A Love for All Seasons

by Bettye Griffin

  “Oh, not that again. Mom, Pop was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was. But he did you a disservice, the way he favored Daphne. He couldn’t help it, Alicia. Don’t be upset with him.”

  “But I’m not upset, Mom.”

  “That’s precisely what troubles me. You should be furious, or hurt, or wonder why, or something. It’s not natural to have no feelings at all. I loved your father, Alicia, but I hated how he behaved. I saw it, remember, I was there. I saw how he’d pick up Daphne and lift her high, and then how he’d rub your shoulder like some kind of postscript at the end of a letter. He’d talk about Daphne so much that people who didn’t know him probably didn’t realize he had two daughters. We fought about it all the time.”

  “Mom, I wouldn’t want to be the cause—”

  “Stop apologizing, Alicia. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Mom, you’re getting excited.” She could see it in Caroline’s face, and in her body language, the way she suddenly straightened up and punched her pillow. Alicia found it alarming. “Calm down, please.”

  “That’s my whole point. Alicia, you never even looked disappointed when your father acted the way he did, but I’ve watched you look disappointed all day today with every phone call you received. I’m not sure what to make of that, but I am afraid that the way your father treated you might have a negative effect on your relationships with men.”

  “Mom, don’t worry. I know Pop loved me in his own way. He told me so before he passed. He was always there when I needed him, just like you were. He sent me to school, gave me an education…and he provided for me, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did,” Caroline admitted.

  “So he had a little touch of favoritism when it came to Daphne. I was hardly treated like an ugly stepsister.” Alicia refrained from pointing out that in her opinion, at least, she turned out much better than Daphne.

  “And I know he was very proud of you, Alicia. But I do worry about you. I don’t want you to accept second-class treatment from any man—”

  “I never have, Mom. I never will.”

  “Nor do I want your father’s favoritism of Daphne to stop you from loving anyone.”

  “That’s silly, Mom. I love you.”

  “You know very well what I mean, Alicia.” Caroline’s expression grew serious. “You’re my eldest child. You came along at a time when I thought your daddy and I were destined to be without a family of our own. You brightened our whole lives, and you are dearer to me than I can ever tell you.”

  Alicia beamed.

  “But there’s something I have to—”

  “Okay, here we are,” Martha called out cheerfully. A moment later she entered the room with a large tray holding two plates, orange juice and coffee.

  Alicia reached for the rattan weave tray on which Caroline took her meals when in bed, unfolding the legs from each side and placing it over Caroline’s lap. Martha transferred the food onto it. “Thanks, Alicia.”

  “I’ll sit at the coffee table, Martha,” Alicia said.

  “You can stay right there. I brought a tray for you.” She handed Alicia a Formica tray trimmed in pecan wood. “We have a set of these. Miss Daphne uses one all the time when she eats in your mother’s room.”

  Alicia found something disconcerting in Martha, who at forty-two was considerably older than the notyet-thirty Daphne, using the courtesy title of “Miss” when referring to her. She knew Martha did it only to appease her sister’s highfalutin’ ways, but it made her wince nonetheless. Daphne didn’t sign Martha’s paychecks…she just acted like she did.

  “Martha, Mom’s going to go to church this morning,” she said proudly. “The nurse said she’s up to it.”

  “That’s wonderful, Miss Caroline! I’ve been telling you that you’re looking wonderful these days.”

  “I feel pretty good, too. Thanks, Martha.”

  Chapter 7

  Hello, Little Girl

  Stamford, Connecticut

  Late 1970s

  Fletcher Timberlake held his new baby daughter and gestured for Alicia to come to him. “Here she is, Alicia. Your mother and I have named her Daphne. Your mother always said she liked that name.”

  “Then why did you call me Alicia?” she asked solemnly.

  “Uh…We liked that name, too. Now tell me, what do you think of your new little sister?” He peeled the pink blanket back a bit so Alicia could see her clearly.

  She looked at the sleeping infant. “Isn’t she ever going to do anything but sleep?”

  Fletcher laughed. “Sure she will! All babies sleep a lot at first. They sleep, they cry, and they make messes in their diapers. You must have—I mean, you did the same thing yourself.”

  “I don’t remember doing that.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t. No one remembers when they were babies. Even I can’t remember being a baby.”

  Alicia took another look at her new sister. She looked like a big lump of that stuff Mommy mixed up before she rolled it flat and made biscuits, except she had a little bit of hair at the top of her head. “When will she be able to play with me?”

  “Oh, not for a while yet, I’m afraid. Babies are very delicate. They have to be handled with care.”

  “And why can’t I play with Mommy?”

  “Alicia, I explained that to you. Mommy has to take it easy. She used up a lot of energy having the baby, and she isn’t as strong as she should be. She just has to rest for a few weeks, and then she’ll be good as new. That’s why we hired Sadie. She’s going to come in while I’m at work to help Mommy out.”

