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.

The Letter - Chapter 21

Liz was driving her mom’s Prius.  It was dark, but at least the roads were dry with no snow in the forecast.

“The cloverleaf is coming up,” I said to Liz.

“Do I turn on it or after it?”

“After it.  I think.”

“You’re inspiring a lot of confidence in your navigation skills, Jen.”

“We could have used the GPS, you know.”

“I didn’t want to leave any clues for my mom to discover that we were anywhere but at our high school in Bethel Park.”

“I think we’re near Century Three Mall.  OK. Turn there,” I said pointing at the right turn just beyond the cloverleaf.

Liz drove for another couple of miles.  Finally, Thomas Jefferson High School appeared on our right.  Liz parked the car in the crowded lot and we followed the stream of people into the school.  We bought our tickets and went into the gym.  Both teams were out on the court warming up.

“Let’s sit close behind the Jaguars bench,” I suggested.  “I think the cheerleaders sit near the team.  What does your cousin look like?”

“Short brown hair.  Very petite.  I’ll point her out when the cheerleaders go onto the court.”

A buzzer went off and the two teams took their last practice throws before returning to their respective benches.  The visiting cheerleaders went onto the court.

“Who’s TJ playing tonight?” Liz asked.

“West Mifflin.  The Titans.”

“Are they any good?”

“How should I know?  Hey, there go the TJ cheerleaders!  Do you see your cousin?”

“There she is.  Hey, Sandi!” Liz stood up and waved to her cousin.

“Hey, sit down,” a male voice said behind us.  I turned to say something, but Liz hushed me and sat down.  Sandi came over to us.

“Hey, Liz!  What are you doing here?”

“Hi Sandi.  This is my friend Jennifer.  We wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Great!  Let’s meet in the lobby after the game.”  Sandi ran over to sit with her fellow cheerleaders.

We settled into our seats as the game began.  At halftime the Titans led 40-36.  The second half was all Jaguars.  The score was 56-54 when they took the lead. 

“Who’s that tall guy, Liz?”

They’re all tall, Jen.  This is basketball.”

“I mean the one that’s scoring all the points.  He hasn’t missed a shot this half.”

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.  “You mean number 44?  That’s Jeff Radakovic.  Yeah, he’s good.  Leads the team in scoring and rebounds so far this season.”

“Thank you,” I said to the man behind me.

“He also leads the team in cuteness,” Liz whispered in my ear.

“Elizabeth!  Isn’t Mikey enough for you?”

“We’re only going to the semi-formal – not getting married,” Liz laughed.

At the final buzzer, the Jaguars had beaten the Titans 70-62.  Jeff Radakovic had scored 16 points.  We picked up our coats and headed for the lobby.  We saw Sandi make her way through the crowd toward us.

“It’s so good to see you, Liz.  Great game, huh?”

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun.  That Jeff guy was something else.”

“He’s a senior.  I hear he’s also very nice, but I don’t know him very well.”

“Really?”

“Anyway,” I spoke up.  “ Hi, I’m Jennifer Leskovic.  Liz and I are hoping you can help us find some information about one of the players on the team.”

“Well, ok.  But most of the players I know are on the JV squad – freshmen and sophomores. What kind of information are you looking for?”

“It’s a bit of a long story, but one of the players has an aunt that lives in Seattle.  We’re trying to figure out who that is.”

“I’ve got an aunt that lives in Seattle.”

I spun around and found myself staring at a boy’s chest.  I looked up and saw it was Jeff Radakovic, the Jaguars star player.

“Uh, hi.”  I felt a bit star struck before regaining my composure.  “Great game!” I said.

“Thank you.  But did I hear you say you are looking for someone on the team that has an aunt that lives in Seattle?”

“That’s right.  The aunt wrote a letter to my father inviting him to come to a game here.  Apparently, they went to Thomas Jefferson many years ago.  Only when he came to the game, she wasn’t there, and my dad had no way of getting back in touch with her.”

