January 1999
Sue Ellen let the winter breeze hit her face and revered the tranquillity of her new home. Maplewood Avenue was one of the quieter suburbs in Dallas and resonated peace and serenity, a far cry from the chaotic pace of London.
A navy Porsche revved into the circular driveway with a triple-hoot of its horn and John Ross hopped out of the vehicle. At nineteen, he was the spit of his father and handsome as could be. "Welcome home, mama."
"Hi, sweetheart," Sue Ellen fell into her son's open arms. Several months had flown by since John Ross travelled across the Atlantic to offer emotional support in the immediate aftermath of her divorce from Don. "I'm so happy to see you."
"You too," John Ross removed the familiar pair of rose-tinted shades from his face and surveyed the stately build with mild approval. "How are you?" She looked much healthier than the day they bid one another farewell at Heathrow airport; her willowy frame leaner than ever before. John Ross had worried for her sanity and sobriety, and his relief was palpable when she finally decided to return stateside.
"I'm all the better now that you're here," his mother promised with the brightest smile. There were boxes stacked in every empty room of the house but it still felt warmer than the Kensington townhouse she had left behind.
"Back at you, mama," he affectionately reiterated the sentiment. "I'm sorry I can't stay and help you unpack. I have class in an hour but I wanted to drop by." John Ross had commenced his second year at the University of Texas the previous fall and proven himself to be quite the academic. "Uncle Bobby says hi. He would love to have you for dinner once you're settled. Ann too, she's real excited to finally meet you." Sue Ellen nodded her head enthusiastically. She and Bobby's new wife had emailed back and forth many times after Sue Ellen sent celebratory well-wishes and an exorbitant present in lieu of her attendance at their wedding ceremony. "Daddy also says hello," he reported cautiously.
Sue Ellen's pleasant smile didn't falter despite the reference to her ex-husband. "How is your father?" John Ross wordlessly responded in the affirmative, ever-wary of the mindfield that was his parents' relationship since their final separation a decade earlier. Her lips hovered above the steam from her coffee, "and your sister?"
"Eleanor, would you kindly step into my office?"
The abrupt request from her father via the intercom startled Eleanor, who dutifully leapt to her feet and strode across the lively platform to his office. She knocked with purpose and awaited his non-verbal permission to enter. "You wanted to see me, sir." She had finally persuaded her father to award her a part-time internship in her senior year of school and maintained every formality in order to prove herself worthy.
"Shut the door," J.R. demanded with a wave of his hand. Eleanor followed his instruction without hesitation and closed the door on nearby employees, all of whom observed her with a deep-seated resentment of the nepotism they perceived her to be the beneficiary of. "We missed you at breakfast," he blithely motioned for Eleanor to sit in the leather chair opposite his.
"I had a few errands to run," Eleanor nonchalantly replied, yet her shoulders hunched defensively.
"Then it wasn't a deliberate attempt to avoid a visit with your mother." He didn't bother to remove his visual focus from the mass of paperwork in front of him. Ever since John Ross announced Sue Ellen's intention to relocate to Dallas, Eleanor had behaved oddly.
She firmly shook her head and braced for her father's verbal whiplash. "No, sir."
"Good." J.R. coolly replied, as he continued to peruse the blueprints for Ewing Energies' newest offshore oil rig. "I plan to drive by later today. Would you care to join me?" Her silence spoke volumes and J.R. softened his manner, "Eleanor." The bond between mother and daughter had been detached for several months, most notably since Eleanor's refusal to accompany John Ross to London, but J.R. suspected the root cause ran much deeper. "Your brother's concerned about you, mine too."
"Uncle Bobby worries about everyone," Eleanor dismissively replied. Her father's youngest brother had been like a third parent, the eternal mediator between her and John Ross.
"What about John Ross?"
She shook her head, under the pretence of uncertainty. "I was about to invite mom to lunch before you called me in here. I wanted to let her settle in first, that's all."
J.R. leaned back into the curve of his chair and observed Eleanor with unwitting fascination. Of all his children, Eleanor was the one most like him; she was a relentless overachiever with limitless ambition, and she could deliver a bare-faced lie with the sweetest smile. "That so?" He decided to accept her expert diversion and redirected the conversation back to business. "Well, be sure to keep your diary free for Thursday. I've asked Sly to schedule lunch with Marv Anderson and Marilee Stone, see if we can't find some way to raise our prices back up. I'd like you to sit in on that meeting."
"Seriously - - I would love to," Eleanor held her composure as best she could, while she internally combusted. Her father had palmed her off to every department head in the company and she had endured formal tours of almost every extraction site in Texas, forced to sit on the sidelines for months while he entered into negotiations alone. "Thank you, daddy."
Sue Ellen carefully revived the Gien Pivoines Bleues vase from bubble-wrap suffocation and positioned it on the entry table in the foyer. It had been her mother's prized possession and Sue Ellen preserved the ornamental piece as conscientiously as Patricia had done.
"Just a minute," she called out to the chime of her doorbell and momentarily admired her handiwork. Almost all of the boxes in the kitchen had been flattened for disposal and the house finally started to feel like home. Behind the decorative pane on the front door, his broad shoulders were visible. There was a nervous flutter in her stomach; she hadn't seen him in the three years since Miss Ellie's funeral. Sue Ellen opened the door to discover his face cleverly hidden behind the bouquet of yellow roses.
She reached forward timidly to accept the gesture and his devious smile beamed at her. "Hello, darlin'."
Somehow those two little words always struck a chord within her.
