“Five, one-and-a-half.”
“Turn around,” her mother said. “Let me look at you.” Obediently Dani turned around slowly.
“You’ve grown in other ways too. “You’re quite a young lady.”
“I wear a thirty-two bra,” Dani said, a note of pride coming into her voice. “But I have a very broad back. The way I’m growing my counselor things I’ll need at least a thirty-four by next summer.”
Nora’s voice showed annoyance. “Young ladies don’t talk about such things. I’ll send Violet in to help you unpack.”
“I don’t want Violet,” Dani said, her voice growing sullen. “I want Nanny.”
Nora turned in exasperation. “Well, Nanny isn’t here anymore. If you don’t want Violet to help you, you’ll have to do without.”
“I don’t need anyone then!” Dani retorted. Her eyes began to moisten. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to send Nanny away? Why did you keep it a secret?”
“I didn’t keep it a secret!” Nora’s voice was angry. “You’re a big girl now. You don’t need a wet nurse.”
Dani began to cry. “You could have told me.”
“Stop acting like a child! I don’t have to tell you anything. I’ll do what I think is right!”
“That’s what you always say! That’s what you said when you sent Daddy away. That’s what you said when you sent Uncle Sam away. Every time you see that somebody loves me more than they love you, you send them away! That’s why you did it!”
“Shut up!”
And for the first time in her life, her mother slapped Dani across the face. The child’s hand flew to her cheek and she looked up at her mother with horror-filled eyes. “I hate you! I hate you! Someday you’ll love somebody as much as I do and I’ll send him away from you! You’ll see how much you like it then!”
Nora dropped to her knees in front of her daughter. “I’m sorry, Dani,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it!”
Dani stared into her eyes for a moment, then turned and ran into the bathroom. “Go away! Leave me alone!” she shouted through the closed door. “I hate you. I—”
“—hate you!” she finished saying.
Sally Jennings looked across the desk as her. The child’s eyes were red with weeping. The tears had left smudgy tracks down her cheeks. Sally pushed the package of Kleenex toward her.
Dani took one and dried her face. She looked at the psychologist gratefully. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t really mean it. But there was no other way I could talk to my mother. If I didn’t scream or holler or have a fit of hysterics she’d never pay any attention to me.”
Sally nodded. She looked up at the clock. “I guess that’s all for right now, Dani,” she said gently. “Go back and try to get some sleep.”
Dani got to her feet. “Yes, Miss Jennings. Will I see you on Monday?”
The psychologist shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Dani. I have some work to do at the hospital. I won’t be in all day.”
“And Tuesday I have the hearing. I won’t be able to talk to you then either.”
Sally nodded. “That’s right. But don’t worry about it, Dani. We’ll find a way to work something
out.”
She watched the matron lead the child down the corridor. She sank back into her chair and
reached for a cigarette. She lit it and switched on the recorder. She didn’t have it all but she had enough to start with. That was the tough thing about this job. There never was enough time to see any one thing really through.
__________________________________________
I walked over to the window and looked out. The morning fog was still heavy on the street. I lit a cigarette restlessly. I turned and looked at the telephone. Maybe I should try to reach Elizabeth again. Then I thought better of it. There would be no answer. She just wasn’t picking up the phone. I’d been a fool. I never should have sent her that picture.
Elizabeth had been quiet enough on the phone when I’d told her about it. “It’s crazy,” she said. “What could Nora expect to get from something like that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe like the man said, insurance, or maybe just to hold over me like a club.
That’s why I’m sending you the picture.”
“Don’t send it to me, Luke. I don’t want to see it. Get rid of it.”
“I can’t,” I said. “The only chance I have is if I send it to you. If it weren’t a phony I wouldn’t. You know that. I’ll send it airmail, registered special. You don’t have to open it. Just put it in a safe place.”
“You’re asking a lot. You know I won’t be able to resist looking at it.” “Look at it then,” I said, “and see what a jerk you married.”
She was silent for a moment. “I wish I’d never let you go out there.” “It’s too late to think about that now.”
She was silent again. “Are you all right?” “Yes.”
“Sure?”
