Chapter Twenty-Six

"You know, you didn't really have to wear long pants," Abby said, sparing a smile at Clancy on the way to the airport the next day.

"You've got on a dress, and I'm supposed to go in shorts?" Clancy asked. "Are you mad?"

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Abby asked sympathetically. "And come to think of it, where did you get those pants? Did you buy new clothes?"

"Yes," she said, grimacing. "I didn't want to wear those nice crepe ones I bought, and the only other long pants I have are jeans. I thought I could always use a nice pair of navy blue poplin."

Giving her another look, Abby asked, "That's a new blouse, too, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'm trying to at least look my age," she said. "Am I close?"

"You look wonderful. Really. My parents aren't into that dress-to-impress thing, anyway."

"You're wearing a dress," Clancy pointed out.

"Oh. Right." She grinned widely. "But it's a sundress. Practically a swimsuit cover-up."

"Uh-huh. I'd like to see the fool who wears a pink linen dress over a wet swimsuit." She took Abby's hand and gave it a kiss. "You look luscious, by the way. Very East Coast preppy. I like that about you."

"Well, Mom's a Mainer through and through. I guess I adopted the preppy look from her."

"I love the way you dress. Reminds me of the Kennedys, but sexy."

"Jackie or Rose?" Abby asked, winking at her.

"Who's Rose?" Clancy asked, looking blank for a moment before she chuckled evilly. "Gotcha!"

They waited at the baggage carousels for what seemed to Clancy like an eternity, but was probably less than twenty minutes. She paced like a caged beast, with Abby watching her, a wry half-smile on her face.

"It'll be fine," she said for the fourth time.

"Easy for you to say - they have to like you!"

"Where's the confident Clancy O'Connor I find so sexy?"

"How can you talk about sex when your parents are going to be here at any minute?" Clancy whispered loudly.

"You're going to be pleasantly surprised," she said. "If they hated the ground you walked on, you'd never know. Trust me on this - if nothing else, they're amazingly polite."

"Well, that's something," Clancy allowed, making Abby smile at her grumpiness.

The plane was announced, and when the luggage started to careen down the chute Clancy grabbed Abby and pressed a kiss to her mouth. "Just in case they ground you and won't let you go out with me again," she said dramatically.

Abby grasped her hand and tugged her over to the escalator that would admit the debarking passengers. She laced their fingers together and held on tight, despite Clancy's attempts to pull away. "Unh-uh," she insisted, putting the linked hands to her lips and gently kissing Clancy's hand. "You're mine. I'm not letting you get away."

Clancy rolled her eyes, but let herself be kept, finding herself reassured by the grasp of Abby's cool, dry hand.

Abby's eyes lit up with delight as a handsome, older couple appeared at the top of the escalator. "Mom, Dad!" she called out to catch their attention. Wide smiles graced both faces, and Clancy felt some of her unease dissipate when she saw nothing but warm affection from the pair. They approached, and each gave Abby a robust hug, allowing Clancy to spend a moment assessing them. Abby's mom was actually a little taller than her daughter, and very impressive looking. She had very broad shoulders and a substantial chest, which narrowed to slim hips and remarkably long legs. Her hair was snow white, and her blue eyes were nearly identical to Abby's. Her jaw was even stronger, and her eyes were set deeper, giving her a very intent, focused look. There was no mistaking that this woman was Abby's mother, but there was also something very dissimilar about them.

Taking a long look at Abby's father, however, snapped the puzzle pieces into place. He was at least five inches shorter than his wife, and what little hair he had was cropped so short it looked like silver peach fuzz. His eyes were also blue, but didn't have the vivid sparkle of his child's. The real similarity between him and his offspring was in their body styles. Abby looked like a slightly taller, distaff version of her father: with defined, but not overly broad shoulders; a long, lean frame; and serviceable, but not bulky musculature. He looked like an athlete, a swimmer perhaps - like his daughter. Their skin tones were similar, too - with the man's skin bearing an even tan that made him appear healthy and vibrant.

"Mom, Dad," Abby said, "this is Clancy O'Connor … my …" She paused and gave Clancy an adorably puzzled look. "Girlfriend?" she finished tentatively.

"Not bad," Clancy said, returning the smile.

She extended her hand, and the older woman said, "Elizabeth Tudor. And this is my husband, Philip."

"It's good to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Tudor," Clancy began, but Elizabeth waved off her attempt at formality.

"Elizabeth and Philip, please, Clancy."

