Elizabeth and Anastasia

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 4 of 8

Disclamer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended by
explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to
possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law
in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much
fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your
computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of
fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities
or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my
life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>>  Confrontation and a slap in the face, aftermath,
             even more secrets
<<past>>     A long cold summer, a better fall, a Christmas card,
             a dinner date

**********************************************************************

<<past>>

Betty cancelled the last few tutoring sessions with Stacy, claiming
they'd already covered more than what she'd missed.  Her father
accepted that with nothing more than a questioning look.

There were two telephone calls from her as well.  Betty basically
ignored Stacy on the other end, saying that no, she couldn't make it
for coffee that day, she had a date, maybe another time, and hung up.
The conversation was for her father's benefit.


The rest of the school year went smoothly.

Mr. Valdez was a changed man ever since she'd seen him in Ms. Flanders
office.  He became rather shy and soft-spoken, often blushing when
speaking with any of the girls.  Heck, some of them rather liked him
now, he was that different.  One thing was rather odd about him
though.  He rarely sat down, and when he did, he looked, well,
uncomfortable, squirming around as though something itched.  It became
a minor standing joke around school because he rarely if ever sat in
class, stood to eat lunch, and leaned against a desk or a wall when
relaxing.  'Definitely odd', Betty said to herself, whenever she
thought about the changes in him.

When it came time to write the makeup exams, they were administered by
Ms. Flanders.  Betty aced them.  All that pushing by Stacy had helped.

Near the end of the year, one of the junior guys, a cute italian type
with big brown eyes, invited her to the junior prom.  She accepted,
and then talked her dad into letting her go.  He gave her strict
instructions on how to behave and what not to do.

On prom night, she lost her virginity.  Too much alcohol, smuggled in,
and a date that wouldn't take no for an answer.  At least he used a
rubber.  It was distinctly unsatisfying.  This was supposed to be one
of the most glorious events in her life, and all she got was a sore
and bloody crotch.  He never gave her an orgasm, and never called
again.  She never told her father.

There was only one person in Betty's life now who she could really
talk to, and that was Joyce.  Even then she couldn't bring herself to
open up completely.  There was no mention of that last afternoon with
Stacy, or her lingering attraction to the girl.  She never discussed
the details of prom night, only that she'd lost her virginity. Joyce
did help her with the things a mother normally would have, even
finding a doctor who would prescribe birth control pills without her
father's knowledge.  Those long lunches or dinners every few weeks
were the only times Betty could open up to anyone.  She certainly
wouldn't dream of talking about these things with dad.

The summer went pretty much the same way as that last winter and
spring, dating different guys, rarely finding any that were
satisfying, let alone one who could make her feel really good.  The
few she let go all the way were mostly inept. Even as inexperienced as
she was, she knew there had to be better.  Only once had she even
climaxed with a guy inside her, and that was just barely.  She
considered finding a more experienced man, just to find out what it
was supposed to be like, but knew she'd never forgive herself if it
got out of hand.  Masturbation times became frequent, increasing along
with the frustration she was feeling with her dates.

Several times during that spring and summer she was invited out on
double dates with Robert and Jordan.  These were the only real high
points of this period, except for her occasional lunches or dinners
with Joyce.  Everything else seemed rather mundane.  Especially her
other dates.

For some reason, whenever she got really depressed, her thoughts would
return to that one evening with Stacy, in Annabella's.  It wasn't the
food or the wine or the conversation.  What she kept remembering was
the silent time they'd shared afterwards, just sitting there, doing
nothing. This always made her cry, feeling lonely, feeling the ache of
that empty hole inside her.

She could barely feel Stacy's kiss on her cheek as she cried, lighter
than a feather's touch, as ephemeral as the faintest hint of a
summer's breeze.


**********************************************************************

<<present>>

Betty had her nose buried in a history text when her dad got home.
She hadn't read a thing, but was lying there wondering what would
happen if she did move out.  The thought was scary, since this was the
only home she'd ever really known.  Even after her mom moved out, it
was still home.  Just emptier.

