A Quiet Strength (2 page)

“It’s a pretty name.”

Jenny nodded.

“How old is she now?” Virginia carefully pressed on. Surely the child was a safe subject.

“Soon be three.”

She’s very small for her age
, thought Virginia, mentally comparing the little one to the almost-three-year-olds she knew. She wished to ask if the child had been ill, but she dared not. She noticed the little one squirming as though any attention was unnerving. Virginia would try something else.

“So how long are you staying?” she ventured.

Jenny just shrugged her shoulders and reached for another slice of toast.

“We have lots of spare room now,” Virginia hurried to say. “Only Francine and me still at home.”

The words seemed to jog something in Jenny’s mind. “How is … everyone?”

“Doing great. Clara is expecting her third child.”

“Third!” Jenny blurted out, followed by one of her off-color words. “Why three? One’s more’n enough to drive you up the wall.”

Virginia’s eyes flashed to little Mindy. Had she heard the words? Did she understand the meaning? But the expression in the somber eyes did not change.

“Clara is thrilled,” Virginia quickly said. “She already has two healthy sons. I think she would like a girl this time, but it won’t matter if—”

“She can have mine,” cut in Jenny with a forced, hollow laugh.

Virginia chose to ignore the statement. “Rodney is doing very well. Has learned to like the city. He and Grace are expecting their first child. Any day now. Mama runs every time the phone rings. Danny is still in university. He is finishing his course in veterinary medicine. You know how Danny always was about animals,” Virginia chattered on into the silence. “He thinks he would like to work in some large zoo. Anyway, he will be working with his beloved animals in one way or another. Francine is finishing up her last school year. She’s … well … you’ll meet her later. She spent the night with a friend. She’s quite a pretty little thing. Too pretty, I sometimes think, but Mama manages to keep her feet on the ground and her head out of too many clouds. Though it is—”

“And you?” Jenny, finally slowing down between bites, broke in.

Virginia stopped. “Me what?”

“How are things going with you? I thought you would have been Mrs. Jamison long ago. Raising a pack of kids of your own.”

Virginia felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “There is another Mrs. Jamison Curtis. A wonderful girl. I’m very happy for them both.”

“Jamison dumped you?”

Jenny’s voice now held the same aggressive candor as the Jenny of old.
Perhaps the old spunk is still there after all
, Virginia was thinking, feeling some relief that it might be so. She nodded. “I lost Jamison,” she agreed matter-of-factly, but inwardly she was surprised. It had happened such a long time ago. Even before Jenny’s motorcar accident. Hadn’t they talked of it? Or had Jenny just forgotten?

“And you just sit there and take it calmly?” Jenny went on.

Virginia nodded; then a slight smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t take it very calmly—at the time,” she admitted.

“So you let him know he was scum?”

“He’s not ‘scum,’ “ Virginia defended stoutly. “He was—is—very gentle and caring.”

“Huh,” replied Jenny with a snort. “A guy throws you over and you call him a gentleman. Boy, Virginia, you still need to grow up.”

Virginia did not know whether to argue for Jamison or rejoice that the Jenny of old was indeed back at her table. But no one had ever been able to provoke her quite like Jenny. She straightened her shoulders and said with some heat, “I am as grown-up as I need to be. And Jamison was right. Oh, I admit it took me some time to see it.” She took a breath and continued more calmly, “We were not suited to each other. Not after he left and went to university and got all involved with football. He’s playing in the major leagues, you know. Doing well. I would have never liked that kind of life. Away from family. Always gone a lot. I—”

“Football? You’re joshing me.
Jamison
a football player?”

“He’s in his first year. Quarterback.”

“I can’t believe it.” Jenny paused and her eyes took on a bit of shine. At length she shook her head. It was the same old shake, but the curls looked dull and tired in the morning light. “Maybe I should have tried a little harder,” she said, looking coy. “But then, you never would let me even close to the boy.”

Virginia thought back to their girlhood. There were times when Jenny had been close all right. Too close. Like the time of the toboggan party. It still made Virginia flush with remembered anger.

“I think I could quite enjoy life with a football player,” Jenny mused on with a smirk. “It must be exciting.”

It was Virginia’s turn to shrug. Jenny’s words surprised her. What did she mean? She was a married woman….

“So … he finally threw aside all that religious stuff,” Jenny observed, her eyes probing into Virginia’s.