“Sure. We’re both waiting for you to come home.”
That had been Thursday morning. I mailed the letter and called her the next day, after I figured she’d received it. The moment I heard her voice I knew I was in trouble. She sounded as if she’d been crying.
“You come home right now!”
“But Elizabeth,” I protested. “It’s only a few more days now ’til the custody hearing.” “I don’t care!” she said. “You come home!”
“You saw the picture?”
“The picture had nothing to do with it!”
“I told you it was a frame.”
“Even if it was,” she sobbed, “you didn’t have to look so damn happy about it!” “Elizabeth, be reasonable.”
“I’ve been reasonable long enough. Now I’m just being a woman. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Send me a wire when you’re ready to leave!”
Then she hung up. I called right back. But for the next hour all I got was a busy signal. She must have left the telephone off the hook. Then I got a call from the lobby that Miss Spicer was waiting for me and I went downstairs.
We had our interview in the coffee shop. “How is Dani?” I asked after the waitress had brought us our coffee.
“Much better,” she said. “She’s been much more cooperative these last few days.” “I’m glad to hear that.”
She looked at me. “She’s still a very sick girl.” “What makes you say that?”
“Whatever is troubling her is buried deep. We haven’t yet come up with the reason for her exploding the way she did. There are some things about her we just don’t understand.”
“Like what?” I asked. “Maybe I can help.”
“As a child was she given to tantrums, outburst of temper, violent rages when she was frustrated?”
I shook my head. “Not that I remember. Usually she was just the opposite. She used to go away by herself when she was upset. Generally up to her room or to her governess. Otherwise she’d try to pretend there was nothing the matter. She’d be extra nice, try harder to please.”
“Did she act like that to you?”
I laughed. “I’m afraid she never had to. Dani could always twist me around her finger.” “Toward her mother then?”
I hesitated.
“Please tell me,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel I’m prying, or that I’m urging you to be uncharitable. But at this point every bit of information is important.”
“Nora never really abused her,” I said. “The things that Dani felt bad about were generally acts of omission, rather than commission.”
“Did you and Miss Hayden often quarrel in front of the child?”
I looked at her and laughed. “Our relationship was a very civilized one, at least according to Nora. We existed in a constant state of cold war. It never burst into open conflict.”
“What made you stop visiting your daughter when you did?” “I was told to.”
“By Miss Hayden?” I nodded.
“There’s no record of the court terminating your visiting rights. You didn’t raise the issue when Miss Hayden forbade the visits?”
“I was in no position to do anything. I was broke.” “What did you do then?”
I looked into her eyes. “I got drunk,” I said simply.
“You didn’t try to tell your daughter why you couldn’t visit her?”
I shook my head. “What good would that have done? It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
Miss Spicer didn’t answer. After a few moments she said. “I saw your former mother-in-law yesterday. I presume you’re aware of her plans for Dani?”
“I am.”
I’d been at the meeting when it was discussed. The old lady had worked wonders in the short time she’d had. It must have cost her plenty, but Dani had already been accepted by a new school with a great reputation for dealing with problem children. Dr. Weidman, a prominent child psychiatrist, who was also connected with the school, was at the meeting and was prepared to take on the responsibility for her rehabilitation.
“Do you approve?” Miss Spicer asked.
“I think it’s an extremely good plan. It seems to me that Dani would have far better care than the state could provide.”
“You don’t object to Dani’s becoming a ward of her grandmother’s?”
“No. It seems the only practical solution to me. Mrs. Hayden is an extremely responsible person.
She’ll make certain that Dani has everything she needs.”
“I’m sure she will,” Miss Spicer said dryly. “But, then, if what you tell me is true, so did her mother.”
I knew what she meant. Nora had given Dani everything she seemed to need and still it hadn’t prevented anything. “Mrs. Hayden will be able to devote much more time to Dani. She doesn’t have the outside interests that Nora has.”
“You know, of course, Colonel, that your daughter is not a virgin. In all probability she was having an affair with the man she killed.”
“I’ve guessed as much,” I said frankly.
“Miss Hayden said she hadn’t been aware of it.” I had nothing to say to that.