She heard her dad and Patsy talking.  Their voices sounded tense, but
they were talking quietly enough that she couldn't make out what they
were saying.  A few minutes later, her father came up to her room.

"Hi short-stuff.  What's this nonsense I hear about you not coming to
the beach with us?  I've already made the reservations.  You wouldn't
want to ruin the weekend, would you?"

"Dad, I told you yesterday that I wasn't interested in going.  You
weren't listening.  I really don't feel like taking off for the
weekend.  Another time maybe, but not right now."

"Why are you trying to be so difficult?  Getting away for a while is
just what you need!  It'll help you forget about things for a while,
give you a chance to see what you're missing.  Now get packed up and
lets get going."

"Dad, I won't be going this weekend.  I have other plans, including a
basketball game tomorrow.  You two go ahead and have a good time.
I'll be just fine here by myself."

Jonathan was getting angrier by the minute at his daughter's refusal.
"Are you planning on seeing that bitch Stacy again?  I told you I
didn't want you to ever see her again!  That woman's no good.  She'll
ruin you, break your heart, then leave.  I don't want you hurt.  I'm
sure as hell not going to leave you here alone right now.  So get
packed up.  You're coming, like it or not."

Betty was also getting more than a little upset, but wanted to keep
her cool.  Let dad do the ranting and raving.  He'd have to apologize
for it later.

"No dad.  I won't be going.  I'm old enough to start making some of my
own decisions.  And no, my plans do not include going to see Stacy."

"I don't particularly care what plans you think you've made!"  He was
shouting now, having lost control.  "You're living under my roof,
eating my food, spending my money.  You'll bloody well do what you're
told! Or else!"

"Or else what?  You'll spank me?  Lock me in my room?  Ground me for a
month?  Or maybe you'll do to me what you did to mother?"

Jonathan glared at her for a few seconds, looking like he was about to
shout some more.  Then he stepped back out of her room, slamming the
door behind him.

A few minutes later she heard her dad and Patsy arguing.  They kept
their voices down for the most part, but she did hear a few shouted
phrases. "You insensitive bastard"  "Fucking bitch"  "You never loved
me!" After a while, the voices stopped, and she heard the front door
slam.

Her door opened, revealing Jonathan standing in the doorway.  He was
staring at her.  "I hope you're fucking well satisfied.  Patsy's
madder than hell at me now and it's all your fault.  It'll be ages
before she calms down enough to talk to me.  You've ruined this
weekend for all of us!  And you can bloody well stay in this room
until you're ready to apologize to both of us for the way you've
acted!"

"I don't think I have anything to apologize for.  I never lost my
temper, I never swore, I never called anybody any nasty names, and I
was perfectly civil to Patsy.  The only thing I did was not knuckle
under and do something I didn't want to."

"You listen to me.  You've gotten Patsy upset.  You've ruined our
plans and made me look like a fool in my own house.  And you don't
think you've done anything wrong?  You're grounded for a week.  Longer
if I don't get an apology.  Starting right now."

He stepped out and slammed the door behind him again.  Betty felt like
crying, but wouldn't let the tears come yet.  She needed to think.
The last time she'd seen her father this angry was just before her
mother left.  Betty wondered if her mother had felt this same way.
She needed to talk to someone right now, and the only person she
thought would be available was Joyce.

Grabbing her purse, she headed out to the front door.

"Well, are you coming out here to apologize already?"  Her father was
standing in the kitchen, staring at her.

"No dad.  I need someone to talk to so I'm going over to Joyce's for a
while."

"I told you you were grounded.  That means no going out!  Especially
to talk with that nosy witch next door!  Now get back in your room
until you're ready to apologize!"

Her dad was now standing in front of her, towering over her, shouting.
She was more afraid of him now than ever before in her life.  She was
also angry.  If she backed down now, he'd be running her life forever.
Betty thought that this was what had driven her mother out of the
house, his anger, and her need to live her own life.

