Circles of Influence

[sapphirequill]

 

Yet another procrastination plot bunny.

QaF is the property of RTD and the companies that paid for it.

Originally posted: 27 Oct 09

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Circles of Influence

It was an unseasonably warm but otherwise typical Spring Saturday at the Country Club.

As expected, the minute Molly had been released from the confines of the car, she had scampered towards the pool where her swimming lessons would be held, as eager to catch up with her girlfriends as she was to be in the water. Likewise, Jennifer knew, Justin would spend the afternoon with his sketch book rather than participate in any sort of organized activity. The only mystery was whether it would be the rolling landscape of the golf course or the people enjoying the sunshine that would inspire her son today. The time spent outside would do him good, though; the arrival of the mild weather had passed unnoticed as he'd locked himself up in his room studying for his upcoming finals.

It had taken some effort, but Jennifer had managed to convince him that the world wouldn't end if he joined them for the day. She would be satisfied with his best effort, but Craig preferred quantifiable successes, and Justin was determined to make his father proud.

Leaving him to his own pursuits, Jennifer and Craig headed to the tennis courts when they ran into the Petersons, and their intended game of mixed singles became one of mixed doubles.

Nearly two hours later, when Craig suggested they continue with a second game, Ron agreed enthusiastically, but Jennifer looked at Nancy and saw the dismay that must have been on her own face mirrored on the other woman's.

"As delightful as that sounds, you'll have to carry on without me. There's a chair under an umbrella with my name on it."

"What a coincidence," Nancy chimed, "mine, too."

Not much later, the women had showered, changed, and seated themselves on the patio to enjoy tall glasses of iced tea.

Jennifer noticed Justin sitting under a tree not far from the clubhouse, sketching the duck pond, and she smiled fondly before turning to ask after Nancy's children. "How are the girls? I haven't seen them in such a long time."

"Well, you know how it is; when they grow up and have lives of their own, they rarely have time for their poor, old folks anymore."

Jennifer laughed at the idea of the Petersons as 'poor, old folks' before nodding sympathetically. "It's not something I'm looking forward to, certainly. Justin's finishing his junior year; this time next year, he'll be accepting a college. Craig's a third generation Dartmouth alum., though, so anything else will be a hard sell." Her smile softened. "I'll have a difficult enough time when he goes to camp next month."

"At least you'll still have Molly for quite a few more years."

"That's it! I knew there was a reason why I had them ten years apart." It certainly sounded better than a misguided attempt to save her marriage.

Nancy may have heard the unspoken thought or assumed it because she turned the subject to her elder daughter, Lynette, who was in the process of finalizing a messy divorce. Her second.

After listening patiently to a thorough cataloging of who would be getting what in the settlement, Jennifer asked after Nancy's other daughter. "And Lindsay?"

"She's doing well." Nancy reached for her glass of iced tea before continuing. "She's expecting, actually."

"Congratulations! Your first grandchild. You must be so excited."

"Hmm," was Nancy's reply, murmured into her glass as she sipped her tea.

"Lindsay will be such a wonderful mother; she was the best babysitter I ever had. I always regretted that she'd grown past that by the time I had Molly."

"I just wish she'd stop being ridiculous and marry the man." The glass clinked against the table as Nancy set it down with a bit too much force and sighed. "She's decided that she wants a child, but rather than be traditional — that word seems to be anathema to her — she's convinced a friend of hers to 'donate sperm.' How do you tell a child that's how she began? 'A man donated sperm.'"

While Jennifer believed that a two-parent family was certainly easier, and she couldn't imagine how much work it would have been to raise her children on her own, she knew that Lindsay would be more than capable. "All the more proof the child's a gift."

"Who's a gift?" Justin asked as he approached the table. "Me?" He smiled roguishly before picking up her glass and draining it.

She swatted him with one hand while flagging down the waiter with the other. "Definitely not you," she replied with mock disapproval.

His cocky grin as he sat down made it clear that he knew her disapproval was as fake as her claim that he wasn't a gift. He was her pride and joy, and he knew it. "Hi, Mrs. Peterson."

'Hello, Justin," Nancy replied warmly. "Your mother tells me you're already looking at colleges."

"Yes, ma'am. Applications are due in the fall. I still have one year left at St. James, but I'm ready for something different."

"And you're going to camp this summer?"

Justin nodded enthusiastically. "It's a six-week program for aspiring artists, with workshops taught by internationally recognized artists. It's highly competitive: they only accept a dozen students, and almost a thousand applicants submitted portfolios. And it's all thanks to Lindsay that I was even able to apply — she was always showing me how to improve my drawings when I was little. How is she?"

"She's doing well." Nancy seemed hesitant to say anything further, and Jennifer wondered if she thought Justin still believed babies were brought by the stork. "She's going to have a child in a few months."

"That's great! Congratulations, Mrs. Peterson, and please give Lindsay a hug for me. She's going to have a very lucky kid."

"I'll tell her you said so," Nancy replied reservedly, but Justin beamed at her. Jennifer was unsurprised when she softened, however involuntarily, in response. It would take a stronger woman than Nancy Peterson to resist Justin's smile.

Any further discussion was halted as Craig and Ron approached, and they turned their attention to the pressing matter of lunch.