Lessons From a Younger Lover (20 page)

Gwen started her car and pulled away quickly. She wanted to put as much distance between Isis and Brea as possible. Belatedly, she wondered whether it was a good idea to leave Brea at the house. Even though it was locked, the woman seemed the type who wasn't past putting a brick through a plate-glass window.
Maybe I should call the police? No, I need to call Ransom
. Gwen reached into her purse for her cell phone and Bluetooth. She was putting the device on her ear when she looked over at Isis. The child was staring straight ahead, crying silently.

“It's going to be okay, Princess,” Gwen said, unconsciously using Ransom's term of endearment. “I'm calling your father now.”

“I don't want to go with her,” Isis whispered.

“Shh, don't worry about that. Your father will take care of everything.” Gwen quickly hit 10 on her speed dial. Ransom's answering machine picked up immediately, meaning hers wasn't the first left message. Gwen hit the pound key to bypass the outgoing message.

“Ransom, this is Gwen. You need to call me as soon as you get this message. It's important.” She almost hung up before adding, “Isis is okay, it's just that…just call me.”

Gwen disconnected the call and sent an emergency text through. If Ransom had his phone on him, which he normally did, it would vibrate. She looked over at Isis, who, while no longer crying, stared wide-eyed out the window. For the first time since Gwen had met Isis, the always-in-motion ball of energy was as still as a statue. She was traumatized, Gwen knew, and experiencing a myriad of emotions right now.

For the second time that day, Gwen wanted to kick a grown woman's ass. How dare that woman waltz into town like she owned it, barge into this child's life, and demand an audience? Gwen's heart physically constricted as she ached for Isis. She'd always been close to her mother and, even in Lorraine's worsening mental state, Gwen didn't know what she'd do without her. She couldn't imagine growing up without a female presence, a role model, a nurturing influence in one's life. In that moment, a protective feeling for Isis came over Gwen as powerful as any birth mother could ever experience. Gwen glimpsed another look at the girl, who looked so much like her father, and knew then that she would do whatever it took, absolutely everything, to protect her.

“That was kinda scary back there, huh?” Gwen asked softly.

Isis nodded.

“You want to talk about it?”

Isis shook her head no.

Gwen waited a beat. “I tell you what. We'll hit the drive-through for two yummy chocolate shakes and a bag of fries. Chocolate always helps my tummy feel better.”

Isis said nothing.

Gwen batted away tears and spoke from her heart. “Isis, I love you. I love you as much as any mommy ever could.”

They drove in silence until Gwen took the next exit two miles down. When she looked over at Isis, the merest beginning of a smile was on the child's face.

Ransom called while Gwen and Isis were waiting to place their order. “Gwen, what's wrong?”

Gwen kept her tone as casual as possible; she knew a little pitcher with big ears was listening to every syllable. “Someone stopped by your house while Isis and I were there.”

“Don't tell me, Carol. What did she say?”

“It was Brea.”

Silence. One second. Two seconds, five.

“She didn't stay long,” Gwen continued, when Ransom remained quiet. “I asked for her number for you to call her but she…prefers to contact you directly.”

Ransom's voice was deathly calm. “Where's Isis?”

Again, Gwen worked to sound normal, as if she were discussing the weather, or a Cubs game. “The little princess is right here, about to dig into a cold shake and hot fries in about sixty seconds. Hold on.” Gwen paid for the order and took the food from the window. She checked to make sure they had ketchup, salt, and straws, and pulled away.

When Ransom spoke again, there was relief in his voice. “Thank you, Gwen. Whatever happened, I know it went better because you were there. How is my baby?”

“Here, I'm sure she wants to talk to you.” Gwen pulled over, took off her earpiece, and helped Isis adjust it over her ear.

“Daddy, I'm scared. I don't want to go with her! She's pretty but she's mean. Is she really my mommy, Daddy? 'Cause I don't like her.”

Ransom closed his eyes, so angry at Brea that he could barely breathe. What in the hell was she doing in Sienna, and what right did she think she had to come by his house!
Wait, how does she even know where I live?
Ransom took a breath and tried to concentrate on what Isis was saying. Almost anybody could have given Brea his address. That was beside the point. The point was, she was there now, and she would have to be dealt with.

Isis listened as Ransom talked. Whatever he said must have soothed her, because she visibly relaxed and began eating her fries. She even laughed at something he said, looked over at Gwen, and laughed again. “Uh-huh,” Isis said in response to something Ransom said. “Yes!” Isis took a long drink of her chocolate shake and started swinging her right leg. “Okay, I promise,” she said. Then she took off the earpiece and gave it to Gwen.

Gwen's brow creased as she listened to the one-sided conversation. What had Ransom said to change that child's attitude so quickly? Then Gwen almost blushed, knowing what he could do to change
her
attitude in a heartbeat. She put on the earpiece and pulled back into traffic.

“What do you want me to do? Should I take Isis back to my place until you get here?”