"Dad, please.  Calm down.  I need to talk to somebody, and she's the
only one around.  I'll be back soon, when you've had a chance to cool
off."

"I don't need to cool off.  I see exactly what's happening!  You're
trying to do the exact same thing your mother did!  I won't let you
hurt me like that too!  Now get back in your room!"

"No dad.  I'm going next door to have a talk with Joyce."

The next thing Betty knew, she was lying on the floor with her father
standing over her.  She felt her cheek.  It was hot, raw, and starting
to sting.  Her father had a very concerned and frightened look on his
face.

"Oh my god Betty.  Are you all right?  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do
it, but you forced me.  I'll never do anything like it again.  Please,
say something!"

Betty slid away from him, still on the floor, staring up into his
eyes.  Getting to her feet, she walked to her room, not taking her
eyes off him until she closed the door.  Once there, she looked in the
mirror.  You could see the imprint of his palm and four fingers across
the left side of her face.  Her lip was cut, and it looked like she'd
have a black eye. She stood there and stared at herself for a few
minutes, her mind blank, unable to think.  A knock on the door brought
her back to reality.

"Betty?  Betty hon, are you all right?  I'd like to talk to you.
Please?"

"Don't you dare step foot in here!  Go away!  I don't ever want to see
you again!"

"You don't mean that, hon.  You have a nice sleep, and we'll talk
about this in the morning.  You'll feel a lot better.  You'll see."
His footsteps faded away down the hall.

Betty looked around her room, feeling very much alone and scared.
This is what her father was like.  Never before had she seen him hit
anyone. Now he'd hit her, because she didn't do what he wanted.  Joyce
said that he'd hit mother too.  This house felt very big and very
empty now.  Two weeks ago it was her home.  Now it was her father's
house.  He'd said so himself.  Not their house.  His house.  His food,
his money.  Possessions.  Just like his girlfriend and his wife.  And
his daughter.

Betty stared at the wall for a while.  She still loved her father,
regardless of what he'd done.  But could she ever be happy in this
house again?  Or could she even stand coming back here, knowing that
her father might hit her again?

No, she decided.  She wasn't going to let anybody beat her, not even
her father.  Staying here tonight was now out of the question.  Maybe
after a day or two to think things through, she might come back.
Probably not. Packing up as many essentials as she could in her
overnight bag, she tried to prepare herself for the confrontation with
her father.

The tight knot of fear in her stomach almost made her ill.  Her legs
were feeling weak, her knees trembling slightly, and her hands were
shaking. The adrenalin rush was wearing off.  It was finally sinking
in that dad had *hit* her.  She had to get out now, before her
resolve, or her body, failed.

Grabbing her purse and her bag, she tried for the front door.
Jonathan headed her off from the kitchen again.


**********************************************************************

<<past>>

In the fall things started getting better.  Two new teachers showed up
in the school, along with a new counselor, and several new boys were
in her classes.  A couple of them even seemed nice.  She joined the
women's basketball team, not so much because she loved basketball, but
because she wanted to keep fit.  It was fun being with the team
though, especially when she became the starter at left guard.  Sure
beat cheerleading.

She and Mr. Valdez were getting along fine now.  As long as she wasn't
in his class, she didn't mind speaking with him.  Besides, he seemed
to be a pretty nice guy now.

She found a new boyfriend, Dave.  He was quiet and a bit shy, but he
genuinely liked her for herself, not just for her good looks.  When
she got past his shyness, she realized that he was also pretty smart.
He worked out regularly and was on the track team as a middle-distance
runner, but didn't have that jock mentality.  She liked him.

They dated frequently, and every once in a while they'd go all the
way. He was decent.  Not great, but better than the others.  At least
he took time to see to her needs, not just his own.  He was also
romantic, taking her to quiet restaurants, surprising her with flowers
and other small gifts, and showing an interest in her activities.

