Good Year For The Roses

Andorra the girls and I, tried to ignore the stares and continued with the rest of our meal as best we could.

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"It looks like the grass wasn't as green as it looked!" Andorra whispered to me as we trailed along behind the two girls as they skipped their way to the car.

"What do you mean by that?" I replied, maybe a bit more curtly than I intended.

"I should imagine it's pretty safe to assume that she isn't with Ronald anymore if she's working here."

"Probably one of them cheated on the other. They say once a cheat always a cheat." I replied.

"But she didn't cheat on you; the silly bitch just walked out on you and Otterley."

"You can't be trying to kid me that they didn't consummate their relationship before the divorce went through. And besides, walking out on your daughter is tantamount to cheating in my book. You can bet that either she couldn't keep her legs crossed or he couldn't keep it in his pants."

"Does it matter?"

"No, providing she doesn't try to cause trouble here and now. Otterley was confused enough as it was, she doesn't really need to be put through any more turmoil."

"She's far too late to try anything like that Pete. Besides I think Otterley handled it far better than you did really. After all it was the girls who..."

"Don't say it, Andorra; I know exactly what the little tykes did, and am I pleased that we do have a couple of manipulative little minxes. Although just sometimes I have to wonder how far their manipulations really went."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh nothing really, but it was obvious they were working to a plan. Sometimes I wonder how far in advance they'd laid the thing. Don't worry I couldn't be more pleased than I am with the outcome, I just get curious sometimes."

We'd arrived at the car by then, I'd unlocked the doors with the remote as we approached and the children had jumped in the rear seats. I opened the nearside front door and held it for Andorra. But she didn't get in; instead she stepped close to me, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

Whoops and shouts of encouragement came from the two little devils sitting in the rear of the car. Followed by comments like "Not in public!" and "Can't you two wait until you get to your room!"

Some folks might figure that they were pretty disrespectful and forward comments to come from two fourteen-year-olds. But both our daughters were very mature for their age. Christ they'd had to grow up fast! Andorra had lost her husband when Rachel was six and she'd struggled along as a single parent for years.

Otterley had watched her mother walk out on us and - all but publicly - disown her when she was eight. An occurrence that I didn't handle too well, I can assure you; but my daughter -- with Rachel's assistance - had risen to the occasion of someone far more mature in years.

Very suddenly Andorra broke the kiss and stepped back a little.

"We've got an audience!" she whispered looking over my shoulder.

I looked around and saw that Margery was standing in what I assumed was the kitchen doorway watching us.

"Do you think that Otterley should...?" Andorra suggested.

"Yeah, I don't think we've really got much choice." I found myself replying. I knew full well I'd have had to come back later to speak to or rather confront Margery, and that would most likely have lead to us arranging for Otterley to see her mother in private. To be honest it was too good an opportunity to miss, it would get that side of things out of the way anyway.

"Otterley." Andorra who was leaning into the car - was saying, whilst I was still thinking. "Your mothers over there, I think you need to go see her."

"Do I have to?" Otterley replied.

"She's your mother, Otterley. Now please do as we ask, or in years to come when you are older, you might be very sad that you missed the opportunity."

Otterley shrugged and began to climb out of the car. "I don't want to see her, can't Rachel come with me?"

"No we are just here; we won't be out of your sight." Andorra assured her.

Eventually having climbed out of the car and with a marked reluctance in her step -- and looking back at us dejectedly several times - Otterley walked towards her mother, stopping about ten feet short of her.

Margery obviously said something -- which we couldn't hear - and took a step towards her, but Otterley promptly took a step backwards.

It was a little frustrating that we couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, not that I think Otterley said very much anyway. The point we noticed was that if Margery moved towards Otterley at all, the child retreated.

"This is not good." Andorra mumbled, I believe so that Rachel wouldn't overhear her.

But almost as she said so Otterley turned and ran back to the car and without a word jumped into her seat, slammed the door and began to fasten her seatbelt. When I looked back the doorway where Margery had been stood was empty, I assumed she'd gone back inside.