“Absolutely not, Butterfly. I want you to get your fine self to this hotel room and bring my precious daughter. Coming to LA today was the best suggestion you could have made. Are some of my psychic talents starting to rub off on you?”

“If that were the case, there would have been no meeting, trust.”

“Well, I'm not happy there was a confrontation and I'm definitely not happy Brea came to see Isis without contacting me. The same person who gave her my address could have probably given her my number. But I am grateful that you were there, and so is Isis. And just so you know, Gwen Marie Butterfly Andrews, I'm going to have to think up a very special way to say thank you.”

By the time Gwen and Isis reached the hotel, Isis was back to being her rambunctious self. As soon as Ransom opened the door to his room, Isis jumped in his arms and squeezed his neck tightly. After that endearing moment, she became a chatterbox of questions, all having to do with their trip to the theme park: when they were going (tomorrow, Princess), how long they would stay (as long as you want), what all would they ride (everything), and could they come back and next time bring Tianna?

Ransom looked over at Gwen, who was about to explode with laughter. He turned to his daughter and answered, “We'll see.”

“Daddy, is that woman my mommy?”

Isis's abrupt change of subject also changed the mood. The smile faded from Gwen's face. Ransom took a deep, calming breath.

“Why don't I go to my room and freshen up,” Gwen suggested. She blew Ransom a kiss and left the room.

“Come here, Princess. Let's have a little powwow on the couch.”

Father and daughter walked over to the couch and sat down. Isis turned big, questioning eyes toward her father. Ransom put his arm around her and began to talk.

“Remember two years ago when we went to the park with Carol and Kari? We saw children playing with two parents, remember?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you ask me then?”

“I asked you why Kari only had a mommy and I only had a daddy.”

Ransom smiled. “And what did I tell you?”

Now it was Isis's turn to smile as she cuddled closer to her father. “You told me that it was so you could have all my love.” Isis spread her arms wide and drew out the word “all” for several seconds, as Ransom had done years before.

“That's right, Princess. So I could have all your love. And so I could give you all of mine. And that is the most important thing for you to remember: that I will always protect you, that you will always be my princess, and that I will always give you all my love.

“The woman who came to the house today, her name is Brea. Brea and I were boyfriend and girlfriend when I was a teenager. What are teen ages?”

“Daddy! That's easy. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…”

“All right, all right. That was too easy a question for someone as smart as you. I was nineteen, and she and I dated. We went to movies, out to eat—”

“Like you and Miss Gwen.”

“Yes, like me and Miss Gwen.”

“So you and Miss Gwen
are
boyfriend and girlfriend!”

“Miss Gwen and I are best friends, like you and Kari.”

“Unh-unh. My best friend is Tianna now!”

Ransom laughed as his daughter jumped from one topic to the other, and marveled at how quickly kids could change, adjust, navigate circumstances. For them life was simple, and the only thing constant was change. He trusted this resiliency would help get Isis through the days ahead. He hoped it for himself as well.

“Okay, Princess. Your best friend is Tianna. My best friend is Gwen. And right now, we're talking about Brea. Isis, she is your mother.”

Isis frowned and crossed her arms in a huff. “But if she's my mommy, why doesn't she live with us? Why did she leave me with you? Where does she live?”

“Always full of questions, aren't you?” Ransom tugged Isis's braid affectionately. “Brea was very young when you were born. She was a teenager too.”

Ransom continued talking to Isis, telling her about how he and Brea modeled together, and that Brea had moved to New York so she could work there. He answered all of Isis's questions as best he could, assured her that she would continue to stay with him, and that he wouldn't let Brea take her away.

After Isis had exhausted her supply of questions, it was Ransom's turn to ask one of her. “Brea probably wishes she hadn't waited so long to come see you, probably wants to know the beautiful girl you now are. If she wants to meet, to talk to you a little bit, do you want to see her?”

Isis pondered the question a long moment. “Will you be there?” she finally asked.

Ransom nodded. “Of course.”

“Then maybe I'll talk to her. As long as she isn't mean.”

Gwen jumped at the sound of tapping on the side door that joined her room with Ransom's.

“That was fast,” she said as she opened the door.

Ransom took her into his arms and gave her a long, slow kiss. “I've wanted to do that all day.”

Gwen pressed herself against Ransom. He bent down and brushed his tongue across the nipple barely concealed behind thin ribbed cotton, and then sucked it into his mouth.

“What about Isis?” Gwen whispered.

“Sound asleep.”

It had been a full day. After Ransom's talk with Isis, the three had gone to dinner and then a movie. Gwen doubted Isis would awake before morning. “Then come to bed,” she said.

Ransom's lovemaking was slow and deliberate, each thrust seeming to pierce Gwen's soul. Gwen bit Ransom's shoulder to keep from crying out. Afterward, they lay quiet and satisfied for a long time, Ransom drawing lazy eights across Gwen's flat stomach.

“You asleep?”

