by Becky Durfee
“I had no idea things were like that,” Isabelle replied. “I always liked Greg. I thought you two were happy.”
“I thought I was happy, too, strangely enough,” Jenny admitted. “It wasn’t until I started pursuing my psychic ability that I figured out what true happiness felt like. It was only then that I realized how bad my marriage was. So anyway, I started acting in a way that Greg didn’t like, and at the same time I was discovering I wasn’t really happy. As you can imagine, we had some pretty stormy times.”
“You said had,” Isabelle noted. “Does that mean things are better now?”
Jenny looked at her lap. “It means things are over now.”
“Oh, honey. Are you sure you can’t get past this?”
“We tried. We went to counseling and everything. But I have changed—I openly admit that. And Greg doesn’t like the woman I’ve become.”
“Do you like the woman you’ve become?” Isabelle posed.
Jenny looked her mother in the eye. “I’ve never liked myself more.”
Jenny felt both relief and surprise when her mother patted her hand from across the table and said, “You know what, then? Good for you.”
“Do you mean that, ma?”
“Absolutely. I’m your mother, and I want you to be happy. If being away from Greg is what makes you happy, then I’m fine with it. I just want you to be absolutely sure that’s what you want; I’d hate for you to regret this decision.”
“I won’t regret it. I know that already.”
Isabelle raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Is that because of this Zack fellow who called you this afternoon?”
“No, ma. Zack is my business partner.”
“Business? Aren’t you a teacher?”
Jenny looked at her lap and shook her head.
“My goodness. You haven’t told me anything, have you? What business are you in?”
“The psychic business. You see, Elanor Whitby left the majority of her estate to me once I solved her boyfriend’s murder. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, so I’ve decided to devote my life to using my ability to provide people with answers.” Jenny blushed modestly. “I was actually able to put a murderer behind bars back in Georgia.” She decided to leave off the part about nearly getting herself killed in the process.
“Are you serious?”
Jenny nodded. “A couple of his victims contacted me, and I was able to work together with Zack to get the case solved.”
“So how did you come to work with this Zack fellow?”
This Zack fellow. Jenny was amused by the fact that her mother couldn’t seem to call him simply by name. “He helped me with my first case; it involved his family. He did a lot of the legwork for me.”
Isabelle digested the information with a nod. After a sip of water, she posed, “Are you still living in that same house with Greg?”
“No, I got an apartment a few weeks ago. I’m looking to buy a house in Tennessee, though. In fact, that’s why Zack called me earlier.” Jenny wished she could have sucked those words back in right after she’d said them.
“What does your business partner have to do with house shopping?”
Damn. It didn’t get past her. “We’re actually buying a house together. Well, not together. I’m buying a house with an in-law suite in the basement for him to live in.”
“Why on earth would you buy a house with your business partner?”
Jenny sighed. “Sometimes I get contacts at weird hours. If something noteworthy happens at three in the morning, I want to be able to knock on his door and tell him about it. Or if I need to go somewhere, he can come with me. He wanted it that way. He wanted to be able to keep an eye on me.”
“That’s kind of him. Is he an older gentleman?” Isabelle was fishing.
“He turned thirty last week.”
Isabelle shifted her posture. “Well, isn’t that interesting?”
For a moment Jenny contemplated offering an explanation but thought better of it. She didn’t want to deny the chemistry she shared with Zack, but she didn’t want to open that can of worms either. Instead she decided to shift the focus off of herself.
“Speaking of interesting,” Jenny began, “I do believe you may have a rather colorful story yourself.”
“Oh, gosh,” Isabelle said breathlessly as she put her elbows on the table. Cupping her face in her hands she added, “I hoped to never have this conversation with you.”
“Well, like I said, I’m not upset. I just want to know the truth.”
Isabelle fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat, apparently searching for a place to begin. With a sigh she admitted, “Well, like you and Greg, your father and I went through a rough patch ourselves.” Suddenly Isabelle looked down at her lap. “Should I still refer to him as your father?”
“He is my father,” Jenny assured her. “And he always will be, no matter who created me.”
Flashing a sheepish smile at Jenny, Isabelle continued. “Well, your father used to be a perfectionist, to the point where it drove me crazy. I think when he was stressed from work, he wanted to come home to a flawless house—you know, three impeccably dressed boys behaving sweetly and a home-cooked meal on the table. Now I know you don’t have kids, but let me tell you, staying home with three very energetic young boys is incredibly difficult. I worked my fingers to the bone just to make sure the house was still standing every day, and your father would come home and do nothing but complain about all the stuff that wasn’t done. He would tell me there’s no reason why the house should look the way it did when he came home. I’d been home all day; I should have been able to accomplish something. Oh, he made me angry.” Isabelle made a dismissive gesture with her hand.
“I was feeling very dissatisfied with him and with life in general. I wanted more from life than just chasing three boys around all day and getting lectured by my husband at night. I felt myself starting to sink into a depression, so I signed up for an art class on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I had always wanted to learn to paint, and I needed something new in my life.”
