Trial & Error
Chapter 2 - part 1
Summers & Langley Publishing House Friday 14 April 16:00 Hours
On the other side of the city centre, as her two best friends enjoyed a long lunch, a very busy young woman sat at her desk trying to finish her phone call and attempting to prepare her own extremely late lunch at the same time.
Successful executive of a publishing company that she was however, the technical difficulties involved in talking and peeling a banana were too much for her multitasking skills. Something had to give. In this instance it was the banana. The unsuspecting fruit was suddenly involved in a highflying act that a seasoned trapeze artist would be proud of, but the landing sucked as it ended its short existence in an extreme velocity impact with the window.
Elizabeth Anne Summers, Buffy to her friends, stared forlornly past the smooshed banana slowly slinking down the windowpane, and out at the view from her executive corner office, her mind barely on the annoying voice on the other end of the Trans Atlantic telephone line.
As she listened to the voice of her so-called father droning on about projected sales figures and editing timescales, she thought back trying to pin point exactly when her life had ceased to be her own. * Because hey, the corner office wasn't her idea. The management job wasn't her idea. In fact being in LA wasn't her idea. So whose fabulous idea had all this been? Oh yeah. Daddy dearest. One Mr Hank Summers, Executive Director and co-owner of Summers & Langley Publishing House, LA, California. Successful businessman, noted member of the LA society scene and charitable benefactor. *
Buffy had her own descriptions for him. Adulterer, blackmailer, absentee father, pathetic excuse for a human being. the list was longer, and got progressively less flattering as it continued. She was not in any remote way fond of the man; his past and present trespasses against her loved ones weighed too heavily against him.
* Charity sure as hell doesn't start at home for Hank Summers. *
The slim, short blonde mused on the events three and a half years ago that had led her to be stuck in this office, doing a job she hated and living her life according the Word of Hank.'
Dawn!" Buffy shouted up the stairs trying to catch her thirteen-year- old sister's attention over the depressing music blaring from her bedroom.
"Dawn!"
The music was abruptly cut off and a voice, scratchy from crying, came down from the second floor. "What?"
Buffy resisted the urge to cry herself on hearing the pain in Dawn's voice. She didn't have the luxury of tears right now, not when there was so much to do and to be sorted.
"Willow will be here in ten minutes. Do you have everything packed that you'll need this weekend?"
Buffy heard the bedroom door open and watched as her sister descended the stairs, every move she made screaming 'sulk'.
"Why do you have to go?"
"Dawnie." She tried placating her as she ushered them over to the couch and sat them both down. "If I can't get Hank to help us were going to lose the house."
"But we've got the money he sends me, we can use that!" Dawn added excitedly.
She looked so proud to have found a solution that Buffy hated having to burst her bubble. "I know, and I appreciate you wanting to help. But, Dawnie, the money Hank sends you won't cover the cost of this week's groceries, let alone pay four months worth of mortgage arrears."
"What about Mom's medical insurance or the money from the sale of the gallery? That can't all have gone?"
"No it hasn't." Buffy admitted realizing she'd have to tell Dawn about Mom's will.
"Well then let's use that," stated Dawn, as if Buffy was stupid for not thinking of it.
"Listen to me Dawnie. We can't."
"Why not? There has to be enough left over from the medical bills to pay the mortgage and the bills..."
Buffy interrupted "No, Dawnie. We can't." At the petulant face she was presented with she explained further. "Mom's will won't let us use any of the money. You know how adamant she was about our education?" At the agreeing nod she continued. " Well, Mom wanted us to able to have that opportunity so she put the proceeds from selling the gallery into a trust fund for both of us."
"But that's great!"
"No. No it isn't. I've spoken to the executors and there's a catch. We can use the money." As Dawns face brightened she continued, ".but only for education. Not for a mortgage, or food, or household bills. We can only use it for tuition fees and living expenses."
"So, you're at college living in the dorms. That's fine."
Buffy was getting exasperated. "No I'm not. Dawn I gave up college and the dorm room. Remember me moving back in? The 'source of your joy'? I can't go back to college until next semester and by then the house will have been taken. You couldn't live on your own anyway. Do you want to stay with Hank, leave your school, your friends?"
Dawn shook her head furiously
"Then I need do this. I have to go."
Dawn's face fell scrunched up and her tears begin to fall again. "I hate Mom!" she cried in anger and hurt. "How could she do this Buffy? How could she leave us like this? It isn't fair. It isn't. She shouldn't have died. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!" she crumpled and buried her face into Buffy's lap.
Buffy felt the tears she'd been holding back at her mother's death prick in her eyes as she rocked her little sister, but wouldn't allow them to fall. She was determined to stay strong for Dawn. She was upset at her words but understood that they were said out of grief. As Dawn's crying began to calm she heard a muffled statement. "I want to go too."
Buffy gathered her into a hug then pulled back to look into her face. She gently smoothed her sister's lustrous hair. "I know you do Dawnie. But I don't know where or when I'm going to be able to get to him, or where I'm going to be staying. I need to know you're going to be okay. Willow has strict instructions to ply you with sugary goodness and let you stay up late. Alright?"
Dawn nodded sullenly. "How long will you be gone?"
"I don't know. But I'll phone as soon as I get there and every evening until I get back." She promised. "Now go and pack."
Dawn stood and stomped back up the stairs, more for show than with any lingering anger at being left behind.
Buffy had been unable to get in to see the Executive Director of Summers Langley. And had ended up accosting him on his way out of the building on the third evening of her stay in LA.
"Hank. Hank Summers!"
The man was startled at hearing his name called out quite so loudly. He turned to see the young, attractive blonde woman running towards him.
"Hank. I need to talk to you."
"I only talk to authors that have a scheduled appointment." He looked her up and down then turned tersely to leave. "So I suggest you make one."
Buffy shook her head in amazement. * Okay so I wasn't exactly expecting to be met with open arms* But the fact her own father didn't recognise her, only reinforced her low opinion of him.
"I'm not an author."
"Well then don't waste my time." Hank started to walk off.
"Dad. It's me! Buffy."
Hank halted in his attempt to head towards his waiting car and turned, disbelievingly, to the woman now standing before him.
"I hardly think so. Elizabeth is plain, overweight, wears glasses and has the fashion sense of a nun." He a gave the petite beauty a quick once over, "and you, my lovely lady, are none of these things." He added in what Buffy could only presume was supposed to be his suave voice.
All it did was wig her out.
