Finders Keepers

by Fern Michaels

Genres: Romance

Synopsis

Raised in a magnificent Charleston house, Jessie Roland wants for nothing. But as she grows into young adulthood, all she feels is loss and a desperate need to break free from the stifling possessiveness of her parents. Somewhere, in the deepest part of herself, Jessie believes that the world she has always lived in is not the one she came from...or belongs in.

Now, at 19, she has escaped to Washington, DC, where no one knows her, and where she is swept into a whirlwind marriage to a Texas senator's son. But the past will not release Jessie, who is still haunted by a sense of lost happiness, of simple, tender gestures buried in her memory. Only in Luke Holt, a reclusive rancher, will she discover the strength to penetrate the darkness, and find her way back to a place she can call home.

Release date: April 7, 2011

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

Grace Larson leaned over to kiss her husband’s cheek. “You’re running late tonight, sport,” she teased her husband.

“Hmmm, you smell good. How’s your cold?”

“Better. Hannah felt a little feverish this afternoon. She’s sleeping in the stroller. Jelly is watching her.”

Ben Larson closed the ledger and placed it in the drawer. Suddenly he turned, heading for the front door. “Why in the world is Jelly barking like that? The pumps are closed, and the sign is up. You better check on him while I lock up and turn off the lights.”

“You know Jelly. He barks when the wind blows.” She listened for a moment. “He stopped barking. Guess your customer drove away. You look tired, honey. I hope you aren’t coming down with my cold. It’s terrible to get a cold in the summer. I hate it that you have to work here on the weekends, Ben.”

Ben sighed. “I know you do, Grace. We’ve been through all this. We’re saving for Hannah’s college tuition. The first Larson to go to college is not something to take lightly. You and Hannah are the most important things in the world to me.”

“I love you, Ben Larson. That day you sat down next to me in kindergarten class and said, ‘My name is Ben, what’s yours,’ was the day I fell in love with you. Do you want to know something else? I’m going to love you forever and ever.”

“And I’m going to love you forever and ever, too. We’re both going to love Hannah forever and ever, too. How are we going to handle it when she goes to kindergarten? What if she sits next to a boy and falls in love with him on her first day?”

“We’ll handle it, Ben. We’re a family, remember. As long as we stick together and present a united front, we can do anything. Do you agree?”

Ben hugged his wife. “Let’s get our daughter and our dog and head home.”

Grace grabbed her pocketbook and turned the knob of the door. “Hannah’s gone! Ben, she’s gone. So is Jelly. He broke the rope. Ben, do something.”

“Take it easy, Grace. She probably woke up and had to go to the bathroom. She knows where the bathroom is. Jelly broke the rope because it was old and frayed. He would never let anything happen to Hannah Banana.” This last was said over his shoulder as he raced toward the rest room at the back of the station.

“She isn’t here, Ben. Where’s Jelly? Oh, Ben, she’s gone! Someone stole our little girl. Call the sheriff. Ben, call the sheriff right now! Oh, God, oh, God. Hurry, Ben. That’s why Jelly was barking. Do you think it was your dad, Ben? That was a stupid thing to say. Jelly would never bark at your dad.”

Ben slammed at the door until he remembered he’d locked it. His hands shook so badly he could barely fit the key into the lock. Within seconds he had Sheriff Evans on the phone. He blurted out that Hannah was missing. “Right now, Sheriff. I need you to come here right now. Grace is falling apart on me. I’m going to call the rectory and ask Father Mitchell to ring the bell. As soon as that bell rings everyone in town will be on the square. We have to move fast, Elmo. Don’t tell me to be calm. My daughter and my dog are missing. This is a peaceful community, so don’t tell me one of our town citizens walked off with Hannah. Hurry, Elmo.”

“Ben . . . What if some stranger took her? I didn’t hear a car, did you? Hannah wouldn’t wander off. She’s afraid of the road and the cars. Besides, Jelly would have herded her back to the station. Golden retrievers are very protective. That’s why we got him for Hannah. Oh, God, Ben, what if we never get her back? We don’t have any money, so it can’t be a ransom kidnapping. Some crazy person stole her. I just know it.”

“Shhh. Try to be calm, Grace. I refuse to believe someone just drove up and took our daughter. That’s insane. I’m sure Hannah woke up and decided to go for a walk. Jelly got upset and broke his rope. He’s with her. Try to hang on to that.”