"Will do," she said. "How was your flight?"

"The same as all of them," Elizabeth said. "Flying is the only time in my life that I hope to be bored."

"I'm glad you were bored," Abby said, giving her mother a warm hug. "I really missed you both this summer."

"You couldn't have been too lonely," Elizabeth said. "This is the only summer you haven't come to visit."

"Oh, I missed you," Abby insisted. "I just wanted you to come home sooner."

"Well, we're here now. You'll have to come for twice as long next summer. Have you ever been to Maine, Clancy?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, I never have. I've always wanted to go, though."

"We're there from April to October. You and Abby are welcome at any time."

This is not going half bad, Clancy reassured herself as she smiled at the older woman. Not bad at all.

When they neared the car, Philip gave Abby a look and asked, "When did you get this, honey?"

"About an hour ago," she said, popping the locks on the Mercedes SUV. "It's Maria's. I got a new car, but it only seats two comfortably." At her father's raised eyebrow, she said, "Midlife crisis, Dad. A hot car and a younger woman."

"I haven't seen the car," he said, "but you did pretty well in the younger woman department."

Clancy blushed under the weight of his teasing, making her all the more adorable.

"The car's not half as cute," Abby assured him, making even the tips of Clancy's ears color.

When they arrived at their home, the Tudors let out twin sighs of relief. "I miss Pasadena when we're in Maine, and I miss Maine when we're in Pasadena," Elizabeth said. "My two favorite places on earth." A smiling, rotund, black woman opened the front door, and both members of the older couple greeted her warmly. "Frances! Now I know I'm home!" Elizabeth cried as she wrapped her arms around the woman.

"As usual, Frances," Abby said dryly, "your greeting was more enthusiastic than mine."

"I cook better than you do," the woman said, giving Abby a hug.

"Clancy," Abby said, "this is Frances Adams, the only woman who can get away with slapping my butt."

Clancy knew that wasn't true, but she decided this wasn't the time to argue. "Hi," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Clancy O'Connor."

"Welcome," Frances said, giving her a friendly smile. She chuckled and said, "Listen to me! I sound like I live here!"

Deciding to inquire about the living arrangements at a later time, Clancy just returned her smile and walked into the entryway.

The house was a very large, Spanish-influenced, two-story stucco home - probably built in the 1920's, by Clancy's estimate. This section of Pasadena, close to the Cal Tech campus, was developed at around that time - when Pasadena was becoming the address for wealthy businessmen and attorneys who traveled into Los Angeles every day.

"Your home is fantastic," Clancy said, looking around at the large, airy, well-laid-out rooms. "Have you lived here long?"

"Not in the scheme of things," Philip said. "But probably a long time in your view. We moved here in 1978."

"Yeah, just when they got rid of me," Abby said. "They waited until I was engaged to get the cool house."

"Abby grew up in a perfectly decent house within walking distance of her school," Elizabeth informed Clancy. "Don't fall for that 'poor me' routine."

"That's true," Abby said, "but this place is a lot nicer than our old house."

"We had substantially more money when we bought this," Elizabeth said. "Those two things go hand in hand. Besides, you moved into a house that most people only dream about when you should have still been in college. Most girls aren't given a house like that, are they Clancy?"

"I'm almost thirty and living in a small apartment in South Pas," she admitted. "My only real furniture is a futon. So, no, I'd say Abby's experience isn't common."

"A futon?" Philip asked, cocking his head.

"Yes," Clancy said. "It's the world's most uncomfortable couch. Its best feature is that it folds out into the world's most uncomfortable bed. It gives you two pieces of furniture in one - but you don't want to use either one of 'em."

"It's not that bad," Abby said. "I was only in traction for a few days after I slept on it for the first time." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in her daughter's direction and the younger woman said, "Hey, I'm forty-five. My futon days are over."

"Your futon days never started," Clancy reminded her.

Impulsively, Elizabeth put her arm around Clancy's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "I like you," she said, smiling warmly. "You don't let my girl get away with too much."

"She doesn't let me get away with anything," Abby corrected. "And that's just how I like it."

It turned out that Abby had inherited her rabid interest in gardening from her father, and after they all sat in the bright living room and enjoyed a glass of iced tea, he took Clancy on a tour.

The Tudor women remained in the light, airy living room, chatting about nothing in particular for a few minutes. After a while, Elizabeth looked at her daughter and said, "Are you sure she's telling the truth about her age? She looks like she's still in school!"

