by Indiana Wake
“You go on, honey,” her mother said with a vague sort of smile before studying her daughter a little more closely. “Enjoy yourself. I remember just how exciting it is to get yourself ready for something like this.”
Once again, her mother had shown a side of herself that Jenny had always longed for, the side of herself which Jenny had always wanted to be permanent rather than transient. And, once again, Jenny felt guilty for every one of her angry thoughts. Wasn’t it funny how her mother could do a hundred things to make her crazy and then, just once, act normally and have Jenny feel like the worst daughter in the world? It was exhausting and Jenny knew that she had come to the end of her tether as far as her mother was concerned.
Jenny made her way to her bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her. The click of the door closing was enough to begin to calm her and she felt herself becoming normal again. The only person who could change Polly Swain was Polly herself and Jenny knew that. Sooner or later, she had the awful feeling that her mother would know it too, but she brushed it away, deciding not to begin to feel sorry for an event that had not yet taken place. That was for the future. This was now.
She dressed in her pretty blue dress with the little flowers, the one she had worn for the barn dance the first time that Arlon had kissed her. It felt good to put it on and she hoped that its significance would not be lost on her handsome guest.
Of course, he would likely be feeling even more nervous than she was and with good cause. Perhaps she could sit at the table in old rags with her hair like a bird’s nest and he wouldn’t be any the wiser. Jenny laughed to herself; she hoped he wasn’t feeling as nervous as that.
Within ten minutes of Jenny being ready and returning to the kitchen, there came a knock at the door. Instinctively, she raised a hand to her hair to check that her dark waves were neatly held by the pale blue ribbon tied at the back.
Her father opened the kitchen door and Jenny held her breath. This was going to be the moment of truth in so many ways.
“You must be Arlon,” her father said in a confidently friendly manner. “Sure is nice to meet you.” Jenny peered over to see that her father was shaking Arlon enthusiastically by the hand.
“And it sure is nice to meet you, Mr. Swain,” Arlon said and Jenny took a moment to study him.
He always looked neat and tidy but never more so than he did right then. Jenny wanted to laugh; his wonderfully unruly blonde hair had been tamed to an extent she had not yet seen, something which made her think of a choirboy. He wore black trousers which she’d never seen before, perhaps they were his Sunday best, and a light blue checked shirt. As always, Arlon didn’t wear a hat and Jenny was reminded of how he had lifted an imaginary hat the first time he’d met her. There wasn’t a single thing about Arlon Hurst that Jenny didn’t like.
“Well, come on in.” Her father ushered Arlon in and Polly, turning from the oven, quickly wiped her hands on her apron.
She was already smiling brightly, and Jenny entertained the idea that everything might actually be all right in the end. But as Arlon advanced into the room, Polly Swain’s smile faded. It faded with such speed that the sight of it was quite shocking and Jenny felt her heart begin to pound uncomfortably. What on earth was her mother doing? Was this yet one more way to keep her daughter by her side for her entire life? Whatever it was, it sure was embarrassing.
“Honey?” Gavin Swain said gently to his wife. “Honey?” he said with a little more force.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Swain,” Arlon said, clearly sensing the disquiet and doing something to fill in the gaps.
“And it’s nice to meet you, Arlon,” her mother said cautiously, her smile returning.
But Jenny knew her mother well enough to know that that smile was anything but genuine. It was the sort of smile that somebody reserved for Sunday mornings outside church being greeted by a person you didn’t like but felt obliged to be polite to. Nothing could have angered Jenny more. It was not only unforgivable, but it was the last straw.
“Arlon, how have you been?” Jenny said, displaying the sort of warmth that she ordinarily would have felt embarrassed to show in front of her parents. She crossed the room, holding out both hands to take his in hers and stared into his eyes. “I sure have missed you,” she added, not even blushing she was so angry.
“Well, I’ve been just fine, Jenny. Same old thing, I suppose.” He grinned at her uncertainly, clearly a little wrongfooted by her effusive greeting.
“I guess you and Ted have been working hard these last two weeks?” she went on, ushering him into a seat at the kitchen table and doing everything in her power to ignore her parents.
She felt a little sorry for her father. It was clear that he was in the dark as she was about her mother’s curious behavior.
“I don’t know if it’s the hot weather or my imagination, but it seems like we were carrying more cargo than ever. I know that can’t be true, we can only carry so much weight, but it sure did feel like a lot once we got shifting it.” It was clear that Arlon was doing his best to relax, and Jenny felt more annoyed still that he should have to try so hard.
He was a guest in their home and, as far as she was concerned, her mother had managed to treat him appallingly with a simple look.
“Jenny says that you’re fairly new to working on the river, Arlon.” Gavin Swain, his back to his wife, also settled down at the table in a bid to make their guest more comfortable.
“Yes, just a few months now, sir. Before I came here, I’d only ever lived in California.” Arlon was doing what he could to help Jenny’s father out.
Gavin Swain was going out of his way and so Arlon was doing the same. As the two men began to talk, Jenny allowed her eyes to stray to where her mother was putting the finishing touches on their meal. Polly Swain was so intent on staring at Arlon that she did not even see her daughter glaring at her. Although she concentrated on her preparations, her eyes continually flickered to the young man and the look on her face was one of purest disdain. How dare she? This, as far as Jenny was concerned, was the last straw.
