Homefront
Part 9
July 21, 1984
Tessa looked out the window of the sedan, watching as first Sleepyside, and then New York City passed. Honey, sitting next to her squeezed her hand and smiled sympathetically. “They aren’t that bad, Tess,” Honey assured her. “I used to be terribly afraid of Grandfather, but he really is just an old softy under his grumpy shell, and Grandmother is very proper, but she loves all of her grandchildren. She’ll love you, too.”
“I know.” Tessa turned to face her newest cousin. “I’m not afraid, but it’s just strange. I keep thinking that...never mind.”
Somehow Honey understood. “You don’t have to worry. Daddy and Mother aren’t going to let anyone change the arrangement. You’re just going down for a week, to meet the whole family. We’ll go home to Sleepyside next Friday. Oyster Bay is nice this time of year. The house is right on the sound, and I know how much you love the water.”
Tessa smiled. “True, and Uncle Andy will be there tomorrow.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Honey. I really am excited to meet my grandparents and Uncle Wes, and all my cousins; it’s just that two weeks ago they were, I don’t know, an idea. A dream. Now, all of a sudden, I’m on my way to meet them. It’s a little surreal.”
“I suppose.” Honey brushed back a strand of silky hair. “I can’t imagine being moved around as much as you have these last few years. All those different places. It must be unsettling.”
“It’s not the places,” Tessa said, looking out the window again. “It’s the leaving, the saying goodbye. Or not saying goodbye.” She shrugged, and when she faced her cousin again, she was smiling. “At least this time I’ll be just down the road, so I don’t have to say goodbye to anyone.” She shook her head ruefully. “Some Girl Power Summer this turned out to be. We haven’t done half the things we talked about. I’m sorry for that.”
“Believe me, we did enough!” Honey rolled her hazel eyes and giggled. Counting off on her fingers, she continued, “We rode the horses every day. We swam. We found Mrs. Lynch’s diamond behind the entertainment center, we dragged Trixie shopping for a new bathing suit, and we didn’t get kidnapped or chased by menacing men with guns. That sounds like a good summer to me, and it isn’t over yet.”
“Being kidnapped is part of a normal summer?” Tessa asked with a grin.
“Only since I met Trixie,” Honey confided. “Before that, life was very dull.”
I think just about anything would be dull without Trixie,” Tessa giggled. “She’s a ball of energy.”
They were still giggling when the car pulled into a long driveway. Tessa watched, wide eyed as the driver pushed a button on the visor, and the wrought iron gates slid open. The grounds were beautifully manicured, the drive lined with dwarf maple trees leading to a large cream and brick mansion built in the Georgian Neoclassical style. The driver pulled around a covered rotunda paved in pink brick. In the center stood a beautiful fountain made from seashells and polished rock. It was simple in design, the water cascading in graceful rhythm. As she stepped out of the car, Tessa found her eyes drawn to it, watching the water fall.
“Your father built that when he was seventeen.” Tessa turned toward the deep voice. It belonged to a tall, slender man with hazel eyes and gray streaked brown hair. The resemblance to her own father was strong, and Tessa knew immediately that this was Wesley Hart.
“Uncle Wes?” she inquired softly.
“Yes.” Wesley Hart stepped toward his eldest niece. She smiled, tentatively, and he couldn’t contain himself. He swept her into his arms and held her tight. “Oh God! I am so sorry, Tessa. Please, please forgive me.”
Tess whispered gently, “There isn’t anything to forgive. I’m fine. I’m here. Please, Uncle Wes, put me down.”
He released her immediately. “I’m sorry.” Noticing Honey, standing near the trunk of the car, he opened his arms. “Honey, sweet. Give your uncle a hug?”
Honey acquiesced with a big smile. “Where is everyone?” she asked.
“They’re waiting inside,” Wes said, offering each girl an arm. “I just didn’t have the patience to wait any longer.”
Tessa giggled. “I guess the patience gene doesn’t run in the Hart family.”
Wes looked at her and smiled. “Oh, we have it, I just think we manage to suppress it most of the time.” As they all laughed, he continued, “Come along. Let me introduce you to your family.”
July 24, 1984
2:00 am
Family. It was amazing how that word took on a life of its own. Tessa sat on the window seat of her room, looking out at the lights on Long Island Sound, thinking about the word family, and what it was coming to mean to her. The last two days had been an experience, to say the least. This house, this enormous house, where her father had spent his childhood and teenage years was amazing. She was still astounded at the difference between the overwhelming opulence of her grandparents’ house, and the homes in which she had lived. Jack Hart’s taste had certainly run in a different direction than his parents’. She smiled to herself, remembering her first meeting with her grandparents.
Barbara Hart, otherwise known as Grandmother, was exactly as Honey had described her. Tall and slender, with perfectly coiffed white hair, she was very proper, indeed. Standing in the foyer, Tess had felt a little intimidated by the immaculately dressed woman with the cool blue eyes. She had almost felt as if she should curtsey. Instead, she had squared her shoulders and thrust out her hand.
