[November 27th] [The Rockford Files-related] Chronicles of a Friendship, 27

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Chronicles of a Friendship, scene 27
Day/Theme: November 27th - Once Upon a Time, There was a Precious little Girl
Series: The Rockford Files (using characters from The Queen of Peru episode)
Character/Pairing: Ginger Townsend, Lou Trevino, Amanda and her parents (OCs)
Rating: K+/PG

Part 3.


By Lucky_Ladybug

The second floor of Ginger and Lou’s home consisted of three bedrooms and a bathroom in use and a corridor of assorted rooms that they had not as yet found uses for. After dinner, they decided to tackle said corridor as planned. Once the dishes were in the dishwasher, they headed upstairs and past Lou’s room to the closed rooms.

“I don’t recall anything out of sorts up here,” Ginger remarked, pushing open the door to the first room. It was a bedroom, nicely furnished, but in need of some work with the peeling wallpaper and some parts of the wooden walls. One beam stretched diagonally across an empty space, revealing the next room beyond. “Except for that,” Ginger added matter-of-factly.

Lou wandered over to the hole and shined his flashlight up and down the space. “Nothing in here,” he reported. He bent down, looking into the succeeding room. “Or there.”

“I’m not even certain what half these empty rooms could be converted to,” Ginger grunted. “Since I would prefer not to have a multitude of guestrooms.”

“I’ve always wondered what the heck all those rooms are that you hear about in old books,” Lou said. He straightened, heading for the door. “Drawing room, sitting room . . . what’s the difference in them?!”

Ginger smirked dryly. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Although Mum tried to explain the difference to me once. There are still drawing rooms in Great Britain. Basically, they’re both for entertaining. I believe she said that the drawing room was where the women went to waffle about one thing or another while the men visited among themselves.”

“Huh,” Lou mused.

They wandered through the rest of the rooms, indeed not finding anything unusual by the time they arrived at the final room near the end of the hall.

Lou sighed. “This is the last one.”

Ginger nodded, turning the doorknob. “Yet another bedroom.” He stepped in on the pink carpet. The light wallpaper, also pink, featured roses of a deeper pink.

“Well, at least it’s more creative than a lot of the rooms,” Lou said.

Ginger didn’t answer. He had caught sight of an oval locket on the dresser. Wandering over, he picked it up and clicked it open.

“What is it?” Lou wondered.

“It looks like Jennifer,” Ginger said. “And how odd. I hadn’t thought of it before, but she strikingly resembles that little girl we met at your cousins’ friends’ house.”

Lou started. “Amanda?!”

“Yes.” Ginger frowned, staring at the locket for another moment before holding it out to Lou. “Don’t you agree?”

Lou took the necklace, studying the old and worn photograph. “Yeah,” he said in amazement. “I guess so.” He looked up. “It could be a weird coincidence, like how you look like that mercenary Dutch Ingram.”

Ginger nodded. “Yes. Or, since the family effectively disappeared, it’s possible that they are in actuality close at hand and Amanda is a descendent. They may have changed their surname in an attempt to further avoid scandal.”

“So what are we going to do?” Lou wondered. “Go out there and ask them about it?”

“I don’t suppose it would hurt,” Ginger said. “We could take either this locket or the larger photograph in the basement to support our claim. And if we learn they have deliberately altered their name and still want it kept secret, we would have to vow to never reveal that information. If they would tell us at all, of course.”

“They might insist on it being a coincidence that Amanda looks like Jennifer,” Lou agreed.

“They might. But I, for one, want to try every possible angle to solve this blasted mystery and stop the aggravating telephone calls.”

Lou handed the locket back to him. “Same here,” he said.

“Do you suppose it’s too late to go calling on them tonight?” Ginger wondered.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Lou said. “Amanda might be in bed, though.”

“Well, it’s really her parents we would need to discuss this with first,” Ginger said. “Perhaps if they’ve deliberately changed their family name, Amanda doesn’t know and they wouldn’t want her to know.”

“You’ve got a point,” Lou conceded.
****
The lights were still on when Lou pulled up in front of the house he assumed was Amanda’s due to her prior directions. “Nice place,” Lou commented.

Ginger nodded. All of the houses in this new subdivision were quite nice. Small compared to their house, but fairly good-sized in their own right.

Lou and Ginger got out, heading up the walk and to the porch. Before either of them could knock, the door flew open. “You came!” Amanda exclaimed, beaming up at them. She pushed open the storm door. “Come in!”

“Thank you,” Ginger said, stepping into the living room. “Are your parents in?”

