The Letter - Chapter 27

My brother-in-law pressed the doorbell as he, Jeff and I stood on their front porch.

“Hurry up, Marnie!  We’re freezing out here.”  Bill started fumbling with his keys when Marnie opened the door.

“Come in you three.  It’s gotten colder.  How did the game go?”

“We won 78 to 65,” Jeff said pulling off his gloves and taking off his down jacket.

“Jeff had 15 points,” I said.

“Seventeen,” Jeff and his dad said simultaneously.  We hung up our coats and took off our shoes.

“Hot chocolate, anyone?” Marnie asked.  We all quickly agreed to her suggestion.  “Jeff, go upstairs and get your aunt’s slippers for her,” Marnie said.

Jeff ran upstairs and Bill followed Marnie and me into the kitchen.  Marnie filled the electric kettle with water and hit the on switch.

“So, Ellie.  I can’t say I expected you to be home this early.  What happened to coffee with George Leskovic?” Marnie asked as she pulled down a canister with pouches of hot chocolate mix.

“I’m going to check to see if the Penguin game is still on,” Bill said rubbing his hands together to warm up.  “Give me a holler when the hot chocolate is ready.”  He left the kitchen and headed toward the family room.

“Well, Marnie.  That’s a good question,” I answered.  As far as I know, he was a no-show.”

“Really? Do you think he got your letter?”

“I sent it over a week and a half ago.  He should have gotten it last Friday or Saturday.  That should have been plenty of time for him to let me know one way or the other.  I feel like a dog barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh, Ellie.  I feel bad for you.” 

Jeff came into the kitchen with my slippers.  “The hockey game is still on.  I’m going in to watch it with Dad.  Pens are up 3 to 2.”

“The hot chocolate will be ready in a few minutes.  I’ll call you when it’s ready.”  Marnie poured the hot water into the four cups into which she already had poured the chocolate powder.  She stirred the mix.  “Ellie, I have some of those small marshmallows in the cabinet next to the sink.  Could you get them out please?”  She paused as she stirred.  “You know, Ellie.  This puzzles me.  Jeff says he met George’s daughter at the game last week.  She goes to another area high school.  She was there specifically to find out who had written that letter to her father.  You know the one you forgot to sign.”

“Really?  Maybe once he found out who I was, he decided he didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Anything’s possible, I guess.  It just doesn’t sound right to me.”  Marnie walked over to the kitchen doorway. “Jeff!  The hot chocolate’s ready.  Come and get it!”

Jeff ran into the kitchen and grabbed two of the mugs.  “Game’s almost over.  Still 3-2.”  He walked back towards the family room.

“Score!” we heard Bill yell, signaling another Pittsburgh Penguin goal. 

“Call us when it’s over,” Marnie called. “We want to watch the local news.”

We sipped our hot chocolate in silence, neither of us knowing what to say.  Finally, I turned to Marnie and forced a smile.

“I’m still glad I came.  I mean, who is George Leskovic anyway, that I should let him put a damper on my visit with you?”

Jeff let out a whoop from the family room.  “Game’s over Mom!”  He came back into the kitchen.  “Pens won 4-2. The TV is all yours.”

“Thanks, Jeff.  Are you going to bed?”

“Mom, tomorrow’s Saturday.  I can sleep in.  Right now, between my game and watching the Penguins game, I’m too jazzed up to go to sleep.  I’m going up to my room to play some video games.”

“Okay.  Don’t stay up too late.”  I followed Marnie into the family room where Jeff had switched to one of the local news programs.

“You ladies won’t mind if I watch the news with you?”

“Of course not,” I said.  “We’re happy for the extra company.”

We watched as the anchorwoman introduced the next news story.

“Earlier this evening, a vigil against gun violence itself turned violent as counter protesters attempted to get their message heard.  Reporting from the scene is Andy Stottlemeyer.”

“Thank you, Gloria.  Around 7:00 this evening, approximately 500 area citizens gathered outside the City County Building with candles and signs urging government officials to take steps to keep the community safe from gun violence.  I interviewed one of the vigil participants.

Sir, what brings you downtown on a cold, February evening?