Polly Swain knew nothing at all about Arlon Hurst and Jenny thought it appalling that she would behave in such a way. She looked as if Arlon had done something to her, something dreadful, and Jenny wondered if it was simply the fact that he had an interest in the daughter she wanted to chain to the house. Was that all it took to excite Polly Swain’s despise?
“Well, it sounds like you’ve taken to it real well. How much of the river do you cover?”
“All in all, it’s a couple of hundred miles. Although, I am counting the return journey, Mr. Swain.”
“Yes, already Arlon has seen more of Oregon than I have, and I’ve lived here all my life,” Jenny said, still glaring at her mother. “What a wonderful thing to have a job on a barge. I think I’d love to do something like that.”
“Jenny, don’t be so ridiculous,” her mother said when she finally spoke.
“What is so ridiculous about wanting to see beyond the bars of one’s cage?” Jenny said levelly and Arlon stiffened visibly.
Even with some understanding of how things worked in the Swain household, still, Arlon looked as if he had wandered into a world he did not know. Immediately, Jenny lightened her tone.
“And how is Ted, Arlon? I must say, Joanne keeps asking about him.”
“And he keeps asking about her,” Arlon said and laughed. “It looks like we have a match, huh?”
“Joanne is a nice girl,” Polly said pointlessly.
“She sure is, Mrs. Swain,” Arlon said and smiled as if all was right with the world. “And Ted is a very fine man,” he added, still smiling but clearly defending his friend against unnecessary attack.
“Right, is everybody hungry?” Polly asked with forced brightness as she approached the table with the first of many serving dishes.
“That sure does smell good, Mrs. Swain.” Arlon smiled, catching Jenny’s eye for a moment.
He was absolutely doing
his best here and Jenny knew it.
“Thank you, Arlon,” Polly said somewhat mechanically.
There was some brief respite from it all as the food was served and everybody made themselves comfortable at the table. But the very moment that they began to eat, Jenny was horribly aware of her mother studying their guest in great detail. And Arlon, who smiled now and again, looked uncomfortable enough for all of them.
“Mama, is there some problem?” Jenny said sharply.
“No, no problem.” Polly looked down at her plate and then looked up again. “Forgive me, Arlon, but you look very familiar to me.”
“Do I?” Arlon looked suddenly concerned and Jenny felt a creeping sense of unease. “I don’t think we’ve ever met, ma’am.”
“Arlon who?” Polly Swain tipped her head to one side and continued to stare at him. “I don’t think you’ve been fully introduced.”
“Polly,” Gavin said in a confused but otherwise a warning tone.
“Arlon Hurst,” Arlon replied and looked even more concerned.
“Are you any relation to Travis Hurst?” Polly went on.
“Who on earth is Travis Hurst?” Jenny asked, finally she’d had enough and slammed her knife and fork down onto her plate. “What is this, Mama?”
“Travis Hurst was my father,” Arlon said and Jenny began to feel a little fearful.
How did her mother know Arlon’s father’s name when she herself did not? And given that she had guessed the name right, how was it that her mother had known Arlon’s father in the first place?
“Was? Do you mean he’s dead?” Polly says rather brutally.
“Mama!” Jenny said and rose to her feet. “That’s enough.”
“Yes, that is enough, Polly,” Gavin Swain said and turned to Arlon with a grim smile. “You must forgive my wife, Arlon. We knew your father a little and I daresay this has come as something of a shock to her.”
“It has come as something of a shock to me too, sir,” Arlon was rising to his feet as the first of Jenny’s tears sprang to her eyes—he was about to leave their house. She knew that much. “And I sense strongly that I’m not welcome here. Perhaps it would be better for all of us if I just left.” He cleared his throat. “I thank you kindly for the meal, Mrs. Swain,” he said, peering down at his barely touched plate.
“No, wait,” Jenny said, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt all control of over her life slipping through her fingers.
She had no idea what was going on and she felt both afraid and furious in equal measure. She wanted an explanation for it all and, at the same time, she was afraid to hear it.
“Jenny, it’s for the best,” Arlon said and laid a hand on her shoulder, staring into her eyes for a moment.
When he stepped away from the table, Jenny’s father rose to his feet. He smiled awkwardly at Arlon, never once looking at Jenny.
“Well, I’ll show you out, son,” Gavin Swain said, and Jenny felt entirely let down now.
Her mother’s behavior had been one thing, but her father’s reluctance to do anything about it was something else entirely. Once again, Gavin Swain was giving in to his wife, letting her have her way, and silently expecting that Jenny would go along with it all.
As Jenny helplessly watched the man that she was falling in love with being shown out of the house, she decided there and then that she would never go along with it all again. She would never go along with any of it, not for a moment, and Polly Swain was going to be sorrier than she had ever been in her life.
Chapter Twelve
“How could you, Mother?” Jenny said the moment she was sure Arlon’s departing footsteps had dwindled to nothing; she didn’t want him to hear this.