Most of her friends would kill to have a nice guy like this.  She
liked him, but there was no spark, no sizzle, no deep-down joy in his
presence. Sometimes she felt a little cheap, like she was taking
advantage of him. This wasn't the person to make her happy for the
rest of her life.  But for here and now, he was good enough to make
her sometimes forget the emptiness that seemed to have permanently
settled inside her.

Robert and Jordan still took her out on the occasional double date.
Dave didn't like it, he was jealous, but she told him that this was
strictly a friendship thing.  She and Robert got along quite well
together and had formed a close bond.  They did finally go to another
proper show, this time seeing Showboat.  It was, in Jordan's words, 'A
Grand Performance, worthy of acclaim in any age'.

To get some real cash of her own, she got a part time job.  She was a
'P/T Assistant Stenographer' working in a law office.  It was
basically a glorified coffee-girl job, and she knew she got it on her
looks, but the pay was decent.  Her primary duty was to make and serve
coffee to all her bosses and their clients.  In her words,
'eye-candy.'  They did expect her to learn to do filing, record entry,
do some typing, open the mail, and help with the general scutwork of
the office.  It was usually interesting, sometimes fun, and the other
girls in the office treated her as a person.  She enjoyed both the job
and the money.

Jonathan arranged a special treat for the three of them, Patsy, Betty
and himself.  It was both for Christmas and for Betty's 16th birthday.
They went to Aspen, Colorado for a ski holiday, spending ten days
there, from December 23 to Jan 2.  It was fabulous.  There were all
kinds of things to do, and no end of cute studs to flirt with.  Her
skiing was so-so, but none of the guys gave two hoots about that
anyway.

It was after they got back and sorted out all the holiday mail that
she found a Christmas card addressed to her from Stacy.

It was very simple.

"Dearest Elizabeth

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

I've been thinking of you

KIndest regards, Anastasia"

Inside the card was an invitation for "Dinner at Annabella's" Stacy
had written in "Please come.  If you don't, I'll understand, and won't
bother you again."

The invitation was for 7:00 pm.  Yesterday.

She wasn't going to cry.  She would *NOT* cry.  They never had a
relationship.  Stacy never really wanted her.  It had all been her
overactive imagination.  Even if there had been something, she was
over it by now.  The only date they'd ever gone on together was a
setup.  She'd had other relationships since then, and now she had a
boyfriend.

It was only late that night, as she lay in bed, that her eyes betrayed
her by leaking again.

She could still feel the faint ghost of that kiss on her cheek.


**********************************************************************

<<present>>

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know.  Away from here for now.  I don't want to get hit
again."

"Betty, please, that was an accident.  You were being so obstinate I
lost my temper.  It'll never happen again, believe me.  So you just go
back to your room, have a good nights sleep, and we'll pretend that
tonight never happened.  Okay?"

Her temper flared now, deep and hot.  "Is that what you told mother
too?  How many times did you hit her before she finally left for good?
My limit is once.  Period.  So unless you're planning on hitting me
again, move out of the way."

"Betty, please.  I never hit your mother.  Whoever told you that was
lying. I loved her too much for that.  She left me to go live with
that slut girlfriend of hers.  I wouldn't let her do such disgusting
things while she was living here, so she moved out.  She obviously
never loved me or you, because she's never called once in the last
five years.  I love you Betty.  I don't want to lose you too."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you hit me.  I'm
probably going to end up moving in with my 'slut girlfriend' too,
because I don't have anywhere else to go.  I love you, but I can't
live here with you, afraid all the time, wondering if you'll hit me
again.  It just hurts too much.  Now please, let me go."

"Okay, I'll let you go for now.  When you change your mind and you're
ready to come back, I'll expect an apology.  You're treating me very
poorly, and you know it."

Jonathan stepped aside, and let Betty get out the front door.  She
turned to say goodbye, but when she saw the look of pain in his eyes,
couldn't say anything.  She closed the door and walked over to Joyce's
house.

The door opened after the first knock.  It seems Joyce had been
expecting her.  By the shocked look that appeared on her face, though,
she wasn't expecting what she saw.