Buffy felt her stomach drop at the hurtful comments. The fact that the description of her had been true wasn't the issue, but that her own father would says those things about her to a person that he'd met on the street affected her a lot. She knew her father had little regard for her and the rest of the 'family' he'd left behind after his adultery had forced the divorce, but he owed them big time and now he was going to pay up.
"Hank. I'm Elizabeth Anne Summers and if you don't talk to me I will personally annoy and stalk you until you listen to me!"
At the last exclamation Hank had seen and recognised the accompanying foot stamp.
"So, you are Buffy. What do you want?"
"Mom died." Said Buffy watching for any kind of reaction on her father's face.
"Yes I heard. So what do you want?" Asked Hank indifferently.
Buffy's fists clenched and unclenched in a calculated effort to control the fury building in her following probably the most callous dismissal of a persons passing she had ever heard. That was it? The mother of his children dies of a painful debilitating cancer and he just brushes it off! She'd thought that maybe he'd had a valid excuse for not responding to the calls she'd made during Joyce's illness, or for not coming to the funeral. His secretary had said he'd been in Spain after all. But now Buffy had no doubts as to the nature of Hank Summers. The only problem was that she really did need his help financially. She took a deep cleansing breath and closed her eyes trying to refocus her anger into concentrating on the reason for approaching him. When she felt she finally had the urge to slap some semblance of humanity into him under control, she tried a different tack.
"Look Hank. You know I wouldn't be here unless it was completely necessary. But the Bank is a week away from repossessing the house. Mom's insurance money is gone and."
"And what? You thought you'd come here and trick me out of some money!"
"Trick?" Okay leaving furious heading directly for outraged. "Trick! There's no trick. We need help. If you don't help us Dawnie will be living in a cardboard box by the end of the month. Is that what you want?"
"What I want is to be left alone. Without every Tom, Dick or Harry thinking that the world owes them. I bought you up better than that. "
Buffy just couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You didn't bring me up at all. Mom did!"
"Well that explains things. Your mother always was a pushover. Look at that silly gallery she ran. Hell bent on helping under privileged artists. Please, most of them were graffiti artists. I even remember she let you show a piece or two of your so-called sculptures. Really, that woman was far too indulgent of you."
*Okay so the cleansing breath and focusing thing isn't going to work this time. Think of Dawn. You're doing this for Dawn. As satisfying as hitting him maybe he'll probably not be willing to help after you break his nose.*
Regardless of her inner voice she couldn't help a threatening step toward the arrogant man she had the misfortune to be related to. "How dare you. Mom was a wonderful woman who actually took peoples thoughts and feelings into consideration while obviously you."
"Look young lady," Hanks interrupted in his most condescending tone. "I have people sending begging letters day in and day out. My charitable donations are made for this financial year. Understood?" He turned and continued his approach to the waiting car.
"Charitable donations? We are your family!" she screamed as she followed him determined to be heard.
Hank was beginning to get annoyed with this situation. He had an important meeting to attend and this spectacle in the street was starting to draw attention to them. He took her arm and dragged her to the car. Buffy was so surprised she didn't react even when the car doors locked and she was sitting next to Hank in the back seat. Irritably Hank turned towards his daughter.
"You know what. You want money? Get a job. You've graduated high school it's not like you're doing anything else."
"I'm in college."
"College? Doing what? Oh Elizabeth not that terrible crap you pass off as art?"
"I'm in my second year Art Studies & Business Management. Hey, you might have known this if you had shown an interest in any of us."
"Well you're hardly going to get anywhere with a degree like that, now are you?"
Buffy was becoming so livid words were beginning to fail her. Her brain fluttered around trying to think of a way, other than killing him and inheriting his money, to convince him to help them out. Hey maybe going to the press with his attitude would make him cough up. It's not like she was asking for perpetual handouts and the great society name and donator who couldn't help out his own family would have to make a good story for them. Wouldn't it?
She looked up and instantly became suspicious of the calculating glint in his eye as he gave her a penetrating look. What the hell was he up to?
"Tell you what. You work here for me."
"Huh?" So not expecting that.
"You've got some business experience and you've brushed up quite well. I'll make you a deal. I'll pay the arrears on the house, and the out standing bills. For which you will repay me. You and Dawn will move to LA and you'll work for me."
"Why does that all sound a little too good to be true?"
"Probably because it is. Buffy, I've got plans and you my little darling are going to make them happen." Hank must have picked up on her continuing incredulity and reluctance because he continued. "Tell you what. You're doing this for Dawn right? How about I make her your legal ward? I'll instruct my lawyers to relinquish all rights as her guardian. She'll be your responsibility."
Buffy sat there and seriously thought about the offer. She needed the money badly to keep a roof over Dawn's head. But they'd both have to move to LA, give up the house, friends, her college degree. She'd have to put her ambition to re-open the Joyce Summers Gallery on hold and what about that person waiting for her in England, what was she going to do about him? Then of course there was the alternative. The Bank would reclaim the house and she and Dawnie would end up destitute and worst of all Dawn would be Hank's responsibility. God knows what sort of 'plans' he'd use her for. Not much of a choice was there? At least this way Dawn would be okay, and she had let so many people down already. There was only one option.
Hank pressed her for an answer. "What do you say?"
Buffy didn't feel the slightest bit happy about this but."Okay, but on one condition. You make my guardianship legal and irreversible. You never try to get Dawnie back, and you never rope her into any of these 'plans' of yours. Deal?"
"Deal."
* Yeah, really not happy with that smug grin, * thought Buffy as she exited the car and watched it drive away, trying to think of a way to break the news to Dawn.
Chapter 2 - Part 2
Buffy was still staring out of the window when the harsh tones of her father's voice rang through the telephone receiver across the Atlantic Ocean. "Beth, are you listening? Beth? Beth Summers answer me right now. Bet."
Buffy winced at the use of that name. Only one other person in her life other than Hank had called her Beth, and Hank's insistence of hijacking that precious nickname got her hackles rising.
"Yes, I'm here. I hear you. Shelly says the final draft for Jackson will be ready on the projected due date. The manuscripts for the Attling Memoirs will be here on Monday and Carlos Martin has been tracked down to add the amendments Bernice recommended to his work. Everything's fine," she reassured him.
"It had better be Beth. I'll be back on Friday. I've extended my stay to allow me to attend to some personal business."
In the background Buffy could hear the 'personal business' complain in a high-pitched feminine whine that room service was late, and why couldn't they have some of the Beluga Darling?'
"Make sure you don't forget the charity ball tonight."
