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Authors: Judy Griffith Gill

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BOOK: A Father for Philip
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Still, she reflected later, it wasn’t
that awful feeling of being stared at that had kept her awake all night or most
of it. That’s it been the direct result Grant’s insulting comment. Wondering if
she could be frigid had made her remember David so vividly she even dreamed of
his face... No, she corrected herself, not his face, really... His eyes.

Well, if Grant is going to do that to
me, then I’ll never be able to forget enough to even consider marrying him. The
best thing to do would be keep away from him for a while, do a bit of
soul-searching completely on my own. With this in mind Eleanor sent her son off
to school and walked up to the farm to use the telephone. She’d never bothered
to have a line brought down to the cottage. It would have meant putting in an
extra pole which, to her mind, would have been an eyesore. She certainly
couldn’t afford a buried cable like the one David had insisted on for the
electricity. But then, he’d dug the trench for that himself, saving a great
deal of money. Besides, she didn’t need a phone. The powerful Wi-Fi modem in
the farmhouse gave her good Internet connection, and that was all that
mattered.

Grant sounded surprised by her call, as
well as cool and unforgiving. Though what he had to forgive her for she did not
know. His had been the unforgivable behavior. He put up no argument when she
suggested they not see each other for a few weeks.

“Okay by me,” he said. “I’m trying to
get hold of a big tract of land on the North Thompson River, just outside
Kamloops. I’ll be up there for a while. I’ll probably be back sometime in
June... Around the middle, I’d say. If you change your mind about us in the
meantime, feel free to give me a call. I’ll be in touch when I get back. So
long, Ellie.”

“So long, Grant.”

So long, she repeated silently. So long
and it didn’t bother me a bit to say it. What’s wrong with me that I don’t care
about Grant’s going away, and going away mad, at that? He’s been the only man
I’ve dated over the past four years, and for the three before that, I didn’t
date at all, or feel the urge to.

I don’t need a man in my life, which
explains why there hasn’t been one.

No... No man, save a ghost.

 
Chapter Four

 

A week and a half had passed since
Eleanor had said “so long” to Grant, and she had yet to feel that she missed
him, or to feel any nearer to a decision with regard to their future. She had
worked hard during that time. She’d emailed off her latest manuscript, complete
with sketches to guide the artist Appleton Publishing would hire. They’d
offered her another contract, which she hadn’t yet signed, so she felt
completely unburdened. Maybe, she thought, this would be a good time to take a
much-needed break, or even seek out another publisher.

She’d give it some consideration.
Perhaps she could get a more lucrative deal elsewhere. Appleton paid poorly,
but she’d stuck with them out of loyalty. Loyalty to the company, and loyalty
to Grant.

But she didn’t need to rush into
anything. Besides, Kathy was coming to spend the afternoon with her sewing.

Eleanor went to meet the glowing
mother-to-be. “My goodness, Kath!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anyone quite
as pregnant as you are.” She took the bundle of pastel printed flannel from
Kathy. “We sure there’s only one in there?”

Kathy’s infectious grin broke out.
“Nope,” she said cheerfully, “the doctor told me this morning she thinks we’re
doing a double on her. She’s pretty sure he can hear two distinct heartbeats.”

“You’re kidding!” Eleanor gave the
younger woman a hug. “Twins? She really thinks so? So now you’re going to have
that ultrasound she wanted you to have a weeks and weeks ago?”

Kathy shook her head and sat heavily on
the cushion Eleanor placed for her on a high-backed Adirondack chair at the end
of the table in the arbor. “I am not.” Her tone firm, she added, “I told her
and I told Bill, I refuse to expose my unborn child to any unnecessary
radiation. Luckily, Bill agrees with me. Women had twins for many years before
there was such a thing as ultrasound examination. I’m young, strong, and
healthy and if I’m having two babies at once so be it.”

She laughed. “But the way I feel, I
could be having a foal or a calf for all I know.” She folded her arms along the
top of her protruding tummy. “All I know is that whatever is growing inside me,
it, or they, better hurry up and get here soon. I’m sick to death of waiting.”

“Oh ho,” jeered Eleanor gently. “Where’s
the girl who not so very long ago said she’d give it away if it came before the
end of June? Still nearly six weeks to go, my pet.”

“Don’t remind me.” Kathy groaned,
pulling a face. She reached for another tiny night gown which required a hem.
“I really can’t take much more of this though, Ellie.”

“I know. I remember,” said Eleanor
sympathetically. “Gosh, seven years ago. Sometimes it feels like forever, yet
others, it seems like only yesterday. It’s Philip’s birthday on Sunday,
remember. And you and Bill are coming for dinner. There will be a cake, with
cherries in it,” she added as extra inducement.