We’re here to demonstrate that there is strong support in the community for reasonable regulations that could prevent the kind of violence we saw last week . . .”

“My God, it’s George Leskovic!  On television!”  Marnie picked up the remote and increased the volume.

I stared at the screen.  “Shh! I want to hear what he says.”

The reporter continued.  “Around 7:30, a small group of counter protesters arrived and within a few minutes, a scuffle began.

“Look.  That thug grabbed George and knocked him down!” I shouted

.

“Several arrests were made.  Fortunately, no shots were fired and no one was hospitalized.  Back to you, Gloria.”

“Thank you, Andy.  Another unfortunate reminder about the divisions in our country.  Next up, Paul Mathews has the Penguin score and all the sports news.” 

The news program cut to commercials.

“Can you believe it?” said Marnie.  At least we now know where George Leskovic was this evening.”

“That George is some guy,” Bill grinned.  Did you see him land a haymaker on the lout that knocked him down?”

“I hope he didn’t get arrested,” I said.  “Well, I may never know if he skipped my invitation on purpose, but if he did, at least it was for a good cause.”

“So you agree with him and the gun control crowd, Ellie?” Bill asked.

“Don’t bait my sister, Bill,” said Marnie tossing a pillow at her husband.  “You’ve told me many times you think this country needs to get serious about stopping the kind of bloodshed that happened last week in Buffalo.”

“Sorry, Marnie,” Bill grinned sheepishly.  “I was just trying to pull Ellie’s chain after seeing her would-be boyfriend on television.”

Marnie turned to me.  “Let’s leave my jerky husband alone to watch the sports report.  You and I can retire to the living room for a glass of sherry. We can make plans for doing a little shopping and sight-seeing tomorrow.”

“Hey, I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Bill said as the sports report came on.  “Marnie’s right.  I agree with what George is doing.”

“That’s all right, Bill.  I know what a kidder you are.”  I followed Marnie out of the family room trying to decide if seeing George at the vigil made me happier or sadder.

The Letter - Chapter 26

“Hey Liz.”  I put my tray of food on the table and sat down across from my friend in the crowded school cafeteria. 

“Hi Jen!  Happy Groundhog’s Day!”

“Oh yeah.  I almost forgot.  Did he see his shadow?”  I opened a packet of mustard and spread it over my hot dog and made a pool of ketchup for dipping my fries.

“Yep.  Six more weeks of winter.”  Liz sat with a water bottle and brown bag in front of her.

“So what did Frau Henderson prepare für deine Mittagessen?”

“Sounds like you’re really working on that German, Jennifer.  I’ve got a peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat, a small salad and an apple.”

“I just came from German class, so it’s sort of stuck in my head.  Anyway, what you’re having sounds healthier than what they’re serving here.  I should start packing my lunch.  Dad would do it, but I hate to burden him.  And I’m too lazy to do it myself.”

“My mother is convinced that I will O.D. on junk food if she lets me buy a school lunch,” Liz said, eyeing my fries.  “Anyway, is everything all right with you?  You seem a bit down in the dumps.  I figured you’d be on cloud nine after we cracked the case of the mystery letter writer.”  Liz took a bite of her apple and smiled.

I swallowed the fries that I was chewing and took a sip of apple juice.  “Well, I was thrilled that we were able to learn so much at the TJ game.  And I told you that Jeff texted me his aunt’s address and phone number later that evening.”

“Right.  You sure looked happy after the game to discover that her nephew was such a hunk,” Liz giggled.

“Please, Liz.  I’ll probably never hear from him again.  I gave the information to my dad, but I don’t know if he’ll try to contact her.”

“Really?  I mean, if nothing else, it might be nice to have a pen pal in Seattle.”  Liz thought for a second.  “Maybe she’ll write your dad again. Maybe Jeff will tell her about you trying to solve the mystery of her letter for your father.”

“It’s funny you would say that, Liz.  Last Saturday my mom showed up on our doorstep asking to see dad.  While I was getting him to come to the door, the mailman came and handed her our mail, which she eventually handed to my dad.  I stood behind him listening to their conversation.  At one point, I thought I noticed something lavender in her purse.”