"Betty, my poor dear, come in, come in.  What happened to you?"

Betty walked over to the kitchen table, sat down, and started to cry.

"He hit me."  That's all she said for the next while.  The tension and
anger that had been keeping her going for the last little while melted
away under the heartache she felt.

Joyce handed her some tissues (she always had lots) and murmured some
soothing nonsense into her ears.  Getting up, she prepared some herbal
tea that would help Betty sleep later.  She also made a telephone
call. Then she made up an ice pack and placed it over Betty's cheek.

It took her quite some time to work the story out of Betty, after
she'd slowed down on her crying.  The young girl was just finishing up
when there was a knock on the door.  Joyce looked out the window first
to see who it was, then opened the door.  It was Stacy, looking very
rushed, like she'd just gotten out of bed (she had - the phone call
woke her up).

Betty just looked blankly at Stacy for a few seconds, until the girl
pulled her up into a big hug.  "Stacy?  Oh, Stacyyyy...."  and started
crying all over again.  Stacy walked Betty into the front room and
pulled the girl down into her lap as she sat on the chesterfield.
Joyce followed them in, sitting down on a chair, and repeated as much
of the story as she knew.

Betty felt a lot better after she'd finished crying.  Stacy was here,
and Stacy still loved her.  She could face almost anything with her
support.

"Okay, Little Blossom.  Feeling better?  Want to talk about it?"

Betty had heard Joyce fill Stacy in on most of the details, so she
wouldn't have to repeat the whole story.

"He hurt me."  They all knew she wasn't talking about the physical
pain. "I don't want to be hurt like that again.  I don't think I can
go back there, knowing he might do it again."


**********************************************************************

<<past>>

When Betty awoke, it was to thoughts of Stacy.  Her vaguely remembered
dreams also had Stacy in them, though they faded fast.  Her head felt
thick and cottony, and her eyes were puffy.  She'd been crying in her
sleep.  A slow chant ran through her mind that day, over and over
again.  "I'm over Stacy.  There's nothing left.  There never was.
It's gone."  Every once in a while a tiny voice could be heard, far in
the background, saying just one word.  "Ha!"

The next day was worse, and the day after that worse still.  It was
driving her up the wall.  Finally she realized that the only way she'd
be able to get over this would be to own up to her feelings.  She'd
have to see Stacy, face to face.  One way or the other, she'd know,
and could then deal with it honestly.  How to see her?  And when?  A
vague plan started to form.  She'd face Stacy on Stacy's turf, but on
her own terms.  She'd need help.

First, Stacy's phone number.  It had disappeared during the cleanup of
all the tutoring stuff.  Her number wasn't in the telephone book.
Well, hopefully Ms. Flanders would still have it.  That would have to
wait for school tomorrow.  She'd ask first thing in the morning.

Second, where.  Annabella's obviously.  It was the one place she kept
thinking of.  At least they were in the white pages.  Odd that they
weren't in the yellow pages.

Third, when.  Now, and get it over with?  No, she'd need time to think
this through properly.  So would Stacy.  What would Stacy's reaction
be?  That Christmas card could be interpreted in too many different
ways.  All she could do is wait and see.

Fourth, how.  Betty couldn't just call her and invite her out.  She
just wasn't brave enough for that.  It would have to be done through
someone else.  Who?  The only people they knew in common were Robert
and Jordan.  No, she couldn't get them involved.  Annabella's?  The
same way Stacy'd tried?  Well, only if they could guarantee that Stacy
would be personally contacted.  She'd also have to make sure Stacy
could cancel through them, if she didn't want to get together.

There was enough money in her bank account so she could afford to do
this properly.  She hoped.


Getting Stacy's telephone number from Ms. Flanders was easy - and
quite embarrassing.  She told the V.P. that she wanted it because her
friend was looking for a tutor, and she'd heard that Stacy was good.
Ms. Flanders stared at Betty until she blushed and dropped her eyes to
the floor.  "Riiiiiight.  Here's her number.  Tell your ... friend ...
to put it somewhere safe, okay?"


