V., true to her word, called Amy and offered to take her to see the boxcar studio, warning her that she might have to pose.
"OK," Amy laughed.
V. went to the house to pick Amy up, determined not to let Rick's being there or not have any bearing on when and where she did anything.
Bravely, she went right up to the door. She was happy to see that Amy answered it.
"Hey, are you ready to go?" V. asked.
"Sure, but come in and say hi to Dad," Amy said.
"Hi Dad," V. stuck her head over the threshold a little and made a perfunctory wave. But she didn't move her feet from the doorstep.
Amy grabbed her purse and went out, looking a little bit confused. "In a hurry, eh?" she said to V.
"Oh no," V. said. "We have all evening if you want." She opened the passenger side door for Amy.
"Thank you," Amy said, sitting down. It was a habit V. had that was super-polite, in Amy's view.
She bucked her seat belt as V. went around the front of the car.
At the boxcar, Amy was interested in V.'s self portrait, Elizabeth's self portrait, and their portraits of each other.
"Now sit down, I'm going to sketch you," V. said.
"OK," Amy said. When she was settled and V. was sketching on an easel, Amy said, "Do you need me to be quiet?"
"No, thank God," V. said, giggling. "If my subject talks, I get more of who they are and it is good for the picture."
"OK," Amy said.
"So how is the summer going?" V. asked. "Are you taking all those lessons?"
"Yeah, I signed up for cooking at that extension of PCU," Amy said. "Then I went to tennis camp. Now I'm at volleyball camp."
"Sounds fun."
"Sure is. Do you like any sports?"
"Love to swim and play tennis. Maybe we can play sometime. You'll beat me, having been to camp."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Amy said. "I have fun playing tennis, but I'm not that good. Dad is, though."
"Oh, I didn't know that."
"Yeah, he's into more than gardening."
V. looked up and smiled. "How is your gardening going?"
"Pretty well. The bluebells look nice."
"I was thinking of taking you to see my mom's garden, remember?"
"Oh, yeah, I'd like to meet your mom."
V. sketched for a while. Amy was quiet.
"Do you go to work tomorrow?" Amy asked.
"Late shift," V. said.
"Are you working on any particular case?"
"Auto theft, that's always hard to solve. No pending murders just now."
"That's good. It must be strange. I mean, you hope there won't be any. But if there were, work would be more interesting."
V. considered this. "You have a point. But then, unfortunately, there always is one eventually. You can sincerely not want it to happen, but know that it will."
On the way home, they made plans to go to V's mother's house.
"Come in," Amy said, inviting.
"Thank you, but no," V. said. "I have to get up early for work tomorrow."
Amy thanked V. and got out of the car.
Then she remembered V. had said earlier that she was on a late shift tomorrow.
"Hi, Amy," her father greeted her.
"Hey, Dad," Amy said. "What's wrong with V.? Why won't she talk to you?"
"She won't?"
"She didn't want to come in either time."
Rick sighed. "Amy," he said. "I appreciate your efforts, I really do. But you have to let the parties work these things out for themselves once you try to set them up."
"OK, but tell me how it is not working out," Amy said. "I'm curious. I'm the matchmaker. Naturally I want to know how well I'm doing."
Rick put his face in his hands.
"Gee, Dad, I'm sorry," Amy said.
"I don't think I can actually start dating yet," he said.
Amy rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "It's been so long, and Mom would never want you to do this," she started saying. "I'm sorry, Dad," she said, going over to him. "I guess you think I don't know what Mom would have wanted."
"No, you have a right to your opinion," Rick said. "And I agree with it. It's me. I just can't seem to feel like I'm doing the right thing."
"I can tell you like her," Amy said, starting upstairs. "Don't lose her just because you're being too stuffy."
Rick stared after Amy, watching her go upstairs.
Jackson Delaney was working on his plane. He heard someone come in. To his surprise and a mixed feeling of pain and pleasure, it was Amanda Friel.
"Hey," he said, going back to his work.
"Hey, Jack," she said, with a chipper, businesslike air. "Zander and I have a new plan. We want to take Mikhail and Irina to Boston and teach them a lot of history and English."
"New students for your field trips," he said. "Zander goes from student to teacher."
"Yep, isn't it wonderful?" she said. She went on: "He's really getting into it. Putting together everything we'll do. Those two are lucky. They learn things immigrants normally don't get to learn, faster than immigrants ordinarily get to learn them. Of course we want you to take us. I'm here to work out the details."
"Just that."
Amanda looked confused.
"Well, we'll work that out," he said. He took out his calendar book. "When's the trip?"
"Uh, actually, whenever you can go, next week. We need a few hours in the area, of course, as usual, we'll take up your whole day."
"OK, Wednesday should work. I have jobs the other days."
"OK, Wednesday, early, is fine with us."
"OK, see you then." He turned back to his plane.
Amanda watched him a second, feeling dismissed. "Jack," she said.
"Yes," he looked up at her. At once she could see the pain in his face.
"I – er, want to tell you," she said. She started to feel nervous under his stare. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly. "I'm getting into counseling. With your sister."
He relaxed and stood up. "Colleen?" he asked.
"Yes," Amanda said. "My friend, V., you know her, the detective who came after us when I took Amy to Washington without telling Dad?"
"Yes, I remember her."
"She has been really nice – she lost her father, so she understands. Dad's gone out with her, I think he really likes her. She spent some time with Amy, too, really nice, you know, Amy doesn't have her mother – she took Amy to her work – Oh, I'm just going on so as to avoid getting to the point."
"It's OK," he said, sitting down, making a point of being non-threatening.
"She said my losing my mother – or she suggested and got me to think about it – is why I never seem to be able to get involved in any relationship. Recommended a counselor, she talked to one once. So I don't want you to feel like you have anything to do with it. It's all me. My problem."
"Thank you for telling me that," he said. "It really does help."
"Sure," she said. She turned to go, but he called her back. "Let me know if you want to go out sometime," he said. "Just friends, no pressure."
She smiled. He could see the relief in her face. It pained him, but he knew he was on the right track.
"I really appreciate that, Jack," she said. "I will call you."
Rick did not sleep well that night. In truth, he had not slept all that well in several nights. He kept wishing Joyce was there. The strange thing was, he wanted to talk to Joyce more than ever, about an odd subject for Joyce, had she been able to discuss it with him – how he felt about another woman.
Rick wondered why he felt so unsure. It wasn't that he thought Joyce wouldn't want him to do it. He missed Joyce still, every day, especially when he saw one of their daughters. Somehow this seemed unfair to a woman like V. She just seemed to merit a man who had never loved anyone else.
Yet her casual little, "Hi Dad," from the threshold of his house, when she'd come to pick Amy up, had hurt. Maybe she agreed with him now. It gave him pause. Did he really want her to agree with him that she deserved better than he? Was he really going to give up any chance he had with her out of this supposed nobility?
He tossed and turned. And now he had alienated her. He knew dating again was not going to be easy, had always known, and had therefore put it off. Putting it off had been easy when he'd had no real interest in anyway. But V. – she was different.