Ashton’s only patrol car skidded to a stop. Sheriff Elmo Evans motioned for Grace and Ben to get into the car just as the church bell pealed three ominous bursts of sound that signaled a town emergency. Within minutes most of Ashton’s seven thousand inhabitants would assemble in the small town square to do what they could for one of their own.

Grace burst into tears at the sound of the traffic on the square. People came on foot, on bicycles, in cars and trucks. Within minutes the sheriff called out a game plan and assigned areas to be covered. “We think the dog is with the little girl. He’s protective and answers to the name of Jelly, as you all know. Do not, I repeat, do not spook the dog. My deputy is going to hand out flares to the head of each group. If you see Hannah or the dog, light it up. I put in a call to the state troopers, so we’ll have some additional help.”

“What about the FBI, Sheriff?” someone shouted.

“I’m working on that, Cyrus. Get moving. It looks like it might rain before long. We don’t want that little girl shivering and getting wet.”

Grace wept as she clung to her husband. “Go with your mother, Grace. I’m going to help search.”

“Will you find her, Ben?”

“Yes.” He hated himself for the lie, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m going back to the station to wait. Jelly will go back there because Hannah’s stroller is there. I’m going, Ben. I’ll sit there all night if I have to.”

“Do what you have to do, honey.” To Emma Andrews, Grace’s mother, he said, “Stay with her, Emma.”

“Of course, Ben. Father Mitchell turned the lights on in the church. Roy Clark turned on every light in town. I don’t know how he did that, but he did. So Hannah and Jelly can find their way in the dark, I suppose.”

“Hannah’s afraid of the dark, Mom,” Grace sobbed.

“Shhh. She won’t be afraid if Jelly is with her. He’ll keep her warm, too. In case she wants to lie down somewhere to go to sleep.”

Grace’s shoulders shook. “Hannah’s coming down with a cold. She felt feverish this afternoon. She fell asleep in the stroller, and I didn’t want to wake her. God, why didn’t I just pick her up and take her in the store? It’s my fault, Mom, I never should have left her alone.”

“Honey, this is Ashton Falls. You had no way of knowing something like this could happen. This is a peaceful, law-abiding town. It’s going to be all right, Grace. God won’t let harm come to Hannah.”

“Then where is she, Mom?” Grace screamed, her voice rising to such a high pitch that Emma Andrews flinched.

Shortly before ten o’clock a misty rain started to fall. Grace huddled with her mother under the garage overhang. Her grip on the stroller and Jelly’s frayed rope turned her knuckles white. At midnight, when thunder and lightning lit up the sky, the state troopers called a halt to the search.

A state trooper in a yellow slicker approached Grace. “Ma’am, your husband wants me to take you and your mother home. He wants you to know the roadblocks are in place, and the FBI will be here shortly.”

“What good is a roadblock? It’s been five hours. Whoever took Hannah is long gone. No, no, I can’t leave. Jelly will come back here. He won’t know what to do if he doesn’t see me. I can’t go home. I don’t want to go home. Don’t you understand, I have to stay here.”

“Ma’am, I do understand. The weather is only going to get worse. Will you at least go inside? Mr. Delaney gave me the key to the garage. You can watch from the window.”

“Do what he says, Grace. You have a cold as it is. You can’t afford to get pneumonia,” Emma said.

Inside, out of the rain, the sound of thunder was less ominous. “They aren’t going to find her, Mom. I know it as sure as I know I have to take another breath to stay alive. Hannah isn’t coming back.”

“Grace, I refuse to listen to talk like this. I want you to stop it right now.”

“Mom, if they couldn’t find her in five hours, she isn’t here to be found. Someone took her in a car. That’s why Jelly was barking. Ashton Falls is a small town. They covered it in less than three hours. I know she isn’t here, and so do you, Mom, so stop pretending. My baby is gone, and I’m never going to get her back. I don’t know what to do. How are Ben and I going to handle this? Hannah was our life.”

“Listen to me, Grace. God never gives you more than you can handle. I want you to remember that.”

“I don’t want to hear religious platitudes right now. What kind of god would let someone take my child? What kind of god would make me suffer like this? Don’t tell me He’s testing me either. I want my baby, Mom. Where’s Ben?”

“I don’t know, Grace. He’s probably with his father and your dad. He won’t give up.”

“Mom, go home or go see Ben’s mother. I’m better off being by myself. If Ben calls, tell him I’m here.”

“I don’t like leaving you alone like this.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Mom.”