Buffy sighed, Hank had only reminded her twice a day for the two weeks he had been in London on 'business' that the O' Connors' annual charity ball was tonight. She was amazed that he actually trusted her to do her job considering the lack of faith he showed in her remembering the simplest things. Of course if he hadn't reminded her she could have used it as an excuse to not go. No such luck.
"Yes Hank I remember. Angel's picking me up at eight. So if you excuse me I've got several more calls to make before I need to head home."
Buffy was fervently hoping Hank would take the hint and let her go. She did have an amazingly large pile of work to do, but she wasn't going to finish it tonight. If he would just get off the line she could call Dawn, revise some course-work and go home and get a badly needed shower before Angel picked her up.
"Fine, I'll call tomorrow to see how the ball went. Bye Beth, be good. Make me proud baby."
Buffy had to resist the urge to heave. "Goodbye Hank." With a relieved sigh she hung up the receiver, refusing point blank to refer to that ass- hole as Dad.
With a final look out of the window Buffy stood, rolled her shoulders to try and ease the tension in her body and grabbed a handful of tissues from the caddy on the desk. She could have left the banana massacre for the cleaning shift, but had very little interest in providing speculation for gossip involving her and a mushed banana.
Although she had proven herself in the job she had been forced into, there was still the lingering cloud of 'Daddy girl privilege ' that she hadn't been able to overcome. Plus the cleaners had enough work to do without strange fruit occurrences. After wiping down the window and dumping the used tissues in the trash, she reached for the phone. Dawn would be at home about now, if only briefly, before her hectic social life lured her out again.
Across the Atlantic a very smug Hank Summers turned to watch the attractive blonde woman in his suite fiddle with the tray that Room Service had finally delivered, and thought on his scheming.
He had not got to his current position in life by ignoring opportunities. When Buffy had confronted him at his offices three years ago, he had sensed an opportunity for personal and professional advantage that was too good to pass up. He had been remarkably surprised that the attractive young woman who had accosted him outside his offices was his eldest daughter. His frumpy, overachieving, art-loving lump of a daughter had become a desirable woman, and therefore an asset to his schemes.
Hank Summers had aspirations and Buffy was helping him reach them. Them, being the O'Connor's. The O' Connor's were a prominent and influential family in the same publishing business as Hank. They had an eligible son, Angel with the reputation of being charming, if not faithful. Hank could see dollar signs and the upper echelons of LA society beckoning with the merger of their businesses, and their offspring and Buffy had provided the means.
He had offered Buffy a job. She would work for the money to support herself and her sister and she would be amenable to attending the social functions he deemed appropriate. the job had paid more than anything else a young woman with an incomplete education could hope to find. He had also sweetened the pot by instructing his lawyers to relinquish all responsibility for Dawn to Buffy. Now if she would just get Angel O'Connor to pop the question, his place in society and business would be secured. But the two of them were dithering about and he was pretty much fed up with it. Things were going to have to change and he'd see to it when he got back. In the meantime he had another problem to wrestle with as he grabbed his latest paramour in a fumbling embrace.
Dawn was just putting her key in the front door lock when she heard the phone ringing. On the fifth ring, just before the answer machine was about to pick up, the breathless girl managed to answer. "Hello."
"Hey Dawnie it's me."
"Hey Buffy, how's the hellhole?"
"The hellhole is about to shut down for the day. I just talked to the devil incarnate in London, he's not coming back for another week so I hope the "moaning money" fund was filled before his departure."
"Absolutely. Would I let Daddy dearest depart our shores without suitable monetary recompense?" Dawn smiled down the phone in her best British accent. "You about ready to sneak home?"
"I'm gonna get a few chapters read, then I'll be back. Did you get my dress?"
There was a complete absence of sound from the person on the end of the phone. "Dawn? My dress? The drycleaners? Any of this ringing a bell?"
"Oh God Buffy I completely forgot!"
She could hear her sister sigh.
"Did you forget the grocery shop too?"
"I'm so sorry Buffy, I had dance class then we went to the movies and Jay needed a new pair of sunglasses so we went to the Mall." Dawn trailed off annoyed at herself.
Oh she had screwed up big time. Buffy was relying on her more and more to do some of these things and she'd blown it. So much for being a responsible teen with an eye on a driving permit. Buffy had so little time for herself these days, let alone a social life that wasn't dictated to her by Hank. She hadn't even managed to see Willow and Xander in the last week, and the last time Buffy had dated anyone other than Angel, had been two years ago with the inexcusable Parker Abram's. After a rocky start in LA Dawn had settled down well and managed to make new friends. Her disgust at her father had induced her to guilt as much cash from him while she remotely had the chance. She was good. Hank was particularly defenceless against the persistent and annoying whining that had plagued Buffy so much in the first few teenaged years of Dawn's life. She had offered to pass the money, well at least some of it, into the household funds, but Buffy had refused. She would take the money she earned at work for them but she refused to have Hank's guilt money, she was actually still amazed that he had any guilt. Dawn tried to insist, but they compromised on the "moaning money", as it was dubbed, to be for Dawn's phone and luxury extras, like her dancing lessons.
Dawn agreed but unknown to Buffy she also put some away into a savings account. She knew about her sister's ambition for the art gallery, and when the time came for funding it she wanted to be able to be a part of it and help out. She missed her mother and this felt like a way to be close to her and help do something for her sister. Dawn was well aware of the sacrifices Buffy had made to ensure her a home and a chance of a life away from her fathers clutches. When Buffy had told her of the move to LA she had still had had the fantasy of her glamorous absentee father in her mind, but one meeting was sufficient to make her drop those dreams and face the reality of her father's character.
"It's fine Dawn. These sort of things aren't your problem they're mine. I'll leave now and pick these thing's up on my way home."
Dawn was upset. She could take being shouted at, but when Buffy got quiet and resigned she worried. She hated the semi annual brood fest that Buffy experienced and hoped this incident wouldn't set her off early.
She knew how much she owed to Buffy and how hard she worked. Buffy needed any extra time she had to study. She was so determined to gain her degree. The September after their mother's death Buffy had simply stopped functioning. It was as if everything she had worked for, achieved, meant nothing to her now. She wouldn't eat, go to work or even talk to her friends. She would barely sleep even.
On one occasion Dawn had snuck into her room to check on her, to find Buffy finally passed out in exhaustion over a pile of well-worn letters and photographs of a plump blonde lady and a baby. The lady she had recognised as Buffy's long time pen pal Tara. Before she'd been able to sneak a peak at the letters' contents Buffy had begun to stir and Dawn had beaten a hasty retreat to make an overdue telephone call to Xander and Willow.