“Now, Jenny, just you mind your tone,” her father said and it was clear that he was keen to keep a lid on whatever it was that was coming next.
“Why should I? Why should I behave when Mama has done anything but behave? I still can’t believe what has happened here tonight.” Tears were streaming down Jenny’s face; tears of anger and frustration.
“You are never to see that young man again! Do you hear me?” Polly Swain said in a low and desperate voice. “Never!”
“And just what right do you have to choose for me, Mother?”
“In this case, I have every right. That boy will break your heart in two if I let him. But I won’t let him. I won’t have it!”
“This is crazy, Mother. Daddy, what on earth is going on? Why is she behaving like this? This is even worse than usual. This is crazier than usual.”
“Don’t you go saying that about your mama, Jenny. I know you’re upset, but I can assure you that your mama is not crazy.”
“Is that so, Daddy? Well, if that’s the case, maybe you can explain to me just what on earth happened here tonight? If this is not crazy, I don’t know what is.”
“How could you think that I’m crazy when all I’ve ever done is try to keep you safe?” Polly Swain was crying now.
She looked pale and drawn as if she truly had suffered a great shock and Jenny knew that she would feel something more for her mother if she was not so appallingly angry with her.
“You’re not keeping me safe! You’re smothering me. Your care will be the death of me, do you not see it? All these years you’ve tried to keep me in his house, never straying further than the town barn or the schoolroom. I can’t even go camping properly, can I? Barely a mile from the house is as far as I am allowed to go. Well, congratulations, Mother. This life of mine that you are so keen to protect has become one I hate beyond the telling of it. I don’t want to be here anymore. For goodness sake, you are always causing a fuss when I head out to camp for one single night without seeing that you are the reason that I go in the first place. Have you never wondered why it is that I would choose to sleep outside rather than in this house?” Jenny knew that she ought not to be letting go of the darker thoughts and feelings of her heart, but she seemed to be powerless to stop it.
“Jenny!” her mother wailed, beginning to sob uncontrollably.
“Jenny, please don’t do this. I can’t manage the both of you in this condition,” her father said in a gentle tone which was clearly designed to have the two women he loved most in the world calm down.
“Perhaps if you had managed Mother’s condition these last twenty years we wouldn’t be here now in this argument. You know that she has kept me in a cage all this time. You always let her get away with it, you always let her crush me and smother me. Well, neither one of you are going to do that to me ever again.”
“You think you’re so hard done to, Jenny, you don’t realize that I am saving you,” Polly said, a little frisson of anger making its way out through her devastation.
But why was she devastated? What right did she have to such feelings when she was the one who had caused all of this?
“You don’t know the first thing about Arlon Hurst, Mother. How can you possibly know that you’re saving me from heartbreak or anything else? In fact, how can you know anything when it seems clear to me that you’ve had no idea whatsoever that you have been breaking my heart for nearly twenty years! The only person who has ever hurt me is you!”
“You don’t know what sort of man he is,” Polly said, looking truly terrible.
“And neither do you.”
“You don’t know anything about his father.”
“I don’t need to. I know that a son is not necessarily like a father in the same way that a daughter is not necessarily like a mother.” She laughed cruelly. “I think I am evidence of that, don’t you?” Polly looked hurt by Jenny’s words and Jenny was glad.
It was about time she told her mother exactly what a toll the years of stifling control had taken on her. And it was time to tell her exactly what would happen if it didn’t stop.
“I think it’s time we either ate this meal or went to bed,” Gavin said in a stern voice. “I don’t think we’re going to solve anything tonight, not like this.”
“I’m not to
uching a thing,” Jenny said defiantly, looking angrily down at the meal her mother had so carefully prepared.
“Then I think it would be better if you just went to your room, Jenny.” Gavin looked both apologetic and worn down all at once.
He looked as if this was as much as he could stand, even though she could detect a little more annoyance for her mother than for herself. After all, what had Jenny done? She wasn’t the one who had ruined the evening, the one who had brought up the death of their guest’s father at the dinner table as if it had no more importance than the death of an ant underfoot.
Why couldn’t her father, just once, tell her mother that her behavior was not reasonable? Not even now, when Polly Swain had been more irrational than Jenny had ever seen, would her husband go against her fully.
“You have to stay awake, Gavin, she’ll try to get out. She’ll try to leave early in the morning like she did last time.”
“You needn’t speak about me as if I’m not here, Mother,” Jenny said, her tone still angry even if her voice was a good deal quieter now. “And I am nearly twenty-years-old. I do not need to creep out of this house if I want to leave it. If I want to leave, I would just go.”
“Oh, Gavin!” Polly said in a desperate wail, looking to her husband for support.
“Honey, if you could just sleep on it and we’ll speak again tomorrow,” her father said, trying to be sensible.
But Jenny had had enough of being reasonable—she’d had nearly two decades of trying to be reasonable and she was heartsick of it. Without saying another word, she walked out of the kitchen and made her way to her room. She looked down at the dress she had been so keen for Arlon to notice and her tears came back with a vengeance. She had known that the evening would not be the most relaxing of her life, but Jenny had never imagined in her wildest dreams it would have come to this.