I would have preferred to have got in the car and got the hell out of there, but Andorra had a different plan she must have been halfway to that door before Otterley had the seat belt secured. So I stood there like a lemon for ten minutes until Andorra returned.

I gave Andorra a questioning look when she finally climbed back into the car. I got one of those looks in return, where Andorra was ostensibly looking at me but her eyes gave a quick flick towards the two girls in the rear seat. The message was shut up and drive, we'll discuss it later.

The plan that afternoon was to take a hike along a path beside the river and see the falls the town was named after. We kind-a got the impression the hydroelectric installations had stolen some of their original grandeur, but they were impressive anyway. As usual on these strolls -- Andorra and I never overdid the hiking bit if we could help it -- the two girls drifted off in the lead and that allowed Andorra and I to talk.

"So, what did she say?"

"He's gone, ditched her two years ago when he picked up some waitress in town here."

"Much as we'd guessed. But I wonder why she hasn't she gone home to the UK?"

"He buggered off and left her holding the Motel bill. The motel was short of staff in the restaurant so she figured she might as well stay and work the bill off. Apparently she shares a room with some other woman. Anyway they both work in the restaurant during the day and serve drinks in the bar over-the-road at night."

"Sounds like fun!"

"What else has she got to do, Pete?"

"Gets herself laid every night by some bar fly I suppose."

"There's no need to be nasty, Peter. Margery made a mistake and now she appears to be paying the price. Anyway you're meeting her when she finishes her stint in the restaurant at six. She's only got a couple of hours before she has to be on duty at the bar, so you can have a chat whilst I take the children somewhere else to eat.

"Andorra what the hell have I got to say to her?"

"You need closure, Peter; whatever you believe. You need to sit down and talk to her... and remember that she is Otterley's mother."

"Pity she didn't remember that?"

"Margery's words exactly, Peter. She regrets what she did and I believe she'd like to apologise to Otterley as well as you. Unfortunately I don't think Otterley's ready to accept that apology yet; that was obvious from what happened at lunchtime. But in time, I'm sure she will; we'll just have to make sure that we don't lose track of her again."

"You take a magnanimous view of all this, considering what Tony did to you?"

Pete, is there any point in going through life with hate in our hearts all the time? What Tony did to me could be considered worse than what Margery did to you... and Otterley even. You know for a while I hated him and the other women he'd conned into marrying him as well. Then one day we were all sitting there in the waiting room at the police station and I realised we were all in the same boat. We'd all been conned, and none of us was to blame; so we made friends."

"Tony! Well what was the point in wasting my time cursing the bugger? If he ever shows up, I'll rat on the sod to the police as soon as I get the chance; but I'm not going to waste my time or emotions hating him. I've got more important people to worry about!" Andorra pulled me close and kissed me on the cheek. "And besides... Think about it, if Margery hadn't run off with what's his name, where would we be now?"

"Good point Andorra!"

"I know it is my love."

"We better get cracking then it's gone four now."

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I was waiting in the restaurant car park when Margery came off duty. She came out with another very dark-haired women who studied me closely before she went on her own way. Margery looked nervous, not the confident woman I'd last seen laying the law down in the kitchen all those years before. Although she still looked pretty attractive.

"Hi Peter, thanks for coming. The bar should be quiet at this time of day, shall we go over there and talk?"

I'd avoided speaking in reply, but gestured for her to take the lead.

I followed Margery to a booth at the rear of the bar, it was fairly obvious that we were expected, I'd noted the dark haired woman sitting at the bar talking to the barman as we entered; I'd also noted that the booths near to our one were all empty as well.

The dark-haired woman followed us over and placed two beers on the table, then said something to Margery, in Spanish I believe. Whatever Margery just nodded in reply; I had to assume she'd picked up the language whilst she'd been on her travels.

"You wanted to see me Margery! I said reminding her that I hadn't asked for this meeting.

"I... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, Peter." She eventually whispered. I only just caught her words.

