Lady in Waiting: A Novel by Susan Meissner Page B

Affirmation or self-worth. Whatever. Call it whatever you want.”
    The ease with which these other words fell from her lips had silenced me for a moment. She had known exactly what Dr. Kirtland was talking about. And she agreed with him. A tremor of frustration rippled through me as I formulated a response.
    “Jane?”
    “Hey. I happen to appreciate hearing what other people think. I always have. I think it’s good to listen to the advice of other people before you make an important decision.” My voice sounded a little shaky, as if I almost didn’t believe my own words.
    She had paused just for a moment. “Jane, I really don’t think Dr. Kirtland was talking about you feeling compelled to get advice from other people before you make important decisions.”
    “Yes, he was.”
    “I think he was probably talking about you feeling compelled to let other people
make
the important decisions.”
    “What are you talking about?” The words flew out of my mouth. “How do you know that’s what he meant?”
    One of her daughters had needed her at that moment, and we had to cut our conversation short. She told me to call her on Sunday when I got home from Long Island. We said good-bye on a weird note, disconnected.
    As I waited for my father, it occurred to me that just before we hung up, she’d quickly apologized if those words had hurt me. But she hadn’t apologized for saying them.

     
    I was happy to see that my sister was in the car with my dad when his relatively new Volvo pulled into the train station. Dad wouldn’t begin any interviews on the true nature of Brad’s whereabouts with Leslie in the car. At least my parents were discreet when they butted into my private life.I tossed my empty coffee cup into the trash as he and Leslie got out of the car and walked toward me. Dad, wearing the striped short-sleeved shirt I gave him for Father’s Day last year, gave me his customary peck on the cheek. The steel gray in the fabric of his shirt matched his slicked, silver hair. He smelled of Lava soap, as always. Leslie had on a bright pink, fitted T-shirt and stonewashed jeans. Hoop earrings the size of tea saucers hung from her ears. Her short-cropped hair was streaked with shades of bronze, copper, and gold.
    We embraced and I wished her a happy birthday.
    “This is all you’ve got?” My dad had my overnight bag in his hands and was looking about my feet for, I assume, a suitcase.
    “I’m just staying overnight, Dad.” I laughed.
    “Your mother said you were staying Sunday night too.”
    I never told my mother any such thing. “Um. No, I need to get back to Manhattan tomorrow.”
    “She’s a working girl now, Dad. Remember?” Leslie said as we began to make our way to Dad’s car. “The antique shop?”
    Dad ignored her sarcasm. “Your mother said you hired a new girl. She said you could stay until Monday.”
    “Well, yes, I’ve hired someone, but she’s only part-time, Dad. And I never said I was staying Sunday night too.”
    We arrived at the car. As I put out my hand to open the passenger door, Leslie pointed to the ring on my pinkie. Sunbeams were stroking the gems.
    “Hey. Is that a new ring?”
    “Actually, it’s a rather old ring. I just got it in a shipment from Emma this past week. I want to take it to David Longmont and see if he can appraise it for me.” As my dad tossed my overnight bag into the trunk, I leaned toward my sister.
    “It has my first name engraved inside,” I said softly.
    Her eyes were wide as Dad slammed the trunk shut and announced that David Longmont was retired.
    I called over my shoulder. “I hear he still hangs out there now that his son has taken over the business.”
    “Can I see it?” Leslie said as we both slid into the car.
    I took off the ring and handed it over the seat to Leslie. She immediately held it up to the window, squinting to read the inscription.
    My dad got inside the car, and his brow furrowed as he watched Leslie. “What’s she