The moment Emma Andrews left the service station, Grace walked outside to sit down next to the stroller, the frayed rope clutched to her breast. Every five minutes she called her daughter’s name until her voice was little more than a raspy croak. She cried, great gulping sobs, her whole body shaking with agony.

Shortly before dawn, Ben, his father, and Grace’s father returned to the garage. “I’m taking you home, Grace. I can see by looking at you you’re running a fever. I don’t want to hear another word. Jelly knows the way home. If . . . when he comes back, he’ll head straight for the house.”

Grace allowed herself to be led to the car.

“Ben, we’re all just going through the motions. She’s gone. We’re wasting time combing the area. We need to go on television and radio. Too many hours have gone by. I feel it here, Ben. We’re too late. I should have gone out there the minute Jelly started to bark. Why didn’t I go out there, Ben?”

“Because Jelly barks at the wind. This is not your fault, Grace.”

“You look so tired, Ben. I’m so sorry.”

Ben wrapped his arms around his wife. “We’ll find her, Grace. I know we will. Hannah belongs to us. We have to believe she’ll come back to us.”

Grace didn’t believe any such thing. She knew Ben didn’t believe his own words either. He was trying to make her feel better. For her husband’s sake she nodded and prayed she was wrong.

The Larson family spent the following three days doing radio and television interviews, pleading with the person who took their child to return her to her family. Reporters wrote touching, poignant stories about Hannah Larson and her dog Jelly, to no avail.

Four days after Hannah’s disappearance, Grace woke and knew she had to go to the garage. She threw on the first clothes her hands came in contact with. “I don’t care, Ben. I’m going to the station. I have to wait. Forever if necessary. I can’t stand being here in this house. I’ll put the coffee on for you before I leave.”

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He wished he could cry. He wished he could walk downstairs and hear Hannah shout, “Daddy, Daddy!” He wished his wife wouldn’t stare into space, and he wished she wouldn’t sleep in the chair in Hannah’s bedroom. He needed to put his arms around her, needed to feel the warmth of her because he felt ice-cold all the way to his soul. He felt like he was living with a stranger, someone he’d just met who didn’t particularly like him. He sighed. Maybe today would be better than yesterday. Maybe.

It’s a beautiful morning, Grace thought. The birds were chirping, the air was fragrant with the scent of pine everywhere. The early dew sparkled on the grass that was greener than emeralds. Hannah had always been an early bird and would rush outside in the summer months with Jelly to run barefoot through the small fenced yard, laughing and giggling as she wiggled her bare toes in the wet grass. Dear God, where is she?

“Grace, what brings you to the station so early this morning?” Jonah Delaney asked, his eyes going to the pink stroller still leaning against the bright red Coca-Cola cooler.

“I had to come here, Jonah. Do you mind if I sit here? If it’s a problem, I can go around to the side.”

“Of course it isn’t a problem. You can sit here as long as you like. I’ll fetch you some coffee, Grace. Would you like a sticky bun or some toast. You’re looking peaked to me.”

“Coffee will be fine. I won’t get in your way.” She leaned over to sniff the stroller. “It still smells like her, all powdery and fresh. You know, clean. If she doesn’t come back, do you think the smell will stay, Jonah?”

“I’m sure it will, Grace.”

A long time later Grace looked up at the big rusty-looking clock over the Coke cooler, surprised that it was three o’clock. If Hannah was at home, she’d just be waking up from her nap. Tears blurred her vision when she moved from one bench to the other. When she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, she swiped at them with the sleeve of her dress. She was out of her chair a moment later. JELLY! “Jonah, come quick. Help me! It’s Jelly. He’s back. Hurry, Jonah. He can hardly walk.”

Grace sprinted across the lot just as the golden dog collapsed. She gasped at his raw and bleeding paws. He was matted and dirty, his eyes crusty, his lips cracked and bleeding. The sound of his whimpering was heartbreaking. “Quick, Jonah, get some water and bring your truck. We have to get him to the vet right away. It’s going to be all right, Jelly. Please, God, I need you to help me. Let this dog live. For Hannah when she comes back. For me for now because it’s all I have. Please, God. I’m begging you. Don’t let anything happen to this dog. Please. Please, help him.” Grace swore later that she knew the moment she finished uttering her small prayer that Jelly felt the power of another being because he struggled to lick her hand and wag his tail.

“Just give him little sips of water, Grace,” Jonah said. “Not too much. Can you get him in the truck?”