Dawn would have attributed this depression to final acceptance of Joyce's death but it had happened over ten months later. Buffy's fugue state lasted four days before she began to snap out of it. She changed her major from Art Studies and Business Management to Fine Art with a harder emphasis on the business side. She enrolled for night courses and became determined to earn her degree even if, working, taking care of her and dating Angel took up most of her time. Dawn had been surprised at the abrupt turn around and also Buffy's new degree major. For as long as she could remember Buffy had lived and breathed art, she was an extremely talented sculptress, but after that September when Buffy's focus returned full strength it went not into creating her own pieces but to carrying on her mother's work.
"I am sorry."
"I know Dawnie."
She heard Buffy take a deep cleansing breath and move to change the subject. "So, what are you doing this evening?"
"I'm spending the night at Susanne's. The number's on the fridge and I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Okay?" Dawn briefly considered asking to stay home alone, but with her screw up she didn't dare.
"That's fine. You have a great night okay?"
"Okay. You have a good time too. Say hi to Angel for me."
"Will do sweetie. Bye."
When she hung up Dawn took a good look around the home Buffy had made for them. The proceeds from the sale of the family home, at least what was left after the 'loan' to Hank had been repaid, were placed into an investment fund. They were able to afford a small but nicely appointed house. Their white knight at that time had been Xander, he'd been moved to LA to train for his new construction job, and with his help the little house quickly became a home. Hank, in an attempt to gain more control over their lives had offered an up market apartment but Buffy didn't want to be that indebted to him.
* Time for a little bit of grovelling * she decided as she entered the kitchen and noticed the remnants of breakfast.
At Dawn's farewell Buffy pressed call end then called down to the office reception desk to ask for a taxicab. The duty desk guard Pauly, sniggered good-naturedly at her regular request and she once again vowed that the driving permit that had eluded her since high school Drivers Ed would be hers. *Oh. Who was she kidding? Her driving was frightening. It even frightened her. * She was a lifetime pedestrian or a passenger, and since absolutely no one in LA walked that left passenger. She hated being so dependent on others and it restricted her freedom.
She packed up her bag, locked up her office and headed to the elevator to wait for the cab in the pretty little atrium off Reception. As she entered the elevator she pressed the button for the first floor.
While the car descended Buffy mentally ran the grocery list through her head * Bread, salad, milk low fat, cheese low fat, Choco Pops for Dawn, pasta, cucumber for the bags under my eyes.... * she was so engrossed that when the lift doors opened she automatically walked out without realising she hadn't yet reached her destination. *.... apples, bananas, okay maybe not a good choice after today, washing liquid...*
A high-pitched burst of childish laughter stopped her in her tracks. As the perpetrator of the noise came bundling excitedly around the corner of the corridor, chased by her laughing father, Buffy froze, realising where she was just as the 5-year-old girl bumped into her. She wasn't at Reception. She was at the sixth floor company crèche.
"Whoops, sorry lady."
Buffy looked down and into the upturned face of Riley Finn's daughter, Rosie. The little girl was adorable with sandy hair in high bunches, blue eyes, and most notably her chubby arms, legs and previously pink dress covered in blue paint. She mentally shook herself as she knelt down to Rosie's eye level.
"It's ok honey. Did you hurt yourself?"
"Nope, but if Daddy catches me I have ta go home"
"Don't you want to go home, sweetie?" Buffy asked as she glanced upwards to meet Riley's gaze as he caught up to his errant child.
"Oh yes. But..." Rosie ducked her head conspiratorially and whispered " ... I still wanna be blue".
Buffy looked back up at Riley and they shared a small chuckle.
Riley crouched down, grasped Rosie around her waist and stood to his full impressive height. "Come on Munchkin lets go get you some dinner".
"'Bye Buffy, sorry about the moving violation."
Buffy smiled "Not to worry. Have a good weekend".
"Oh we will" started Rosie, " we gonna go to the Zoo an I'm gonna get a baboon..."
"A balloon, honey," corrected her father.
". an a ice-cream, an a stuffed toy...and we're gonna..." Rosie's voice trailed off as she and Riley entered the elevator and the door closed.
*Damn. * Buffy swore as realised she'd have to wait for the next car.
She glanced down the corridor, her interest piqued by the unmistakable sounds of children laughing and clapping and talking. Unconsciously her feet made the decision to go take a look. Buffy turned the corridor corner to be greeted by the sight of the company crèche empting for the day.
'Any employee of Summer & Langdon is eligible for free company childcare' insisted Hank Summers.
Buffy would've been more impressed with this declaration if she hadn't known he had had this innovation leaked all over the press to improve his social and charitable standing. However, if it meant parents could work and still be able to assure the care of their children Buffy was all for it, however it happened.
Buffy leant against the full-length window near the crèche entrance and watched the children getting ready to go home. Parents battled to dress little tired bodies, exhausted from their active play, into their overcoats. Gamely juggling armfuls of strange assorted Dali-like masterpieces of junk models, finger paintings, and pasta collages until finally they began dragging their children away from their playmates with the fading voices of " Mommy looky what I made."; "Stanley said I had cooties..."; " Don't wanna go..." echoing down the corridor.
If anyone had had time to look up at the woman watching they wouldn't have seen a successful twenty-five year old businesswoman. They would have seen a young, wistful, sad girl with eyes darkened and clouded in thought.
In the far corner by the nursery train set, a small boy of about six years old by Buffy's reckoning, with unruly dark blonde curls, had caught her eye. He was completely entranced with the engines, the track, the bridges and signals. He showed no interest in being shuffled into his coat by the crèche worker hovering over him. He just sat and played, occasionally shifting position sideways when he'd moved the trains to the extent of his short reach.
Buffy found herself completely enthralled in watching his little figure link up the trains, push them round the track and pull them into the station, presumably so imaginary passengers could get off and on. All the while his lips moved as if providing dialogue for the pretend people or maybe a running narrative for the scene.
As the last of the readied children left, Buffy wondered where his mother or father was. "Why would any one leave their child waiting?" Buffy kicked herself, she was the last person qualified to make judgements on parenting choices.
With one last glance at the little boy, and a fervent wish that he wouldn't be left there too long, Buffy headed towards the lift attempting to shift all other thoughts from her mind to contemplation of running her errands, the upcoming ball and her required attendance with the handsome Angel O'Connor.