“He did not.” Virginia hurried to set that record straight. “He’s more committed to his faith than ever. He uses every opportunity that comes his way to talk about his beliefs. In his last letter—”

“Last
letter
? You mean he still writes?”

“Yes. I …”

Jenny’s vulgar exclamation in response made Virginia’s face flush, and she looked quickly at the child. But Mindy seemed not to notice her mother’s choice of words.

“What kind of guy is he? Married to one woman and still writing his girlfriend?” Jenny said sarcastically.

“I’m not his girlfriend, Jenny. I’m just his friend. I’m Rachel’s friend, too. We write to each other—every week. She’s a wonderful person.”

“She must be daft. I’d kill Hayden if I found out he was still keeping in touch with one of his old flames.”

Virginia felt anger burn her cheeks. She wanted to lash out in defense of the friendship she enjoyed with Jamison and Rachel, but she forced herself away from the subject. Jenny would not understand. The young woman slumped in the chair across from her thought on another level entirely. Virginia swallowed hard and stilled her whirling thoughts and anxious tongue. When she did speak, it was in a different tone of voice and on another subject. “How is Hayden? That’s his name? Your husband?”

She saw Jenny stiffen and the spark in her eyes fade. One hand reached up and unconsciously touched at a cheekbone. That’s when Virginia noticed the discoloration. Apparently Hayden was not a safe topic, either.

CHAPTER  2

J
enny, what’s wrong?” Virginia started to reach across the table but then thought better of it.

Jenny self-consciously studied her hands for a second, then shrugged her thin shoulders. “What makes you think some? thing’s wrong?”

“Well … I …” She stopped and started over. “Things just don’t seem … right somehow. I mean … we’re pleased to see you and little Mindy. But coming like this … at this hour … without letting us know … It just seems …”

“I didn’t know you’d expect an announcement,” said Jenny rudely, shifting on her chair. “I used to be able to just drop by and feel welcome.”

“And you are welcome now,” Virginia assured her quickly. “Both Mama and I are happy to have you come. Anytime.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Virginia took note of Jenny’s stiff shoulders and jutted chin. This time she did reach out a hand and place it on Jenny’s arm. “There is no problem. We just want to be able to help you in any way we can. But sometimes friends just don’t quite know how that help should come.”

“I don’t remember asking for help,” Jenny said, her voice as stiff as her shoulders.

“Friends shouldn’t need to ask,” replied Virginia slowly, her eyes on the bruised cheek.

Jenny did not seem to have an immediate answer. She began to twist her coffee cup around in hands that were trembling slightly. Eventually when she spoke, her voice, though still defiant, held a slight tremble. “Look—if you must know—it’s no big deal, okay. Hayden and I just had a little tiff—nothing serious. Married folk do that, you know. I just thought it wise to sort of—you know—take a little break. Good for both of us. With a kid around you scarcely have time to think, you know.”

At the mention of the small Mindy, Virginia anxiously looked her way again. But the little girl was leaning back in the big kitchen chair, thumb in mouth and eyes closed.
Poor little thing
, Virginia found herself thinking.
What is her world like anyway?
And then Virginia realized that the little girl was not just closing herself off from her surroundings. She had fallen asleep on her chair.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Virginia, rising quickly to her feet. “She’ll be falling off that seat.”

But as Virginia moved around the table, Jenny responded in the same tired voice, “She won’t fall. She’s used to just dropping off like that. Does it all the time.”

Virginia was shocked. Didn’t the child get proper rest?

“I’ll lay her in on my bed. Will it wake her when I move her?”

“I doubt it. She sleeps through anything.”

As carefully as possible Virginia lifted the little girl, feather-light, into her arms. Mindy stirred but did not open her eyes. Virginia carried her into the bedroom and slipped off her shoes as she laid her on the bed. Covering her with a light blanket, she looked down into the little face. Even in sleep it looked troubled and anxious.

“Mindy,” Virginia whispered. “I don’t know anything about you. Does anyone love you?
Really
love you? Do you know you are loved?”

“Virginia,” Jenny’s voice called from the kitchen. “I’m going out for a cigarette. Don’t suppose you want my smoke in the kitchen. Is the porch swing okay?”

Virginia left the room and closed the door softly behind her before answering. She wished to tell Jenny that the habit she had acquired would bring her nothing but trouble, but she closed her lips tightly on those words and said instead, “Fine. Use the swing.”