“Seriously?  Do you think she intercepted a letter from the mystery lady?” Liz asked breathlessly.  She glanced at my tray.  “By the way, are you going to finish those fries?”  Liz picked up two, dipped them in ketchup and ate them hungrily.  “Don’t tell my mom.”

“Go ahead.  I’m not very hungry.”

“Are you sick?”

“Sick at heart,” I said, taking another sip of apple juice.  “I don’t know.  I can’t really believe she stole my dad’s mail.  The reason she was there was because she has decided to try to get custody of me.  She delivered legal papers to my dad.  If she succeeds, I’ll have to move to her place – way out in Sewickley, which will mean going to some other school.  I mean, I love my mom – sort of.  It’s so complicated.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “After being out of my life for so many years, now she wants me?  And it would mean not graduating from Bethel or being with my friends, especially you Lizzie Henderson!”  Tears welled up in my eyes.

Liz looked aghast.  “Wouldn’t you stay with your Dad at least part of the time?

“Not if my mom has her way.  I’d be imprisoned in her Sewickley Heights mansion – sentenced to stay there at least until my eighteenth birthday.”

“I can think of worse fates, but I’d miss you horribly.  Will you be gone before the sweetheart dance?”

“Uh, I don’t think so, but I’m probably not going.  Nobody’s asked me, and I’m too depressed to go by myself.”  The bell sounded, signaling that it was time to go to our next class.  I picked up my tray to carry it to the clean-up station.  Liz followed close behind me.

“You should ask Jeff,” Liz whispered.

“What?”  I turned around.  “Liz, now you’re talking crazy talk.”

“I’m serious, Jennifer. I saw the way he was looking at you.  He’d go in a heartbeat.”

“I’ve got to get to English class,” I said as I hustled ahead of Liz.

“In a heartbeat, Jennifer!” Liz called after me.

“Forget it, Elizabeth!” I called back as I hurried to my locker to get my books for the afternoon.

The Letter - Chapter 25

“Hey big brudda,” my brother Bob slapped me on the back and sat down in the chair next to me.  People were filtering into the church hall.  Most were still milling around, chatting with like-minded friends.  This was my first meeting with this group that advocated against gun violence.  I had told Bob I was planning to attend but was surprised to see him there.

“What brings you here?” I asked.

“Hey, I’m a single guy.  You never know who you might meet at one of these meetings,” Bob gave me a sharp elbow to the ribs.  Bob had lost his wife to breast cancer eight years ago.  She was just 42.  “I’m not sure why you’re here though.  I figured you’d still be pining over that mystery letter writer.”

“She’s no longer a mystery, Bob.  Jennifer and her friend figured out who she is.  A nice piece of detective work I have to admit.”  I gave him a quick rundown on what Jennifer had discovered.

“That niece of mine is pretty awesome.  So have you done anything about it?”

“No.  I’ve had other things on my mind.”  I told Bob about the custody case Melissa had filed.

“God, that woman is just plain awful.  When I think of her, I lose all desire to enter into a new relationship.  So what are you going to do?”

“The meeting’s about to start.  I’ll buy you a beer afterwards.  We’ll talk then.”

The first speaker gave a personal account of the recent mass shooting.  He was a doctor and had been at a restaurant in the near vicinity of where the killing occurred.  On seeing a news report on his phone, he ran to the scene to offer assistance.  He described a scene of mass confusion when he arrived.  The first responders allowed him access to the carnage because of his medical credentials.  What really stuck with me was his description of cell phones lighting up as family and friends tried unsuccessfully to contact their fallen loved ones.   He spoke passionately of the need to take steps to make our community safe from gun violence.

After the doctor, local organizers spoke to gather support for a candlelight vigil at City Hall on Friday evening.  There would also be a rally at the local offices of one of the U.S. Senators the following week.   I penciled in both events on my calendar.  At the end of the meeting, audience members were asked to sign a pledge to obey existing gun laws, to encourage others to do so and to press government officials to make gun violence prevention a priority.   I gladly signed.  Bob hesitated.

“I’m just not ready to take that step,” Bob said as we left the building.  “Some of the people involved with this group seem a little too radical for me.”