Chapter 2 - part 1
Summers & Langley Publishing House Friday 14 April 16:00 Hours
On the other side of the city centre, as her two best friends enjoyed a long lunch, a very busy young woman sat at her desk trying to finish her phone call and attempting to prepare her own extremely late lunch at the same time.
Successful executive of a publishing company that she was however, the technical difficulties involved in talking and peeling a banana were too much for her multitasking skills. Something had to give. In this instance it was the banana. The unsuspecting fruit was suddenly involved in a highflying act that a seasoned trapeze artist would be proud of, but the landing sucked as it ended its short existence in an extreme velocity impact with the window.
Elizabeth Anne Summers, Buffy to her friends, stared forlornly past the smooshed banana slowly slinking down the windowpane, and out at the view from her executive corner office, her mind barely on the annoying voice on the other end of the Trans Atlantic telephone line.
As she listened to the voice of her so-called father droning on about projected sales figures and editing timescales, she thought back trying to pin point exactly when her life had ceased to be her own. * Because hey, the corner office wasn't her idea. The management job wasn't her idea. In fact being in LA wasn't her idea. So whose fabulous idea had all this been? Oh yeah. Daddy dearest. One Mr Hank Summers, Executive Director and co-owner of Summers & Langley Publishing House, LA, California. Successful businessman, noted member of the LA society scene and charitable benefactor. *
Buffy had her own descriptions for him. Adulterer, blackmailer, absentee father, pathetic excuse for a human being. the list was longer, and got progressively less flattering as it continued. She was not in any remote way fond of the man; his past and present trespasses against her loved ones weighed too heavily against him.
* Charity sure as hell doesn't start at home for Hank Summers. *
The slim, short blonde mused on the events three and a half years ago that had led her to be stuck in this office, doing a job she hated and living her life according the Word of Hank.'
Dawn!" Buffy shouted up the stairs trying to catch her thirteen-year- old sister's attention over the depressing music blaring from her bedroom.
"Dawn!"
The music was abruptly cut off and a voice, scratchy from crying, came down from the second floor. "What?"
Buffy resisted the urge to cry herself on hearing the pain in Dawn's voice. She didn't have the luxury of tears right now, not when there was so much to do and to be sorted.
"Willow will be here in ten minutes. Do you have everything packed that you'll need this weekend?"
Buffy heard the bedroom door open and watched as her sister descended the stairs, every move she made screaming 'sulk'.
"Why do you have to go?"
"Dawnie." She tried placating her as she ushered them over to the couch and sat them both down. "If I can't get Hank to help us were going to lose the house."
"But we've got the money he sends me, we can use that!" Dawn added excitedly.
She looked so proud to have found a solution that Buffy hated having to burst her bubble. "I know, and I appreciate you wanting to help. But, Dawnie, the money Hank sends you won't cover the cost of this week's groceries, let alone pay four months worth of mortgage arrears."
"What about Mom's medical insurance or the money from the sale of the gallery? That can't all have gone?"
"No it hasn't." Buffy admitted realizing she'd have to tell Dawn about Mom's will.
"Well then let's use that," stated Dawn, as if Buffy was stupid for not thinking of it.
"Listen to me Dawnie. We can't."
"Why not? There has to be enough left over from the medical bills to pay the mortgage and the bills..."
Buffy interrupted "No, Dawnie. We can't." At the petulant face she was presented with she explained further. "Mom's will won't let us use any of the money. You know how adamant she was about our education?" At the agreeing nod she continued. " Well, Mom wanted us to able to have that opportunity so she put the proceeds from selling the gallery into a trust fund for both of us."
"But that's great!"
"No. No it isn't. I've spoken to the executors and there's a catch. We can use the money." As Dawns face brightened she continued, ".but only for education. Not for a mortgage, or food, or household bills. We can only use it for tuition fees and living expenses."
"So, you're at college living in the dorms. That's fine."
Buffy was getting exasperated. "No I'm not. Dawn I gave up college and the dorm room. Remember me moving back in? The 'source of your joy'? I can't go back to college until next semester and by then the house will have been taken. You couldn't live on your own anyway. Do you want to stay with Hank, leave your school, your friends?"
Dawn shook her head furiously
"Then I need do this. I have to go."
Dawn's face fell scrunched up and her tears begin to fall again. "I hate Mom!" she cried in anger and hurt. "How could she do this Buffy? How could she leave us like this? It isn't fair. It isn't. She shouldn't have died. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!" she crumpled and buried her face into Buffy's lap.
Buffy felt the tears she'd been holding back at her mother's death prick in her eyes as she rocked her little sister, but wouldn't allow them to fall. She was determined to stay strong for Dawn. She was upset at her words but understood that they were said out of grief. As Dawn's crying began to calm she heard a muffled statement. "I want to go too."
Buffy gathered her into a hug then pulled back to look into her face. She gently smoothed her sister's lustrous hair. "I know you do Dawnie. But I don't know where or when I'm going to be able to get to him, or where I'm going to be staying. I need to know you're going to be okay. Willow has strict instructions to ply you with sugary goodness and let you stay up late. Alright?"
Dawn nodded sullenly. "How long will you be gone?"
"I don't know. But I'll phone as soon as I get there and every evening until I get back." She promised. "Now go and pack."
Dawn stood and stomped back up the stairs, more for show than with any lingering anger at being left behind.
Buffy had been unable to get in to see the Executive Director of Summers Langley. And had ended up accosting him on his way out of the building on the third evening of her stay in LA.
"Hank. Hank Summers!"
The man was startled at hearing his name called out quite so loudly. He turned to see the young, attractive blonde woman running towards him.
"Hank. I need to talk to you."
"I only talk to authors that have a scheduled appointment." He looked her up and down then turned tersely to leave. "So I suggest you make one."
Buffy shook her head in amazement. * Okay so I wasn't exactly expecting to be met with open arms* But the fact her own father didn't recognise her, only reinforced her low opinion of him.
"I'm not an author."
"Well then don't waste my time." Hank started to walk off.
"Dad. It's me! Buffy."
Hank halted in his attempt to head towards his waiting car and turned, disbelievingly, to the woman now standing before him.
"I hardly think so. Elizabeth is plain, overweight, wears glasses and has the fashion sense of a nun." He a gave the petite beauty a quick once over, "and you, my lovely lady, are none of these things." He added in what Buffy could only presume was supposed to be his suave voice.
All it did was wig her out.