“Oh, we’ll be here. Wouldn’t miss it for
anything... Except accept perhaps for my own ‘whatever’s’ birthday. How goes
the imaginary friend? Jeff, wasn’t it? All forgotten I imagine.”

Eleanor rubbed her forehead with the
back of her hand. “Oh, no. He’s still very much in evidence. I have to send
extra cookies and things out into the woods for Phil to share with ‘Jeff’. Last
week we had dinner at the hotel with Grant, and ‘Jeff’ even shared our table,
eating exactly what Philip did. I have to say one thing for ‘Jeff’, though,”
she laughed. “He’s a nice quiet guest. I didn’t even know he was there until
Philip told me. And I even smiled at him,” she added in mockery of her son’s
words.

“My, how wonderful,” Kathy giggled.
Then, “But speaking of Grant, which you haven’t in the past few days, where is
he? I haven’t seen him around at all.”

“Oh, he’s gone to Kamloops to wheel and
deal. I think he’s trying to option some land up there. I don’t know when he’ll
be back,” Eleanor replied with an off-hand shrug. “How many pairs of sleepers
have you made so far, Kath?” she asked to change the subject. She was enjoying
a vacation from Grant and his sometimes oppressive presence.

The two talked of many things for the
next couple of hours, sipping iced tea, and sewing industriously until Eleanor
broke up the work by saying, “Want some cookies?”

They left the shady arbor over which the
buds of week before it burst into golden massive perfumed blossoms which bobbed
on the breeze in thick, short-stemmed clusters, attracting bees and
hummingbirds.

In the cool kitchen Eleanor poured more
tea into tall, frosted glasses, added thin twists of lemon, placed the glasses
on a tray with a plate of cookies and carried it all through to the living
room. Kathy was sitting in an overstuffed chair, shoes off, feet propped on the
coffee table, her hands clasped complacently over her belly. She grinned at
Eleanor.

“Don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” Eleanor assured her
friend. “Have I ever?”

“Well, the last time we came for dinner,
Grant gave me one of his looks when I put my feet on the coffee table.”

“This is my home, not Grant’s, and if he
doesn’t like my rules, he knows where to put them. In my household coffee
tables were meant to be foot stools. Want a pillow under your feet?” Without
waiting for a reply, she lifted Kathy’s feet and slid a cushion under her
heels. “Besides,” she added, feeling a touch wistful, “pregnant women deserve
to be pampered.”

Oh,
heavens! Am I really feeling envious of a woman with that enormous girth?

“Did you and Grant have a fight, Ellie?”
Kathy asked with sympathy.

“Sort of,” Eleanor replied, still
looking at Kathy’s big tummy.

“Why don’t you marry him? And in no time
at all you could look just like me.”

Eleanor laughed for a moment at the
proudly pregnant woman, then sobered. She knew a genuine interest in her
welfare prompted Kathy to ask such a personal question—friendship, not idle
curiosity—and she replied in the same spirit.

“I haven’t agreed to marry him because I
don’t think I love him. I’m not even sure he loves me, Kath.” She went on to
describe the happenings of the night the dinner date and ended saying, “if he
actually loved me and didn’t just want me, physically, he’d never have made
that crack about my being frigid. It was insulting.”

“Maybe the guy’s just getting desperate.
Lord knows he’s hung around long enough for you to make up your mind sixteen
times. What is it, four years?” At Eleanor’s unhappy nod, she went on. “Well,
after that long, even the most patient of suitors has a right to get a little
frustrated.”

“I’ve told him many time, he’s not
obligated to stick around. It’s been his choice. And it’s only been the past
few months that I could have been said to be ‘free’, and even now I’m not...
Not legally, unless I have David declared dead.”

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know, Kathy. I honestly don’t
know.”

“Do you still hope you’ll come back?
Still love him that much?”

“I don’t know that, either, Kath. But I
do know if he did come back, say today, he’d be a different man from the one
who left me here, and I might not care for him at all. In fact if he did come
back, he’d have to have an awfully damned good reason for having stayed away so
long or I wouldn’t have a thing to do with him.”

“Well, I guess not!” exclaimed Kathy
indignantly. “After all, a man can’t just walk out for seven years and expect
to come charging back whenever he feels like it.” She ran her fingers across
the empty cookie plate Eleanor had placed on the end table beside her chair,
within easy reach.

“More?” asked Eleanor, and at Kathy’s
pleased expression, rose and went to the kitchen to refill the plate. She let
out a squawk of alarm and poked her head back through the doorway. “Hey,” she
asked Kathy, “did you hear the screen door squeak open?”

“No. Why, is it open?”

