by MagdalenMary495
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
May 25th.
Jarrod Barkley stared at the painful reminder on his desk calendar. All morning
the bold, black month and date mocked him. Trying to ignore it did no good;
neither did concentrating on the scattered notations about a meeting with Judge
O’Leary or a 2:00 appointment to help a new rancher understand shared water
rights he’d scribbled underneath. All day he’d fought to forget only to find
himself probing the past as he would a toothache. Each time his mind forgot May
25th, it went unerringly back to see if the pain was still there.
May 25th. Eleven years ago. His wedding day.
At times the day seemed a hazy memory of a distant past. At other moments it
was as clear in his mind as yesterday. Louisa, resplendent in an ivory brocade
grown that swept the floor with a train he’d kept tripping over. Her hands
trembling as he’d slipped the gold band on her finger, his whispered
reassurances to love her forever. Then, as if he were watching their life
together as rushing pictures from a train window, the years sped by. The birth
of the children–Jenny, Nicky. He tried to rein his mind in to stop at the happy
days but always his thoughts rushed onward to the painful moment he’d found his
beloved, Louisa, murdered.
Would it have changed their last parting, he still wondered, if he had known it
would be the last time he’d kiss her this side of eternity?
Jarrod stood up from his desk chair, stretched and clasped his hands behind his
neck to work out the cricks. Moving to the window, he looked past his name in
gold leaf to the busy streets of Stockton. Raising the sash, he let the sounds
and scents of the day rush into the room—dust, springtime freshness and the
joyful shouts of children. Held hostage all day by the bondage of learning the
three “r’s”, they burst from the school in exuberant freedom. They poured along
the boardwalk, passing his office, laughing and vibrantly alive. Jarrod waited
to catch a glimpse of his own daughter skipping along as she waved a purple
ribbon through the air.
It wasn’t long before he heard the quiet knock he’d taught her in case he had
clients. With a start he realized that more and more he was keeping this time
of the afternoon free for his daughter’s after school visit.
“Come in, Jenny.”
“Daddy! Guess what? Guess!”
Smiling, he held out his arms for her to jump into. “And just what is it I’m
suppose to guess?”
“You can’t! I got all my spelling words right! Even constitution and
independence!”
“Congratulations! Didn’t I tell you if you studied long enough you’d learn
them?”
Jenny wiggled out of his arms giving him an impish smile, “I didn’t study them
at all, Daddy. Sister Patience forgot she had the Declaration of Independence
hanging up on the wall so I just squinted till I could make out all the
letters.”
“That, my darling daughter, is what is known as cheating.” He knew he should go
into the right and wrongness of Jenny’s skirting the law of spelling tests but
he let her off with a mild rebuke. His heart was too heavy to cause anyone else
even a fraction of pain that day. “Next time study the words so you know them
even if the schoolroom walls are bare.”
Jarrod gave her a quick pat on the head and sat back down behind the desk. If
he could just keep himself busy enough the day would pass faster. May 26th
wouldn’t grieve him as much as today. If he could just make it to tomorrow,
missing Louisa would begin to ebb. “Daddy has a lot of work to do, Jenny. Go on
home. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Daddy?”
“Hm?”
“Daddy, why are you sad today?”
Jarrod looked over the desktop into the puzzled eyes of his daughter. “What
makes you ask that?”
“This morning at breakfast when Grammie looked at you, she gave you a funny
smile. Then Uncle Nick and Uncle Heath tried to get you to go with them to the
stock sale in Sacramento. They asked you four times. I counted. Every time you
said no they looked at each other like they wanted you to change your mind.
Then Aunt Audra said she would bring you lunch and you told her you’d rather be
alone. Now you’re not mad about the spelling test and your eyes are sad,
Daddy.”
“I’m not sad, Jenny. " He motioned for Jenny to come to him, lifted her
onto his lap and pressed his face against the silky softness of her dark curls.
So like her mother to notice his pain. He’d thought he’d hidden it well so as
not to distress her. Smiling and teasing her at the breakfast table, forcing a
normal facade he didn’t feel. Putting on a show to keep his sympathetic family
from grieving as he did. Like the rest of his family Jenny wasn’t fooled by his
sham. “Just remembering.”
“Remembering what? Why do you remember if it makes you feel sad?”
He pointed to the date on the calendar. “Today is a special day, honey. It’s my
anniversary, the date Mama and I were married.”
“I don’t understand. Wasn’t that a happy day? Weren’t you glad when you married
Mama?”
“Very happy.” As quick tears filled his eyes, Jarrod cursed himself for the
distressed expression that crossed Jenny’s face. He hated himself for the catch
in his throat as he attempted to explain, “It’s just ...I miss her so very
much. Today most of all. I miss...” How could he distill everything he missed
about Louisa into words their child would understand. How could he explain he
was hungry for her touch, her understanding, her love and acceptance? “I
want...your mama and I never seemed to run out of things to say to one another.
I miss talking to her, Jenny.”
They were both quiet. Jarrod lost in memories and hoping to quash them down
before he burst into shameful tears in front of his child. Squeezing Jenny
tight, he swallowed hard. If only this day were over...if only...he could skip
living through this day’s pain.
“You can talk to me, Daddy.”
Jarrod didn’t have to fake the quick smile that curved his lips. “I know. It’s
just that there are times when a man wants to talk to a woman.”
“Oh.” Jenny seemed to be thinking this over. “Daddy? Is an anniversary like a
birthday? Do you get presents?”
“Your Mama and I always tried to give one another a small memento. You’ve seen
my pocket watch,” Jarrod pulled it from his vest and held it in one hand. All
day he’d refrained from opening it to the small photograph of Louisa inside.