“Nobody’s proposing to take your hunting rifles, Bob.”

“Yeah, I hear you.  I mean, I can understand the concerns about military assault rifles like the shooter used in that massacre.  Let me think about it.  Is your offer of that beer still open?”

“Sure.  I’ll meet you at that brewpub on Route 88.  I just need to quick call Jennifer to let her know when I’ll be home.”

Twenty minutes later we were having craft beers and sharing a wild mushroom pizza at Mindful Brewing. 

“Sole custody, huh?  That woman is brutal!  So what are you going to do?” Bob asked taking a bite of pizza.

“I haven’t met with my lawyer yet.  I have an appointment early next week.  I think we’ll argue that it would be harmful to make such a radical change this far into her senior year of high school.”

“Sounds right to me, but what do I know?  I’m just a dumb engineer who thinks good ought to prevail over evil.  So what about this letter lady?”

“I don’t know.  It seems kind of presumptuous to contact her.  She sent me an unsigned letter with no return address.  That doesn’t seem like she wants me to contact her.  I think I’ll just wait for a while and see if she tries again – maybe with some kind of explanation about what she was trying to do with that first letter.”

“Do you remember her at all?” 

“Yeah, I do.  Cute girl.  Kind of shy.  But back then, so was I.  Honestly, it would be kind of fun to see her and chat.  I suppose that if I don’t hear from her anytime soon, I might just drop her a line.  But Seattle?  That would sure be a long distance relationship if anything would come out of it.”

“Hey, you’re retired.  And the writing you’re doing?  You could do that anywhere.  Seattle might be a welcome change of scenery.  Might inspire you to write that best seller.”

And what about Jennifer?”

“I’ll bet there’s a college or two in Washington.”

“Okay.  If I don’t hear from her in the next two weeks, I’ll contact her.”  I drained the last of the oatmeal stout I had ordered and stood up.  “I’ve got to get home, Bob.  Thanks.  I’ve had a nice evening.  Glad you came out to join me even if you weren’t convinced.”

“Hey, I’m thinking about it.  I don’t plan to go to the vigil this weekend or the rally next week, but I am going to give this a lot of thought.  I know this is important to you.”  Bob’s face cracked into a broad grin.  “Hey, brother.  What say I take a vacation day tomorrow and we drive up to Punxatawney to see if the groundhog sees his shadow?”

I grinned back at my brother.  “Thanks, but no thanks, Bob.  Did that in college.  I’ll watch the six o’clock news to see what happens on Gobbler’s Knob.  It’s a pretty safe bet that he’ll predict another six weeks of winter.  Anyway, drive safely.  See you soon.”  We shook hands and walked to our cars.  Bob had given me a lot to think about.  

The Letter - Chapter 24

I looked at the forbidding, dark clouds as I walked up the steps to Beverly’s front porch.  Her front door was painted a friendly lime green.  I clenched my hand to knock and then remembered my own recent admonition and pushed her doorbell.  I heard chimes ring inside her house.  Then, Beverly’s voice from deep within the bowels of the structure.

“Just a minute!”

I stood waiting and looked again at the clouds.  Rain again?  I heard we might actually get some snow.  The door opened with a whoosh.

“Ellie!  What a surprise!  I thought you were in Pittsburgh.”

“I leave tomorrow.  Groundhog’s Day.  Remember?”

“Oh yeah.  That’s right.  Won’t you come in?”

“I was out walking for some exercise and fresh air.  I was hoping you might join me.”

“Sure, sure, Ellie.  But it looks like rain.”

“I think it will hold off until the afternoon.  But you might want to bring an umbrella, just in case.”  I pulled my mini-umbrella from my purse to show her.

“Good thought.  Come in for a second.  I need to get better shoes and my coat and umbrella.  It will just take a minute, but there’s no sense in your waiting outside.”

I stepped into her entranceway.  “Mmmm.  That coffee smells great!”

“Perfect day for it, said Beverly pulling on her coat.  I bought a coffee cake.  Please say you’ll have some after we walk a bit to work up our appetites.”

“I’d love some.  Let’s go.”  As Beverly and I walked down the sidewalk, a thin ray of sunshine broke

through the dark clouds.

