Ellis did not want to rent cars frequently in this area, for then one day his enemies would find out, through the records of the rental agencies or the credit card companies, and then they would be on the way to finding out about Petal. The alternative would be to use a different identity every time he rented a car, but identities were expensive and the Agency would not provide them for a desk man. So he used Gill’s Honda, or hired the local taxi.
Petal came back in, with her blond hair wafting about her shoulders. Ellis stood up. Gill said: “The keys are in the car.”
Ellis said to Petal: “Jump in the car. I’ll be right there.” Petal went out. He said to Gill: “I’d like to invite her to Washington for a weekend.”
Gill was kind but firm. “If she wants to go, she certainly can, but if she doesn’t, I won’t make her.”
Ellis nodded. “That’s fair. See you later.”
He drove Petal to a Chinese restaurant in Little Neck. She liked Chinese food. She relaxed a little once she was away from the house. She thanked Ellis for sending her a poem on her birthday. “Nobody I know has ever had a poem for their birthday,” she said.
He was not sure whether that was good or bad. “Better than a birthday card with a picture of a cute kitten on the front, I hope.”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “All my friends think you’re so romantic. My English teacher asked me if you had ever had anything published.”
“I’ve never written anything good enough,” he said. “Are you still enjoying English?”
“I like it a
“What do you study? Any plays?”
“No, but we have poems sometimes.”
“Any you like?”
She thought for a moment. “I like the one about the daffodils.”
Ellis nodded. “I do, too.”
“I forgot who wrote it.”
“William Wordsworth.”
“Oh, right.”
“Any others?”
“Not really. I’m more into music. Do you like Michael Jackson?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ve heard his records.”
“He’s really cute.” She giggled. “All my friends are crazy about him.”
It was the second time she had mentioned
“Oh,
Feeling mildly rebuffed, Ellis concentrated on his food for a while. He drank a glass of white wine with it: French habits had stayed with him.
When he finished he said: “Listen, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t you come to Washington and stay at my place one weekend? It’s only an hour on the plane, and we could have a good time.”
She was quite surprised. “What’s in Washington?”
“Well, we could take a tour of the White House, where the President lives. And Washington has some of the best museums in the whole world. And you’ve never even seen my apartment. I have a spare bedroom . . .” He trailed off. He could see she was not interested.
“Oh, Daddy, I don’t know,” she said. “I have so much to do on weekends—homework, and parties, and shopping, and dance lessons and everything. . . .”
Ellis hid his disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Maybe sometime when you’re not so busy you could come.”
“Yes, okay,” she said, visibly relieved.
“I could fix up the spare bedroom so you could come anytime you like.”
“Okay.”
“What color shall I paint it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Pink. I guess.”
“Pink it is.” Ellis forced a smile. “Let’s go.”
In the car on the way home she asked him whether he would mind if she had her ears pierced.
“I don’t know,” he said guardedly. “How does Mommy feel about it?”
“She said it’s okay with her if it’s okay with you.” Was Gill thoughtfully including him in the decision or just passing the buck? “I don’t think I like the idea,” Ellis said. “You may be a little young to begin making holes in yourself for decoration.”
“Do you think I’m too young to have a boyfriend?”
Ellis wanted to say yes. She seemed far too young. But he couldn’t stop her growing up. “You’re old enough to date, but not to go steady,” he said. He glanced at her to catch her reaction. She looked amused. Maybe they don’t talk about going steady anymore, he thought.
When they reached the house, Bernard’s Ford was parked in the driveway. Ellis pulled the Honda in behind it and went in with Petal. Bernard was in the living room. A small man with very short hair, he was good-natured and utterly without imagination. Petal greeted him enthusiastically, hugging and kissing him. He seemed a little embarrassed. He shook Ellis’s hand firmly, saying: “Government still ticking over okay, back in Washington?”
“Same as always,” Ellis said. They thought that he worked for the State Department and that his job was to read French newspapers and magazines and prepare a daily digest for the France Desk.
“How about a beer?”
Ellis did not really want one, but he accepted just to be friendly. Bernard went into the kitchen to get it. He was credit manager for a department store in New York City. Petal seemed to like and respect him, and he was gently affectionate with her. He and Gill had no other children: that fertility specialist had done him no good.
He came back with two glasses of beer and handed one to Ellis. “Go and do your homework now,” he said to Petal. “Daddy will say good-bye before he leaves.”
She kissed him again and ran off. When she was out of earshot he said: “She isn’t normally so affectionate. She seems to overdo it when you’re around. I don’t understand it.”
Ellis understood it only too well, but he did not want to think about it yet. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “How’s business?”
“Not bad. High interest rates haven’t hit us as badly as we feared they might. It seems that people are still willing to borrow money to buy things—in New York, at least.” He sat down and sipped his beer.
Ellis always felt that Bernard was physically frightened of him. It showed in the way the man walked around, like a pet dog that is not really allowed indoors, careful to stay an inch or two out of kicking distance.
They talked about the economy for a few minutes, and Ellis drank his beer as fast as he could, then got up to leave. He went to the foot of the staircase and called: “Bye, Petal.”
She came to the top of the stairs. “What about having my ears pierced?”
“Can I think about it?” he said.
“Sure. Bye.”
Gill came down the stairs. “I’ll drive you to the airport,” she said.
Ellis was surprised. “Okay. Thanks.”
When they were on the road Gill said: “She told me she didn’t want to spend a weekend with you.”
“Right.”
“You’re upset, aren’t you?”
“Does it show?”
“To me it does. I used to be married to you.” She paused. “I’m sorry, John.”
“It’s my fault. I didn’t think it through. Before I came along, she had a mommy and a daddy and a home—all any child wants. I’m not