“I can get him in the truck, Jonah. I want you to drive like a bat out of hell. As soon as you hit the parking lot of the clinic start blasting your horn.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“My God, Grace,” Charlie Zeback exclaimed when he heard the horn and came running.

“Whatever it takes, do. I don’t care how much it costs. I’m staying with him, so don’t even think about asking me to leave.”

Four hours later Grace said, “I’m taking him home, Charlie. He’ll mend faster at home. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“He’s not out of the woods, Grace. He’s going to need constant care. I’ll come by later tonight to check on him. It will be around midnight or so. Is that too late?”

“That’s fine. I want to make sure I have this right. He can lick ice cubes and he gets a spoonful of boiled ground beef every hour. You hydrated him. We’re putting doggie diapers on him so he doesn’t have to get up and down. He’s not to walk on his paws at all. I can carry him, that’s no problem. I have the ointment for his mouth and the drops for his eyes. He’s going to be okay, isn’t he, Charlie? I want the truth.”

“I think he’s going to make it. Lord, I wish he could talk.”

Grace started to cry. “He ran himself ragged trying to save Hannah. He must have run after a car. Can I pay you later, Charlie?”

“No, you cannot. This one is on the house. I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror if I charged you for this. Call me if there’s a problem. Ben just pulled up. Do you want me to carry him out to the car?”

“I’ll carry him, Charlie. He needs me. And I need him.”

Ben offered to carry Jelly into the house. “No, I’ll carry him,” Grace said. “Will you cook up some hamburger for him. You have to boil it. Bring it upstairs with a bowl of ice and all that stuff Charlie gave me.”

“Upstairs? Aren’t you going to keep him in the kitchen?”

“No.”

Grace struggled upstairs with the heavy dog. Breathing like a racehorse, she made it to Hannah’s small, colorful bedroom. Holding the yellow dog securely, she sat down in the rocking chair. “Hush little baby, don’t you cry ...” Tears splashed down on the dog’s head. “I know you did your best. You’re going to be fine. We’ll do what we can. That means we’ll do our best. Sleep now, Jelly. You’re safe. Thank you, God.” Grace wasn’t sure, but she thought the big dog sighed with relief. An instant later he was asleep in her lap. She continued to rock him, singing the familiar lullabies she used to sing to Hannah.

“Grace, it’s three o’clock in the morning. Aren’t you coming to bed?” Ben said from the doorway. He listened to the dog’s painful whimpering—or was it Grace whimpering? It was hard to tell. He wanted to pray at that moment. The need was so strong he felt his knees start to give way.

“No, Ben, I’m not. I’m going to sit here with this dog forever or as long as it takes him to regain his strength and until his paws heal. I might be sitting in this chair for a month. This is my only link to Hannah. When he’s well he might be able to lead us to the place where he lost our daughter. It’s a miracle we got him back. Four days, Ben! Four damn days! Look at him! He was almost dead, but he made it back to the station. I told you he would. I knew it. I just knew it. Go back to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

They didn’t talk in the morning. They didn’t talk for days. Grace grew haggard and gaunt, Ben just as gaunt and haggard.

On the sixth day, Jelly wiggled and squirmed in Grace’s arms. He wanted down, and he wanted the contraption wrapped around his back end off. Grace ran to the linen closet for an old towel she laid by the door. On wobbly legs, the bandages still wrapped around his paws, he lifted his leg. “It’s okay, Jelly, that’s what it’s for. How about some food. Good stuff, hamburger and dog food mixed together.” Jelly wolfed it down in seconds.

Grace howled her misery when the dog leaped into Hannah’s small bed. With his bandaged paws he made a nest for himself, his eyes soulful when he stared at Grace.

“Maybe she’ll come back someday, Jelly. I just don’t know. Everyone is doing what they can. It just isn’t good enough. In another month those same people will be saying, Hannah who? I don’t pray anymore. I try, but the words stick in my throat. I asked God to keep you alive. That was my last prayer. I don’t even know if I believe in God anymore. I miss her so much, Jelly. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Grace slid onto the bed and stretched out next to the golden dog. She cried in her sleep, tears rolling down her cheeks. The dog licked them away, his eyes ever watchful.

It was all he could do.

The last golden days of summer fled with the tourists, some of them passing through Ashton Falls on their way home to ready the children for school and the Labor Day picnics that flourished in backyards across the country.

Ten weeks later Hannah Larson’s pink stroller and Jelly’s frayed rope still stood sentinel at Jonah Delaney’s filling station, along with a poster-size picture of the missing toddler.