“An omen,” said Beverly pointing to the break in the clouds.  But a few minutes later, the break in the clouds closed back up restoring the gloom as we continued onward.  After about ten minutes, I felt a fat drop of rain strike my hat.

“I think we are about to be caught in a deluge,” Beverly opened her umbrella.  “Time to head back for that coffee cake.”

“Yes, I agree,” I said. “Let’s turn around post-haste.”

We were about fifty yards from Beverly’s front door when the few scattered droplets multiplied into a downpour.  We hustled inside and hung our wet coats and hats on her coat tree.  I followed Beverly into her kitchen.  The smell of coffee was inviting. Beverly poured two mugs and set them on the table.

“Cream, no sugar, right?”

“That’s right, thank you,” I said as she set a small pitcher of half and half on the table in front of me.  Beverly placed two small plates and the coffee cake on the table.  She got two forks from the silverware drawer and placed a generous piece of the pastry on each of our plates.

“Dig in!” she said with a smile.

 

“Thank you.  It’s delicious, I said pushing a forkful into my mouth.”

“So when are you leaving?”

“Around ten o’clock tomorrow morning.  I’ll get into Pittsburgh around seven in the evening.  There’s a brief stopover in Chicago.”

“And your nephew’s game is on Friday?  By the way, your hair looks lovely.  Did you go to my place?  Looks like you decided to get rid of the gray.”

“I wasn’t going to color it, but Jillian talked me into it.”

“She’s great.  She knows what looks good.  That color and style remind me of Elizabeth Warren.”

“I know.  Does it suit me?”  I struck a pose with my hand behind my head.

“Perfectly.  Have you heard from George?  With that new look, I hope he’s a Democrat.  Anyway, he should have gotten your letter by now.”

“Not a peep.  We’ll see if he shows up at the game.”

“Nevertheless, she persisted, right?”  Beverly laughed at her own reference to a phrase that had become synonymous with Elizabeth Warren.

“We’ll see.  I’m not sure how far to persist in the case of George.  Anyway, I like Senator Warren.  I hope she decides to run for president.”

“You could be her body double,” smiled Beverly putting the last forkful of cake into her mouth.

I finished mine and drank the last sip of my coffee.

“More coffee, Ellie?”

“No thank you.  I’ve got to be getting back.  I haven’t started to pack yet.”  I stood up.

“Dear Ellie.”  Beverly came toward me and gave me a fierce hug.  “Safe travels, my friend.”  She took a step back.  “This George better treat you well, or he’s going to answer to me.”

I wiped away a tear.  “I am so blessed to have you as a friend.  Take care of yourself, Beverly.  I’ll be back in a week and will tell you all about it.”  I walked to the front door and got my hat and coat with Beverly right behind me. 

“Oh my goodness,” a thought occurred to me.  “I forgot to stop the mail and paper.  Do you think there’s still time to do that today?”

“Don’t you worry about it,” Beverly said.  “I would be happy to pick it up for you.  That way, you’ll be forced to see me as soon as you get back.”

“That would be great.  Thank you.”  I gave my friend a quick hug and started back to my house.  The rain had slowed to a mist.  Now what should I pack to wear at a high school basketball game?

The Letter - Chapter 23

Dad picked up the legal papers that Mom had handed him and slowly walked back to his study.  He put the pile of the mail on the side of the desk and sat down in his desk chair.  He opened the envelope, put on his reading glasses and started to read.  I quietly sat down in the chair in the corner of the study and watched him.  His face looked like the winter sky in Pittsburgh – leaden gray and desolate.

“Dad?  What does it say?” I ventured.

He sighed and laid the papers on the desk.  “She’s seeking sole custody until your eighteenth birthday.  I suppose she’s trying to make up for lost time.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if she’s successful, you will live with your mother in her Sewickley Heights mansion at least until you turn eighteen.  The law considers you an adult at 18.  After that, it will be up to you where you decide to live.”

“One of my friends at school has parents that divorced.  She lives with her mom during the week and with her father on weekends.  Wouldn’t I at least be here on weekends?  If mom wins, I mean.”

