marsha teased. Allison watched her father’s face grow red and wondered how much he could take.
Marsha sat behind the large dark desk and pulled open a drawer. “Let’s see . . . where do we begin?” she asked, poising a gold pen in the air.
“How about holidays?” Grace suggested. “Maybe Allison could come up for Christmas and Easter?”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” Marsha murmured. “I was thinking more along the line of a week or two each summer—”
“I knew it!” James exploded. “Forget it! I won’t settle for a week or two each summer, Marsha. You’ll have to do better than that!”
“Let’s not get all heated up, James,” Marsha said with a smile. “We won’t accomplish anything like that. Okay, maybe she could come for Christmas vacation—”
Allison stood up and wanted to scream, but instead she walked out and slammed the door. It was more than she could bear to sit silently while they discussed her as if she were a dog, being shared back and forth like that. Grace followed her.
“Allison, I know it’s difficult for you,” Grace began.
“I just can’t take it, Grace. Sometimes it feels like I’m not even a person—just a thing.”
“I can guarantee your father does not see you as a thing. He loves you dearly, and he will fight for you, Allison—if you want him to. You just say the word. But if you want to be with Marsha, he’ll back down. You’re the only one who knows what you really want.”
“I know,” Allison said. But what she wanted would only complicate life for everyone. “Grace, when do you think you’ll get married?”
Allison O'Brian on Her Own Page 28
