Chapter 11

Months had gone by. We were all dating, or so I thought. Lindsey found a guy she really liked. Jen spent the night in the house every once in a while, to give them alone time. She smiled for a few months, before he suddenly dumped her. She spent three days in the house, sleeping in the same bed with Jen, recovering. She didn’t talk about it much, saying he wanted something she didn’t want to give, so they went their separate ways.

I got tired of everyone going out in the hall to talk to Miss Agnes, so I put her in the living room, over the fireplace. We would all talk to her, and every once in a while the girls would ask me to leave, while they talked about ‘girl stuff’. I didn’t mind, because I would do the same, talking to her when the girls were in their apartment.

I started dating a new woman, a tall redhead I had met during an interview, and we seemed to hit it off. She and the girls had a mutual dislike of each other, and Miss Agnes expressed her opinion. Every time Simone was at the house, no matter what the thermostat was set at, she was either burning up or freezing cold, while the rest of us were comfortable. The girls would grin and look at the mantle, while she complained.

Jen became a little distant, not spending as much time in the house as before, as did Lindsey. I thought they were being kind and giving me space. Boy, did I get that wrong. I was talking about how high maintenance Simone was becoming with Lindsey when she hauled off and slapped me.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For being a screaming idiot. The bitch is a gold digger. She walks around your house looking like she’s appraising everything she sees for an auction. Why the hell you bother with her when you have so much better waiting for you is beyond me.”

Okay, I really am an idiot. I had no idea who she was talking about. “Just who would that be?”

She slapped me harder. “Miss Agnes, a little help here?”

A picture of Jen and I, dressed to the nines in tux and evening gown, accepting our Emmy, fell of the mantle. I picked it up, smiling at the image, before it hit me. “Jen? Really? I’m too old for...” I managed to avoid the slap this time, or so I thought. I moved quickly, only to have a book fly off a shelf and hit me square in the nose. And the book was moving pretty fast.

I rubbed my nose, watching Lindsey grin. “Thank you, Miss Agnes. Think if we half beat him to death, he’ll catch on?” Another book flew off the shelf, stopped just short of my nose, and fell gently to the floor.

Lindsey grinned again. “ I think we’ve got his attention. Now you listen to me, big brother. Jen loves you, and she has for a long time. She hides in her bedroom in our apartment and cries every time that redheaded slut comes over. She’s a gold digger, Dean. She looks at this big house and sees money. She’s tried to pump us about how much money you got, but she can’t get anything from us because we don’t know and don’t care, but in her mind the figure grows every week. You need to show the skank the door, and start working on your true love. I would bet everything I have or ever will have in this life that it won’t take long before wedding bells ring. Now get off your butt and do the right thing. Miss Agnes and I will be watching, so you better not screw up.”

With that she stood on her tip toes and gave me a kiss on the cheek, turned and walked out the door. I picked the book up, idly reading the title. Without thinking I asked. “You really think Jen and I are a good match, Mom?”

I had been comparing my mother to Miss Agnes. My mom was a good woman, but she was never prone to show emotion. Oh, I was sure she loved me, but I later learned my parents had decided early on in their marriage not to have children, and I was a mistake. I look back now after I found that out, and wonder. It would explain the remoteness of their emotion, and had a lot to do with me joining the Army as soon as I graduated. I got exactly three letters the whole time I was in service. People would definitely think I was losing it if they knew I felt more connected to a woman who had passed over fifty years ago than anyone alive now, except of course, the girls.