idea, Jessie.”
“It's not,” Hatch agreed.
“Sounds more like a job for a real private investigator,” David said.
“It is,” Hatch said.
“Pay no attention to him, David,” Jessie instructed. “He and Dad are being extremely tiresome and depressingly downbeat about my new career. Only to be expected, I suppose. The corporate mentality, you know.”
“Uh-huh. I know. Very narrow thinkers.”
“How true.” Jessie stifled a smile and ignored the impatient glance Hatch gave her. “Will you give me a hand, David?”
David smiled. “Sure. I'll see what I can do. But don't count on much, all right? Most of the people I know don't get involved with cults and related crap.”
“Anything at all would be useful.”
“All right.” David glanced at his watch. “I'd better be on my way. I only stopped by to give you the good news, but since you already know it, I might as well leave you two alone.” He got to his feet and flashed a quick glance at Hatch, who was finishing the last of his ravioli. “Uh, Jessie?”
“Yes?”
“Would you mind walking downstairs with me? I wanted to talk to you in private for a minute if that's okay.”
“Sure.” Jessie got down off the stool.
Hatch gave David a hard look. “Why don't you ask him yourself, instead of using Jessie as an intermediary?”
David flushed. “I don't understand.” His glance flickered to Jessie.
“Ignore him, David. It's all one can do. I'll go downstairs with you.” She hurried toward the door, chatting excitedly about Parkington in an effort to cover the awkward moment.
David was silent as they started down the stairs. “He's right, you know,” he finally said on a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Who?”
“Hatchard. I did want to ask if you'd feel out the old man for me on the subject of a loan. Think he'll spring for another one? He's already made it pretty damn clear what he thinks about my going for a doctorate. Hell, he gave me a bad-enough time when he found out I'd changed my undergraduate major from business administration to philosophy.”
Jessie nodded sympathetically. “I know. I'll talk to him, David. I can't promise anything.”
“I realize that. But he listens to you more than he does to anyone else in the family. You're the only one who seems to be able to beard the lion in his den with any real success.”
“Probably because I just keep pounding on him until his resistance is finally worn down. It's very wearing, you know. On me, I mean. I get so tired of it.”
“Why bother to do it?” David asked reasonably.
“In the beginning, when I was much younger, I think I started doing it just to get some attention for myself. Later, in my teenage years, I was naive enough to think I could actually change him, make him want to pay more attention to his family.”
“Mom says that kind of change is virtually impossible.”
“She may be right. All I know is that after Elizabeth came along I got very angry at Dad. It infuriated me to see him ignoring her the same way he had always tried to ignore you and me. So I became even more aggressive about getting him to play the part of a father.”
“You've had some success in terms of Elizabeth. You know, Uncle Vincent's a lot more aware of what's going on in her life than he ever was with either one of us.”
“Only because I've learned a few tricks. I've formed a conspiracy with Grace, his secretary. She helps me get things onto his calendar. I nag him. I plead with him. I yell at him. And at best I've got maybe a fifty-fifty success rate. He still calls half the time at the last minute to tell me he can't make a school function because he's got a crisis at the office.”
“I'll bet.” David shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “But at least he's always been around, hasn't he? He didn't just disappear the way my old man did.”
“Oh, David, I know. I'm sorry for whining like this.”
As always when the subject of David's father came up, Jessie was consumed
“It's not,” Hatch agreed.
“Sounds more like a job for a real private investigator,” David said.
“It is,” Hatch said.
“Pay no attention to him, David,” Jessie instructed. “He and Dad are being extremely tiresome and depressingly downbeat about my new career. Only to be expected, I suppose. The corporate mentality, you know.”
“Uh-huh. I know. Very narrow thinkers.”
“How true.” Jessie stifled a smile and ignored the impatient glance Hatch gave her. “Will you give me a hand, David?”
David smiled. “Sure. I'll see what I can do. But don't count on much, all right? Most of the people I know don't get involved with cults and related crap.”
“Anything at all would be useful.”
“All right.” David glanced at his watch. “I'd better be on my way. I only stopped by to give you the good news, but since you already know it, I might as well leave you two alone.” He got to his feet and flashed a quick glance at Hatch, who was finishing the last of his ravioli. “Uh, Jessie?”
“Yes?”
“Would you mind walking downstairs with me? I wanted to talk to you in private for a minute if that's okay.”
“Sure.” Jessie got down off the stool.
Hatch gave David a hard look. “Why don't you ask him yourself, instead of using Jessie as an intermediary?”
David flushed. “I don't understand.” His glance flickered to Jessie.
“Ignore him, David. It's all one can do. I'll go downstairs with you.” She hurried toward the door, chatting excitedly about Parkington in an effort to cover the awkward moment.
David was silent as they started down the stairs. “He's right, you know,” he finally said on a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Who?”
“Hatchard. I did want to ask if you'd feel out the old man for me on the subject of a loan. Think he'll spring for another one? He's already made it pretty damn clear what he thinks about my going for a doctorate. Hell, he gave me a bad-enough time when he found out I'd changed my undergraduate major from business administration to philosophy.”
Jessie nodded sympathetically. “I know. I'll talk to him, David. I can't promise anything.”
“I realize that. But he listens to you more than he does to anyone else in the family. You're the only one who seems to be able to beard the lion in his den with any real success.”
“Probably because I just keep pounding on him until his resistance is finally worn down. It's very wearing, you know. On me, I mean. I get so tired of it.”
“Why bother to do it?” David asked reasonably.
“In the beginning, when I was much younger, I think I started doing it just to get some attention for myself. Later, in my teenage years, I was naive enough to think I could actually change him, make him want to pay more attention to his family.”
“Mom says that kind of change is virtually impossible.”
“She may be right. All I know is that after Elizabeth came along I got very angry at Dad. It infuriated me to see him ignoring her the same way he had always tried to ignore you and me. So I became even more aggressive about getting him to play the part of a father.”
“You've had some success in terms of Elizabeth. You know, Uncle Vincent's a lot more aware of what's going on in her life than he ever was with either one of us.”
“Only because I've learned a few tricks. I've formed a conspiracy with Grace, his secretary. She helps me get things onto his calendar. I nag him. I plead with him. I yell at him. And at best I've got maybe a fifty-fifty success rate. He still calls half the time at the last minute to tell me he can't make a school function because he's got a crisis at the office.”
“I'll bet.” David shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “But at least he's always been around, hasn't he? He didn't just disappear the way my old man did.”
“Oh, David, I know. I'm sorry for whining like this.”
As always when the subject of David's father came up, Jessie was consumed
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