“Okay if I take another cup of coffee with me?”

By the time Virginia answered the second question she was entering the kitchen. “Sure. Help yourself. Anything else? A piece of Mama’s lemon pie?”

But Jenny, who had always raved about Belinda’s lemon pie, scrunched up her face. “Oh, no. Lemon pie this time of day? I couldn’t face that.”

“You used to eat lemon pie whenever you could find it. Morning, noon, or night.”

“Well, I don’t anymore.”

Jenny crossed the room to pour her fifth cup of coffee and fumbled in the coat thrown over her chair, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. “You have some matches? I’m out.”

Virginia turned to the metal match holder on the kitchen wall. “How many do you need?”

“A handful.”

Virginia cringed at the thought of how many cigarettes a handful of matches would light but filled her fist.

“Have an ashtray?”

Virginia was sure Jenny knew even as she asked what the answer would be.

“Anything will do—old can, chipped cup, tin lid—anything,” Jenny said carelessly.

Virginia rummaged in the cupboard’s odds-and-ends drawer and came up with a small clean sardine tin. “This do?”

Jenny nodded. “Do you want it back?”

“Put it where you can find it when you need it again,” Virginia suggested.

Jenny nodded and almost ran from the room.

I wonder how long she’s been wanting that cigarette?
Virginia mused as she watched her go. Her eyes shifted to the clock on the wall.
Mama’s been gone an awfully long time. Mrs. Withers must really have a lot of new flowers
, she concluded. She wished her mother would come home. Perhaps she would be able to get through to Jenny.

Virginia set about clearing the table. The few dishes hardly seemed worth washing, but she got out the dishpan and filled it with warm water.
Might as well clean them up now as later
, she mused, but her thoughts were out on the porch swing with her beloved adversary, Jenny.

She was almost through the task when she heard voices on the back porch. Peering out the window, she saw her mother sitting on the opposite end of the porch swing from Jenny. Virginia watched as the younger woman held her cigarette down beside her for several moments and talked with Belinda, obviously trying to be civil.

“Go ahead. Finish your cigarette—that’s what they call them, isn’t it? Do you mind if I just chat while you smoke?” Virginia heard her mother say.

Jenny looked surprised, then confused, then grateful. She lifted the cigarette and inhaled deeply before exhaling in a thin plume. “Spring was late this year,” Virginia’s mother was explaining in neighborly tones. “So Mrs. Withers’ flowers have been slow in coming. She was very worried that some of them might have winter-killed, and so it is added pleasure whenever one of them decides to bloom. She has these giant day lilies just coming out. Gorgeous coloring. She is so pleased. Just has to show them off.”

Jenny gave a short nod in between puffs on her cigarette. Virginia turned away from the window and went back to her dishes.

A small tiff. Was that what Jenny called her disagreement with Hayden?
All couples have them
, she had said. But the discolored spot on Jenny’s cheek that she had tried to hide with makeup hinted at something else. All couples did not have disagreements like that—Virginia knew that to be a fact. Never in her family background had anything like that ever happened. Surely Jenny was not in such a marriage. But Virginia knew nothing of Hayden. She had not even known the name of the man Jenny had married until she had spoken of him that morning.

Does her father know about this?
Virginia’s thoughts continued. Certainly he would not want his daughter and granddaughter to be in such a situation. Never. Virginia could not imagine how her own father would respond in this kind of situation. Her father was very protective of his girls.

But Troy would never treat Clara in that fashion, any more than Rodney would manhandle Grace. It just wouldn’t happen. They had been raised to respect women. To protect and care for them rather than subject them to such humiliation and abuse.

The voices on the back porch carried in through the opened window. “ … so Virginia has been counting the days. Every morning she hopes that this will be the day he will arrive. It’s a good thing she works at the post office. I have a feeling she would be over there anyway, just waiting for the day’s mail to come in. He’s been awfully good about writing, but sometimes the mail gets delayed or stacked up somewhere. Three or four letters arrive all at once.”

“What did you say his name was?” Jenny queried.

“Jonathan. Jonathan Lewis.”

“She does like her
j
s, doesn’t she?”

“Her jays?”

“Yeah. Jamison. Jonathan.”

“Oh,” Belinda laughed softly. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“What’s he like, this Jonathan?”