Taking a quick breath, he pushed the button to open it and let the two sides
fall open in his palm. “Mama gave me this the year you were born. This is a
lock of her hair.”
Jarrod’s throat ached as he watched Jenny finger the glass. Looking up at his
face, she asked, “Daddy, do other people give you presents on an anniversary?
Like Grammie and Uncle Nick and Uncle Heath?”
“Yes, often we received presents from the family.” A memory came unbidden to
his mind, so simple, so ordinary he’d forgotten until Jenny’s questions
unlocked the past. “Do you remember the year you and Nicky gave us a gift?”
“I don’t know...” Jenny crinkled her brow in thought. “Didn’t we try to make
you a cake?”
Jarrod’s laugh rang out in genuine happiness. “Try? I’ve never seen so much
flour and eggs and sugar spilled and poured and dumped all over a kitchen
before! There were the two of you covered from head to toe in everything you
could think of to dump into the biggest bowl your Mama had. It took us an hour
to scrub the eggs out of your hair and half the night to find...”
His voice broke suddenly. “Daudra.”
May 25th. Eleven years ago it had begun in so much joy. Now it was one of the
most painful days of the year.
“Daudra got lost.” Jenny reminded him, her voice steadying him in the here and
now. “You found her in the sack of sugar.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Daddy, I didn’t get you a present this year.”
“I don’t expect a gift, honey.” Jarrod gave her another hug hoping to pull his
emotions back into line. Later tonight, alone in his room, he would grieve
Louisa and their short life together. Now he would be grateful for this
precious daughter she’d left him. “But I’m got an idea. Why don’t the two of us
go to the Cattleman’s Hotel for dinner? I’ll finish up my work here and we’ll
go eat early. Would you like that?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Jarrod lifted her from his lap. “Why don’t you run visit with Mrs. Merar for
awhile so I can finish up this brief. When I saw her earlier today she said she
was hoping you’d stop by soon. I believe she mentioned pecan cookies.”
“I’ll go right this second!” Jenny dashed away, ran back in to retrieve her purple
ribbon and raced out again careful to pull the door closed. The door opened
almost at once and Jenny peeked around the edge, “I’ll get you a present too,
Daddy!”
Sighing, Jarrod snapped the pocket watch shut, ripped the bitter reminder from
his calendar and tossed the page in a wastebasket. With a heavy heart he dipped
his pen nib in ink and focused his mind on the task at hand. It seemed just
moments later when the quiet knock once again came at his office door. A quick
glance at the clock over the mantel told him he’d been working for two hours.
“Come in, Jenny.”
Another knock.
“Come in, Jenny.”
The doorknob began to turn and a cautious face peered around the edge of the
door. “It isn’t Jenny, Mr. Barkley, it’s Molly Richards.”
Instantly Jarrod was on his feet and hurrying to open the door for her. “Molly,
what?” He was so surprised to see her he found himself at a loss for words. “I
expected..Jenny was suppose to be back by now. Won’t you come in?”
“Thank you.”
Jarrod watched her enter, pleasantly aware of the scent of gardenias as she
passed by in a silky peach colored dress. The irreverent thought crossed his
mind of how he would love to dance with her in such a dress. He knew exactly
how the skirt would twirl to the orchestra and her face would flush with
pleasure, the way the lamplight would bring out the glints in her strawberry
blonde hair, how small and fragile her hand would feel pressed in his. He knew
and felt a pang of remorse for Louisa.
“Thank you, Mr. Bar...” Molly stopped herself as he held out a chair for her to
sit, “Jarrod, thank you, Jarrod, for inviting me to dinner.”
Dinner? Jarrod had been about to settle himself behind the desk and ask how he
could help her. Momentarily taken aback, he tried to blink the confused expression
from his eyes. He knew he hadn’t invited this young woman to dinner but he
began to suspect he knew someone very sneaky who had. Sitting in the chair
beside Molly, his suspicions were soon confirmed by her happy chatter and eager
expectations. Molly was Jenny’s anniversary gift.
“I hope I’m not too early.” Her green eyes sparkled as she glanced at him
demurely. “Jenny said you were too busy to come ask me yourself. You should be
so proud of the way she delivered your kind invitation. She’s a wonderful
little girl, Mr. Bar...Jarrod. She told me to tell you Mrs. Merar was giving
her a ride home so you weren’t to worry.”
Proud and wonderful were not the words Jarrod would use to describe his
meddlesome daughter. He’d have words with that little lady before he went to
bed tonight! His momentary irritation must have shown on his face because
Molly’s voice trailed away.
Molly’s cheerful smile faltered and a doubtful look appeared in her eyes. “You
did invite me to dinner at the Cattleman’s Hotel, didn’t you? Jenny said...”
Jenny he would deal with later. “Molly, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have
dinner with tonight than you.”
“Oh.” The pretty blush crossed her cheeks again. “I thought perhaps I
misunderstood.”
“There is no misunderstanding,” Jarrod told her as gallantly as possible under
the circumstances. How he could pretend to enjoy her company the rest of the
evening he couldn’t guess. His heart felt like broken shards of glass that kept
rubbing against one another cutting a deeper ridge of pain each time. “If
you’ll just let me get my coat and hat, we’ll be on our way.”
Hours later he let himself in to the silent house. He’d left that morning with
a weight of grief settled on his heart and his mind full to the brim of
bittersweet memories. Coming home, having survived May 25th, he felt bruised
but surprisingly hopeful. Molly. Climbing the stairs with a lighter step than
he’d descended that morning, Jarrod smiled to himself. Molly Richards still had
a few freckles across her nose and wore her heart on her sleeve. He had only to
gaze into those green eyes to see a longing he knew well. In time . . . maybe
in time he could open his heart to return Molly’s love. Louisa would want him
to love again. One day.