“Well, my aunt was planning to come to Pittsburgh a few weeks ago, but her flight got cancelled due to that snowstorm.  So maybe I’m the guy you’re looking for.”

Liz elbowed me in the ribs.

“Hey, wait a second,” Jeff said.  “I know you.  You’re Miss Barrett!”

“The one and the same,” Liz crowed and nudged me again.

“Up the Down Staircase is one of my mom’s favorite plays.  When she heard you guys were doing it at Bethel Park, she bought tickets for the whole family.  You were great!”

“Thank you.  Weren’t you bored to tears?”

“No way.  I love theater.  TJ is doing West Side Story for our spring musical.  I’m planning to audition.”

“Well, if you get a part, I promise to come to see it,” I said.

 

“Cool.  Oh, I see my parents.  Gotta run.”

“Wait.  I need your aunt’s name and address.”

“Oh yeah.  Let’s exchange phone numbers and I’ll text you.  I have to get her contact information from my mom.”  We exchanged numbers, and he started to walk away.

“Name?”

“Jeff.  But I thought you knew that.”  He threaded his way through the crowd toward his parents.

“No, your aunt’s name!” I called after him, but he didn’t hear me as fans pumped his hand and thumped him on the back offering their congratulations for his performance in the game.

“Elizabeth!  What a pleasure!”

“Uh, hi Aunt Sophie.  Um, Aunt Sophie, this is my friend, Jennifer.  Jen, Aunt Sophie is Sandi’s mom.”

I shook hands with Sandi’s mother.  “So very nice to meet you.” 

“What brings you way out here, Elizabeth?  Are your parents with you?”

“No, we’re here by ourselves,” Liz replied.

“Your mom and I are meeting for lunch on Sunday after church.  I’ll let her know we talked.”

I coughed several times.  “Excuse me, but I need to find a water fountain.  Liz, please come with me.”  I coughed a few more times.  “Nice meeting you,” I waved at Sandi and her mom as we walked off in search of a fountain.

“What was that all about?” Liz said when we were out of earshot of her relatives.

“Liz, we are so busted.  I don’t know what you think of your aunt, but I can smell a busybody a mile away.  She’s going to give your mom an earful about us being here when they have lunch on Sunday.”

“She really took me by surprise.  I just wasn’t thinking that I might see her, but of course she would come to give Sandi a ride home.  What do you think I should do?”

“Confess to your parents that we came here, but blame it all on me.  Say you thought we were going to Bethel Park but I forced you to come here.”

“No, I’m just going to tell them the whole truth.  My parents are pretty understanding. I’ll bet they’ll let me off with nothing more than a light scolding when they find out we were trying to track down a potential wife for your dad and stepmom for you.”

We walked to Liz’s car and drove home.  As I climbed into bed, my phone chirped.  Jeff had texted me the information I had asked him for.

End of Part 1

The Letter - Chapter 20

My cell phone rang.  I dug deep into my purse to find it.  My sister, Marnie, was returning my call.  We’d been trading phone calls for several days without connecting.

“Hi Marnie.”

“Ellie.  Finally, we’ve connected.  Is this a good time to talk?”

I looked over at Jillian, who stood behind a heavy set woman in the stylist’s chair.  “About five minutes, Ellie,” she said as she continued to snip the woman’s too blonde hair.

“What’s with all the noise, Ellie?  Where are you?”

“At the hair salon.  My friend Beverly recommended it to prepare for my trip to Pittsburgh.”

“So you’re coming then.  Great!  Have you made flight reservations yet?”

“No, Marnie.  I was waiting to talk to you before I made them.  I was hoping to see Jeff play basketball.”

“So that’s why you’re having your hair done.  I mistakenly thought it had something to do with getting reacquainted with a certain divorced gentleman that lives in Pittsburgh.”

“Quit teasing.  I’m just getting a trim, dear sister.  I’ve let it grow too long – just through neglect, mind you.  But it definitely needs a tune-up.”

“Are you getting it colored as well?”

