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Authors: Irene Brand

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“She came to the door right after I got home Thursday. I invited her in, but she said that she couldn't stay, and had only recently learned where I was and that she had brought my clothes and other things. I didn't have many clothes, but I did have a collection of stuffed dogs that I had missed, so I went down to the car with her to get them. There was a man in the car, and he pulled me inside, and they drove away with me.”

“We've all been frantic about you, but that telephone call put us on the right track.”

“We stopped at a restaurant, and when I went to the restroom, I found a phone. I put in that call for you, but my mother's companion caught me and hung up before I could tell you much.”

“That was enough,” Roger said. “We have the papers for your release, and we want to return to Maitland today. Are you ready to go?”

“I guess so—I have nothing to take, but could I see my mother before we leave? She looks terrible,” Janie added in a worried voice.

“We can't take you there unless we receive permission from the agency,” Roger replied.

When he checked with the woman on duty in the office, she told him, “We've been trying to get Janie's mother to sign papers giving Clifford Skeen full custody, but she's refused. Perhaps you could persuade her, but I don't want you to go there alone. I'll contact one of our male workers who knows where Mrs. Skeen lives, and he will go along, thus making the visit official. And, of course, you must take the two police officers—it isn't a desirable neighborhood.”

“We'll take Janie across the street for lunch while we wait,” Roger said.

Janie didn't have much appetite and merely nibbled at the hamburger before her. “I feel sorry for my mother,” she admitted, “but I can't live with her. She doesn't know what she's doing most of the time. If you hadn't found me, I would have run away again as soon as she passed out to try to find my way back to Maitland.”

“Then why do you want to see her?” Violet asked.

“I don't know—maybe to convince her that I don't want to live with her. Maybe just to say goodbye,” she added quietly.

Violet's heart ached to witness Janie's distress, but she couldn't close her mind to the dreadful environment when they entered the neighborhood where Janie's mother lived. How had the sweet-natured, gentle Janie ever been nurtured under conditions like these?

The man from the social agency followed in his car, but when the cruiser crawled to a stop in front of an eight-story building, the streets emptied of people although Violet sensed that watchful eyes peered from every window and dark corner. The two local policemen stayed with the cruiser, and Violet appreciated
Roger's vigilance as the social agent came to their side and said, “Mrs. Skeen lives on the third floor. We'll have to walk. There's no elevator.”

“Is this where you lived when you ran away?” Violet asked.

“No, we were living in Springfield at the time. I don't know when she came here.”

“Were your surroundings always as bad as this?”

Janie smiled slightly. “Sometimes worse, although we did have a nice apartment occasionally. But we were always on the move.”

A woman in a dirty, ragged terry cloth robe opened the door to their knock. In a faded, worn manner, the woman resembled Janie, so Violet knew this was Pat Skeen.

“Decided to bring my daughter back to me, have you? You had no right to take her in the first place.”

“We've been through this before,” the agent said. “You abandoned your daughter, and when we found her wandering on the streets of this city more dead than alive, we had not only the right, but an obligation, to rescue her from the dangers she faced.”

Pat said nothing. She looked down, then glanced up at Janie. For an instant Violet thought she saw a flash of tenderness in the woman's cold stare. “Your daughter is being taken back to Maitland and her foster home there, but she wanted to see you before she left.”

Pat stepped aside, and they entered a sparsely furnished one-room apartment with a small kitchenette and bath.

“We can't stay long, Janie,” Roger said. “We have a long drive ahead of us, so tell your mother what you want to, so we can be on our way.”

“Who are these people, Janie?” Pat asked.

Janie took Violet's hand. “This is my teacher, Miss Conley, who has been very good to me. Lieutenant Gibson is a state policeman in our town. He was sent to return me to Maitland.”

She didn't release Violet's hand, and Violet returned the girl's tight grip. “Mother, please don't try to take me away again. My foster mother is very good to me, and now that I've seen how normal people live, I can't come back to a place like this.”

“Can't say that I blame you, but it's the best I have to offer. I wouldn't have come after you this time, but I thought you might have been taken against your will.”

“No. I was so miserable when the social workers found me, that I was happy to find someone to take me in.”

“What's this about your father wanting you?”

“I told you yesterday. He learned from your sister that I was his daughter and he wants me to live with him.”