“Yeah.” Amanda glanced over her shoulder. “Here they come.” She smiled. “Mommy! Daddy! These are the nice men I told you about.”

A man and a woman had come to the doorway, wondering what all the commotion was at this time of the evening. Seeing Ginger and Lou, they seemed both perplexed and relieved.

“You’re Ginger and Lou?” The woman smiled. “Amanda hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

“That doesn’t usually happen,” the man added. “You made a big impression on her.”

Ginger wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

Lou glanced to him, then back at the parents. “We’ve been thinking about her, too,” he said. “She’s a real well-behaved kid.”

They silently, mutually agreed not to mention her participation in sticking a piece of gingerbread to the wall. She had regretted that almost instantly.

Amanda beamed. Taking their hands, she tried to lead them farther into the living room. “Come sit down!” she offered.

Looking quickly at the parents to see if it was alright, Ginger and Lou allowed themselves to be led to one of the soft off-white couches in the front room. The parents followed.

“I’m Ann,” the woman said, holding out her hand.

“And I’m Bill,” the man added, doing likewise.

When handshakes were exchanged all around, everyone sat down. Amanda sat between Ginger and Lou, while Ann and Bill were opposite them on another couch.

“So,” Bill said then, “what brings you here now?”

Having decided on what he wanted to say, Ginger took the opening Bill had just given him. “This may sound odd, but we’ve been going through some belongings left in our home by the previous residents and we found some items belonging to a little girl several years older than Amanda. There’s really a remarkable resemblance.” He took out the locket and reached across the coffee table, handing it to Bill.

Amanda watched, curious, but didn’t say anything. She waited as her father clicked the locket open and studied the picture along with Ann, who gasped.

“Well,” Bill said in surprise, “this looks like Jennifer Bradshaw.”

“That’s the only name we could find in possible connection with the photographs,” Ginger said, perking up.

“We kind of wondered if she was an ancestor or something,” Lou said.

Amanda jumped down and went to the other couch. “May I see?”

Bill passed it on to her. “Just be careful with it, Honey.”

Amanda walked back to the first couch, occupied with the picture. Bill and Ann watched her, then turned their attention back to Lou and Ginger.

“What all did you find?” Ann wondered. “You’re right that she’s an ancestor, on my side of the family. We’ve been trying to find out more about her and her family for ages. It seems like all of the family photos are lost, except for two small ones we have of Jennifer.”

“There is a bigger version of that photograph, plus a photograph album,” Ginger replied. “There are also some children’s clothes, but they don’t look as old as the dates of Jennifer’s life.”

He and Lou exchanged another silent look. Taking the cue, Lou spoke again. “Do you uh . . . know what happened to Jennifer?”

Ann nodded sadly. “She died at age 18 of influenza. Her health had been bad for eight years, after she was accidentally trapped for hours in an old trunk.”

Ginger frowned. “I see. You’re certain of this?”

“Yes.” Ann leaned forward, clasping her hands. “Her family was devastated. They moved around for a while before settling back in this area. Jennifer had loved it and they just couldn’t bring themselves to leave.”

“It’s odd that there’s very little information on them,” Ginger said.

“I guess after moving so much, they just kind of dropped off the radar,” Bill said.

“We have an old diary kept by Jennifer’s mother,” Ann said. “It covers all of Jennifer’s life. And there’s another one kept by her older sister Margaret. We only have the mother’s, though. You could see it, if you’d like.”

“That’s very interesting,” Ginger said honestly. “Yes, I’d like to see it. To tell the truth, we’ve been starting to wonder if there could have been any foul play involved in Jennifer’s death. We found what must have been the trunk, tucked away in the servants’ quarters. She scratched several messages in it. And we noticed that on her death certificate, it looks as though the year was erased and a different one put in.”

“Oh, it was a stupid mistake made by the typist,” Ann said, shaking her head. “Jennifer’s mother complains about it in the diary and how they didn’t own a typewriter and couldn’t change it for years.”

Lou tried to relax. “So the thing with the trunk really was just an accident.”

“Yes. Jennifer was playing and the lid closed and latched. She talked about it herself in some old letters and pictures we have.” Ann got up. “I’ll get that diary and Jennifer’s letters and pictures.” She hurried out of the room and soon returned with a small box, which she handed to Ginger.

He and Lou perused the contents with care. The letters and pictures of Jennifer’s had been placed in sheet protectors for safe-keeping. The diary was yellowed with age. They were careful to only touch the very edges of the pages.