“No, I never have.  It’s a bit streaky with gray, but my friend says that’s trendy and I shouldn’t mess with it.”

“You’ve got a great friend in that Beverly.  I’ve got to get out there to see her again.”

“Anyway, what about Jeff’s schedule?”  I looked nervously over at Jillian who had started to blow dry and comb her client’s hair.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Jillian called to me over the noise of the blow dryer.  “Take your time.  I’m going to run next door to get a cup of coffee.”

“Bill!  Where did you put the basketball schedule?”  I heard Marnie call to her husband.

“In the drawer next to the refrigerator,” I heard my brother-in-law call back.

Jillian turned the chair so her customer faced the large mirror on the wall.  The customer nodded her approval and got up from the chair and walked to the register.

“OK, Ellie.  There’s a home game on Friday.  That’s probably too soon, right?”

“Uh, yeah.  I don’t think I can get a flight that quickly.  And I’m sending George Leskovic another letter to see if he wants to meet me there.  The letter’s basically written.  I just have to plug in the date of the game and recopy it to my stationery.”

“Recopy it?  How many drafts have you gone through to get it just right?”

A bell rung as Jillian’s customer left the salon with Jillian right behind her.

“Oh just stop it, Marnie,” I chuckled.  “Beverly and I worked on it together.  She’s quite good.  Maybe it’s all the romance novels she reads.”

“There’s another home game the following Friday.  That’s February 3^rd.  Would that work for you?”

“Yes, that would be perfect.  I hope the weather cooperates.”

“We’ll have to see what the groundhog says.”

“Well, Groundhog’s Day is when I’ll plan to arrive if it’s ok with you and Bill.  Then I’ll book my return flight for Monday.”

“Unless George persuades you to stay longer, Ellie.”

“Please, Marnie.  Let’s not get my hopes up.  The higher they go, the more pain I’ll suffer when they come crashing back to earth.”

“Oh, pooh, Ellie.  Once George realizes what a catch you are, he’ll be on the next plane to Seattle.”

“Do you really think he’d move?”

“I hope not.  I’d much rather he’d convince you to move to Pittsburgh.  But if I were writing your story, George would fly to your town first to show how much you mean to him.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic, Marnie.”

“A hopeful romantic, Ellie.  And when he arrives on your doorstep in Issequah, he’ll have a ring in his pocket!”

“Git outta tahn,” I said using my best Pittsburgh accent.

“Not bad, Ellie.  You haven’t lost it,” Marnie laughed.

You can take the gal out of Pittsburgh,” I said.

“But you can’t take Pittsburgh out of the gal,” we both laughed together.

The door rang again as Jillian walked in with a coffee drink topped with whipped cream.

“I‘ve got to go.  Time for my haircut.”

“We can’t wait to see you, Ellie.  Email me your itinerary as soon as you make your reservations.”

“Will do.  Give my love to Bill and the kids.  Bye for now.”

I put my phone away and walked over to Jillian’s chair.

“So are we just doing a trim?” she asked.

“Whatever it takes to make me irresistible.  I’m going to Pittsburgh in a week and a half to meet my future husband!”

“Jillian put down her comb and scissors.  Okay.  Why don’t we look at some pictures to get a better idea of what you’d like me to do.

I smiled as she handed me a book of hairstyles.  “You’d better watch out George Leskovic,” I said under my breath.  “I plan to knock your socks off!”

The Letter - Chapter 19

I climbed onto the crowded school bus and looked for Liz.

“Hey, Jennifer.  Over here!  I’ve saved you a seat.

“Hey, Jennifer,” a male voice said.  “I’ve saved you a seat.  Right on my lap!”

“Get a life, Terry.  You’re such a jerk.”  Terry Morrison and his friends erupted in raucous laughter. 

“You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Well, try a little harder – to be a gentleman,” I said as I sat down beside Liz.

Terry stood up, turned toward me and bowed.  “Yes, m’lady.  So sorry to have offended you,” he affected an English accent.  He and his friends laughed again.

