10
Meet the Parents
Lombard was having a muffin for breakfast the next morning when he heard the doorbell ring. He called out, "I'll get it!" and got up and walked up to the door. He opened it and in the doorway stood two people, a man and a woman who both looked to be in their mid-forties, the woman's soft curls framing her face and the man's jaw set firmly.
Lombard remembered what Evelyn and Vera had told him last night and smiled and said, "Good day to both of you! You must be the Claythornes!"
"Yes, indeed we are," said Mr. Claythorne, sounding as though he wasn't impressed with Lombard. "And you are...?"
"I'm Philip Lombard, and I happen to be staying here for the next few weeks until my house is fixed," said Lombard boldly.
"Oh dear, what happened to your house?" asked Mrs. Claythorne.
"I burned it down," shrugged Lombard. "Would you care to come in?"
Mr. and Mrs. Claythorne looked at him oddly, but came in nonetheless, following Lombard to the kitchen. "I was just having breakfast," said Lombard in the same, cheerful tone that was making him want to lose his breakfast. "Would either of you care to have something?"
"No, we would not," said Mr. Claythorne in an almost growl.
Not wanting to sound impolite, Mrs. Claythorne quickly said, "We already had a bite to eat before coming." Then, "How's Vera doing? She still seemed to be a bit shaken up from the experience the last time we saw her."
"Well, I think she and I both are still a bit shaken up, but I think we're both making a slow but steady recovery," shrugged Lombard.
"That's right, I remember you now!" said Mr. Claythorne. "I was wondering where I'd heard your name before. You're the other survivor, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," said Lombard, thinking, My cheeks hurt.
"Evelyn told us Vera's been having nightmares," said Mrs. Claythorne. "Is she still having them?"
"Yes, but Evelyn usually gets up to comfort her," said Lombard, hoping they wouldn't venture any further into the topic.
Vera gave her hair one last brush and smoothed out the front of her cornflower blue, half-past-knee dress. Her parents were coming today, and she wanted to give them the impression that she was recovering just fine, which, in a sense, was true. She still had nightmares, but was no longer afraid to be alone.
Vera tucked part of her hair behind her ear and walked out of her bedroom. She walked down the hall and into the kitchen—and saw Lombard talking with her parents. Shyly, she took a few steps forward and said, "Hello."
Her parents looked up and saw her. Her mother smiled. "Vera," she whispered. She got up, walked up to Vera and gave her a hug. "How are you doing?" she asked.
"Somewhat better," admitted Vera. "I'm not afraid to be by myself anymore, but I still have the nightmares."
"Oh, my poor baby," said Mrs. Claythorne sympathetically. "Thank God the boat came earlier."
"We had the pleasure of meeting this young man right here," spoke up Mr. Claythorne.
Vera separated from her mother and said, "So you've met Philip."
"Philip?" asked Mr. Claythorne, raising an eyebrow.
Vera suddenly felt quite uncomfortable, but only said, "Yes. Philip Lombard. He told you his name, right?"
"Indeed I did, my dear," said Lombard, winking, causing Vera to blush.
"Are you flirting with her?" asked Mr. Claythorne, sounding rather annoyed.
"Well, your daughter is a very attractive young woman, sir," said Lombard. "It wouldn't be natural for a man to not flirt with her."
"Philip, stop," whispered Vera.
"So the two of you are in a relationship?" asked Mrs. Claythorne, looking and sounding amused.
Both Lombard and Vera quickly said, "No."
"I see," nodded Mrs. Claythorne. "Where's Evelyn?"
"She and Richard are picking up Derek as we speak," said Lombard. "So for now, it's just the four of us."
Vera sat down next to Lombard. For the first five minutes, neither of them said a word. The tension between them was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
Mrs. Claythorne noticed this, so she said, "I hope the two of you are at least getting along?"
"We are, mother," said Vera. "We're just friends."
"We agree on at least one thing," spoke up Lombard. "Gabrielle Turl's films are tripe. Especially Snow Upon the Desert."
"Really? I thought it was rather...charming," said Mrs. Claythorne.
"I found it to be much too scandalous," declared Mr. Claythorne. "Rape is an extremely traumatizing experience for a woman and should not be romanticized in any manner. I'm glad it was banned in America. Too bad it couldn't have been banned over here."
Mrs. Claythorne changed the subject: "The other day, I ran into Mrs. Hamilton. You remember her, Vera? She's the mother of that little boy you used to be governess for until he drowned in that tragic accident."
Vera got an uneasy feeling in her stomach and said, "How can I forget something like that—something that resulted in my going to Indian Island, all because that judge thought I was guilty?"
"It wasn't your fault, dear, and don't allow that maniac to allow you to think otherwise even for a second," said Mr. Claythorne firmly.
Mrs. Claythorne went on: "She had heard about what had happened on Indian Island and wanted to know if you were okay. I told her you're recovering little by little with each day, which I suppose is the truth if you're not afraid to be alone anymore."
"And...how is she doing?" asked Vera.
"She's putting her life back together after Cyril, piece by piece," replied Mrs. Claythorne. "It's been hard for her, but she's managing. Poor woman. I remember how awful I felt when your baby brother died at birth. At least she got to have a few years with him before he died."
Vera felt as though she was going to vomit, but was able to hold it down. She only said, "I'm glad to hear she's doing all right."
Lombard said nothing.
"Well, we have to go now," said Mrs. Claythorne as she and her husband began to head for the door. "You take care, dear."
"I will, mother," said Vera.
"Goodbye, Vera," said Mr. Claythorne as he and his wife left.
"Goodbye," said Vera right before closing the door behind them.
"Well!" said Lombard. "Your parents seem like perfectly nice folks. I doubt your father likes me, though."
"It takes him a while to warm up to any man Evelyn and I introduce to him," explained Vera. "I'm sure he'll come to like you in time." She paused before saying slowly, "You don't think that...they think there's anything...between us, do you?"
"Well, I like you very much, though I'd hardly say that would account for anything," shrugged Lombard.
Vera looked at him curiously. "I asked if you thought they thought anything was between us."
Lombard quickly realized his mistake and said, "Er, yes, that's—that's what I've been saying, that you're a good friend of mine, but that there's hardly anything between you and I."
His hand brushed against Vera's, prompting her to think, Hardly?