“What kind of wife does he have?”

“I haven't seen her—Miss Conley has.”

“She impressed me as a kind, good-hearted woman, and she does want to take Janie,” Violet said. “She isn't doing this for Clifford. She
wants
to give Janie a good home.”

“And it's your opinion that they'll be good for Janie?”

Violet nodded. “She desperately needs the security of a decent home.”

Pat looked at the social worker. “If you have those papers here, I'll sign them.”

“Mrs. Skeen,” Violet said. “Forgive me for giving
unsolicited advice, but why don't you come with us? Clifford told me that your family is concerned about you. I'm sure they will give you help to recover from your problems. I think Clifford would do it himself, for Janie's sake. Why don't you make an effort to change your life?”

Pat smiled wryly as she took the paper the social worker gave her and leaned over to sign it. “It's too late. That's the only reason I'm agreeing to let Janie go. You might not believe it, but I love my daughter. Forget this life, Janie, and go with your father. Clifford was always a decent sort—that's the reason we didn't get along.”

Janie started to embrace her mother, but Pat backed away and shook her head. Janie turned to Violet, who put her arm around the girl's shoulder and comforted her as she began to cry.

It was a somber group that walked down the hallway to the stairs. Violet turned for one last look, and knew she would never forget the forlorn figure of Pat Skeen, leaning against the door jamb watching their departure with a hand to her throbbing throat.

Chapter Twelve

P
eter Pierce scheduled Linda's story for the second Saturday night in May. Since it was the night before Mother's Day, Violet considered it an appropriate time for the telecast. Feeling that it might be a traumatic time for her, she invited Pastor Tom to come to her home and watch the program with her and Roger.

But the situation was handled with diplomacy and tact. Ryan Conley was portrayed as a man with a troubled mind, rather than a sadistic husband. Linda was depicted as a woman driven to murder when her husband had threatened their child. It was difficult to hear the tragic story of her parents' marriage, but as they watched Roger sat with his strong arm around her shoulders, and with his other hand, he caressed her tense fingers.

When the program ended, Violet clicked the remote control. The three of them sat in silence for several minutes.

“Violet, you should be commended for allowing the revelation of this tragedy that took your parents away
from you,” Pastor Tom said. “It couldn't have been an easy decision to allow your parents' problems to be broadcast to the world, but it certainly vindicated Linda's action, while at the same time leniently portraying your father as a man with psychological problems rather than as a mean-spirited person.”

“Yes, he must have been mentally unbalanced,” Roger said. “No sane man would behave in such a manner.”

“Of course, Mr. O'Brien is prejudiced against my grandfather, but he said that my parents were happy the first years of their marriage, and that the trouble started when they moved back to Kansas City and my grandfather tightened his hold on my father.”

“Quite likely,” Pastor Tom agreed. He smiled. “I hope you can put the past behind you now.”

“I intend to. We're getting married soon, and I want to concentrate on that now.”

“You are two people who should need little marriage counseling, but I'll want a session with you as with all others I marry, so be sure to schedule a few hours for that.”

After the pastor left, Roger said, “I've talked with Jason and Misty, and both of them are agreeable to selling our home to move into a different house. My house is paid for, and you have some equity built up in yours, so we should have a good sum to buy another house when we pool our resources.”

Violet nodded. “Can we afford one of the new houses in that subdivision north of town? They seem spacious, but we'll need a large house because we're starting out with a family of four.”

“Let's look at them tomorrow afternoon. I noticed in the newspaper that an open house is scheduled, and
a few of the houses are ready for immediate occupancy.”

“Good idea. We should take Jason and Misty along. We don't want them to feel left out.”

The next day, the four of them ate at a buffet restaurant at noon, and were on hand when the houses at Colonial Acres opened to the public at two o'clock. The colonial-style houses were being built on one-acre lots, and three were completed and ready for viewing. It was the last house they checked out that pleased all of them.

The dwelling was a modified two-story Dutch colonial with cream-colored siding and brown shingled roof. The first floor had a large family room, kitchen, dining area and a living room that ran the width of the house. A utility room and lavatory occupied an area near the garage entry. Three bedrooms and two baths were on the second floor, and a studio loft and a smaller room, designated as a sewing area, were located over the garage.

Jason immediately preempted the studio for his bedroom.