"I'm not; you did me a great favour!" I replied. Come on, I'm not cut out to be a bleeding diplomat.

"Yeah Andorra did get the best end of the deal; I should have realised that she'd get her hooks into you the moment I was gone." She replied bitterly.

"It was the other way around Margery, once I clapped eyes on Andorra..." I'm not exactly sure how I had intended to complete that sentence. Maybe I was thinking that had I met Andorra before Margery had left, it might have been me who did the walking act. Wishful thinking maybe, but somehow I doubt that I would have done; I'm the kind of guy who's too tied up in duty and that sort of thing, or to have acted so selfishly.

One wonders "sometimes" whether that could be a failing?

"What happened to lover-boy anyway," I found myself asking Margery "And just where did the bugger get all his money from? You know he left his wife and kids without a penny, so she had all his bank accounts seized.

"Ronald's money, that's a laugh! Everyone else's money you mean, he was a con artist Peter; he's wanted all over the place. I wouldn't be surprised if that's why he dumped me in the end; I helped him with some of his cons and, well... we had to skip out of Argentina a bit quick, when my picture was in the local newspapers down there."

"I think he nipped over the border into Canada when he got wind that the FBI had turned up at the Motel here looking for him. Just by coincidence, with one of the waitresses from the Diner. What you might call ironic isn't it, now I'm doing that bleeding waitresses job!"

"Weren't the FBI after you as well?"

"No... well yes really, but I did a deal with them. As long as I'm prepared to give evidence against Ronald, when they get their hands on him, then they have agreed not to throw the book at me. And in return, I got my hand smacked; two years probation for assisting a fugitive to escape or some nonsense like that. Mind you, I'm pretty well stuck in the country until they do find the bugger; and I have to report to the authorities every week or so. But that's not too much of a bind, because Buster, the deputy who I report to, is in here or the diner most days."

"Are you still in debt?"

"I was up to my eyes in it. Like a prune, I signed for just about everything including the hire car Ronald and that bitch took off in. I've nearly cleared it all, but there's still a couple of thousand dollars owing. No Pete I can't!" Margery had seen me pulling my chequebook out.

"For once in your life do as you're told, Margery! Right, I'll make this out for five thousand quid, that's getting on for ten thousand dollars, that should clear your debts and give you something to fall back on, if you need it. If you decide you want to return to the UK in the future, when and if they catch the bugger, then we'll help you find somewhere and get settled. But don't think this gives you the right to try and step in and mess up our family. Oh and you know the courts removed all your parental rights concerning Otterley don't you?"

"She made that very clear to me this morning!"

"Oh I'm sorry, that isn't what we sent her over for."

"So I understood when Andorra came into the kitchen. Pete, I was stupid... I really never mean to hurt you and Otterley like that. I don't know, I just seemed to get lost in all Ronald's exciting stories. It wasn't very exciting, I can assure you!"

"Margery that was all a long time ago. Truthfully I'm just pleased to find you safe and well. But Otterley and I have a new life now and I'm afraid you're not part of it anymore. Although Andorra and I will try to make sure that Otterley stays in touch with you."

"That's more than I deserve, Peter; and I really don't deserve this cheque."

"Well you'd better take it; it'll ease my conscience a little when we leave here tomorrow. We'll come to the diner for breakfast in the morning; perhaps we can have another go at getting Otterley to speak to you civilly."

"I don't deserve the kindness you're showing me, Peter."

"No you don't, Margery!" I had to speak my mind even if I'd tried to convince myself not to. "But you're Otterley's mother and there's sod-all I can do about that. Now, if you don't mind I'd like to get back to my family?"

"Sure, I'm sorry, Pete."

I got up and left without looking back.

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When I tracked the girls down, you could say that everyone was waiting for me with bated breath; well, I think that's the right expression. I took Andorra aside and gave her a quick run down on my conversation with Margery and told her about the cash I'd given her.

"She doesn't deserve you!" Was the only comment Andorra made when I mentioned the Cheque.

