I set the table for three and Dad finally spoke. “Better set it for four, Bill. Molly has a daughter, you know.”
I dropped a fork. “Molly? You mean Mrs. Kenyon?”
“Yes. Didn’t I tell you? No, you didn’t give me a chance to.”
I knew her all right. She was Dad’s draftsman. I knew her daughter, too—a twelve-year-old brat. Somehow, it being Mrs. Kenyon made it worse, indecent. Why, she had even come to Anne’s Farewell and had had the nerve to cry.
I knew now why she had always been so chummy with me whenever I was down at Dad’s office. She had had her eye on George.
I didn’t say anything. What was there to say?
I said “How do you do?” politely when they came in, then went out and pretended to fiddle with dinner. Dinner was sort of odd. Dad and Mrs. Kenyon talked and I answered when spoken to. I didn’t listen. I was still trying to figure out how he could do it. The brat spoke to me a couple of times but I soon put her in her place.
After dinner Dad said how about all of us going to a show? I begged off, saying that I still had sorting to do. They went.
I thought and thought about it. Any way I looked at it, it seemed like a bad deal.
At first I decided that I wouldn’t go to Ganymede after all, not if they were going. Dad would forfeit my bond, but I would work hard and pay it back—I wasn’t going to owe them anything!
Then I finally figured out why Dad was doing it and I felt some better, but not much. It was too high a price.
Dad got home late, by himself, and tapped on my door. It wasn’t locked and he came in. “Well, Son?” he said.
“‘Well’ what?”
“Bill, I know that this business comes as a surprise to you, but you’ll get over it.”
I laughed, though I didn’t feel funny. Get over it! Maybe he could forget Anne, but I never would.
“In the meantime,” he went on, “I want you to behave yourself. I suppose you know you were as rude as you could be without actually spitting in their faces?”
“Me rude?”I objected. “Didn’t I fix dinner for them? Wasn’t I polite?”
“You were as polite as a judge passing sentence. And as friendly. You needed a swift kick to make you remember your manners.”
I guess I looked stubborn. George went on, “That’s done; let’s forget it. See here, Bill—in time you are going to see that this was a good idea. All I ask you to do is to behave yourself in the meantime. I don’t ask you to fall on their necks; I do insist that you be your own normal, reasonably polite and friendly self. Will you try?”
“Uh, I suppose so.” Then I went on with, “See here, Dad, why did you have to spring it on me as a surprise?”
He looked embarrassed. “That was a mistake. I suppose I did it because I knew you would raise Cain about it and I wanted to put it off.”
“But I would have understood if you had only told me. I know why you want to marry her—”
“Eh?”
“I should have known when you mentioned that business about rules. You have to get married so that we can go to Ganymede——”
“What?”
I was startled. I said, “Huh? That’s right, isn’t it? You told me so yourself. You said—”
“I said nothing of the sort!” Dad stopped, took a deep breath, then went on slowly, “Bill, I suppose you possibly could have gathered that impression—though I am not flattered that you could have entertained it. Now I’ll spell out the true situation: Molly and I are not getting married in order to emigrate. We are emigrating because we are getting married. You may be too young to understand it, but I love Molly and Molly loves me. If I wanted to stay here, she’d stay. Since I want to go, she wants to go. She’s wise enough to understand that I need to make a complete break with my old background. Do you follow me?”