“My wife feels the same way you do—though I say that Heath woman sounds all right. Don’t worry.” Gravy moved a pile of unframed canvases out of the way, and sat down facing Vicki. “Lucy likes that Mrs. Heath. She was motherly to Lucy, I guess that’s why.”
Vicki asked whether the Graveses had heard from Lucy. They had not, and Gravy was untroubled about it. He said blithely:
“All I want is for Lucy to drop by here one of these days, so I can finish her portrait. Want to see it?”
He rummaged through the pile of canvases, pulled out one, and set it on an easel so Vicki could see it. She took a long, curious look. Allowing for the painter’s rather abstract style, she could see from Gravy’s portrait what Lucy Rowe looked like—a girl with big eyes, light-brown hair, a rather square face which in a feminine version recalled Marshall Bryant’s. Vicki could also see a little of Lucy’s pleasant personality from the easy way she had tossed a bulky green wool scarf around her shoulders, and her friendly half-smile.
“Lucy looks as if she’s about to speak,” Vicki said.
“Well, we did talk a lot while we were doing this portrait,” Gravy said. “She was all excited about the job offer from Mrs. Heath.”
“Did she ever talk about anyone else?” Vicki asked. “About her parents, or—or her grandparents?”
“It’s funny that you should ask that. Sure, she always talked about her parents. But during the sittings a lot of stuff about her grandparents came out. Funny she never would mention their name, it was such a touchy subject with her.” Gravy looked searchingly at Vicki. “I guess it’s all right to repeat it, it’s not exactly a secret. A confidence, maybe. Well—
“Lucy told Maggie and me she’d always felt no one but her parents ever really wanted her or cared about her. She just couldn’t believe her friends care a whole lot about her, or that some day she’ll find a husband who cares for her and needs her. You know what that feeling comes out of? From the way her grandparents rejected her and her parents, all of Lucy’s life. Made them feel humiliated, left out. Wouldn’t answer their letters. Never even cared to meet their granddaughter. The three Rowes didn’t have any close relatives. They sort of huddled together by themselves; then Lucy lost her mother, and then her father. So now Lucy feels alone, and unwanted.
“Well! Along came this Mrs. Heath, and she was motherly to Lucy. Besides, she needed Lucy, she wanted Lucy to be with her—to help her with the book and to be her traveling companion. She even decided to go to the hills to please Lucy. Pretty nice of her, hey? You should have seen how much happier that girl was, all of a sudden! My wife says that’s why Lucy took the new job almost without hesitating. I tell you, Lucy’s heart is in that job.”