"Well, I haven't checked her license, but I think she's telling the truth," Abby said. "But she does look young, doesn't she?"

"Yes! She's going to love that in a few years, but she probably isn't very fond of it right now."

"Yeah, I think she'd like to look a little older than thirty. I think people think she's my daughter."

"You can't care what people think, honey. You have to live your life and do what you know is right." She cocked her head. "Is she right for you?"

"Yes," Abby said emphatically. "She's perfect for me. She's very child-like and playful, but in some ways she's more mature than I am. She hasn't had the pampered life I've had, Mom. She's had to work for everything she has, and that's made her strong and confident."

"She seems confident," Elizabeth agreed. "And she looks at you like she wants to put you in her pocket and carry you around."

Abby smiled. "She's protective of me, but she doesn't smother me. She really understands how to treat me. And I'm so crazy about her …" She shook her head. "It's actually embarrassing."

"I haven't seen that sparkle in your eyes in five years now. If that young woman is the one who put it back, I say good for you both."

Abby was sitting across the room, but she got up and joined her mother on the sofa. Grasping her hand, she stroked the soft, wrinkled skin and said, "She makes me incredibly happy, Mom. I thought … well, I thought that part of my life was over. I thought I'd have to live without what Will and I had. It's such a wonderful gift to feel that spark … that fire again."

Elizabeth wrapped Abby in her arms and whispered, "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. The last five years have been the hardest ones of my life." She pulled away and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's horrible to see your child in so much pain, to see the joy you used to have for life just fade from your eyes." She shook her head roughly and said, "It's been horrid." Brushing the hair from Abby's forehead she cocked her head and asked, "Has it been hard for you to … open yourself up again? I know how much you loved Will, sweetie. Have you been able to love Clancy that way?"

Struggling with her own tears, Abby nodded. "I have." With a tender, half-smile on her face, she said, "I don't know what it is about her, but we've been very open with each other from the start. It's so different," she mused. "In a way, maybe that's why it's easier. It's nothing like it was with Will - this is a totally new experience."

"And you enjoy … what you do together?" Elizabeth asked, with only a tiny bit of hesitation in her voice.

"Yes," Abby said immediately. "Very much so. It's hard to describe, Mom. In a way, it's like it was with Will. I mean, I feel desired and loved and wanted with Clancy, and that's how I felt with Will. But the way we reach those feelings is totally different. I must be bisexual, because there's a whole new side of me that Clancy reaches. The part of me that Will touched is still his, and I really like the fact that it always will be. What I have with Clancy is hers alone. I didn't know I had this side to myself, and even if I had, I wouldn't have wanted to explore it while Will was alive. But I'm glad that I'm exploring it now. And I'm very glad that Clancy's the one who's showing me how to express it. I love her, Mom, and I'm going to do my best to be with her the rest of my life."

"I hope that's true," Elizabeth sighed. "I hope you have a long, loving life together." She pulled away and placed gentle kisses upon each of her child's eyelids. "Forgive me for wishing this, but if this relationship is the right one for you, I hope that you die before she does. I never, ever want you to have to go through the pain of that loss again." She held her daughter tight and soon both were crying softly, sharing once again the heartache that was still so raw, even after five long years.

They snuggled together for a few minutes, a rare but comforting occurrence. "How has my favorite grandson taken the news?" Elizabeth asked.

Abby blew out a breath. "He came through for me," she said. "Just like I'd hoped he would."

Elizabeth cocked her head. "Are you sure he isn't hiding his real feelings?"

Abby took the question at face value, knowing her mother didn't have a hidden agenda. "No, I can't be sure. You know how Trevor is," she admitted. "But he told me it was too soon to have Clancy move in or stay overnight, so I think I'm getting the truth out of him."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. "That must have been an interesting conversation."

Abby laughed. "I've had a lot of interesting conversations lately, and I think I'd rather have boring ones!"

Clancy was quickly at ease with Philip, and she was soon in her element, exclaiming over the seldom-seen plants with which he had dotted his yard. It became clear that Abby mirrored his style, with Clancy noting the judicious use of showy plants - shades of green and height variations being his main goal. She always felt that eye-popping plants should be highlighted, and she expressed her complete approval of Philip's choice of locations for some of the brightest ones.

"It's always amazed me how few people make use of our remarkable growing season and climate," he said thoughtfully. "Up in Maine people slave over their land - working up until the snow is too high to wade through - just to have a show for four months or so."