“But there's no bathroom up here, Jason,” Misty said.

“No trouble for Dad and me to install a small bathroom when I return from Europe. The few days I'm here before then, I can use that small one downstairs. Okay, Dad?”

Roger looked at Violet, and she nodded. “That should work out great, leaving one bedroom for guests when your family comes to visit, Roger, or when Aunt Ruth is here.”

“Or, for a nursery when the time comes,” Roger
added with a smile. Violet had thought the same, but didn't want to say it aloud.

The master bedroom with its large bath and walk-in closet was spacious enough for Roger and Violet, and Misty liked the larger of the other two rooms. After their inspection of the house, the four of them sat on the carpeted floor of the living room to discuss their options.

“I suppose we should consider the most important question, Dad,” Jason said. “Can we afford a house like this?” His statement pleased Violet—mature thinking for a nineteen-year-old. Roger had done his work well.

“Not if I had to pay for it alone,” he said, “but with Violet working, we should be able to swing it. It depends somewhat on how much we can get for our two houses. If the cost is so great that I can't afford to send you to college, then we'll stay where we are.”

“I fully intend to work and pay for most of my own college expenses,” Jason said, “that way you'll only have Misty to support. After I take this trip through Europe, I want to work for a year if you approve. It may take several years to graduate, but if I finance my own education, I'll appreciate it more.”

“Of course, you have the trust fund we set up with your mother's insurance that will be an income for both of you when you're each twenty-one. That will help quite a lot.” Roger turned to Violet. “What's your opinion?”

“I like the house, and we shouldn't have to buy any furniture when we combine what we have in both houses. My vote is to purchase.”

“I'm agreeable, too,” Roger said. “Misty, we've heard from everyone except you.”

“Can we be moved in before the wedding?” she asked.

“That depends on the contractor and how fast our houses sell. Six weeks should give us time.”

“I would like to move my bedroom before the wedding, and since Jason is leaving the next day for Europe, he should move his things, too.” She dropped her head. “You see, Dad, I want to go back with Grandma to spend the summer in Arizona, if you will let me. Now don't get me wrong, for I want you to marry Miss Conley, but I would rather be gone the first few weeks when you're…getting used to one another.”

Her face flushed, and Roger and Violet exchanged an understanding smile.

“I've already asked Grandma, and she said it would be fine if you'll permit it. She agrees that it would be better for the two of you to be alone this summer.”

“That's thoughtful of you, Misty,” Violet said, “although I hadn't thought of such a thing. I don't want either of you to ever feel that I don't want you in the house.”

“We don't feel that way,” Jason assured her. “As soon as the two of you say, ‘I do,' I'm going to start calling you Mother,” Jason said. “I'll think of you like that while I'm gone, and it will be natural for me when we're together as a family again. Our first mother was ‘Mama' to us.”

Roger clasped his arm around Jason in an affectionate gesture. “By all means, Misty, go with your grandmother for the summer. It's considerate of you to give Violet and me some space. It was her idea to bring the two of you along to view this house and help make a decision, so she wants you around, and I wouldn't
marry anyone who wasn't willing to share my kids—you know that. I love Violet very much, but that doesn't lessen my love for you, nor will it change our feelings for you if we have more children, as we expect to.”

Before they left the house, the four of them huddled together in a mutual embrace as Roger prayed. “Lord, we remember the words from the Bible, ‘Every…house divided against itself shall not stand, and Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain.' I can't find the words to tell you how grateful I am that you've given me two such understanding children and Violet, who not only is possessed of a heart big enough for me, but is willing to accept Misty and Jason as well. The day when their mother died, the three of us thought we could never find happiness again, but in your wisdom, you've brought Violet into our lives. Thank you, God. We praise you with our lips and our lives. Amen.”

All four of them cried, hugged and kissed in a moment that would prove as sacred as the marriage ceremony. Their wedding day would serve to confirm the pledges they made here today, for it was fitting that in this building that would become their home, they had become a family.

 

The next month passed in a flurry of activities that kept Violet and Roger so busy that they had little time to be alone. The Realtor from whom they bought the new house worked out a package deal—if he couldn't sell their two houses by the time they wanted to move, he would take them as a payment on their new home. While Violet was busy the first two weeks of June with school-closing activities, Roger and his children
moved into the new house and started living there. Violet wouldn't move her furniture until after they were married. When Aunt Ruth arrived for the wedding, she would stay with Violet in her old home.