Suddenly things began to make sense to Jenny.
“Well,” Isabelle continued, “the teacher was a very interesting man named Rod.”
“The teacher, ma?”
Isabelle shrugged. “What? It’s not like I was in high school. I was a grown woman taking a class through the parks and rec. department.”
Jenny made a face anyway.
“Truthfully I probably wouldn’t have been interested in him if I wasn’t so mad at your father at the time. He wasn’t my type at all. He was a hippie, and I’d never really gone for that type before. But when I tell you he was the opposite of your father, I mean it. I couldn’t think of two men who were more different. And it was refreshing.”
Jenny thought immediately about her own opposite-of-Greg attraction to Zack, and she completely understood.
“So there I was, feeling more and more frustrated with your father every day, and feeling more and more drawn to Rod. Rod offered me no pressure. His attitude was just do the best you can, with both art and life. If it doesn’t look right, oh well. Who’s to say what right is anyway? Your father, on the other hand, would come home and his first words would be dammit, Isabelle! What is this mess?”
“I don’t remember Dad being like that,” Jenny confessed.
“By the time you came around, he wasn’t. But with the boys, he was. And eventually I’d had enough of it, so I moved in with my sister for a few months. I would bring the boys with me during the day, and then they would go back to the house at night while I waitressed the evening shift at a diner. Your father got to experience what it was like to be in charge of the boys. Normally in the evenings I’d still be the one taking care of them, even though your father had been home, so he had no idea how hard it was.” Isabelle let out a laugh. “You should have seen what the house looked like without me there to take care of it. He thought it was dirty before. It looked like a tornado had gone through a
fter I left.
“I, on the other hand, was faring much better at my sister’s house. I took care of the boys during the day, like I always did, but then I had a life of my own in the evening. It felt great, too. I did have to quit the art class so I could work. I was sad about that.”
Jenny was confused. “So Rod wasn’t my father?”
“Oh, he was,” Isabelle stated. “He also felt bad about me not being able to take the class, so he offered to come over to my sister’s house during the day and give me private lessons. For free.”
“I guess he was attracted to you,” Jenny surmised.
Isabelle nodded slightly. “It appears so. And we did have a brief fling.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
With a sigh, Isabelle begrudgingly stated, “Yes, I guess you are. So, yeah, I got involved in a short affair with Rod. But obviously, during that time we did manage to conceive a child.” Isabelle looked lovingly at Jenny, taking her hand. “A beautiful, intelligent, artistic child that I haven’t regretted for a second.”
Jenny returned the smile. “But you must have been terrified when you found out you were pregnant.”
“Oh, I was. Terrified might be an understatement. I wasn’t afraid of taking care of a baby on my own; I’d been doing that for years. I was afraid of the finances. I had a job, but I had no insurance. I wouldn’t have been able to afford the hospital stay for birth, let alone feeding and clothing you.”
“You don’t think Rod would have helped you?”
“Sweetie, Rod spent several months living in a tent. Like I said, he was a hippie. I think he grew all his own food for crying out loud. His little art gig certainly didn’t provide him with benefits and disposable income.”
“He lived in a tent?” Jenny’s dismayed face returned.
“Not while I knew him, but he had in the past. He hiked the Appalachian Trail for a few months, and then he continued to live out of his tent once he hit Georgia. He had no money for any other place to stay. But it didn’t seem to bother him; that was the crazy part. He just rolled with the punches.”
“How very un-Dad.”
“See what I mean? Your father was so uptight; he was the ultimate planner. He budgeted everything to the penny. He wanted dinner at precisely six-twenty every night.” Isabelle shook her head. “He drove me crazy, and I guess my affair with Rod was my ultimate act of defiance.”
“So how did you end up getting back together with Dad?”
“He actually called me after a few months. He apologized, saying he didn’t realize how hard it was to take care of a house and the kids. He promised not to be so hard on me if I was willing to come back and give things one more try. I honestly wasn’t that optimistic that he was going to change, but I was pregnant, so I wasn’t really in a position to decline his offer. That was when I had that conversation with him at the kitchen table. The one you described.” Isabelle’s eyes became teary. “I remember that conversation like it was yesterday. Your father said he’d still take me back, but I had to pretend that you were his. I never told anyone, including Rod, that you were the product of an affair. I just told people that your father and I had gotten together one night while we were separated.”
Based on the vision she’d had, Jenny knew her mother was telling the truth. “So Rod doesn’t know I exist?”
With a blink the tears fell down Isabelle’s cheeks. “No, sweetie. I never told him. I’m so sorry.”
Jenny felt a bit put off by the notion that a man walked the earth unaware that he had a daughter, but she also understood why her mother had acted the way she did. “It’s okay, ma. It really is.” Jenny looked at her lap. “To be honest, I did have a little affair with Zack myself, for the same reasons you did. It was so refreshing to be with someone who was not like Greg. I was just lucky in the sense that I didn’t get pregnant during my affair.”