"Are you from Maine, too?"

"Oh, no! I'm a third generation Californian," he said proudly. "My grandfather moved here from Chicago, not long after they started settling the place. My grandmother suffered from asthma, and back then everyone believed that the dry air would cure most anything." He smiled at Clancy and said, "This is one of the worst places in the country now for people with respiratory problems. Too much of a good thing, I guess." They walked along, Clancy making note of each item of interest. "What about you? Are you a local girl?"

"Pretty much," she said. "I grew up in Sierra Madre. My parents still live there. On my mom's side, her father came through California when he was in the war, and he vowed he'd move here. Went back to Michigan, married my grandmother, and took off. They settled in Sierra Madre, and he got a job at the quarry in Irwindale. Hard work," she said, shaking her head. "A few years ago he died of a chronic respiratory disease. White lung," she added. "Too much dust."

"What about your father's people?" Philip asked, finding himself thoroughly charmed by the thoughtful young woman.

"The O'Connor's have been in California for years and years. My grandfather moved down from San Francisco, also not long after the war. He was a police officer in the LAPD, but was shot and sustained a permanent injury and had to retire. He and my grandmother moved up to Cucamonga, and he got a job as a security guard. They both died when I was small; I didn't know either of them well."

Philip looked at her sympathetically. "Was your grandfather shot in the line of duty?"

Her gray eyes danced merrily and she lowered her voice, leaning in close. "This is a family secret, but I'll let you in on it. He and his partner were in a bar after work, and I'm guessing they were pretty well crocked. They got into a fight, which I'm told wasn't a rare occurrence," she said, "and his partner took out a stashed weapon and threatened my grandfather with it. They wound up out in the alley, and they wrestled, and somehow the gun went off and got my poor grampa right in the knee."

"Oh, my!" Philip gasped.

"Yeah," Clancy agreed shaking her head. "It was a pisser. But he wasn't the kind of guy to rat out a fellow cop, even though the other guy did shoot him. They made up some story about catching someone who was trying to break into the bar. It worked out all right," she shrugged. "My grampa got a small disability check from the department, and that plus his security guard job paid him about the same. And my gramma liked it better because he didn't have to risk his life on a daily basis."

"Or work with a partner," Philip said, grinning.

"Or work with a partner," Clancy agreed, gracing him with one of her best smiles.

After the tour, they switched off - with Elizabeth offering a flimsy excuse about giving Clancy a tour of the house. Both younger women knew it was so Philip could have some time alone with his daughter, but they played along without complaint.

Father and daughter sat out in the shady side yard, Abby enviously eyeing the small stand of lilacs nearby. "I just can't get lilacs to grow on my side of town. Your little microclimate is much more hospitable."

"One good reason to come visit," he said. Cocking his head, his smile growing wider, Philip said, "You know, Abby, if I were thirty years younger, that Clancy would be just my type."

She grinned at him and said, "You'd need to lose thirty years and some important equipment, Dad. She's not as open minded as I am about going from one side to the other."

He patted her gently and chuckled, saying, "I think I'll stick with your mother, then."

"I'm glad you like her, Dad," she said, giving him a quick hug. "I knew you would."

"I do like her, and I hope you know that I don't have negative feelings about the gay lifestyle." He looked at her closely and said, "Having Stephen and Pam and Maria in our lives has really forced me to lose the silly little prejudices I had before I knew any gay people."

She looked at him, a frown settling on her forehead. "Where are you going with this, Dad? I sense a 'but' coming on."

"There is one," he said, dropping his head a little. "I just want you to know that I'm not saying this because of Clancy, nor because she's a woman. And of course, I can hardly make a comment about the age difference."

"Uh-huh," she said. "Get on with it, Dad. You're not good at beating around the bush."

"I don't think you and Clancy should be together," he said. "Your mother and I don't agree about this, but I feel strongly about it."

"I heard that from Hayley," she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Right." He got up and shoved his hands into his pockets, standing up a little straighter. "That was a mistake," he admitted. "She was talking about how much she hated the arrangement and I found myself agreeing with her. But I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"That's all right, Dad. I assume you didn't do it to undermine me. But it's been hard enough without her thinking she's got you on her side."

"She does," he said, holding up his hands to stop his daughter's from commenting further. "I agree with her completely."

"But why?"

"The kids have been through enough," he said. "Losing their father at such a young age was enough trauma! You're making a huge mistake by doing something like this."