“No.  If she wins, I’d get to visit with you, but you’d be living full time with her.”

“What about school?  And Liz.  When would I see Liz?”

“You’d transfer to a school near your mother’s home.  She seems hot for Nickerson Academy.”

“What? That’s crazy.  I’m in my last semester at Bethel.  Don’t I get a say in this?”

“The legal standard for custody actions is what’s in the best interest of the child.  Based on your age, the judge will listen to you, but that is only one of the things that a judge would consider in rendering a decision.  Of course, these things are often settled before any hearing in court.”

“So what do you plan to do about this, Dad?”

“I suppose I’ll have to engage a lawyer.”

“But you’re a lawyer.  Can’t you do this yourself?”

“Jennifer, there’s an old saying: ‘A lawyer that represents himself has a fool for a client.’  Besides that old adage, I just don’t know enough about this area of the law.  I was a corporate environmental lawyer.  Divorce and custody are a whole different universe.”

Dad flipped to the last page of the document.  “Just as I thought.  This was prepared by one of the minions in Richard’s firm.  Richard will make sure to throw a lot of firepower into this – probably Sidney Lutz.  He’s their marquee lawyer for domestic relations.”

“Who will you get?” I stood up and started for the door as I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes.

“I don’t know.  I’ll probably go back to the firm I used to handle the divorce.  They’re small, but they do a lot of this type of work.”

I rubbed my eyes with the sleeve of my robe.  “Anyway, I have a bit of good news for you, Dad.”

“What is it honey?”  He smiled at me, but I could see he was also fighting back tears.

“The mystery letter writer.  Liz and I found out who it is.”

“Jennifer, seriously?  Tell me about it.”

I explained the detective work that Liz and I had done.  “And last night, Liz and I went to the basketball game at TJ and met her nephew who seems like a very nice boy and he texted me her name, address and phone number and I know you probably thought I had gone to the Bethel game and if you want to punish me I’ll understand and . . ..”  I started bawling and couldn’t stop.  Dad got up from his desk chair and enveloped me in a warm hug.

“Jen, it’s ok.  Thank you for being so concerned with my happiness.  You are such a blessing to me, and this house would feel so empty without you.”

I could feel his body shake as he hugged me.  We stood there for a minute just holding each other.  Then he stepped back and smiled.

“So who is this mystery lady, anyway Nancy Drew?”

I laughed and wiped my eyes again.  “Eleanor somebody.  I’ll go get my phone and show you Jeff’s text.”

“Jeff is it?  Maybe you’re the one that will find romance here. The only Eleanor I remember was Ellie Kosko.  She was a cute one for sure, but we really didn’t travel in the same circles.”

“Jeff does seem very nice, but I think ours is a purely professional relationship.  Anyway, what do you mean you didn’t travel in the same circles?”

“Well, I was in the college prep track, and she was business, which in those days meant typing, shorthand and that sort of thing.  Mostly, it was girls who planned to be secretaries and weren’t going to college.”

“I see.  Let me get my phone - I’ll be right back,” I turned and ran up to my bedroom and then ran back downstairs where my father was waiting.  “Jeff’s text says her name is Eleanor Barnhart.  She lives in Seattle.  Would that be the same woman?”

“Probably a married name.  I really can only remember one Ellie in my class, so I’m guessing it’s her.”

“So are you going to write or call her?”

“I don’t know.  She sent me an unsigned letter – maybe she doesn’t want me to contact her.  Perhaps I’ll wait to see if she sends me another purple letter.”

A subliminal memory of lavender flashed in my mind.  Where had I seen it?  “Well, it’s your life, Dad.  I wouldn’t wait too long if I were you.  Anyway, I’m going to get dressed and have some breakfast.”

“Better hurry,” he called as I walked back upstairs.  “It’s almost time for lunch.”

That flash of lavender was still bothering me.  Where had I seen it?  It seemed like a very recent memory.  Had I been dreaming about it just before I woke up?  I opened my closet to get my clothes, and it hit me.  My mother’s purse!  I had seen something lavender peeking out of my mother’s purse when she handed the mail to my father.  

