The Letter - Chapter 18

I heard the front door open and felt the cold of another January night rush into the house.

“Hi Dad!  It’s me, Jennifer.  Sorry I’m late.”

“Hi Jen,” I called back to the voice in the hallway.  “I’m in the kitchen.  Are you hungry or did you have dinner at Liz’s house again?”

Jennifer walked into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed from the cold.  She rubbed her hands together to warm them.  “Wow, it’s cold tonight!  No, I haven’t eaten.  I did stop at Liz’s, and her mom asked if I wanted to stay for dinner.  But I told her I had a dinner date with a charming older man tonight and had to get going so he wouldn’t think I was standing him up.”  She walked over and gave me a hug.

“Yeow!  Your hands are like ice!”  I exclaimed as she put them on the back of my neck. 

“You always did that to me when I was a little girl and you came in from shoveling snow.  Turnabout is fair play.”

“Who says?  I think you need to save that thrill for when you get married and have kids of your own.”

“I might never get married.  Girls just want to have fun, like that song from the eighties says.  Marriage doesn’t hold a lot of attraction for me based on your experience.”

“Well, I hope I’m a decent role model for you in a lot of areas, but I guess having a good marriage isn’t one of them.  My marriage did produce a beautiful, vivacious daughter, so it couldn’t have been all bad.  Anyway, why don’t you set the table?  Dinner is almost ready.”

“I don’t know what you made, but it smells delicious.”  Jennifer inhaled deeply.

“It’s my world famous meat loaf.  With roasted potatoes and green beans.”

“Fresh green beans?”  Jennifer pulled two plates out of the kitchen cabinet and placed them on the table.

“Oh, sure.  I picked them up at the Farmer’s Market this afternoon,” I teased as I removed the meat loaf and potatoes from the oven.

“Yeah, I guess fresh is a lot to ask in the middle of winter.”

“At least they’re frozen.  I know you don’t like canned green beans, though that’s all I got when I was your age.”  I served the food onto our plates as Jennifer got our silverware and poured each of us a glass of water.  We both sat down and began to eat.

“So do you ever think about Mom?” asked Jennifer.  I mean you must have had some good times early on, right?”

“Of course.  I like to think we were very much in love early in our marriage.  Certainly we were when we had you.”

“I suppose she must think of us as well.  I mean, after no contact for what seemed like forever, she shows up at my play.  How do you think she even knew about that?”  Jennifer looked at me expectantly with her blue eyes as she took a bite of meat loaf.

“Richard has his spies, I’m sure.  I’ll bet your mother has him checking on you and telling him how you’re doing all the time – even during all that time when we never heard a word from her.  Maybe something has changed in her life, so she’s decided to become more interested in you and what you’re doing.  You know, it’s funny.  First she shows up at your play.  And then, believe it or not, I get a phone call from her.”

“Really?  When did that happen?”  She brushed aside a few stray blonde hairs revealing a furrowed brow.

I swallowed a bite of food and took a sip of water.  “Yesterday afternoon when you were at school.  It was a bit weird.  She said how much she enjoyed seeing you in the play, and then jumped to how wonderful Sewickley Academy is, including its arts programs.  Richard’s boys went there.”

“Yes, a haven for stuck-up rich kids, I’m sure.  Their parents all think their precious children will become wealthy and successful in whatever field they choose, after a four year stopover at Harvard, Yale or some other Ivy League college.”

“Well, it does offer opportunities of a different sort than does dear old Bethel Park High School.”

“Yeah, our mascot is the common black hawk.  I can assure you whatever the mascot is at Sewickley, it certainly isn’t common.”

I chuckled.  “But anyway, your mother told me she has some sort of surprise for me.  God knows what that might be.”  I stabbed at the green beans on my plate.

“Don’t hold your breath waiting for it.  She was probably just talking.”  Jennifer sighed.

“Maybe.  But she actually wanted to know when I’d be around to receive it.  Well, again, I’m not waiting for it, whatever it might be, with bated breath.”

Jennifer swallowed a mouthful of food.  “What is bated breath anyhow?  I hear that expression, but I really don’t know what it means.” 

“You should look it up.”

“I knew that’s what you were going to say.  You’re a writer.  And you’re the one who used the expression.  So you should tell me what it means, or if you really don’t know, you should look it up and tell me.” Jennifer said, scraping up the last bites of meat loaf with her fork and putting them into her mouth. 

“I would say it means expectantly or with great anticipation.”

Jennifer pulled her phone out of her back pocket.  “If you please, since we’ve finished eating, I will break our no phone at the dinner table rule and see what the internet says about it.”  Jennifer started tapping her phone.  “By the way, dinner was great.  You should make meat loaf more often.”

 “Thank you for the compliment.  Didn’t I say my meat loaf is world famous?  Okay, I’ll allow your breach of our longstanding no phone rule just this once.”

“Let’s see, she said looking at her phone. Dictionary.com says, ‘with breath drawn in or held because of anticipation or suspense.’  It’s an idiom, so it should be avoided by good writers.  That’s my personal comment,” Jennifer said with a sly smile.  “So as punishment for that literary infraction, you, my dear father, must do the dishes.”

“Hey, I’m the one in this house that hands out punishments.  I cooked dinner, so you do the dishes.  I will agree to put away the leftovers,” I smiled at my daughter as I got up from the table.  “By the way, you’ve been spending a lot of time at Liz’s house.  What are you two up to?”

“Dad, we’re best friends.  Best friends enjoy each other’s company.  We are working on a project together.  I have high hopes for it, but can’t tell you any more than that.”

“A secret project, eh?  Do I need to be concerned?”

“No, you need to trust your daughter, and all will be revealed at the appropriate time.”

“That sounds a little ominous.  I suppose I’ll keep my head down and my powder dry.”

“Dad!  That sounds like another idiom.  You need a good editor to help you avoid these mistakes.”

“Why do you think I keep you around?”  I put the last of the leftovers in the refrigerator.  “I’m going to turn on CNN and see what’s happening in the world.  Feel free to join me after you’ve loaded the dishes into the dishwasher.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a load of homework.  I’ll stop in to watch a little when I need a break.”

I walked into our family room and turned on the television.