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Jennlynn stared at the doorbell button like it was a snake getting ready to bite her.
Helplessly, the memory of another button for another bell over twelve years before came to mind. Welcome to Mustang Ranch the sign beside it had said. Ring Bell – Push Gate. The Mustang was gone now, sold piecemeal for back taxes, but the person she was then had pushed the button and changed her life, the first step in making her the person she was today. Even in her sadness and her fury of that day long ago, it had been hard to push that button. This button today was even harder. To push it meant pushing aside a dozen years of hate, of tears, of fear, of bitterness.
Jeff and Sheila were sitting in Emily’s minivan in the darkness out on the curb, realizing without words having been spoken that this was something that she had to do for herself. She could still turn away, she realized, just as she could have turned away from the gate bell at the Mustang and done something – she had no idea what – to avoid what she had started there. But somewhere in herself, she had found the courage or the resignation to push that button for the Mustang’s gate. Could she push this one, too?
Reaching out with a shaking hand, somewhere in herself she once again found the courage. She pushed the button.
She heard the doorbell ring inside, heard footsteps coming toward the door. There’s still time to run, she thought for an instant, but then the door opened, and there was no time left. She saw her father’s face for the first time in almost thirteen years. He’d aged, she thought instantly. Deep lines covered his old and sad face. She could see her mother in the living room, see recognition come to her face, and get up to come to the door herself.
"Jennifer," her father said quietly. "Jeff and Sheila told us they’d ask, but Jeff didn’t hold out any hope."
"They brought your message, Daddy," she said. "It would have been hard to say no to them."
"They’re good people," he nodded. "Would you like to come in?"
"Daddy and Momma," she said softly. "Before we go any further, there’s something that has to be said. I was not a prostitute when you threw me out. That, more than anything else, is what caused me to become one. Despite everything else I’ve done, I still am a prostitute, and just because I’m here doesn’t mean that I have any intention of changing. It’s part of what I’ve become. If you can’t accept that, I’ll leave now."
"No, Jennifer," her mother said. "You don’t have to leave. Your father and I have long recognized our mistake, and we’d like to ask you to forgive us."
"Daddy, Jeff and Sheila and Emily are out in the van. Would you like them to come in?"
"I think they’ll understand if we have a few minutes to ourselves," her father told her gently. "Please come in."
Still scarcely believing that this was happening, she stepped through the door into the living room, the scene of bitter memories that had eaten at her for years before she’d mostly let the sands of time bury them. "Jennifer," her mother said, "We’ve missed you."
"I wish I could say the same," Jennlynn replied softly. "I had to learn to not miss you, and it was very hard. As time went on I found a few people who could fill the holes a little. That helped, but mostly I had to do it by myself."
"I’m sorry we put you through it," her father said. "We shouldn’t have done it." He let out a sigh and continued. "I think we’d already realized it, but Jeff did us a great service last Sunday by reminding us that it took what you went through for God to make you the person you are, to be able to do what you did. Despite everything, we’re proud of you, and what’s more, the town is proud of you."
He nodded his head toward the wall, and Jennifer glanced that way to see a framed front page of the Bradford Courier. In huge type across the full page it said, Local woman averts hijacking. There was a photo of Southern 111 sitting on the runway at Keesler, another photo of her shaking hands with Colonel Hadley, and a smaller photo, her high school graduation picture.
"That’s not quite right," she said. "Mallory Fox and Dr. Milligan were mostly the ones who averted the hijacking. I just landed the plane."
"We sat here glued to the television, praying every inch of the way," her mother told her. "Up till then, I think we had thought of you mostly in terms of being a prostitute. But, what you did that afternoon and some of the things that were said in the news conference afterward, especially those things Jeff said, taught us that you were far more than that. Then, that TV show last night showed us that you are even more than what Jeff had said."
"I don’t know how to say this," her father added. "But we had always hoped for good things for you, and that you would be the best person you could be. I can’t say that I’m happy about the fact that you’re a prostitute, but I’m proud that you’ve done it legally and, in your view, honorably. We never fully understood that part until last night."
"A few hours ago I told Jeff and Sheila that I’ve always been proud that I’ve been legal and honorable and fair, that I’ve always taken my word as my bond, and that I learned that from you. Nevada is a little different than most places, but the same rules apply."
"Then you’ve done well," her father smiled. "Maybe we should invite Jeff and Sheila and Emily in now."
"How long can you stay?" her mother asked as her father headed for the door.
"Jeff and Sheila and I have no real plans," she replied. "After they came to my office in Phoenix this morning and told me about you, we went to Colorado to take care of some business, then came here. Anyway, we can head back to Phoenix tonight, or whatever. Jeff and Sheila and I have to pick up some planes in Colorado tomorrow or Saturday, but we could put that off if we have to."
"From Phoenix and back?" her mother said, amazed.
"Momma," Jennlynn grinned. "Time and distance don’t mean quite the same thing when you’re flying a Learjet."
Her mother shook her head. "It’s still hard for me to believe that you own your own jet plane."
"There’s probably going to be a second one joining the stable before long. Mike and I have been looking for one, but we haven’t found the right deal yet."
"Mike? Who’s he?"
"He’s my chief pilot; he’s a retired Air Force general."
Her mother shook her head, as her father and the three from the van came in. "Jennifer, you are amazing. I have trouble believing that you have a general working for you."