I resisted the temptation to say anything more.  I turned to Liz, ignoring Terry and his friends.  “So how was your day, Liz?”

She gave the boys a look that would wilt lettuce.

“Just ignore them,” I said.

“Just ignore them,” Terry mocked me to more laughter.

The bus pulled out and my fan club finally settled down to play video games on their phones.  Liz sighed and shook her head.

“Do you have much homework tonight?” I asked.

“Yes.  I’ve got a bunch in physics and calculus and I’m not doing well in either subject.  What about you?”

“The same.  I guess we’ll have to skip our detective work for tonight.”

Yes, though I’d rather be working on that than on trying to understand wave theory.”

“Well, my dad will be happy to have me home for dinner two nights in a row.”

“Oh, Jennifer.  After you left the other night, I remembered that I have a cousin that goes to TJ.  She’s only a sophomore, but I’m pretty sure she’s on the cheerleading squad.”

“Really?  Do you think she could help us?”

“Maybe.  I don’t know her that well.  I only see her when there’s some big family event like a wedding or a funeral.  And then there’s usually so much going on that we don’t get much beyond hello and goodbye.”

“But if she’s a cheerleader, she probably knows the boys on the basketball team.”

“Do we know whether the mystery woman’s nephew is a senior, junior or underclassman?” 

“Not really.  She said she was coming to watch him play.  I got the impression that he is pretty good, but that could just be me making an assumption.”  I looked out the window.  Snow was still piled high along the sides of the road.  The sun had set and the street lights had started to come on.  “Maybe you could call her, but I’d prefer if you and I could talk to her face-to-face.  Is there any chance that your dad or mom would let you borrow their car so we could visit with her?”

“I don’t know,” said Liz.  “It would all seem pretty strange for me to be driving over to visit with my cousin Sandi.  Like I said, we hardly know each other.  I’d be hard pressed to explain why all of a sudden I want to get together with her.  What about you?  Do you think you could borrow your dad’s car?” 

“No way.  I only got my license like six months ago.  He lets me drive to the grocery store which is only a mile or so from our house.  But when there’s snow on the ground, I may as well not bother to ask.”  I thought for a second.  “Hey Liz, I’ve got an idea.  Would they let you take the car to the basketball game?”

“Why would we want to go to the basketball game?  Neither of us are big sports fans.  I don’t think either of us has gone to a game our entire high school career.”

“Not the Bethel Park basketball game – the basketball game at TJ. We could talk to your cousin, and who knows?  We could get lucky and actually meet the mystery lady’s nephew.”

“I don’t know if my parents would let us take the car to Thomas Jefferson.”

“Just tell them we’d like to go to the basketball game.  If they assume we’re going to our high school game, so what?  We’ll text someone we know is going to our game to get the score, but we’ll really be doing our detective work a few miles away.”

The bus made its first stop.  Terry and some of his friends got up.  “Bye Jennifer, Bye Lizzie.  See you tomorrow!”  They waved at us as they exited the bus. 

“I hope this woman’s nephew has more class than those juveniles,” I said to Liz. 

“For sure.  Now I just need to figure out how to get my cousin’s cell number and my parents to loan me their car without raising their suspicions.”

“Yeesh.  I’m supposed to be the detective, yet I’m expecting you to do all the hard work, Liz.”

“Don’t worry.  I can handle these minor details, no problem.”  Liz pulled her knit cap over her bushy brown hair and her mittens over her hands.  “My stop is coming up.”

“I should get off with you.  Mine’s the one after, but I can walk you home from the bus stop.  We can plan this out more.  It’s not too far of a walk from your place to mine.”

“Yes, but it really is bitter cold out there today.  Stay on the bus.  We’ve got to think this through a bit.  Call me later and we can talk then.”

“As usual, you’re right Elizabeth”.  The bus came to a stop and Liz walked toward the door.  “Talk to you later, Liz!”  I waved goodbye to my best friend.

“Give me a call around nine o’clock,” she shouted as she walked off the bus.  I waved at her through the window as the bus continued toward my stop.