Setting up dinner was a lot more complicated.

Since Betty wasn't a member, she had to go down in person to set
things up and pay in advance.  The only reason she'd be allowed to do
it is because Stacy was a member.  Without Stacy's agreement, dinner
would be off.  Betty gave them her own full name, address, and
telephone number before going down to meet with Diana, who would be
arranging things.

Lucky for her the meeting was set for 4:00 pm, early enough that she
wouldn't need to make up any excuses for dad.

Diana was a friendly young lady, in her early twenties, dressed in a
pink version of the dress everyone there seemed to wear.  It turns out
she usually split her time between doing memberships and organizing
dinners and being a hostess.  (Hostess?  But Jacklyn said she was a
host?)  She led Betty into the membership office (oversized broom
closet) and sat at her desk.  Betty perched in one of the two guest
chairs.  There wasn't much else in there except for one big filing
cabinet and a computer.  Not enough room for any more.

"All right Elizabeth.  Before we start with the arrangements, I'd like
to get something straightened out.  I thought you said you weren't a
member."

This earned her a rather puzzled look from Betty.  "I'm not.  I've
only ever been here once, and that was with someone else."

Diana did some typing on her computer.  "Elizabeth Brust.  Same
address, same telephone number, membership application received and
approved four years ago, applicant age twelve, physical description
seems to match after allowing for the age difference, three valid
referrals given then, one given recently, and also a notarized release
form from a legal parent. It certainly looks like you're a member."

"Four years ago?  When I was twelve?  Who would sign me up in a
restaurant that I'd never been in before in my life?"

"Elizabeth, this isn't just a restaurant. It's ...  ack.  Well, I
can't give you the names on the referrals, they're always
confidential, but I can tell you that the application and release
forms were signed by Marion Brust, relationship, Mother."

"Why the heck would mom sign me up here?"

"If you're asking me, I could only make guesses.  You should ask her
that."

"I haven't seen my mother in years."

"Oh, I'm sorry.  I didn't know.  But according to our records, you are
a member in good standing, with all due privileges.  So, back to
business.  You said something about wanting to set up a dinner with
someone?"

"Yes.  Anastasia Augden.  But I can't invite her myself.  I need
someone else to do that for me, and to see if she wants to come.
That's part of the reason I'm here.  I was hoping you could help me."

"Why can't you ask her yourself?  Oh, sorry.  I didn't mean to pry
into personal matters.  Of course I'd be glad to help."

By this time Betty was blushing, feeling quite embarrassed about
revealing even this much to anyone.  At least Diana was a stranger.

"What type of evening did you have in mind?  A meal, a full dinner, or
desserts and coffee?"

"I was hoping for a really nice dinner.  How much would it cost?"

"If you go for the evening dinner, that's $125 for two.  Two meals
would run from $50 to $100, depending on what you ordered and had to
drink."

Some thoughts flickered through Betty's mind.  'Ouch!  It IS expensive
here.  Is this really worth it?  The only way I'll ever know ...'

"What's included with the dinner?"

"Aperitif, Appetizer, soup/salad, main course, dessert, coffee/tea,
and two half-litres of any of the house wines.  Drinks or any other
wines are additional.  The main course is your choice of the chef's
two or three specials for the day."

"I think that's what we'll have."

"All right, and when will this be for?"

"Saturday after next, the twenty-first."

"No problem.  The main course is usually ready around eight, so most
people arrive between six-thirty and seven."

"Okay.  Can I reserve a specific table for this?"

"Ummm, usually not, but in this case, I'll try to make an exception.
Which table would you like?"

"Well, I don't really remember where it is.  Like I said, I've only
been here once.  I do remember it's a long way from the entrance and
near a bar.  A table for two with an 'L' shaped booth seat."

"Let's go find it."

They found the table without much trouble.  Betty asked how much
desserts and coffee cost, describing what they'd had that evening.
"How long ago was that?  Early last spring?  And you've hardly spoken
to her since?  That must have been a memorable evening."