"Oh, Mike’s been putting up with me for years," she smiled. "He’s really only part-time, and he makes more money on the golf course."
"Jennifer, how many airplanes do you own?"
"Right at the moment, four, once the paperwork gets settled. One is just temporary, until we can make the transfer to Jeff and Sheila’s mission. I bought it for them this afternoon."
"The one they were raising money for? You bought it for them?"
"It’s only money," Jennlynn shrugged. "They can use it, and it was give the money to them or give it to the IRS."
"Honestly," Jeff spoke up. "We tried to talk her out of it. We went to her just to give her your message, not to ask for money, but your daughter is a hard person to say no to. She guilt-tripped the aircraft dealer on price so badly it was almost funny."
"I may have a few dollars," Jennlynn laughed. "Part of the reason I do is that I learned how to get good value for my money."
"Jennifer," her mother shook her head. "Just how much are you worth, anyway?"
"I can never give a real answer to that since it changes continually," she replied. "Several million dollars, anyway. Let’s just say that I come out ahead by giving an accountant ten thousand dollars a year to keep what he can out of the hands of the IRS."
"Jennifer, several million dollars counts to me as rich."
"Lower edge of the range, in my book," she smiled. "I had maybe twenty bucks in my pocket when I turned out at the Mustang Ranch after you threw me out. I’ve earned everything I’ve made since, either directly through work or through investments. Being a prostitute has been a small part of the total. In fact, this year it’s going to be the biggest percentage of my income it’s been in years. The stock market is down, and I raised my prices after last February. It’s now a ‘what the market will bear’ thing. After Southern one-eleven it bears a lot, and I’m still as busy as I want to be. I’ve only done it a few days a month for years. I do it as much as I want to. Any more would be too much, but any less would be not enough."
"Jennlynn," Emily spoke up. "I may be speaking out of place, but just how many men have you had, anyway?"
"There are two ways to answer that," Jennlynn smiled. "You still work at the Spee-D-Mart, don’t you? How many Slurpees have you sold?"
"Who knows?" Emily said. "Thousands, maybe tens of thousands. No way I could keep track and it doesn’t matter enough to me to try."
"Same answer," Jennlynn said. "In terms of clients, I’m sure I haven’t hit tens of thousands, but I feel like them about like you feel about Slurpees. You have to feel that way or you wouldn’t be a success in the business. In terms of men who I love, just one, and he’s all I ever want."
"Are you married, or something?" Emily asked.
"Or something," Jennlynn sighed. "We own a house out in the Nevada desert. I’ve learned to feel uncomfortable with too much water and too much green around, and I’ve come to love the barren open spaces. You can literally see for miles off our front porch. We don’t get to spend much time together there, and maybe that’s just as well, because we’re pretty different people, and we have to go our own ways most of the time."
"There wasn’t anything on the TV show last night about him," her mother said.
"I didn’t say anything about him when I was interviewed," she replied. "Not very many people know about us, even the people at Lambdatron. We have thrown around the idea of getting officially married, but it would be awkward for him right now."
"Because you’re . . . uh, a . . . " Emily stammered.
"The word is prostitute, Emily. I’m not ashamed of it, and you don’t have to be ashamed to use it to my face."
"But how does he feel about you being a prostitute?" Emily asked, still a little ginger about using the last word.
"He’s perfectly comfortable with it," Jennlynn said. "He’s probably the only man I’ve ever met, except for his father, who thoroughly understands what it’s all about and is comfortable with it."
"I’ve met Will," Jeff explained. "He is quite an extraordinary young man himself. We talked about that very question, and I can’t even say he’s merely complacent about it. It just doesn’t matter to him."
"Actually, it does," Jennlynn said. "Will is different. Part of the reason we’re not married is that he won’t take a cent from me. He lives on his Air Force pay, and is buying his parents’ ranch with it, so he doesn’t have money to throw around. I could buy that ranch for him as easily as I bought that plane today, but he wouldn’t take it from me because it would dishonor him. He’s like me; he’s proud that he’s earned what he has from what he’s done himself."
"How are you going to solve that?" her father asked.
"I don’t know," Jennlynn said. "Worse comes to worst, when he gets the ranch bought, I may sell everything I own, give the money to Jeff’s organization, and be happy just being a ranch wife. I don’t know that I could live that kind of life all the time, but I’ll do it if I have to. What we have now works for us for now, and we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. It’s not broke now, so there’s no point in breaking the paradigm."
"This has got to be some man," her father smiled.
"He’s a Nevada cowboy at heart and is counting the days until he can be one again," Jennlynn laughed. "You’d like him."
"Jeff has told me about him," Sheila grinned. "I’d like to meet him some time."
"No reason why not," Jennlynn smiled. "I could call him up and see if he could get free for lunch tomorrow. We could run down and eat Cajun."
"Sounds interesting," her father smiled. "I’d like to meet him."
"Cajun?" Emily frowned. "I don’t know of any Cajun restaurants around here."
"Emily, one more word for you," Jennlynn laughed. "Learjet."
"Learjet?"
"We’re talking the best Cajun restaurant in Biloxi, Mississippi. It’s only a couple hours down and a couple back. Come along if you want."
"Bring plenty of Pepto," Jeff laughed. "The food is wonderful, but aftereffects, well, they come afterward."