“Hello. I’m Tessa, and I’m pleased to finally meet you.” The words came out with a little more defiance than she had intended, but she pasted a smile on her face and hoped no one had noticed.
The hand that enclosed her own was soft and cool, but the grip was solid, and the smile that barely broke on the woman’s face was slight, but genuine. “The pleasure is all mine, darling. You’ve grown into a lovely young woman; a credit to your parents.” The cultured voice trembled a bit, and Tessa realized that her grandmother was as nervous as she was. She took a tentative step forward, and was embraced. Tessa returned the hug, gently, and waited to be released.
Barbara Hart stepped back, but kept one arm around Tessa. “This is your grandfather. He has been most anxious to meet you.”
Charles Hart was a stately man, not the least bit as frail as Tessa had imagined him. His wrinkled face was stern, his gray brows bushy over his green-gold eyes. Eyes that Tessa recognized, for they were the same as those she saw in the mirror. Hart eyes.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Grandfather. You are looking quite well.”
“Expecting an invalid, were you?” he asked gruffly, although there was a suspicious twinkle in his eye.
“Well, yes,” Tessa told him frankly. “The last I knew, you had had several heart attacks.”
“Several?” the elderly man growled, “Who told you several? I had three. Three, I tell you, and that was more than two years ago. Several! Pah!”
“I’m sure that three was more than enough,” Tessa agreed, “And you certainly look well, now.”
“Yes I do,” Charles agreed. His voice softened, and he smiled at her, and she saw her father in his face. “And you look wonderful, too. We thought we’d lost you, little girl, and we’ve already lost too much. Welcome home.”
As she allowed herself to be enveloped by her grandfather, Tessa felt tears running down her face. Home.
The clock in the hall chimed the half hour and Tessa stretched. She knew she should be asleep, but her mind wouldn’t stop replaying scenes from the very busy, past few days.
After her emotional meeting with her grandparents, she had met the rest of her family. The Rykers, Aunt Genevieve and Uncle Christian, along with their son Ben, who had looked at her with slightly bemused hazel eyes. Uncle Wesley’s wife, Catherine, and their three children, Charles, Jared and Chloe. They were an interesting lot. Aunt Genny was every bit as tall as her mother and sister Madeleine, but her hair was lighter, and her eyes more blue than green. Uncle Christian was a good inch shorter than his wife, with a craggy face, white blond hair and intense brown eyes. Aunt Catherine, in contrast, was short and curvy, with dark brown hair and grey eyes, and the face of an artist’s angel.
The cousins came next. Charles, or Charley, as he was called, was nearly twenty, serious and scholarly. He was attending Harvard, being groomed to assume the family business. Jared and Ben were just seventeen and eighteen and much more relaxed and easygoing, while Chloe, a pixie of almost ten, was somewhat shy. They had shaken hands formally as they were introduced, and Tessa was struck again by the differences between her father’s family and her mother’s.
Things had continued, rather stiff, and overly polite. Tessa was given a tour of the house, shown to her room, and introduced to the household staff. Madeleine and Matthew arrived shortly before dinner was served at eight. Dinner had also been formal, served in an exquisitely decorated dining room, around an enormous polished cherry table, set with delicate porcelain and gold-tipped silverware. The food was delicious, but Tess found herself concentrating on remembering which piece of silver to use with which course. As the meal end, she stifled a sigh, relieved that she had made it through the nearly silent dinner without embarrassing herself. Seated next to her, Honey heard her and squeezed her hand under the table in a gesture of understanding.
And then it happened. The group of stiff, polite strangers, with their familiar features and completely foreign ways, stepped out of the ornate room and into the den, where they suddenly became a family. Grandfather’s den was smaller than the dining room, paneled in dark wood and boasting overstuffed furniture and beautiful, but worn Persian rugs.
Grandfather had taken his place in an old leather armchair, with Grandmother perched next to him in a similar chair. Tessa watched as her older cousins grabbed huge pillows from a corner rack and plopped themselves cheerfully on the floor. The aunts and uncles chose sofas, and Tessa found herself next to Honey on a green plaid love seat, with Chloe sprawled at their feet. As one of the servants passed around coffee, tea, and freshly squeezed lemonade, conversation began. They didn’t just exchange pleasantries, they talked. They listened, and they laughed. Tessa was drawn into the mix as Ben told funny stories from his search for an apartment in New Haven, where he would attend Yale in September. Jared sipped his lemonade and teased both his older brother and his younger sister, a scene that was all too familiar to Tess. Chloe shared her day camp experiences, and talked about her new kitten, while Charley gave her his full attention. Even Honey joined in, telling everyone about the Girl Power Summer, making it sound much more exciting than Tessa remembered. The adults chatted about work and social events, talking about missing Jim, yet being proud of him and his summer job.