Buffy felt her stomach drop at the hurtful comments. The fact that the description of her had been true wasn't the issue, but that her own father would says those things about her to a person that he'd met on the street affected her a lot. She knew her father had little regard for her and the rest of the 'family' he'd left behind after his adultery had forced the divorce, but he owed them big time and now he was going to pay up.
"Hank. I'm Elizabeth Anne Summers and if you don't talk to me I will personally annoy and stalk you until you listen to me!"
At the last exclamation Hank had seen and recognised the accompanying foot stamp.
"So, you are Buffy. What do you want?"
"Mom died." Said Buffy watching for any kind of reaction on her father's face.
"Yes I heard. So what do you want?" Asked Hank indifferently.
Buffy's fists clenched and unclenched in a calculated effort to control the fury building in her following probably the most callous dismissal of a persons passing she had ever heard. That was it? The mother of his children dies of a painful debilitating cancer and he just brushes it off! She'd thought that maybe he'd had a valid excuse for not responding to the calls she'd made during Joyce's illness, or for not coming to the funeral. His secretary had said he'd been in Spain after all. But now Buffy had no doubts as to the nature of Hank Summers. The only problem was that she really did need his help financially. She took a deep cleansing breath and closed her eyes trying to refocus her anger into concentrating on the reason for approaching him. When she felt she finally had the urge to slap some semblance of humanity into him under control, she tried a different tack.
"Look Hank. You know I wouldn't be here unless it was completely necessary. But the Bank is a week away from repossessing the house. Mom's insurance money is gone and."
"And what? You thought you'd come here and trick me out of some money!"
"Trick?" Okay leaving furious heading directly for outraged. "Trick! There's no trick. We need help. If you don't help us Dawnie will be living in a cardboard box by the end of the month. Is that what you want?"
"What I want is to be left alone. Without every Tom, Dick or Harry thinking that the world owes them. I bought you up better than that. "
Buffy just couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You didn't bring me up at all. Mom did!"
"Well that explains things. Your mother always was a pushover. Look at that silly gallery she ran. Hell bent on helping under privileged artists. Please, most of them were graffiti artists. I even remember she let you show a piece or two of your so-called sculptures. Really, that woman was far too indulgent of you."
*Okay so the cleansing breath and focusing thing isn't going to work this time. Think of Dawn. You're doing this for Dawn. As satisfying as hitting him maybe he'll probably not be willing to help after you break his nose.*
Regardless of her inner voice she couldn't help a threatening step toward the arrogant man she had the misfortune to be related to. "How dare you. Mom was a wonderful woman who actually took peoples thoughts and feelings into consideration while obviously you."
"Look young lady," Hanks interrupted in his most condescending tone. "I have people sending begging letters day in and day out. My charitable donations are made for this financial year. Understood?" He turned and continued his approach to the waiting car.
"Charitable donations? We are your family!" she screamed as she followed him determined to be heard.
Hank was beginning to get annoyed with this situation. He had an important meeting to attend and this spectacle in the street was starting to draw attention to them. He took her arm and dragged her to the car. Buffy was so surprised she didn't react even when the car doors locked and she was sitting next to Hank in the back seat. Irritably Hank turned towards his daughter.
"You know what. You want money? Get a job. You've graduated high school it's not like you're doing anything else."
"I'm in college."
"College? Doing what? Oh Elizabeth not that terrible crap you pass off as art?"
"I'm in my second year Art Studies & Business Management. Hey, you might have known this if you had shown an interest in any of us."
"Well you're hardly going to get anywhere with a degree like that, now are you?"
Buffy was becoming so livid words were beginning to fail her. Her brain fluttered around trying to think of a way, other than killing him and inheriting his money, to convince him to help them out. Hey maybe going to the press with his attitude would make him cough up. It's not like she was asking for perpetual handouts and the great society name and donator who couldn't help out his own family would have to make a good story for them. Wouldn't it?
She looked up and instantly became suspicious of the calculating glint in his eye as he gave her a penetrating look. What the hell was he up to?
"Tell you what. You work here for me."
"Huh?" So not expecting that.
"You've got some business experience and you've brushed up quite well. I'll make you a deal. I'll pay the arrears on the house, and the out standing bills. For which you will repay me. You and Dawn will move to LA and you'll work for me."
"Why does that all sound a little too good to be true?"
"Probably because it is. Buffy, I've got plans and you my little darling are going to make them happen." Hank must have picked up on her continuing incredulity and reluctance because he continued. "Tell you what. You're doing this for Dawn right? How about I make her your legal ward? I'll instruct my lawyers to relinquish all rights as her guardian. She'll be your responsibility."
Buffy sat there and seriously thought about the offer. She needed the money badly to keep a roof over Dawn's head. But they'd both have to move to LA, give up the house, friends, her college degree. She'd have to put her ambition to re-open the Joyce Summers Gallery on hold and what about that person waiting for her in England, what was she going to do about him? Then of course there was the alternative. The Bank would reclaim the house and she and Dawnie would end up destitute and worst of all Dawn would be Hank's responsibility. God knows what sort of 'plans' he'd use her for. Not much of a choice was there? At least this way Dawn would be okay, and she had let so many people down already. There was only one option.
Hank pressed her for an answer. "What do you say?"
Buffy didn't feel the slightest bit happy about this but."Okay, but on one condition. You make my guardianship legal and irreversible. You never try to get Dawnie back, and you never rope her into any of these 'plans' of yours. Deal?"
"Deal."
* Yeah, really not happy with that smug grin, * thought Buffy as she exited the car and watched it drive away, trying to think of a way to break the news to Dawn.
Chapter 2 - Part 2
Buffy was still staring out of the window when the harsh tones of her father's voice rang through the telephone receiver across the Atlantic Ocean. "Beth, are you listening? Beth? Beth Summers answer me right now. Bet."
Buffy winced at the use of that name. Only one other person in her life other than Hank had called her Beth, and Hank's insistence of hijacking that precious nickname got her hackles rising.
"Yes, I'm here. I hear you. Shelly says the final draft for Jackson will be ready on the projected due date. The manuscripts for the Attling Memoirs will be here on Monday and Carlos Martin has been tracked down to add the amendments Bernice recommended to his work. Everything's fine," she reassured him.
"It had better be Beth. I'll be back on Friday. I've extended my stay to allow me to attend to some personal business."
In the background Buffy could hear the 'personal business' complain in a high-pitched feminine whine that room service was late, and why couldn't they have some of the Beluga Darling?'
"Make sure you don't forget the charity ball tonight."