Gwen turned her back to Ransom and scooted in so he could spoon her. “No. I'm thinking about Isis, and what a wonderful father she has.”

Ransom kissed Gwen's shoulder. “Do you think I should let Brea see her?”

Gwen sighed. “I don't know. I think most would agree that a child benefits from knowing both parents, from being able to identify her roots. But if that parent has been absent, I think one has to look at how reentering the child's life will affect her. But then again, I'm probably not the best one to ask, Ransom. My first impression of Brea was not a good one. So better to ask someone neutral: a therapist, your mother, even Miss Mary. Because I just don't know…”

The rest of the weekend passed quickly. Ransom, Gwen, and Isis spent Saturday at Universal Studios and Sunday at the beach. They were all exhausted by the time they went back to the hotel to get Gwen's car and go home.

Ransom and Gwen conversed via their cell phones during almost the entire two-hour trip back to Sienna. Isis busied herself with a new video game her father had bought at Universal City Walk, a maze of stores and eateries adjacent to the theme park. After exiting into Sienna and making plans to drop Isis off at Gwen's the next morning, Ransom ended the call, honked his horn to wave at Gwen, and turned toward home.

As soon as he turned the corner, he saw her. Ransom was stunned. He'd been fully prepared to have a confrontation with Brea, but he'd never once considered that Brea's mother, Pam, would be at his house.

Ransom liked Pam. When he and Brea first started dating, she still lived at home. Ransom practically lived there too. Pam treated him like a son, and openly approved of their relationship. When Brea became pregnant, Pam wasn't thrilled, but she was supportive. As the relationship became strained, Pam became less friendly toward him, and when he went after full custody of Isis, they stopped speaking.

Ransom glanced at the backseat. Isis was sleeping peacefully. He decided to leave her there while he scoped out the mood of his visitor. Then taking a positive approach, he put a small smile on his face and opened the door.

“Pam, what a surprise.”

“Yeah, I'll bet. How are you, Ransom?”

The two hugged.

“Better than I was on Friday,” he answered honestly. “Why didn't Brea call me, set things up to see Isis instead of just showing up like she did?”

“You know my child's beautiful but not always bright. I told her she shouldn't have done what she did. But she is Isis's mother, Ransom. She has a right to know her child.”

“She signed those rights away, Pam.”

“Look, I'm not here to argue with you and I'm not here to discuss legalities. I don't care what Brea signed, or how long she's been gone. A mother has a right to know the baby she brought into the world.” Pam looked at Ransom's car. “She in there?”

Ransom nodded. “Asleep,” he said, as he walked to the car.

Pam followed. They were both silent as Ransom took Isis out of the car, walked to the door, and let them inside.

“She's adorable,” Pam said as Ransom laid Isis on her bed. “Looks like you. She has Brea's nose though, and look at that chin!” Tears came to Pam's eyes as she continued. “I was so mad at you when you took custody of Isis. I'm not saying you were wrong to do it. Brea acted irresponsibly, and you did what you had to. But I never should have stopped being a part of my granddaughter's life.” Pam ran her hand across Isis's hair. “I've missed so much.”

Ransom spent the next hour filling Pam in on much of what she'd missed. They flipped through photo albums and Isis's drawings and school papers. They reminisced about old times, the good times, when Pam felt sure Ransom would become her son-in-law. Their easy camaraderie returned, and Ransom remembered why he liked Pam so much. She was warm and down to earth, most of the time. And she had a lot of common sense, something Ransom's father swore was in short supply. Brea's actions seemed to affirm his father's belief.

After finishing the cup of tea Ransom had offered, Pam prepared to leave. “I still don't know what happened to break you and Brea up. I thought y'all were good together. You know I always thought of you as my son-in-law.”

Ransom took Pam's cup and rose from the couch. “Yeah, well, life happens. We were young, got caught up. But Isis came out of our relationship so…that made everything worth it.”

Pam followed Ransom into the kitchen. “Brea tells me there was some old chick taking care of Isis? Someone my age?”

“Isis is well taken care of,” Ransom responded, sidestepping Pam's obvious search for information.

“She's her babysitter?”

Ransom turned and put his hands on Pam's shoulders. “It's been good seeing you again, Pam. I was leery when I pulled up and saw you but…I'm glad we had this chance to reconnect.”

They hugged.

“What about Brea?” Pam asked. “Will she have a chance to reconnect with her child? You know how proud and stubborn she is, Ransom, but she misses her daughter. And whether or not she knows it, Isis misses Brea, too.”

“Isis doesn't know Brea, Pam.”

“Don't matter. Brea is that child's mother, and not a babysitter, or teacher, or anybody else in the world can take the place of a mother's love.”

Ransom hid a frown. Brea had obviously been talking to someone who thought they knew his business, and relayed what she'd heard to Pam. He intended to find out who had talked to her, and why.

Pam reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here's Brea's number. Will you call her?”

Ransom took the paper and studied it for a moment. “We'll see.”