Little progress had been made in the ten weeks since Hannah’s disappearance. As one federal agent put it, “It’s like the earth opened and swallowed the little girl.” The bureau brought in bloodhounds. Twice the agents took Jelly and the Larsons out in the car, stopping every few miles for Jelly to get out of the car to see if he could pick up the scent. The agents could only marvel when the retriever reached the point where he’d either given up or he could no longer follow the car carrying Hannah. The loyal dog had run a total of 135 miles. The AP wire service flashed his heroics around the country to no avail. He still wore booties filled with lamb’s wool, the pads of his paws slowly healing with the ointment Grace applied three times a day.

One of the ladies from St. Gabriel’s Altar Society presented Grace and Ben with a thick scrapbook of newspaper clippings that detailed Hannah’s disappearance and Jelly’s heroics. “For when Hannah comes back, Grace,” she had said. “Put it away and don’t torment yourself by looking at it.” Grace had put it in Hannah’s sock drawer and swore she would never ever look at it.

Grace was unemployed these days because the grocery store wouldn’t allow her to keep Jelly with her. Sanitary reasons, the manager had said. She didn’t care. Instead of working she dragged her sewing machine into Hannah’s bedroom, where she sewed dresses and playsuits for Hannah, beautiful clothes with bits of lace and colorful rickrack. Often she sewed far into the night, Jelly at her side, Ben alone in their room. She didn’t care about that either.

The holidays passed in a blur of misery. There was no Christmas tree, no wrapped presents, no Christmas cookies. Grace refused to attend Midnight Mass, so Ben and his parents went alone. She spent Christmas day knitting a bright red sweater for Hannah, a sweater she knew the little girl would never wear.

By the time winter passed and the first daffodils sprouted in the front yard, Ben Larson was spending more time racing home to check on his wife than he was working. His termination slip arrived the day before Good Friday. Grace shrugged when she looked at the pink slip. She continued to sew and knit.

The day Ben’s unemployment ran out the mortgage company foreclosed on the small two-bedroom house. Cyril Andrews and Nick Larson, along with Ben, carried Grace kicking and screaming from the small bedroom that had once been Hannah’s room.

Later, when the townspeople spoke about Grace, they shook their heads, and whispered, “A nervous breakdown is nothing to be ashamed of.” Then they would go on to say, “Time will heal Grace’s wounds.”

They were wrong. Two years went by before Father Mitchell took matters in his own hands and announced at early Mass that the following week was going to be dedicated to Grace and Ben Larson. Translated it meant the good people of Ashton Falls were going to build a house for the young couple on land donated by the parish. To further sweeten the deal Ben was offered the job of custodian of St. Gabriel’s when seventy-seven-year-old Malcom Fortensky retired. The women from the Altar Society took it upon themselves to refurbish the Larsons’ furniture, which was stored in their families’ basements.

Grace, Ben, and Jelly at her side, wept when she walked through the small house that was almost a replica of the one they had once owned.

As Father Mitchell put it, it was time for Grace and Ben to join the living again.

When they retired for the night, Grace said, “I want a baby, Ben. It’s been three years.”

Exactly one year later, a seven-pound-nine-ounce baby boy named John was born to the Larsons. That same year, Jelly fathered a litter of six. The pick of the litter was named Jelly Junior.

The little girl looked wistfully at her classmates as they skipped off holding hands. She wished she could run alongside them, singing at the top of her lungs the way they were doing. She hung back, not wanting to get into the limousine that dropped her off and picked her up every day after school. She knew her mother was sitting in the backseat, watching her behind the heavily tinted windows. The moment Thea Roland stepped out of the car to the curb, the other children stopped to stare. Dressed in a swirling flowered dress with matching floppy-brimmed hat and short white gloves, she handed her daughter a single yellow rose. Jessie accepted the rose because it was a ritual her mother went through every day. She hated the roses, hated the way her mother looked. Why couldn’t she dress like the other mothers who came to pick up their children in station wagons, wearing jeans or slacks, their hair tied in ponytails? Jessie suffered through the paralyzing hug and sickening kiss of adoration before she climbed into the backseat of the limousine.

“Now, tell Mama what kind of day you had, sweetheart. You look tired. Do you feel all right?”

“It was a nice day, Mama. I got red A’s on all my homework. Sheila told the class she climbed a tree all the way to the top. Marcy said she went canoeing with her father. Claire Marie said her daddy built her a tree house, and she had a tea party. She invited all the girls to the tea party. She asked me why I didn’t come. I told her I didn’t know she invited me. I wanted to go, Mama.”