Tessa kicked off her shoes, drew up her knees and watched as she listened. When there was a lull in the conversation, she cleared her throat and asked, “Would you tell me about my father?”
She blushed, as all eyes turned toward her. Barbara Hart broke the silence by asking her granddaughter, “What do you want to hear?”
Tessa shrugged. “I don’t know. Daddy didn’t talk a lot about growing up here, but when he did, he always sounded like he had a happy childhood. I guess I just wanted to know what he was like, you know, when he was a kid.”
“He was a brilliant boy,” Charles Hart said, his voice gruff. “He learned everything so very quickly--just absorbed it like a sponge.”
“And so very sweet,” Barbara mused. “He and Wesley both, always bringing me flowers and little seashells.”
“Oh please!” Genny snorted. “He was a pest of a little brother, always sneaking around...”
“You’re just saying that because we left his toad in your underwear drawer,” Madeleine interrupted.
“I remember that!” Wes laughed. “Oh, Lord. He was what, ten? And Lainey, you were eight, and Genny was so obnoxiously almost fourteen...”
“You touched a toad, Mother?” Honey asked in disbelief.
“Your mother was quite a little hoyden, Honey,” Grandmother Barbara informed her. “It wasn’t until she went to finishing school that she finally wore off her rough edges.”
“I was definitely not a hoyden, Mother,” Madeleine protested. “I was just a little adventurous...”
The stories had rolled on, for more than two hours. Grandmother sent the maid to bring in some photo albums, and Tessa sat with her cousins, looking at the pictures and listening with glee as the adults laughed and argued over events of the past. It had been nearly midnight before they had all said goodnight and retired upstairs.
The next two days had been more of the same. It was odd, but Tessa was becoming used to the two sides of this family. Some of the rooms in the house were formal, and proper behavior was expected in those rooms. The dining room, the sitting room, and the parlor were all very pristine. But other parts of the house were simply for family. The den, library,breakfast room and basement rec room were all places where hugs, laughter and idle chit-chat could be shared. The grounds were also more casual, despite the landscaping. Thirteen acres of rolling lawns and perfectly manicured gardens offered the perfect opportunity for silly games such as hide and seek, as well as a rousing game of croquet, before heading off to the private beach for a dip in the sound. Returning to the house, the cousins would shower in the pool house, before dressing for dinner.
Two sides of the same coin. Tessa looked at the clock. It was nearly three, and she should try again to sleep. They had a picnic lunch and a family cookout on the beach planned for later today. Still, she felt restless--uneasy almost. Sighing, she considered calling Uncle Andy, but quickly set that thought aside. Andy had been called back to the city on business. He was probably asleep. As you should be, she told herself, unfolding herself from her seat at the window.
As she started for her bed, Tessa heard a door close, followed by heavy footsteps and whispered voices in the hall. Creeping to her door, she eased it open and peered out.
Matthew Wheeler stood barefoot in the hall, his red hair tousled, his bathrobe was untied, and he held his DynaTAC portable telephone close to his head. “What do you mean they’re missing?” he whispered frantically. “How can they be out of radio contact?”
“Matt, darling?” Madeleine joined her husband in the hall. “What’s wrong?”
Matthew held up his hand. “I understand that, but this is my son you’re talking about.” Madeleine gasped, one hand covering her mouth, the other grasping Matthew’s arm. “Yes, call Jenks and get him out there. Yes. Yes, have the jet prepped. I’ll need to speak with Regan and Maypenny--I’m sure one of them will want to go too. Keep me informed. Yes, I’ll keep this line open.” He pushed the off button and turned to his wife. “Something happened with the camp. Jim, Dan and their campers are missing, along with the director and assistant director. I don’t know the details, but they lost radio contact around eight last night. Someone who identified himself as Jim Frayne placed an emergency call about thirty minutes ago, claiming that he and his group were being chased by an armed man. He said one of them had been shot.” Matthew looked into his wife’s eyes, wide with horror and fear. “The line went dead before Jim could give their location, and it’s a rural area; the address wasn’t linked to the call.”
Tears rolled down Madeleine’s face, but her voice was strong. “When do we leave?”
“I’m having the jet readied right now. I’ll head back to Sleepyside and talk to Regan and Maypenny, and then I’m heading to Washington.” He hesitated. “I think you should stay here,” Madeleine protested, but Matthew hushed her. “Take the girls home to Sleepyside. You need to be strong for Honey. She’s going to be scared and frantic. I promise to let you know the moment I hear anything.”
Madeleine was quiet for a long moment. “I’ll stay, and I’ll be strong, but you tell my son that I wanted to be there. You make sure he knows.”
Matthew enveloped her in his arms. “I will,” he whispered. “I promise.”
Madeleine pulled away. “Go call for the car. I’ll wake the girls and we’ll go home together.” She took a deep breath. “And then you go, and you bring our boys home.”
Matthew dropped a kiss on her forehead and said again, “I will.”