"Like what?" she asked, getting more frustrated by the moment.

"Like getting into a relationship with a woman! Not to mention how young she is! This is too far outside of the norm."

"But you're not antagonistic to gay people," she said flatly. "Just Clancy."

"Honey," he said, "you're not gay. Why would you choose to live this way when you can be happy with a man? It'd be so much easier for the kids."

"It would be easier for the kids if Will were still here," Abby said. "Nothing but losing me will ever be as traumatic for them."

"I know that, Abby, but you have to think about them first. You have to put your own needs aside and focus on them."

She stood abruptly and glared at him. "You're telling me this? After twenty-five years, you think you have to tell me that I have to make sacrifices for them? What do you think I've been doing all this time? Indulging myself?"

He looked up at her, his face pained. "Abby, please sit down. We can't discuss this if you're angry."

"Damned right I'm angry!" She stayed on her feet, unable to make herself let go of her indignation. "I've got an eighteen-year-old kid making demands on me, and now my eighty-year-old father is siding with her! Hell, yes, I'm angry!"

"I'm not siding with her," he said defensively.

"Of course you are! You're telling me to break up with Clancy, aren't you?"

He sighed and got to his feet. Placing his hands on her shoulders he gripped them lightly and said, "I don't want to side with her. I'm on both of your sides. I just … I just don't want to see this blow up in your face. She's your child, Abby, and losing the close relationship you have with her would be tantamount to losing Will again! I don't want to see you risk that."

She nodded, her anger dying down to a point where she was able to listen to him more attentively. "I don't want to risk that either, Dad, but letting her tell me how to live my life isn't the way to be close with her. I'm willing … hell, I'm eager to work to get past this, but she adamantly refuses. I can't give up something that's so important to me, just because my kid is throwing a tantrum!"

"She is still a kid, Abby. I saw that so clearly when she was with us this summer. She looks like an adult, but there's still a young, struggling girl behind that façade."

"I know that, Dad, I really do." She let him wrap her in a hug, resting her head on his shoulder for comfort. "I love my children more than my own life, but I can't indulge her. She's welcome to express how she feels at any time, and I'll do my best to make this easier on her, but I'm not going to give Clancy up. Hayley's gone now; I'm sure she'll never live in my house again. I'm trying to let her live her life, and she's got to learn to do the same for me."

He pulled away and looked at her for a few moments. "I don't know why you're being so adamant about this, but it's not like you. I think you're letting your desire for Clancy get in the way of thinking straight."

Abby's chin jutted out and she narrowed her eyes. "This is like me, Dad. This is the part of me I've submerged for the last twenty-five years. Yes, I'm still a mom, but I don't have to give up the things that matter to me to keep my kids happy. They're adults now, and they have to learn to deal with disappointments and disagreements. Giving in now would just show Hayley that if she throws a big enough fit, she can get what she wants. I'm too good a mother to do that to her."

"I disagree, honey, but I can see that you're not going to listen to me. I just hope this doesn't blow up in your face. Or Hayley's."

True to Abby's prediction, Clancy had no idea that Philip was against their pairing, and when Abby revealed the content of their conversation on the drive home, Clancy was floored. "But he seemed so welcoming and friendly. Like he really liked me!"

"He does," Abby said. "He said if he were thirty years younger, he'd make a play for you himself."

Clancy gaped at that, the thought confusing her all the more. "Then why …?"

"He's worried about my relationship with Hayley. He seems to think that she's still an impressionable kid, and that I have to give in to her demands just to make her happy." She shook her head and said, "I hate it when he gets involved in emotional issues. His engineering mind just wants to eliminate the static - fix the bug - whatever he needs to do to make things run smoothly again."

"So it's really not me?" she asked, her normal confidence entirely absent.

"No, of course not. He liked you a lot. And my mother is wild about you. She said she hopes we're together until death parts us."

"That follows along with my thinking," Clancy said softly, placing her hand on Abby's thigh. "I'm planning on celebrating at least a golden anniversary with you."

"That's a little optimistic," Abby said, smiling sadly.

"No, it's not," Clancy insisted. "I'll protect you and watch over you all the days of your long, long, life, Abby. I promise that."

"I promise the same," Abby sighed, lifting Clancy's hand to kiss the smooth skin. "I look forward to having you right by my side, well into my dotage."

"I'll dote on you into your dotage," Clancy added, giving Abby a smile that conveyed every bit of her love.