Buffy sighed, Hank had only reminded her twice a day for the two weeks he had been in London on 'business' that the O' Connors' annual charity ball was tonight. She was amazed that he actually trusted her to do her job considering the lack of faith he showed in her remembering the simplest things. Of course if he hadn't reminded her she could have used it as an excuse to not go. No such luck.
"Yes Hank I remember. Angel's picking me up at eight. So if you excuse me I've got several more calls to make before I need to head home."
Buffy was fervently hoping Hank would take the hint and let her go. She did have an amazingly large pile of work to do, but she wasn't going to finish it tonight. If he would just get off the line she could call Dawn, revise some course-work and go home and get a badly needed shower before Angel picked her up.
"Fine, I'll call tomorrow to see how the ball went. Bye Beth, be good. Make me proud baby."
Buffy had to resist the urge to heave. "Goodbye Hank." With a relieved sigh she hung up the receiver, refusing point blank to refer to that ass- hole as Dad.
With a final look out of the window Buffy stood, rolled her shoulders to try and ease the tension in her body and grabbed a handful of tissues from the caddy on the desk. She could have left the banana massacre for the cleaning shift, but had very little interest in providing speculation for gossip involving her and a mushed banana.
Although she had proven herself in the job she had been forced into, there was still the lingering cloud of 'Daddy girl privilege ' that she hadn't been able to overcome. Plus the cleaners had enough work to do without strange fruit occurrences. After wiping down the window and dumping the used tissues in the trash, she reached for the phone. Dawn would be at home about now, if only briefly, before her hectic social life lured her out again.
Across the Atlantic a very smug Hank Summers turned to watch the attractive blonde woman in his suite fiddle with the tray that Room Service had finally delivered, and thought on his scheming.
He had not got to his current position in life by ignoring opportunities. When Buffy had confronted him at his offices three years ago, he had sensed an opportunity for personal and professional advantage that was too good to pass up. He had been remarkably surprised that the attractive young woman who had accosted him outside his offices was his eldest daughter. His frumpy, overachieving, art-loving lump of a daughter had become a desirable woman, and therefore an asset to his schemes.
Hank Summers had aspirations and Buffy was helping him reach them. Them, being the O'Connor's. The O' Connor's were a prominent and influential family in the same publishing business as Hank. They had an eligible son, Angel with the reputation of being charming, if not faithful. Hank could see dollar signs and the upper echelons of LA society beckoning with the merger of their businesses, and their offspring and Buffy had provided the means.
He had offered Buffy a job. She would work for the money to support herself and her sister and she would be amenable to attending the social functions he deemed appropriate. the job had paid more than anything else a young woman with an incomplete education could hope to find. He had also sweetened the pot by instructing his lawyers to relinquish all responsibility for Dawn to Buffy. Now if she would just get Angel O'Connor to pop the question, his place in society and business would be secured. But the two of them were dithering about and he was pretty much fed up with it. Things were going to have to change and he'd see to it when he got back. In the meantime he had another problem to wrestle with as he grabbed his latest paramour in a fumbling embrace.
Dawn was just putting her key in the front door lock when she heard the phone ringing. On the fifth ring, just before the answer machine was about to pick up, the breathless girl managed to answer. "Hello."
"Hey Dawnie it's me."
"Hey Buffy, how's the hellhole?"
"The hellhole is about to shut down for the day. I just talked to the devil incarnate in London, he's not coming back for another week so I hope the "moaning money" fund was filled before his departure."
"Absolutely. Would I let Daddy dearest depart our shores without suitable monetary recompense?" Dawn smiled down the phone in her best British accent. "You about ready to sneak home?"
"I'm gonna get a few chapters read, then I'll be back. Did you get my dress?"
There was a complete absence of sound from the person on the end of the phone. "Dawn? My dress? The drycleaners? Any of this ringing a bell?"
"Oh God Buffy I completely forgot!"
She could hear her sister sigh.
"Did you forget the grocery shop too?"
"I'm so sorry Buffy, I had dance class then we went to the movies and Jay needed a new pair of sunglasses so we went to the Mall." Dawn trailed off annoyed at herself.
Oh she had screwed up big time. Buffy was relying on her more and more to do some of these things and she'd blown it. So much for being a responsible teen with an eye on a driving permit. Buffy had so little time for herself these days, let alone a social life that wasn't dictated to her by Hank. She hadn't even managed to see Willow and Xander in the last week, and the last time Buffy had dated anyone other than Angel, had been two years ago with the inexcusable Parker Abram's. After a rocky start in LA Dawn had settled down well and managed to make new friends. Her disgust at her father had induced her to guilt as much cash from him while she remotely had the chance. She was good. Hank was particularly defenceless against the persistent and annoying whining that had plagued Buffy so much in the first few teenaged years of Dawn's life. She had offered to pass the money, well at least some of it, into the household funds, but Buffy had refused. She would take the money she earned at work for them but she refused to have Hank's guilt money, she was actually still amazed that he had any guilt. Dawn tried to insist, but they compromised on the "moaning money", as it was dubbed, to be for Dawn's phone and luxury extras, like her dancing lessons.
Dawn agreed but unknown to Buffy she also put some away into a savings account. She knew about her sister's ambition for the art gallery, and when the time came for funding it she wanted to be able to be a part of it and help out. She missed her mother and this felt like a way to be close to her and help do something for her sister. Dawn was well aware of the sacrifices Buffy had made to ensure her a home and a chance of a life away from her fathers clutches. When Buffy had told her of the move to LA she had still had had the fantasy of her glamorous absentee father in her mind, but one meeting was sufficient to make her drop those dreams and face the reality of her father's character.
"It's fine Dawn. These sort of things aren't your problem they're mine. I'll leave now and pick these thing's up on my way home."
Dawn was upset. She could take being shouted at, but when Buffy got quiet and resigned she worried. She hated the semi annual brood fest that Buffy experienced and hoped this incident wouldn't set her off early.
She knew how much she owed to Buffy and how hard she worked. Buffy needed any extra time she had to study. She was so determined to gain her degree. The September after their mother's death Buffy had simply stopped functioning. It was as if everything she had worked for, achieved, meant nothing to her now. She wouldn't eat, go to work or even talk to her friends. She would barely sleep even.
On one occasion Dawn had snuck into her room to check on her, to find Buffy finally passed out in exhaustion over a pile of well-worn letters and photographs of a plump blonde lady and a baby. The lady she had recognised as Buffy's long time pen pal Tara. Before she'd been able to sneak a peak at the letters' contents Buffy had begun to stir and Dawn had beaten a hasty retreat to make an overdue telephone call to Xander and Willow.
