I had been sitting in my car for almost an hour. The sun was beating down hard, and beads of sweat began to roll down by sunburned cheeks. The train should have been here already. Where is she? It had been eight years since I talked to Daisy before this; how could I turn down her request? A feeling of impatience began to sweep slowly throughout my entire self. But then I saw her.
Her yellow curls bounced on her shoulders as she emerged from the crowd of businessmen awaiting the six o'clock train. The bright blue bow in her hair brought out the brilliant nature of her eyes. For an instant I thought I was looking at a picture of her mother.
"Uncle Nick!" The girl's Mary Jane shoes clicked on the cobblestone path as she excitedly ran over to me. "I've gotten so big since you saw me last!"
I had agreed to let Pammy stay with me for an indefinite period of time. The Buchanans were going through some financial trouble because of the Great Crash, but Daisy could not bear to see her little girl give up the luxuries she had known all her life.
It was two weeks ago, a Sunday, when the call came in from Chicago. "Ooohh hello darling! Dearet Nick, we have no spoken in so long! Why did you never call me?"
The gaiety in her voice sparked anger deep inside of me. Gatsby, God bless him, had poured his heart out to her, and yet there was no hint of the slightest sadness or remorse in her voice. Somehow she had already forgotten, and I had no doubt that if I had mentioned his name right then, she would have inquired, "Gatsby who?"
Daisy had continued with her chit-chat, unbothered by my obvious reticence. "Ooohh Nick, it is the most dreadful thing! I cannot even speak of it in front of my dear Pammy. She has no idea, God bless her little heart."
"Idea about what?"
Daisy's voice fell to a bare whisper. "Nick, we're... we're... pooooorrr!" She dragged out the last word, as if she were afraid to finish it.
I choked on my own sarcasm. "Daisy, when you say poor, exactly how poor do you mean?"
Suddenly squeaky little sobs rang against my ear. "It's the market... Tom, Tom was investing... we've lost everything... I have had to give up all my dresses, except for one, and I have even sold my wedding pearls! I told him no, do not risk it, but he said he had talked to his broker and that we could end up being trillionaires! Can you imagine that? After that I could not possibly say no. Oh, dear, It is absolutely dreadful! Tom says we cannot buy anything new. The other day Pammy asked for an antique doll house from the shop down the street. She will be absolutely crushed when we tell her she cannot have it."
"So you need some money?"
"Oh no, Nick, we could never accept a nickel from you. Tom would kill me if I did. What I wanted to ask was if Pammy could come and stay with you for a while. I really cannot bear to see her as unhappy as I am. And anyway, the poor darling deserves to see her Uncle Nick every once in a while."
I was not very fond of Daisy's request, but I could not let such a precious little girl fall prey to her parents' moral-free lifestyle. This was my chance to teach her the lessons I had learned from Jay Gatsby.
