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"I'm merely pointing out to you that you're treading on thin ice here. I was kind enough to permit this visit, but we don't want to do anything that will disrupt our relationship with Kelly. If it means applying for legal remedies, you can be assured we will do so," he added, regaining his composure. Jimmy simply glared at him.
"Thank you, Mr. Osborne," I said, rising. "I'm sorry there's been any trouble at all. Mrs. Osborne, thank you," I added, turning her way.
She smiled and stood up.
"It's difficult for everyone now, I know, but events have taken their course, and we must follow through for Kelly's sake as well as our own. In the end I'm sure you will agree it's been for the best," she said softly.
Her soothing tones eased Jimmy. He relaxed, and the crimson left his cheeks. He nodded at her, and then we started out of the house. When we reached the front door I turned back and looked at the stairway. I was positive I saw Fern kneeling at the top, gazing at us from under the balustrade. Without so much as a good-bye Clayton Osborne closed the door behind us.
"I hate that kind of guy; I've always hated them," Jimmy muttered as we walked down the stone stairway. "Somehow, some way. ."
"Jimmy, don't aggravate yourself now. I don't know if you can do anything at this point. Just as he said, the law is on their side, not ours."
"It doesn't seem right, Dawn. Not to be able to tell her who we are, not even now," he complained. "Damn." He looked back at the townhouse door. "Even though they're obviously rich people, I don't feel we're leaving her in a good home," he added.
He took my hand, and we hurried up to the corner to catch a cab and return to our hotel. Shortly after we arrived there I called home to be sure everything was all right with Christie. Mrs. Boston put her on the phone, and we both spoke with her. She rattled on and on about her toy ranch house, but she didn't forget to ask if we were bringing her anything from this trip.
"Now, Christie Longchamp, you know it's not nice to ask for things," I said. "Especially after you've just gotten such a wonderful present."
"You sound just like Clayton Osborne," Jimmy complained from the sidelines. "We can bring her a little something."
"Your father is spoiling you," I told her, my eyes on Jimmy. He laughed at the fire in them.
"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands and backing away. "Whatever you say."
After we spoke with Christie and Mrs. Boston we decided to shower and dress for dinner. The emotional and traumatic events of the day had been overwhelming for both of us, and we both looked forward to a fine, elegant dinner and the chance to relax. I had been toying with the idea of calling and perhaps even visiting with Mrs. Liddy and Agnes Morris, but I decided that it was probably not a good time. Jimmy's mind was too occupied with Fern. I didn't even call Trisha, because I knew she would want to meet us for dinner, and I didn't think Jimmy was in the mood for company, even though Trisha's effervescence might be just the antidote for melancholy we both required.
Jimmy couldn't stop talking about Fern while we were dressing.
"She sure looks a lot like Momma now, doesn't she?" he asked.
"Yes, she does. She reminds me of the one picture I have of Momma, the one with her standing under that tree," I said.
"That's right," he said excitedly. Then his face turned gray and sad again.
"At least we saw Fern and know she is healthy and well," I said.
"Healthy, yes. Well? I'm not so sure about her emotional and psychological health," Jimmy replied. "I've been thinking and thinking about the way Clayton Osborne spoke to her in our presence. I know he's a stuffed shirt and all, but it was like he was speaking to a servant or some orphan he was forced to take in. I didn't sense any love between them, did you?"
"I don't know, Jimmy. I don't know if it's fair to judge him on one meeting like this. He was upset with Fern's behavior at school. Apparently she has been in trouble repeatedly. Maybe she needs some discipline. Leslie Osborne certainly seemed like a nice enough person, didn't she?"
"Yeah," he admitted reluctantly, "but Clayton's the one who rules that roost."
"She is being exposed to fine things and will have wonderful opportunities," I said.
"Sometimes that's not enough, Dawn. Clara Sue was certainly exposed to nice things and wonderful opportunities, and look how she turned out. No, there's something missing in that house, something warm and necessary. Hell, as mean and as bad as Daddy could be sometimes, he still looked at us in a way that made us feel he cared in a pinch, didn't he?"
"Jimmy," I said softly, "I'm afraid you're just reaching, looking for something wrong. There's nothing we can do now, nothing," I said.
He nodded and lowered his head in defeat. I didn't like saying it so firmly, but I saw no other way. In silence we continued to get dressed. However, just as we were both ready to leave and had started toward the door, we heard a knock. We looked at each other, wondering who that could be. We hadn't called anyone in New York, and we had just spoken with the hotel, so we didn't expect any messages. Jimmy stepped forward to open the door.
There stood Fern, dressed in a dark blue wool jacket and jeans with a beret on her head. Jimmy gaped in astonishment, and for a moment he couldn't speak.
"Kelly, dear," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"I ran away," she declared proudly.
"Ran away? Why? And why would you come running to us?" I asked.