“I don’t want you scampering up and down trees. It isn’t ladylike. You and I can have a tea party when we get home. Miss Ellie baked cookies today just for you. Won’t that be nice? Now, slide over here and sit on my lap and tell me what else happened in school today.”

“I’m getting too big to sit on your lap, Mama. You shouldn’t hold my hand when you walk me to the door in the morning. The girls laugh at me and call me a baby.”

“You are my baby, Jessie. They’re just jealous because their mothers are too busy. Those mothers can’t wait to get rid of their children in the morning. I count the hours until it’s time to pick you up. Tell me what you want to do after we have our tea party. Do you want to ride in your electric car or do you want to ride your pony? Samuel finished painting the trim on your playhouse this morning. He said it would be dry by the time you got home from school. School will be out in another week. And then it’s that magical day—your birthday. Have you been thinking about what you’d like for a present?”

“Yes. I want a pair of blue jeans, some sneakers, and a beanie. I want one of those book bags that the other girls have. I hate this book bag. Nobody has a flowered book bag. I want a dog. Everyone has a dog.”

“Darling, that bag cost a hundred dollars. If the other girls had a hundred dollars to spend, they’d have one just like it. Mama is allergic to animals, so you can’t have a dog.”

“I could keep the dog in the playhouse. The kind of book bags the other girls have only cost five dollars. Why can’t I dress the way they do? I want a dog.” Jessie jerked her hand away and slid to the corner of her seat, away from her mother.

Thea Roland sighed as though the weight of the world settled on her shoulders. “Sweetheart, those girls dress that way because it’s all their parents can afford. They think it’s fashionable, but in reality it is quite tacky. Their parents are probably struggling to pay the tuition here at Miss Primrose’s school. Daddy and I don’t want you looking like a ragamuffin.”

Jessie’s voice took on a stubborn tone. “I want to look like everyone else. If I looked like everyone else, maybe the girls would eat lunch with me or ask me to skip rope at recess. They don’t like me, Mama.”

“I told you, Jessie, they’re jealous of you. Would you like to go to another school?”

“Mama, this is school number four. I don’t like starting over.”

“Let’s talk about what we’re going to do for your birthday. Daddy wants to have a big party for you. We’ll invite everyone from your class.”

“Can I invite Sophie?” Sophie was the daughter of Thea’s best friend in Atlanta. She was a year older than Jessie and came to visit twice a year. Jessie adored her.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll call her mother tonight.”

“Can I talk to Sophie?”

“We’ll see.”

“Daddy promised to put a telephone in my room so I could call Sophie when I wanted to. He said I could have one in the playhouse, too.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“When?”

“At dinnertime.”

“Will you promise?”

“Yes, Jessie, I promise. Now, slide over here and give me a big kiss.”

Jessie inched her way over to her mother. She wanted to cry, but then her mother would think she was sick and take her to the doctor or else she’d give her a laxative and a cup of stinky tea that tasted like dirt from the backyard.

The moment the huge car stopped under the portico, Jessie leaped out.

“Change your clothes, darling. Everything is laid out on your bed. I’ll arrange for our tea party. I think some of Ellie’s ice cream will go nicely with those fat sugar cookies she made this morning.”

Jessie slammed the door shut. If she had one wish in life it would be that the door had a lock. She looked around at the elaborate bedroom that had its own sitting room. She didn’t like it at all.

The frilly playsuit beckoned with the matching socks and sandals. She felt the urge to cry again. “I just want a friend,” she whimpered.

Jessie’s eyes narrowed when she heard her mother call from the bottom of the steps. “Our tea party is ready, darling.” Defiantly Jessie sat down on the bed. She looked around at what her father called Princess Jessie’s bedroom. It looked just like Mac Neals toy store on King Street. As soon as a new toy or game came on the market, it was hand-delivered, and then she was forced to play with it with her parents. Everything was bright and shiny new because she didn’t want to disturb her mother’s arrangements. She knew when she was dropped off at school that her mother rushed home to arrange everything to her liking. She flopped back on the bed to stare up at the lacy canopy overhead. Belgium lace, whatever that was, hung in folds and drapes.

“Jessie, sweetheart, what are you doing up there?”

“I’m coming, Mama.”

Jessie suffered through the tea party and the obligatory ride around the garden in her electric car. She did two turns on the sliding board, allowing her mother