It had cost Stacy around thirty dollars to treat Betty that night so
long ago.  Two night's tutoring fees.

Back in the office Diana did some typing on her computer, then said
she might as well call Anastasia right away.

"Please, don't let her know I'm here.  Tell her that I ... well, that
I was unavailable for her last invitation.  I don't want any type of
misunderstandings for this one.  She'll understand."

"All right.  Is this some sort of birthday surprise for her?"

"Birthday?  It's her birthday?"

"You didn't know?  According to the computer, her birthday is the
twentieth."

"No, I didn't know.  And no, it has nothing to do with her birthday."

Diana called up Stacy on the telephone.  Betty listened to half of the
conversation.

"Hello, Anastasia? ... This is Diana, from Annabella's. ... Yes, the
restaurant.  I've got an invitation here for you for dinner from a
young lady named Elizabeth. ... Yes, Elizabeth ...  Elizabeth Brust.
She seemed to know you ... You'll be here?  But I haven't told you
when yet ... Oh, I see, it doesn't matter, you'll be here anyway.
It's set for Saturday the twenty-first, at six thirty ... You'll be
here and to hell with the party ... Uh huh.  Elizabeth also asked me
to tell you that she was unavailable for your last invitation, and she
wanted us to contact you personally so there'd be no
misunderstandings.  I don't know what that's about, but she said you'd
understand ...  Anastasia?  Are you all right?  Anastasia? ... No, no,
that's quite all right.  No apologies are necessary.  I'll inform
Elizabeth that you'll be here ...  You're quite welcome ... No,
Anastasia, no trouble at all ... You're welcome.  Goodbye."

"Yes, that must have been some memorable evening you had.  I can see
why you didn't want to call her yourself."

"Diana, that evening, we'd been studying.  She brought me here and we
had coffees and desserts.  Then she dropped me off at home.  That's
all that happened."

"All right.  I won't pry any further.  Anastasia certainly seemed,
well, happy about the invitation."

Following that, Betty wrote out a check for payment, adding in a
generous tip, and went home.  Now that dinner was set, and she
couldn't back down, she was feeling excited, and, yes, she dreaded it
too.  Why had Stacy sent her that invitation?  And why couldn't she
get that girl out of her mind?

Time seemed to stand still.


**********************************************************************

<<present>>

"Don't worry," Joyce said.  "You don't have to go back there.  There
are too many people that love you for you to have to go back.  We'll
work something out, you'll see.  Besides, there's always a silver
lining no matter how bad things look.  Just think, you could move in
with Stacy now.  I'm sure you'd both wish it was under better
circumstances, but what the heck.  Or you could stay with me for a few
days, or stay with another friend somewhere, or get a motel room and
stay away from everyone for a while."

"That's right, Betty, it's your choice."  Stacy started nibbling on
Betty's ear, which happened to be almost in the older girl's mouth
anyway.  "Of course, I know which choice I'd like."

"Stacy, please, we've got an audience."  She blushed.

"That's all right, dearie, it's nothing I haven't seen before.  Don't
forget, I have been around a while."

A sudden thought crossed Betty's mind, popping out of nowhere, making
her wonder.

"Joyce, were you ever mom's lover?"

"Heavens, where did that come from?"  She smiled, and almost giggled.
"No, child, I was never your mother's lover.  She hinted that she was
willing, once or twice, after moving away from your father, but that
sort of thing wasn't really for me.  I'm too old-fashioned to change
my tastes.  Besides, your mother had a lover already."

"Now don't go giving me any funny looks either.  I don't think there's
anything wrong with what you two are doing.  I'm not ashamed or
embarrassed by it.  I think you make the cutest couple of lovebirds
I've seen in a long time.  Enough of this, or I'll start crying too."

"Joyce, you said you could maybe let me talk with my mother.  Could I
do that now?"