“Virginia hasn’t told you?”

“We haven’t had much time to talk … yet.”

“Of course. Well, he’s very nice. We all like him. He came to live next door to help care for his grandmother. Mrs. Withers, that’s his grandmother. Virginia was so afraid that someone would move into Mr. Adamson’s little house who wouldn’t care about the flowers. Well, she needn’t have worried. Mrs. Withers is just …”

A mewing little cry came from the bedroom. “Mindy,” murmured Virginia, drying her hands on her apron as she hurried down the hall.
She’s awakened in a strange room. Poor little thing must be frightened half to death
.

She dared not burst into the room lest her sudden appearance frighten the child even further. Should she have called Jenny? Cautiously Virginia opened the bedroom door, expecting to see a bewildered child standing in the middle of a strange room. But Mindy was still on the bed where Virginia had left her, her head on the snowy pillow as Virginia had placed it. Her body had shifted slightly, curling into a tighter ball, and the thumb was still firmly entrenched. The eyes were tightly closed. Already Virginia had become used to expecting the child to close her eyes against anything she did not wish to face, so it took her a moment to realize that the little one was still sound asleep.

“She’s just having a dream,” she whispered to herself.

And then the reality of it hit her. The dream—whatever it was—was not a pleasant one. A nightmare. Did Mindy have nightmares often? What caused them? Why would a little child cry out in such a way in her sleep?

Virginia stood, one hand on the doorknob, one pressed against her breast.
The poor little thing
. Should she waken her and hold her, or let her sleep? After a few moments of wondering, Virginia backed from the room and closed the door softly behind her. But her mind was filled with even more unanswered questions as she made her way back to the kitchen. What was going on in Jenny’s life? What could she do to help?

“So … you’ve been holding out on me,” Jenny accused, mostly good-naturedly yet with a slight sting. It was Virginia’s turn to sit with Jenny on the back porch swing while she inhaled deeply from another cigarette. “ Tell me about this guy you’ve fallen for.”

Virginia turned to face her. “Jonathan?”

“I guess, Jonathan. Unless you’ve got more than one.”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Then tell me about him.”

Virginia felt a bit annoyed. She would have told Jenny about Jonathan. Loved to talk to anyone—everyone—about him, but the opportunity had been slightly spoiled by her mother telling it her way. Just how much she had told Jenny, Virginia didn’t know.

“What have you already heard?” she asked, trying to keep any edge from her voice.

“Not much. Your mother said you have met him—fallen for him. He’s off west somewhere getting the means to support a wife. You’re here waiting, he’s a great guy, and that’s that.”

Virginia felt her feelings of being miffed melt away. She even smiled. “That’s it,” she agreed. “That just about sums it up.”

“Now I want to know the juicy stuff,” prompted Jenny.

“The juicy stuff? Oh, I don’t think you’d find anything very juicy.”

“Try me.”

Virginia stirred self-consciously. “There isn’t … I mean … really there is not much more to tell. We’re not actually even … Really, he’s not even called on me yet.”

“Called? You mean courted? Called. That’s such an old-fashioned term. Fellows don’t ‘call’ anymore—they just court.”

“Well, Jonathan will call. He has already promised. As soon as he gets—”

Virginia stopped short. In her determination to defend Jonathan she was spilling out what Jenny might refer to as the juicy stuff. She felt her face flush. Jenny was actually smiling. Well, it was more a smirk than a smile.

“So he’s an old-fashioned boy, is he? I should have known.” The words carried a tone of scorn. Virginia did not know whether to protest or let them pass. Jonathan
was
an old-fashioned boy by Jenny’s standards, but Virginia liked him that way.

“So you haven’t made wedding plans yet?” Jenny asked frankly.

“No,” said Virginia, her cheeks flushing again. “We haven’t talked of marriage.”

“But you figure you will?”

“Jenny!”

Jenny just grinned. “Maybe he’ll dump you, too—just like your Jamison.”

Virginia caught herself before she answered. She knew the barb was intended to hurt and anger her. Jenny was proving to be even more taunting and cruel than she had been as a defiant youth. Wisely, before she opened her mouth to speak, Virginia remembered that the words were supposed to bring out her worst. Instead of reacting as Jenny no doubt hoped, she managed to say quietly, “Perhaps he will. If so, then he wasn’t the one God had planned for me after all.”