  “I can help Mommy out, Pop.” Everything was different from how it used to be. Mommy’s tummy had gotten so big, and her ankles got all swollen, and she spent all of her time in bed. Then instead of Mommy bringing her to school and picking her up, Sadie started to do it. Alicia liked Sadie, but she missed playing with Mommy. Sadie was kind of old, and she got tired real quick. But Daddy told her that Mommy needed to rest because she was carrying a baby in her tummy. Now that the baby was here, Alicia thought things would go back to the way they used to be, but now instead of Mommy in bed all the time, her new baby sister just laid around, too. And everything had to be so quiet. If she wanted to listen to her Winnie The Pooh record, Sadie made it so soft she could barely hear it.

  Fletcher reached and rubbed the back of her head. “You’re a good girl, Alicia. But you have to go to school, remember? You’re a big girl, in the first grade. Remember how you promised you’d make good grades?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s why you can’t miss school. Don’t you worry. You’re going to be a big help to Mommy, though. You’ll help her take care of my little princess.” He bent and kissed Daphne’s forehead.

  Alicia’s forehead wrinkled. Princess? Is that what he would call her baby sister? Why didn’t she have a special name, too?

  Then he got to his feet and reached for her hand. “Come on, Precious. Let’s go see Mommy.”

  Smiling, she took his hand. So now Pop called her “Precious.” She liked it. She started to tell him, but she stopped when she saw his face turned away from her.

  He was lovingly gazing at the baby he held in the crook of his other arm.

  Chapter 8

  Ticket To Ride

  Alicia took the four-twenty-eight train back to the city. It had been a pleasant afternoon, but it occurred to her now that after Martha’s ill-timed interruption, she never got the chance to resume the conversation with her mother, who’d obviously been about to tell her something.

  Daphne, having woken up, soon joined them, sitting to chat while Alicia and Caroline had breakfast. They ended up discussing a completely different subject matter. The moment Daphne learned of their plans to attend church she insisted on going with them. In the end, she stayed at Caroline’s as long as Alicia had. Actually, Daphne, Todd and little Fletch dropped Alicia off at the Green’s Farms train station on their way home to White Plains.

  Alicia m
assaged her kneecaps. Maybe it was just as well that her conversation with her mother had been interrupted. She probably intended to say more of the same. She’d tried for years to convince Caroline that she had no problems with her father, then or now. Fletcher Timberlake had a soft spot for his youngest child. So what? Nobody said that parents had to be perfect, did they? They were supposed to love their children and care for them…and he had. Martha’s appearance at that precise moment had probably cut short another round of exasperating attempts at persuasion. Caroline just couldn’t seem to accept the truth. Alicia regretted that her mother would probably go to her grave believing she’d been wronged by her father. She wished she could make Caroline understand that she felt no such thing.

  A ringing cell phone interrupted her thoughts. She reached lazily for the silver gizmo that had become her social lifeline since spending so much time away from home. “Hello?”

  “Alicia, how are you?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She knew it was Jack simply from the lyrical way he pronounced her name. Finally, after two days, he’d gotten around to calling her.

  She decided to play it cool. “Hello, Dev,” she said cheerfully. “So you remembered my number, huh?”

  “It’s tattooed on my brain.”

  “I figured you just called Pete and got it from him and Rhonda.”

  “Nah, that would have been too easy. I figured I’d check on you and see how you coped with your hangover.”

  “Who said I had a hangover?”

  “The way you slurred your words Friday night,” he said promptly.

  She laughed. “All right, I confess. My head did feel abnormally large and heavy when I woke up yesterday morning, but I’m feeling much better now.”

  She paused as the conductor announced the next stop. “Larchmont!”

  “You must have given me your cell number,” he said curiously. “You sound like you’re out and about.”

  “My cell is the only phone I have. I don’t even have a home phone anymore. I access the Internet through a cable line. Actually, I’m on a train on my way back home. I spent the weekend with my mother.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “I’m happy to say she’s gained some strength. I was able to get her out of the house for a few hours this afternoon.”

  “I’m sure having such a devoted daughter has helped her spirit.” He paused. “Alicia, I was hoping you and I would be able to have dinner together this week. Maybe Saturday?”

  “I’d love to, Dev, but I’m not sure how I can pull it off.” She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back for the breezy way that came out, then went on to explain. “I’m up with my mom in Fairfield County on the weekends and at least twice during the week.”

  “You have to eat wherever you are, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Well, yes….”

  “And it’ll be easier for me if you’re in Connecticut than it would if you were in New York. I live in Stamford, remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  “I’d prefer to pick you up, but I’ll understand if you want to keep the house quiet for your mother’s sake.”

  “Yes, why don’t we meet?” she quickly agreed.

  “I’ll be in touch during the week.”

  “Okay, Dev. Thanks for calling.”

  “You bet.”

  Alicia clicked the End button with a smile. Her mother had been right. The call she’d been hoping for had come in after all. And now she had Saturday night with Jack to look forward to. He’d even been considerate enough to offer to meet her, something she planned to take him up on. She didn’t want Daphne sizing up Jack and asking him questions; nor did she feel Jack needed to see where her mother lived. She hadn’t even mentioned the name of the town, fearing he might get preconceived notions. She seriously doubted he was a gold digger, but sometimes people looked at her differently when she said the word “Westport.” It might not be the wealthiest town in Fairfield County—she believed New Canaan held that distinction—but it probably had higher name recognition as a city of privileged residents.