Isabelle’s tears stopped flowing as she looked at her daughter. “I guess we’re more alike than we ever knew, huh sweetie?”
Jenny nodded, locking eyes with Isabelle. “I guess so.”
The two women exchanged a smile as they silently acknowledged the nature of their relationship had just changed.
Jenny broke the silence. “So, have you ever heard from or seen Rod since this happened?”
“No. When I told him I was getting back together with your father, he cut ties. I don’t think he was mad, necessarily. Like I said, he just rolled with the punches. But he did recognize it was time for him to move on.”
“Do you have any idea where he is now?”
Isabelle shook her head. “None whatsoever. I don’t know even know if he’s alive.” Isabelle thought for a moment. “Or living in a tent.”
After a giggle Jenny posed, “Would it bother you if I looked for him?”
Isabelle reflected silently before she whispered, “No, it wouldn’t bother me.” Tears resurfaced when she added, “He’d probably be impressed to see what a talented artist you are. You got his natural ability, you know.”
A thought occurred to Jenny. “Do you think that’s why Dad was always so unimpressed with my paintings?”
With a hint of shame in her voice, Isabelle said, “I believe so.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “I’m sorry about that honey. I know your father always downplayed your talent, and believe me I spoke to him about that behind closed doors. I told him that he can’t punish you for my indiscretion. But he just said…” Isabelle apparently decided against finishing her sentence.
“He just said what?”
Isabelle sighed heavily. “He just said that every time he saw one of your paintings it reminded him that you weren’t his.”
Jenny reflected back to her father’s terse acknowledgements of her artwork. She had always interpreted his reaction as apathy, but perhaps he had simply been masking pain. Suddenly Jenny developed an understanding of a reaction she’d misinterpreted for fifteen years.
Blinking away tears, Jenny confessed, “I always thought he just didn’t like them.”
Isabelle took Jenny’s hand. “Honey, he loved them. He just wished he could have been the one to give you that talent.”
A couple of tears worked their way down Jenny’s cheeks. “I can’t tell you how devastating that was to me, and it was just a misunderstanding.” Isabelle remained silent, allowing Jenny to continue. “He always had baseball pictures of Brad, Tyler, and Brandon all over the house, but he never once hung one of my paintings. I thought he wasn’t as proud of me as he was of them.”
“Oh, honey, he was proud of you. Very, very proud.”
But the damage is already done, Jenny thought. She had since come to terms with her low self-esteem that had stemmed from her father’s seemingly blatant favoritism. She also recognized that low self-esteem was why she was willing to be treated so poorly by Greg, which had admittedly made her upset with her father lately. But now she realized it wasn’t favoritism. It was masked hurt.
She wondered how different her life could have been if she had known that earlier.
Not wanting to make her mother feel worse than she already did, Jenny kept that notion to herself.
“So I’m guessing Dad treated you differently after you got back together.” Jenny dabbed her wet cheeks with her napkin.
“Most definitely. Strangely enough, our separation was the best thing that ever happened to our marriage. He had a lot more sympathy for what my days were like after that, and he actually became helpful in the evenings instead of just parking it on the couch and complaining about how messy the place was. In return I was a lot less resentful, and we started to get along a lot better.”
Jenny smiled genuinely at her mother. “I’m glad to hear that, ma.”
“Yeah…It was a happy ending after all.”
The waitress arrived with their pizza, causing a temporary pause in the conversation. After they got settled, Jenny continued. “So
…you wouldn’t happen to remember Rod’s last name, would you?”
“I sure do. It was Epperly.”
Jenny recalled the private investigator that had helped her find Elanor; perhaps he’d be able to help her find her father, too. “I imagine his first name is really Roderick?”
“Actually, no. It was Roddan.”
“Roddan? Is that even a name?”
Isabelle giggled. “I told you, he was a hippie.”
“But he didn’t name himself.”
“I remember him telling me his mother grew up in Iceland. Maybe it’s common over there, like John.”
“Well, at least this…unique name will make him easier to find. I can’t imagine there are tons of Roddan Epperlys running around this world.”
“Probably not. I just hope he’s not living in a tent. That would make finding him a lot harder.” Isabelle giggled, but her face soon turned serious. “Sweetie, if you do end up finding him…could you please do me a favor.”
“What is it, ma?”
Isabelle bowed her head and closed her eyes. “I’d like you to tell him I’m sorry.”
Chapter 3
Zack had just finished giving a detailed description of the floor plan of the house, concluding by mentioning the family-oriented nature of the neighborhood.
“It sounds really nice,” Jenny said as she smoothed out the covers on her lap. “I’m glad you put a bid in.”
“We should know by tomorrow if they accept it. I offered full asking price, so I can’t imagine why they’d say no. We…actually, you…can also pay cash, so they have some flexibility in the closing date. They’d have to be beyond stupid to decline the offer.” Zack sounded like he was eating something on the other end of the line.
“Indeed.”
“You sound tired,” Zack noted. “I guess you had a pretty long day.”
“I am tired,” Jenny confessed with a yawn. “And it was a very long day.”