“It seems to us that Dani has little conception of sexual morality. And from what we’ve been able to find out, her mother hasn’t set a particularly good example.”
“I think we all realize that,” I said. “That’s one of the reasons why I feel Dani would be better
off living with her grandmother.”
She looked at me. “That might be true. But we’re a little concerned about it. If the grandmother wasn’t successful in curbing the impulses of her own daughter, how successful could she be with the grandchild?” She finished her cup of coffee. “Perhaps the best thing for the child would be to remove her from that environment completely.”
She got to her feet. “Thank you very much for talking with me, Colonel.”
In the lobby she stopped for a moment. “There are two things that still puzzle me.” “What are they?”
“Why did Dani kill him if she loved him?” “And the other?”
“If she did kill him, why is it that no matter where we turn we can find no evidence that Dani possessed a violent enough temper to explode into murder?” She hesitated a moment. “If we only had more time.”
“How would that help?”
“We have to find the cause before we can recommend the cure,” she said. “We’re working against time. We recommend a course of action and hope that we’re right. But if we can’t turn up the reason, we have to recommend that the child be sent to Perkins for a study in depth. We have to be sure.”
“What’s your batting average?” I asked.
She looked up at me and smiled suddenly. “Surprisingly good. It’s always a source of wonder to
me.”
“Maybe you people are better than you think.”
“I hope so,” she said seriously. “More for the children’s sake than our own.”
I watched her walk out of the lobby, then went back to my room. I called Elizabeth again, but
again the telephone just rang and rang. Finally, I gave up and went across the street to
Tommy’s Joynt
and had some big German knockwurst and beans and a stein of beer for dinner.
On Sunday I drove out to Juvenile Hall. Dani seemed to be in a good mood.
“Mother came out to see me twice this week. You just missed her. She said they were fixing it so I can live at Grandmother’s when I get out. Both times she came with Dr. Weidman. You know him, Daddy?”
“I met him.”
“He’s a head-shrinker. I think Mother likes him.” “What makes you say that?”
She gave me a sly grin. “He’s Mother’s type. You know, talks a lot and says nothing. Art and all that jazz.”
I laughed. “How about a Coke?”
“It’s a deal.”
I gave her two dimes and watched her walk over to the vending machine. Quite a few of the tables were occupied. It looked more like Parents’ Day at a school than a detention home. Only the matrons at the doors and the bars on the high windows told me it wasn’t. Dani came back and put the Cokes down on the table.
“Do you want a straw, Daddy?”
“No, thanks. I’ll take mine straight.” I raised the bottle to my lips and took a swallow. She looked at me over her straw. “When I do that, Mother says it’s vulgar.”
“Your mother’s an expert on vulgarity,” I said quickly, the regretted it. We were silent for a minute.
“Do you still drink the way you used to, Daddy?” Dani asked suddenly. I stared at her in surprise. “What made you ask that all of a sudden?”
“I just remembered something,” she said. “How you used to smell when you’d come to pick me up. It’s nothing. I just thought of it, that’s all.”
“No, I don’t drink like that anymore.” “Was it because of Mother?”
I thought for a moment. It would be easy enough to say it was. But it wouldn’t be altogether true. “No,” I said. “That wasn’t the reason.”
“Then why did you, Daddy?”
“For a lot of reasons. But mostly because I was trying to hide from myself. I didn’t want to face the fact that I was a failure.”
Dani was silent while she thought about that. Then she had her answer. “But you weren’t a failure, Daddy,” she said. “You had your boat.”
I smiled, thinking how simple her logic made it. But in a way she was right. She probably didn’t know that I’d ever tried anything else. “I was an architect. I wanted to be a builder but it didn’t work out.”
“But you’re a builder now. One of the papers said so.”
“I’m not really. I just work for a builder. I’m really a construction foreman.” “I’d like to be a builder,” she said suddenly. “I’d build happy houses.” “How would you go about doing that?”
“I wouldn’t build a house for any family unless they were happy together and wanted to stay together.”
I smiled at her. Right was right. She had the only foundation you could build on. But who gave the guarantees? God?