The Letter - Part 2, Chapter 22

Part 2

Chapter 22

Another mass shooting!  I tossed the newspaper on the floor in disgust.  They’ve become almost commonplace.  And I can easily predict what will come next.  ‘Our thoughts and prayers are with the friends and family members of the victims of this horrible crime,’ the politicians will somberly intone.  And then, ‘It’s not the right time to be talking about gun controls so soon after this tragedy.’  It’s never the right time for those in the pocket of the Gun Lobby.  Time will pass, nothing will be done, and then there will be another tragedy.  I wrote an Op-Ed piece after the Newtown mass shooting.  I thought the fact that children had died would be enough to move Congress to some action.  But several more mass shootings had occurred since Newtown and still it was too soon to talk about reasonable controls on the proliferation of mass killing machines.  I stared at my computer screen and considered what I might write on my blog.

“Good morning, Father.”  Jennifer yawned as she walked into my study.  Her blonde hair was disheveled and she was still in her flannel pajamas, wrapped in her cozy chenille robe and wearing her Garfield slippers.

“Good morning, Jennifer.  I’m surprised that you’re up already.  It’s only the crack of eleven o’clock.”  I smiled at my daughter.

“Please, dad.  I’m a teenager.  I need lots of sleep, and it’s a Saturday so why not sleep in?”  She curled up in the overstuffed chair in the corner of the study.

“Whoever coined the phrase slept like a baby had it wrong.  Slept like a teen.  Now that’s a good night’s sleep.”

“What are you working on?”

“I was just looking at some of the news stories about this latest mass shooting.  I’m considering another Op-Ed piece – not that it will convince those that need convincing.”

“When these things happen, the second amendment crowd just heads to the nearest sporting goods store and buys more guns and ammo.  But you should write the piece anyhow.  The pen is mightier than the sword.”

“But no match for a gun.”

“What?”

“Sorry.  I was thinking of the lyrics of an old Beach Boys tune called Student Demonstration Time.”

“Maybe that’s your inspiration.  You often use music as a backdrop for your articles. Wait.  There’s the doorbell.”

“Would you see who it is?”

“Dad, I’m in my pajamas!”

“These days people go to the grocery store in their pajamas.  You’re fine.”

“All right.  We’re not expecting any package are we?”  Jennifer starting walking toward the front door.

I heard it open.  “Mom!?” 

“Hello, Jennifer.  Is your father home?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll go get him.”  I got up from my desk as Jennifer rushed into the room.

“It’s Mom,” she whispered.  “Were you expecting her?”

“Not really.  Maybe this is the surprise she had mentioned on the phone the other day.  Did you invite her in?”

“No.  I’m sorry.  It was such a shock to see her.  I just wasn’t thinking.”

I walked past Jennifer to the front door.  “Melissa.  Come in from the cold.  I’ve got to teach our daughter better manners.”

“Well, the mailman came while I was standing here.  Here’s your mail,” Melissa said handing me a pile of what looked mostly like junk mail and stepping inside.  “Anyway, maybe I’ll do a better job of teaching our daughter manners.”  She handed me a fat envelope. 

“What’s this?”

“A complaint in custody.  Surprise, George.  You’ve been served.”

Missy, you’ve got to be kidding.  Two years after walking out on us, you’ve decided to seek custody of Jennifer?  She’ll be eighteen in a few months.  Then she can decide for herself.”

“Jennifer is at a very important stage of her childhood.  Lots of decisions need to be made about college, careers, friends and so forth.  I think I am much better positioned than you are to help her make the right decisions.”

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on?”  Jennifer had come up behind me.

“You’re going to be coming to live with me, darling.  You’re going to love living in a mansion.”

“Over my dead body, Missy!”

“As the saying goes, George, tell it to the judge.”  Melissa turned on her heel and walked to her waiting limousine.  A chauffeur opened the door for her.  She waived a gloved hand as the limo pulled away from the curb.

Jennifer tugged at my sleeve.  “Is Mom serious about this?”

I looked at the papers Melissa had handed to me.  Richard’s law firm.  Of course.  I threw them onto the floor and stomped on them.

“I guess that answers my question,” Jennifer said.