  She watched the scenery of the New Haven line pass by as the train moved south. Funny. She found it much easier to speak with Jack on the phone than she did being with him face-to-face. On the phone none of the disquieting feelings existed. She wondered why that was….

  In his Stamford condominium, Jack felt pretty good about the way the conversation went. He’d forced himself not to dial her number until now, knowing she expected to hear from him well before this. A woman as good-looking as Alicia Timberlake was sure to have her fair share of admirers, all of whom probably contacted her as soon as they could. He, on the other hand, wanted to stand out from the pack. Instead he did his usual weekend errands—the barber, the dry cleaner, the supermarket. He spent Saturday afternoon playing basketball at the courts near his apartment, where a person could always get a game going. That night he went to a local club, but he saw no one who interested him the way Alicia Timberlake had. Sunday he went for a drive up U.S. Seven, a particularly scenic route with an abundance of fall foliage, then relaxed with the papers while watching football on TV.

  As the game neared its conclusion he finally reached for his cell phone and dialed her number. He would never know for certain if she’d been wondering if he would call or not, but he nonetheless felt convinced he’d done the right thing, largely in light of her evasiveness. He knew that Alicia’s saying her mother lived in “Fairfield County” had been no more an accident than when she recited her phone number, knowing he had no pen and paper. He was a resident of the county himself, but for some reason she didn’t want him to know exactly where her mother lived. Because of that, he suggested they meet somewhere. He couldn’t imagine her reasons—he wouldn’t care if her mother lived in a cave. He just wanted Alicia to be comfortable and without reservations about their date.

  He had no sooner hung up when the phone rang again. Pete’s voice came over the wire. “Hey there.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m calling at the behest of my wife,” he said.

  Jack pictured him smiling fondly at Rhonda. He suddenly felt quite alone.

  “Both of us wanted to thank you for taking care of Alicia the other night. Rhonda, out of pure concern for your social life, also wants to know if you met any nice girls at the party.”

  “Actually, yes. I’m having dinner with the hostess herself next weekend.”

  “Alicia?”

  “Yes.” Jack picked up on the incredulity in his friend’s tone. “Something wrong with that?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just kind of surprised, that’s all.” In the background Jack heard Rhonda say, “I’m surprised, too.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t think she’s your type.”

  “Why? Because I’m a country boy from Docena, Alabama, and she’s a sophisticated city slicker?”

  “Please. You’re about as much as a hick as Bill Clinton or Condi Rice. You don’t even have an accent. Listen, I’m the first one to say that just because a person is from a small town in the South doesn’t mean they just fell off a turnip truck. But Alicia’s…well, she’s different, Jack.”

  “I didn’t notice the antenna growing out of her head.”

  “Come on, man. I’m not saying she’s an alien. It’s her personality. I don’t think it’ll mesh with yours. It’s practically impossible to get close to her. We’ve known her for years, but we still don’t know much about her.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t like you very much,” he joked.

  But Pete remained serious. “I’m not kiddin’, man. Alicia’s real sweet, outgoing, and considerate, but she’s not like most women. I know you’ve been with women who were clingy and demanding, and so have I, before I met Rhonda. But Alicia can love ’em and leave ’em as good as any man.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And how would you know that?”

  “Rhonda shared some things Alicia
told her with me. Girl talk kind of things. She probably shouldn’t have told me, but I don’t think Alicia would feel betrayed if she knew Rhonda repeated a few things she said. After all, I’ve known her almost as long as Rhonda has.”

  “What did Rhonda tell you?”

  “Apparently, Alicia chafes at feeling fenced in. Nor does she feel that she’s got to be in love with a man to sleep with him. I’m not saying she’s easy, Jack, she just feels urges like the rest of us and acts on them. Alicia makes no demands on people and can’t stand for anyone to make demands of her. She might as well be surrounded by the Great Wall of China. I don’t think you’ll be able to get through it. And I know you won’t be happy if she spends the night with another man just days after being with you. She’s the type who’ll probably never settle down. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I’ll consider myself warned. But Pete, if you think I won’t be able to get next to Alicia, then all I can say is you don’t know Jack.”

  Chapter 9

  A Taste of Honey

  Jack made sure he arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early. He wanted to be there to greet Alicia when she arrived.

  “Devlin is the name. I have a reservation for eight o’clock. I’m meeting someone,” he told the maître d’.

  The middle-aged man nodded knowingly. “Yes, Mr. Devlin. And does the young lady have any distinguishing characteristics?”

  “Only that she’s stunning,” he promptly replied. “Definitely too gorgeous to be entering a restaurant alone.”

  “I’m sure I’ll recognize her. But just to be on the safe side, would you like to give me her name?”

  “Miss Timberlake,” he said, adding, “I’ll wait at the bar.”

  “Very well, Mr. Devlin. I will bring her to you myself.”

  “Thanks.” He wandered into the separate bar area, where he sat at the end of the counter and ordered a Scotch and water. The maître d’ seemed amused by his description, but how else could he describeAlicia? With her high cheekbones, gracefully arched brows, and skin so flawless it looked like it had been painted on, she was a goddess.