Dawn would have attributed this depression to final acceptance of Joyce's death but it had happened over ten months later. Buffy's fugue state lasted four days before she began to snap out of it. She changed her major from Art Studies and Business Management to Fine Art with a harder emphasis on the business side. She enrolled for night courses and became determined to earn her degree even if, working, taking care of her and dating Angel took up most of her time. Dawn had been surprised at the abrupt turn around and also Buffy's new degree major. For as long as she could remember Buffy had lived and breathed art, she was an extremely talented sculptress, but after that September when Buffy's focus returned full strength it went not into creating her own pieces but to carrying on her mother's work.
"I am sorry."
"I know Dawnie."
She heard Buffy take a deep cleansing breath and move to change the subject. "So, what are you doing this evening?"
"I'm spending the night at Susanne's. The number's on the fridge and I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Okay?" Dawn briefly considered asking to stay home alone, but with her screw up she didn't dare.
"That's fine. You have a great night okay?"
"Okay. You have a good time too. Say hi to Angel for me."
"Will do sweetie. Bye."
When she hung up Dawn took a good look around the home Buffy had made for them. The proceeds from the sale of the family home, at least what was left after the 'loan' to Hank had been repaid, were placed into an investment fund. They were able to afford a small but nicely appointed house. Their white knight at that time had been Xander, he'd been moved to LA to train for his new construction job, and with his help the little house quickly became a home. Hank, in an attempt to gain more control over their lives had offered an up market apartment but Buffy didn't want to be that indebted to him.
* Time for a little bit of grovelling * she decided as she entered the kitchen and noticed the remnants of breakfast.
At Dawn's farewell Buffy pressed call end then called down to the office reception desk to ask for a taxicab. The duty desk guard Pauly, sniggered good-naturedly at her regular request and she once again vowed that the driving permit that had eluded her since high school Drivers Ed would be hers. *Oh. Who was she kidding? Her driving was frightening. It even frightened her. * She was a lifetime pedestrian or a passenger, and since absolutely no one in LA walked that left passenger. She hated being so dependent on others and it restricted her freedom.
She packed up her bag, locked up her office and headed to the elevator to wait for the cab in the pretty little atrium off Reception. As she entered the elevator she pressed the button for the first floor.
While the car descended Buffy mentally ran the grocery list through her head * Bread, salad, milk low fat, cheese low fat, Choco Pops for Dawn, pasta, cucumber for the bags under my eyes.... * she was so engrossed that when the lift doors opened she automatically walked out without realising she hadn't yet reached her destination. *.... apples, bananas, okay maybe not a good choice after today, washing liquid...*
A high-pitched burst of childish laughter stopped her in her tracks. As the perpetrator of the noise came bundling excitedly around the corner of the corridor, chased by her laughing father, Buffy froze, realising where she was just as the 5-year-old girl bumped into her. She wasn't at Reception. She was at the sixth floor company crèche.
"Whoops, sorry lady."
Buffy looked down and into the upturned face of Riley Finn's daughter, Rosie. The little girl was adorable with sandy hair in high bunches, blue eyes, and most notably her chubby arms, legs and previously pink dress covered in blue paint. She mentally shook herself as she knelt down to Rosie's eye level.
"It's ok honey. Did you hurt yourself?"
"Nope, but if Daddy catches me I have ta go home"
"Don't you want to go home, sweetie?" Buffy asked as she glanced upwards to meet Riley's gaze as he caught up to his errant child.
"Oh yes. But..." Rosie ducked her head conspiratorially and whispered " ... I still wanna be blue".
Buffy looked back up at Riley and they shared a small chuckle.
Riley crouched down, grasped Rosie around her waist and stood to his full impressive height. "Come on Munchkin lets go get you some dinner".
"'Bye Buffy, sorry about the moving violation."
Buffy smiled "Not to worry. Have a good weekend".
"Oh we will" started Rosie, " we gonna go to the Zoo an I'm gonna get a baboon..."
"A balloon, honey," corrected her father.
". an a ice-cream, an a stuffed toy...and we're gonna..." Rosie's voice trailed off as she and Riley entered the elevator and the door closed.
*Damn. * Buffy swore as realised she'd have to wait for the next car.
She glanced down the corridor, her interest piqued by the unmistakable sounds of children laughing and clapping and talking. Unconsciously her feet made the decision to go take a look. Buffy turned the corridor corner to be greeted by the sight of the company crèche empting for the day.
'Any employee of Summer & Langdon is eligible for free company childcare' insisted Hank Summers.
Buffy would've been more impressed with this declaration if she hadn't known he had had this innovation leaked all over the press to improve his social and charitable standing. However, if it meant parents could work and still be able to assure the care of their children Buffy was all for it, however it happened.
Buffy leant against the full-length window near the crèche entrance and watched the children getting ready to go home. Parents battled to dress little tired bodies, exhausted from their active play, into their overcoats. Gamely juggling armfuls of strange assorted Dali-like masterpieces of junk models, finger paintings, and pasta collages until finally they began dragging their children away from their playmates with the fading voices of " Mommy looky what I made."; "Stanley said I had cooties..."; " Don't wanna go..." echoing down the corridor.
If anyone had had time to look up at the woman watching they wouldn't have seen a successful twenty-five year old businesswoman. They would have seen a young, wistful, sad girl with eyes darkened and clouded in thought.
In the far corner by the nursery train set, a small boy of about six years old by Buffy's reckoning, with unruly dark blonde curls, had caught her eye. He was completely entranced with the engines, the track, the bridges and signals. He showed no interest in being shuffled into his coat by the crèche worker hovering over him. He just sat and played, occasionally shifting position sideways when he'd moved the trains to the extent of his short reach.
Buffy found herself completely enthralled in watching his little figure link up the trains, push them round the track and pull them into the station, presumably so imaginary passengers could get off and on. All the while his lips moved as if providing dialogue for the pretend people or maybe a running narrative for the scene.
As the last of the readied children left, Buffy wondered where his mother or father was. "Why would any one leave their child waiting?" Buffy kicked herself, she was the last person qualified to make judgements on parenting choices.
With one last glance at the little boy, and a fervent wish that he wouldn't be left there too long, Buffy headed towards the lift attempting to shift all other thoughts from her mind to contemplation of running her errands, the upcoming ball and her required attendance with the handsome Angel O'Connor.