you’ll have to share the room with Ginnie, but she doesn’t mind. You and Leigh Ann can bunk in her old bed.” Mother chattered on as she led us to the kitchen. “Oh, I’m so glad you came. I’ve missed Leigh Ann terribly, and we haven’t seen you or Danny since our short visit to your apartment in Queens when he was, what? Two weeks old?”
“That was five weeks ago, Mother,” I said.
“I know. But my baby has a baby, and I missed you both!”
“Oh, Mother!”
“You, too, Richard.”
“Glad to be included,” he said, and let out a short jabbing laugh.
“Now let’s see what we have.” Mother opened the refrigerator. “I’ve got some chicken cutlets, and some fresh tossed salad, and some cola to drink, unless you’d like some apple juice. Your father should be back soon, Leigh Ann. I sent him to the supermarket to pick up extra groceries. I’m going to make a roast beef dinner for everyone. How does that sound?”
She bustled around, putting the cold platter lunch, beverages, and paper plates and cups on the table, masking an anxiety which she knew I felt emanating from her. Underlying her hidden stress was a strong antipathy seemingly directed at Richard, though I wondered if the true target was the dark spirit who had harassed me the past few days.
“So how have you been treating my little girl?” she asked.
“Oh, she’s been okay.” Richard leaned back in his chair, turning slightly to face me, a touch of a smile on his lips. “I don’t see any marks on her from the beating. Must have all cleared up.”
“Oh, Richard!” Ginnie exclaimed, rolling those blue eyes I’d been so envious of as a child.
“He’s joking,” I said with my own small smile.
“I hope so,” my sister said. “You’d probably beat him back up, and probably win. She’s a real meanie, Richard. Don’t mess with her.”
“I won’t,” he said, and helped himself to lunch.
* * * *
My father came home an hour later, and the greetings and small talk were repeated. It wasn’t until later that night that Mother and I could talk privately. After dinner, Fred went out, and my father went upstairs for his customary nap for an hour or two. Richard had called his parents in the nearby Burholme section of northeast Philadelphia, to arrange our stopping by there on Sunday on our way back to New York. He didn’t know I had no intention of returning to Queens. He also called two high school buddies and asked me if I’d mind his going off to see them for awhile. I didn’t mind.
Daniel fell asleep in his makeshift crib; Ginnie had a Saturday night date with her current beau, but promised to get back before midnight for late night sisterly talk.
Mother and I were finally alone. She washed the dinner dishes and I dried them. And the first words from her mouth were: “How bad is it?”
I hesitated, my feelings so repressed I hardly knew where to begin.
“Well?”
“It’s bad, Mom. He hasn’t found work, the rent’s due, and we barely have food. He doesn’t know I packed the last cans of baby formula we had.”
“You’re coming home?”
“I’d like to.”
“What about Richard?”
I sighed. “He can go back to Queens, settle our accounts and bring the remainder of our clothing and stuff back here. Thank God, it’s a furnished apartment, and we don’t have to haul large stuff.”
“And after he carts your belongings here? Do you want him to stay with you and Daniel?”
“He’s my husband, Mom. Unless you feel it would be too crowded. Then maybe he can stay with his parents until he gets a job, and we find a new home for us here. I want to be home, Mom, here in Philadelphia. Just in case of emergency.”
She handed me the last dish. Her blue eyes were hard with worry. “You think you can save your marriage.”
“I . . . I don’t know. He’s just going through a bad slump.”
“He hasn’t really laid hands on you?”
“No. We’ve just had some problems communicating.”
“Seems rather big ones, I’ll bet.”
I said nothing.
“Well, you’re welcome to come home, and Richard’s welcome, too. You can tell him it’s all right. You can bunk in your old room until he’s back on his feet. Ginnie might prefer him to sleep in Fred’s room, under these circumstances; you’ll have to work that out with her and Fred.”
“Uh, Mom? Richard doesn’t know yet.”
She stared at me incredulously.
“I haven’t told him yet. I only made up my mind to do this last Thursday.”
“Last Thursday? And what happened then that made you plot this escape behind Richard’s back?”
“Problems just piled up, and I knew we weren’t going to solve them in Queens. Or alone. Thursday, I just . . . finally got the courage to make a decision on it all.”
“But not enough courage to discuss it with Richard.”
“I just . . . just didn’t want to create more conflict.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
Again, I hesitated, considering exactly how I was reacting to Richard. “Not physically. Emotionally, though . . . emotionally, he shuts me out. Almost as if he has a do not disturb sign on with smaller writing under it that says proceed at your own risk.”
She was silent for a moment, wiping dry the sink area. Then, “Have you tried to probe him psychically?”
“Yes. It’s very disturbing. There’s a lot of anger. And that very definite warning to keep out.”
She turned, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Leigh Ann. Are you sure there isn’t another source, besides the two of you, causing his reaction?”
“Well . . . yes. The baby. Richard made it plain he wasn’t ready for fatherhood. And now, even though he seems to love Danny, he seems to resent me.”
“Leigh Ann.” She spoke quietly, as if to an idiot child. “You have a tendency to overlook the obvious—a tendency I wish you’d lose.”
“What do you mean?”
I suddenly felt a protective aura build around me, beyond the one I normally bathe myself in each morning upon awakening. It felt strong and heavy, an auric safety net over a lighter safety net over the normal psychic aura that surrounds each living thing, whether seen and understood by humanity or not. “Mom . . ?”
“Leigh
