He was an ethical man. He couldn’t expect a relationship with Mr. James’ young daughter. She was too young, too pure, too good for him. Henry Stevens was an ethical man, a faithful believer, a good person. He was a publisher, an editor, and was now working for Mr. James. He was to stay at the James’ ranch in the middle of Texas and help Mr. James with his autobiography.
The James’ daughter was no doubt an exceptional young woman. She was not at all shy; her mouth was always open, full of stories and jokes and surprises. Henry enjoyed her talks, her stories, and he found himself drawn to her, slightly attracted to her innocence, her purity, her candidness.
Everyday after lunch, the James’ and Henry ate ice cream on the porch, facing the ranch, the sun hitting their eyes. Rebecca James had two scoops of peach ice cream with a spoon of marmalade. She wore pink blouses, with tight jeans and untied shoes. Her hair was always in a neat ponytail, sometimes with a red ribbon. She reminded Henry of his high school’s cheerleaders, the ones that the football boys always fell for.
One afternoon when they were having their usual cups of ice cream out on the porch, Henry Stevens took an opportunity and spoke with Rebecca. Mr. James was out; he had not indicated where. Rebecca was alone with Henry, and Henry was delighted, jittery; he felt butterflies in his stomach.
“Say Rebecca, what’s it like, living in this magnificent ranch, eating ice cream everyday, doing as you please? Huh?” he asked, biting into his ice cream.
“Oh Mr. Stevens, it’s not all that you know. Sure I love it here. Sure I get to do as I please ‘cause Daddy doesn’t care as long as his only daughter is happy. But, it ain’t enough you know? It’s like, I want more. I want to see the city and all. All that noise and crowd and craziness. I can’t wait to be 18. I’ll run away or maybe I’ll just tell Daddy that I’m gonna go study something and be a rich girl, you know?” she said, laughing, licking the ice cream around her mouth.
Henry then realized that he could never really be anything in her life. He couldn’t give her anything. He was 33, and he’d already experienced both the city life and the simple life in Texas. He couldn’t possibly gain anything by befriending a 16 year-old child who had no idea what was out there, on the other side of the ranch, beyond the farms and the cornfields.
“You’ll love the city,” he finally said.
They finished their ice cream and returned inside. The sun was gone by then and Rebecca James had her mind on flashy cars and fancy parties and the Big Apple.