Finally Ginger nodded to himself. Everything checked out, just as Ann had said. He replaced the diary, while Lou handed over the sheet protectors. “Thank you for letting us look,” Ginger said.

“No problem,” said Bill. “We’re happy to let you see them. You deserve it, after finding all that stuff in your place.”

Amanda looked up from the locket. “May I keep this?”

“If your parents don’t mind,” Ginger said. “We certainly have no use for it.”

Ann smiled. “Of course you may have it, Mandy.” She looked to Ginger and Lou. “And if it wouldn’t be any trouble, would it be possible for you to bring over these things that you found? We’d like to have them.”

“There’s several boxes,” Ginger said. “And the trunk. Perhaps it would be better if you came to collect them.”

“We’d be happy to,” Ann said.

Bill nodded. “I have a truck that could easily hold them all. Maybe we could come this weekend?”

“That would be fine,” Ginger nodded.

“Say,” Lou said as an afterthought, “do you also know an Anthony Barstow? We found an old letter of his in one of the other rooms.”

Ann and Bill shook their heads. “We’ve never heard of him,” Ann said.

“Well, that’s alright. The main mystery we wanted to clear up was Jennifer’s.” Ginger glanced down at Amanda, who was still admiring the locket.

“I’m glad we could help.” Ann shook her head. “It’s strange, that you would move into the house the family once had.”

“It’s rather strange that you didn’t already have all the items in our house,” Ginger remarked, “particularly when you even have an old diary and letters and pictures.”

“I guess it is, isn’t it,” Ann smirked self-deprecatingly, then sobered. “The truth is that there was a rift in the family. Margaret blamed her mother for Jennifer’s death. She felt that Jennifer wouldn’t have been in such bad health if she had been found sooner in the trunk, and she could never quite believe that her mother hadn’t even thought to look there.”

Lou stared. “She really believed that her mother had left Jennifer there on purpose?!”

“Oh no,” Ann said quickly. “But it upset her that if the thought crossed Mrs. Bradshaw’s mind, she didn’t follow up on it. She could never get over that, and it eventually estranged them for the rest of their lives. It was a tragedy all around.”

“It really is,” Lou frowned. The situations were not really similar, yet he couldn’t help but think about when Ginger had shot Mike. Lou had forgiven him and not held a grudge. And yet the daughter hadn’t been able to forgive her mother for an honest mistake and oversight that the mother had likely felt haunted by for the rest of her life.

“So Margaret took a lot of things with her, is that it?” Ginger said.

“That’s right,” Bill nodded. “So it must have been her descendents who had your house.”

“We’re still estranged,” Ann sighed sadly. “We don’t even know who in that part of the family is still alive.”

“Perhaps none of them,” Ginger said. “It’s strange that they simply left so much behind in our house.”

“It is,” Bill frowned. “But maybe there’s still a kid or two alive, someone who wanted to leave the past behind them and move on.”

“Maybe they’ve even looking for us,” Ann said.

“Maybe,” Lou said. “If they are, I hope they’ll find you. Or you’ll find them; whichever.”

“Who was selling the house when you bought it?” Ann queried.

“A couple named Ralston,” Ginger said. “They were vacationing in Europe while their realtor was trying to sell the house.”

“Thank you,” Bill said. “We’ll look into that.”

“Thank you for coming over,” Amanda smiled, looking up at Ginger and Lou. “The locket is so pretty.”

“It suits you,” said Lou.

“Just don’t make the same mistake Jennifer did and go playing in a trunk or anything else that could trap you inside,” Ginger added.

“I won’t,” Amanda promised.

Several minutes later, goodbyes had been said and Ginger and Lou were leaving. The family came out on the porch and watched as their new friends got into their car and drove into the night.

“Well,” Lou sighed in relief as he turned the corner, “it looks like that clears up the mystery.”

“Hopefully,” Ginger grunted.

“You believed them, didn’t you?” Lou wondered.

“There was no reason to disbelieve them,” Ginger said. “Unless Jennifer was told to write and draw what she did, and the mother lied in her diary, everything was authentic.”

“And all of that’s pretty unlikely,” Lou said.

Ginger nodded. “Until we learn anything that contradicts this evidence, I will choose to believe that we know the truth. The question is whether our midnight stalker will be satisfied.”

Lou frowned. “You don’t figure it could be this missing relative they think might be out there, do you?”

“It could be,” Ginger acknowledged. “Hopefully we’ll soon find out.”

To their relief, the telephone was silent all night. And over the next days, the only calls that came in were from definite living people.