“No, but Philip’s lunch kit and books
are on the table, and the cookie can has its lid off, and the little stinker’s
disappeared. Must be off in the woods again with his dear friend ‘Jeff’.” She
returned to the living room. “Oh, Kathy, I do wish he’d give up on that
business.”

“Take it easy,” Kathy said with her
mouth full.. “Just give him some time, Ellie. He will give up on it when he
outgrows the need for it... Having imaginary friends, I mean. Remember when it
was Solomon the Soldier?”

Eleanor laughed at the memory. “Lord,
yes. And woe betide any of us who referred to the fellow simply as Solomon. The
whole title, or nothing at all.” She sobered, frowning again. “But this time
it’s different, somehow. He’s making up the most intricate details about ‘Jeff’.
They began by cutting down the trees, clearing away the brush and laying the
foundation. They even put in the base for the fireplace. Now, they’re putting
up walls. The way he talks about it is uncanny, almost as though he really were
involved in the building of a log cabin. The work is going ahead at what seems
like a likely rate. You’d think it slip up once in a while and put in a window
before building the wall, or something.”

“Just shows the child has a level head
on his shoulders. And,” Kathy added, “that he has the same talent for making up
stories as his mother does.”

“I suppose,” Eleanor replied doubtfully.
“But I worry about him. Besides, I don’t make up my stories; I just take the
old legends which have existed for centuries and weave fictional characters
into them.”

“Could be that’s what Philip’s doing.
Perhaps he’s following the story he’s hearing from his teacher. She might be
reading them a frontier type book, chapter by chapter, and he’s acting it out
in his after-school play. But look, Ellie, if you’re really worried about him,
why not walk over to where he’s playing and sneak a look at him?”

“No!” Eleanor yelped sharply, then
seeing the astonished look on her friend’s face, she went on more quietly,
“Sorry, Kathy. I didn’t mean to yell at you. But I stay the side of the creek.
There are too many memories over there on the other side of the hill.” Her eyes
had a faraway look in them. “Too many ghosts...”

As if not wanting to intrude on
Eleanor’s memories, Kathy remained silent for a long time then she said gently,
“Maybe you should walk over there just once and see if you can lay those
ghosts, Ellie. Maybe they’re still there because you want them to be.” When she
received no reply she rose clumsily to her feet. “I’m going to stagger off home,
now,” she said, “before I’m tempted to eat even one more of your decadent
chocolate-chip cookies. My doc says she doesn’t want me gaining any more
weight.”

“I’ll walk you home. Eleanor pulled
herself back with an effort from that far place and time she had been visiting.

“No need. I can make it,” Kathy smiled.

“Not on your life. Now I know there
might be two babies waiting on for their turn on earth, I intend to look after
you. After all,” Eleanor grinned, pushing Kathy up the gentle slope ahead of
her, “who else has their own private army of one tank?”

The ‘tank’ laughed, and when the two
women reached the farmhouse door Eleanor turned to go. “See you Sunday, love.
Take care.”

“Sunday... Unless...” Said Kathy
wistfully.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed those
babies stay right where they are,” Eleanor said. “It’s way too soon for them to
make an appearance yet.”

~ * ~

When Philip got off the school bus he
walked slowly down the path toward home. He was feeling very, very blue. He had
a note in his lunch kit from Miss Walker. She hadn’t given him one at first. He
had asked her why he didn’t get one when all the other kids did. Miss Walker
had got all red in the face and her eyes got sort of shiny and she’d said,
“Philip, dear, it’s just a reminder to the fathers that tomorrow is the day
they’re going to get the sports field ready for sportsday.”

“My mom would come.”

“No, Philip. I’m afraid not. But your
mom is making sandwiches and a cake for the picnic after the races on Monday,
isn’t she?”

“Yeah... But give me a note anyway,
please Miss Walker. I’ll give it to my friend Jeff. He’s building a log cabin
and he’s real strong he could do more work than all those dumb old dads.”

Miss Walker had looked sad and given him
a copy of the form letter. On the bus, Jamie Peters, who was fat and had a fat
dad, too, said, “Aw, you haven’t got a dad to help with the field and I bet
your old Jeff guy won’t come either. I bet you haven’t even got a friend named
Jeff.”

“I have so! I have so! You wait! You ask
your dad after Saturday and see what he says! My friend Jeff will so come and
help!”

“I can’t ask my dad after Saturday cause
he won’t even be there. He’s got better things to do. He has a golf game with
his boss. I bet your old Jeff guy’s got better things planned, too.”

Oh. Maybe Jeff
wouldn’t
go to the school to help. This hadn’t occurred to Philip
before, but now it weighed heavily on his mind. He trudged slowly down the path
and into the house, creeping quietly inside. He didn’t want to talk to his
mother just yet.

BOOK: A Father for Philip
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