After many hours of soul-searching, Violet asked Larry for an appointment during her prep period. The two of them sat in painful silence for several minutes.

Taking a deep breath, Violet said, “I've decided to apply for a transfer to Maitland Middle School when the school year starts in September.”

Larry nervously snapped the top of the ballpoint pen he held and kept his eyes on the desk pad before him.

“You're a good teacher, Violet—I'll hate to lose you.”

“Then if my work has been satisfactory, I hope that you will give me a good recommendation and not hinder the transfer.”

He looked at her in amazement. “What makes you think I would do anything as petty as that? Have I ever treated you unfairly?”

Perhaps the Hollands were above revenge and not vindictive as she and Roger had feared.
“Not professionally, no, and I apologize for that inference. I have always liked teaching here, but the situation has been a bit strained during this semester, and for the good of both of us, I believe I should leave. Also, it might be intimidating for Misty to have a stepmother on the staff.”

“You can be assured that I will do anything in my power to grant your wishes,” Larry said genially.

Violet stood to conclude the interview. “Larry, I don't know if I should say this, but I remember fondly the times we had together. We were good friends, but
I'm sure that both of us are better off that the relationship didn't go any further.”

“You may be right, although right now, I can't see that. I'm fond of you, Violet, but apparently it wasn't meant to be. I hope that you will be happy.”

Violet wiped unshed tears from her eyes as she left the room.

 

Violet and Misty, who was going to be maid of honor, went to Saint Louis one Saturday to shop for wedding clothes. Since she couldn't have her mother with her for the wedding, Violet decided to use some of the money she had inherited from Linda to buy her dress, for she wanted to feel that her mother had a part in the wedding. They went to an exclusive shop, and she chose a venise lace empire cage dress with allover embroidered illusion sleeves and chapel train topping a satin gown. The matching shoulder-length veil was attached to a small crown of pearls. Violet knew she didn't have any jewelry worthy of such a gown, but after the expense of the dress, veil, and white satin shoes, she wasn't going to buy jewelry. Actually, the dress didn't need any ornamentation, and her pearl earrings would suffice.

For Misty they chose a pink sleeveless rosette-back organza A-line with a matching organza wrap, which set off her blond features.

 

The open church informal wedding was to be held at six o'clock with a reception following in the church's fellowship room for all the guests. At her insistence, Aunt Ruth would assume the cost of the reception, and they planned for two hundred guests.

Roger was spending all of his free time in moving,
but after Violet's school year ended, he dropped in occasionally on his noon hour, and they lunched together.

One day, he said, “I've neglected to talk with you about a honeymoon. Is there any place in particular you would like to go?”

“I didn't suppose we could afford to go away, so I hadn't given it any thought.”

“I'd like for us to be alone for a while.”

“Of course we'll be alone all summer after the children leave.” Violet thought for a few minutes. “Why don't we go out to your farm for a couple of days? We could have all the privacy we want there.”

“Say,” Roger said, and his eyes lighted into a smile, “I would like that.”

 

Aunt Ruth arrived the day before the wedding. Not concerned about it being “bad luck” to see the groom on the day of the wedding, Violet invited Roger to have breakfast with her and Ruth.

They had just finished their scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and juice when the doorbell rang. Still holding a teacup in her hand, Violet went to the front door and opened it to—Josiah B. Conley. His limousine was parked in front of the house.

They stared at one another for a few seconds before Violet unlatched the screen door and motioned her grandfather to enter. He carried a large case.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she said. She indicated the dining area. “We had just finished.”

“No, thank you. I've eaten.”

Motioning for Ruth and Roger to join them, she asked her grandfather to be seated.

“You've met Roger,” she said, “But this is my
aunt, Ruth Reed—she's the one who gave me a home and reared me.”

Josiah gave Ruth an appraising glance. “Then I must commend her for doing the task well.”

Ruth acknowledged the compliment with a nod. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable in his company.

Violet took Roger's hand so that he would sit beside her on the couch. She was amazed at how much calmer she felt in her grandfather's presence than she had when he had been here before. He couldn't intimidate her anymore. This time tomorrow she would be Mrs. Roger Gibson, and she considered that a highly potent buffer against intimidation.

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