"She almost said the same thing." I replied kissing my wife. "But you do!"

"Thank you," was all she replied to that comment.

A little later I collared Otterley alone and I was just about to begin on the "You've only got one birth mother routine," when she informed me that Andorra and Rachel had already been there. From then on, the conversation didn't go as I intended

Otterley informed me she'd now be happy to speak with her mother the following morning and that she'd also try to keep a civil tongue in her head. Although she added the proviso that she would not be alone with her mother, Rachel or I would have to be there with her. When I enquired as to why, I was curtly informed that one of us had always been there during the fun times. I'm not sure what I made of that statement; I let it pass without comment.

They -- Margery, Otterley and Rachel - sat at a nearby table and talked for a long time the following morning. I can only assume that Margery's friends covered for her because I'm sure she was supposed to be working. About the only part of the conversation Andorra and I overheard were the two children raving on about how well the Roses were doing in the garden back at home. Whatever, all three had smiles on their faces most of the time.

As we left, Margery walked to the car with us and kissed both girls good-bye. Then she turned to Andorra and I. "Those two are very lucky; they've found themselves the best mother and father in the world." She said, somewhat taking me by surprise, then turned and ran back inside the restaurant. I do believe she'd started crying as she ran.

I kissed my wife, then we got into the car and headed north for the border, and Calgary.

From watching them in the rear-view mirror as best a could, I don't think either of the children looked back, or particularly perturbed that we'd left that town for behind.

Life goes on

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Epilogue

After we got home that year, Margery stayed in touch; Andorra got into the habit of writing to her quite regularly I believe. We never did find out whether Ronald was ever tracked down by the FBI. But we did get the news, less than a year later that Margery was going to marry her deputy sheriff, or whatever he was.

We had a family meeting and after a lot of soul searching, it was decided that we'd turn down the family invitation to attend Margery's wedding. But I managed to slip over there on my own for a few days to attend. Don't ask me why, for some reason it was something that I felt I had to do.

Buster - or Buddy as everyone seemed to call him -- turned out to be a really nice guy, once I got to know the bugger. He even picked me up from the airport and introduced me to all his friends and family.

One thing I found out from Buddy was that Margery had been very straight and open with him form the beginning. She'd admitted everything she'd done and told him how much she regretted the choices she'd made in the past. It transpired that Buddy had arranged for some of his truck driving pals to post her Christmas cards etcetera, to us from various different towns in Canada. I believe that Margery was trying to the hide true circumstances she found herself living in from us.

It is just a little bit weird, giving your own ex-wife away at her wedding, but I suppose some idiot had to do the job. Maybe that's why I went, it kind-of put a closure on everything?

I don't believe that Otterley and Rachel worked out where I went for those five days, but they might have done; those two always were one step ahead on me on just about everything... and well... if I'm being honest, they and Andorra still are!

Over the next few years we received the news that Margery had given birth to two boys. Although we have never seen them, except for in photographs. Now that they are a little old I believe that the boys are in touch with Otterley and Racal on a fairly regular basis, but neither of my daughters mention them or Margery to me very often.

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Otterley and Rachel married two brothers eventually. Actually sometimes I feel really sorry for the poor sods. The girls are still unbelievably tight with each other and definitely call all the shots in those marriages. When our two girls get to scheming together, it takes some kind of a man to come out on top. I don't think I ever did.

Both have two children each, and - suspiciously to my way of thinking - on both occasions the girls gave birth in close remarkably proximity to each other, date wise and physically. Andorra and I have enjoyed watching our grandchildren grow to be so much like their mothers'.

I retired last year as managing director, and Andorra and I are now enjoying an eight-month world cruise. We were wondering whether we'd spot anywhere we fancied settling down. But to be honest, I think our daughters and their families will draw us back home to the UK again.

We didn't sell the house; the girls wouldn't let us because of the roses. God knows how much time they spend around there looking after the things, but we get regular reports. Only this morning when I was checking my email and I received a picture of my garden from them entitled. "It's Been a Good Year For The Roses!"