"I'd love to, hon, but she's gone for the weekend on business.  Won't
be back until monday afternoon.  We'll call then.  I don't want to
give you the number because I promised your mother I'd never give it
out to anyone, especially if there was any chance your father could
get hold of it.  She went through a lot of trouble to make sure he
couldn't trace her down."

"Just to make you feel a little better, though, there's one more
person in on this conspiracy.  You can call on him for help if
necessary. Betty, you've never met him before, but Stacy has.  His
name is Walter."

Now Stacy was confused.  "Walter?  I don't know any Walter."  She was
running through all her friends in town and all the people she knew
from the university, but there was no Walter that stood out.

"Sure you do.  Walter."  Seeing the puzzled look still there, she
added "Walter.  The guy that sends you money every month."

"Walter?  You mean daddy?  My father?"  Somehow, she was having a hard
time grasping this.  "I've never told him anything.  I mean, he lives
clear across the state.  How would he know anything about this?"

"You may find this strange, but it's a very small world we live in.
Your father and Betty's mother actually dated for a while in
high-school. They bumped into each other about a year ago and became
friends again.  After talking about their lives and their families for
a while (what Marion was willing to discuss, anyway) he mentioned that
his daughter Stacy was going to college in this town.  Your mother
said that she hadn't seen you in years, but knew that you had a close
friend named Stacy and that your name was Betty.  Now you have
mentioned Betty to your father a few times, just not in any detail.
They both thought it odd, so your mother called me and asked for
Stacy's last name."

"Augden"  said Betty and Stacy together.

"Right.  Your mother had already told him of her prior female lovers
and had hinted that her daughter was probably involved with another
woman too, long before either of them had made the connection that
they were both talking about the same people when discussing their
daughters and their daughters' friends.  That's when she asked Walt if
he could keep a secret.  She figured that he'd be better off if she
laid it all out immediately, rather than him finding out for sure
later.  He agreed, stating that he would keep it as long as it wasn't
going to hurt his daughter.  She thought that was fair, so she filled
him in on everything, including how I was fairly certain you two were
lovers."

"According to your mother, that stunned him.  She didn't see him for
several days, and when she did, he wouldn't talk to her about you two.
Instead, he started asking her about her relationship with Diana.  Now
your mother wasn't living with Diana anymore, but had mentioned her to
Walt."

"Mom and Diana aren't together anymore?"

"No, and you'd better talk to her about it personally.  She'd be
better at explaining it than I would.  Anyway, Walt questioned Marion
about her relationship with Diana several times.  I guess he got the
answers he was looking for, because he gradually came to accept the
fact that his daughter might be dating another woman.  I'm still not
sure he believed it, but he no longer seemed as upset."

"So that's how you managed to find me at that motel.  I thought the
only person who knew where I'd gone to stay was my father."

"That's right.  I wormed it out of him.  I figured the breaking point
was coming up fast, and you two should at least know how you felt
about each other before anything else happened.  I almost messed that
up by being too late."

"I'm going to have a long talk with daddy, real soon."  Stacy never
had spoken openly about her sexuality with her father.  He was one of
the old-fashioned types who believed in family values, and a woman's
place was in the home.  He let her go to university figuring that it
was probably one of the best places in the world to meet eligible
young men.  "Now that he knows, and seems to be used to the idea,
maybe I can talk to him about how I feel."

"That's probably a good idea.  But save it for later.  Right now, it's
time to sort out what Betty will be doing, at least for the next few
days.  You're welcome to stay here for a couple of nights if you like,
but I think it may be just a little too close to your father for your
peace of mind.  I'm going to go make some fresh tea and fix myself a
snack.  Anyone else hungry?"

"No thanks", Stacy replied.  "I ate just before I crashed, not too
long before you called."

"Yes please.  I'm starved."  At the mention of food, Betty's stomach
reminded her that she'd missed dinner.

"Okay, I'll be back in a while."  She got up and left the two of them
alone in the living room.

**********************************************************************

<<End of chapter 4>>

Next chapter
<<present>> The decision, what to do what to do
<<past>>    The dinner, another dessert date with conversation,
            the giveaway


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