A Forever Thing (10 page)

“See? Her attitude is getting better now that she has some food
in her and the prospect of a party to go to,” Sophie said.

“If the food at your party is as good as the Aussie cowboy is
hunky, it might sweeten my attitude for a whole month. Y’all about finished? I told Momma I’d be home to help with the supper
rush tonight.” Kate pulled out a credit card and laid it on the check
folder the waiter had left behind.

Sophie tossed it back at her. “My treat this time.”

Fancy tucked several bills into the folder and held it up for the
waiter. “No, it’s mine. Nothing could be worse than this morning.
You two got me through it. I owe you both.”

They’d barely settled into Kate’s truck when Fancy’s phone
played the first few bars of “80s Ladies.”

“Hello, Momma, guess where I am? In Abilene with the girls,
and have I ever got a story to tell you … What? … When? …
I’m on my way. What do I need to do?”

She listened for a minute and flipped the phone shut. “Momma
and Les are at the airport. They’ll be here in a few hours. Granny
died this morning.”

Her voice was hollow in her own ears.

Tears didn’t flow.

Grief didn’t overwhelm her.

She waited for any kind of emotion. Nothing happened.

“I’m so sorry. What can we do?” Sophie asked.

Kate started the truck and backed out. “I’ll call the cafe and tell
them I won’t be in today. We’ll stay with you until Gwen and Les
get here.”

“I should cry. Why can’t I cry?” Fancy asked.

“Because you are numb. It’s a shock,” Sophie answered.

“They think it was a massive heart attack. They went in to wake
her up for breakfast, and she was dead,” Fancy said.

“What a wonderful way to go. No struggling for breath. Just go
to sleep and wake up in eternity,” Kate said.

“It wasn’t like that for your dad, was it?” Fancy asked gently.

“No. I wish he would have just gone to sleep. Those last two
days I prayed for God to just take him and not let him suffer anymore.”

They rode in silence back to Albany. The house seemed smaller,
darker, and emptier when they walked inside out of the hot August
heat.

“Where is she now?” Sophie asked.

“Momma said they’d taken her to the funeral home.”

“Funeral in three days?” Kate asked.

Fancy shook her head. “She made her own arrangements a few
years ago. We didn’t know. Momma said there won’t be a funeral.
She’ll explain when she gets here.”

Sophie put on water to boil for a pitcher of sweet tea. “I’m not
surprised. If Hattie didn’t even want to see you or your mother,
then she wouldn’t want you to be a part of a funeral either. Maybe
it’s best. Everyone will chalk it up to her being such a strange
woman, and in a few days it will be over. What will you do now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe just go on home to Florida. Maybe Momma
will ride back with me so I don’t have to go alone.”

“Come stay a few weeks on the ranch with me,” Sophie said.

“And then a few weeks with me in Breckenridge,” Kate offered.

“Thank you both. I just can’t believe she’s dead,” Fancy said.

They all jumped when the doorbell rang. Fancy wondered how
her mother had gotten there so quickly as she crossed the living
room and opened the door.

“I heard Hattie died. I brought sandwich makings. What can I
do?” Tandy asked.

Fancy stood to one side, and Tandy marched straight to the
kitchen. She set two brown grocery bags on the counter and commenced unloading them. Paper plates, a large roll of paper towels,
and a box of plastic cutlery came out of one bag. A shaved ham big
enough to feed half the county, two loaves of bread, lettuce, tomatoes, mayonnaise, and mustard were unloaded from the second bag.

“Are any of you hungry?” Tandy asked.

“We just ate at the Texas Roadhouse. We were just leaving
when we got the call from Fancy’s mother,” Kate said.

“Then I’ll put all this in the refrigerator,” Tandy said. “It’ll keep
you from having to cook until after the funeral.”

“Yoo-hoo, I’m coming in,” Leander called from the living
room. “I’d have been here sooner, but I burned the first pan of
brownies and had to start all over. I’m so sorry, Fancy Lynn. What
can I do? When’s the funeral?”

“There’s not going to be a funeral. Momma said that Granny
made some kind of arrangements years ago, and she told the nurs ing home about them when she went there. No funeral. No memorial. Nothing,” Fancy said.

“That’s the biggest crock I’ve ever heard. It’s selfish, and it’s
crazy. This is the South. This is Texas. We cry when people die.
We have funerals, and we will have one for Hattie Sawyer. She’s
dead, and she can’t do a thing about it,” Tandy said.

“Now, Tandy, if she left instructions, we’ll have to abide by her
wishes,” Leander said.

“Whose wishes?” Pansy carried a casserole into the kitchen and
set it on the stove. She wore faded jeans and a sleeveless shirt. Her
arms were brown and freckled from too many hours in the sun.
“I’m so, so sorry, darlin’, about Hattie. Now tell me what I can do
to help.”

Tandy propped her hands on her hips. “Hattie left instructions
that there wasn’t to be a funeral.”

“That’s just plain not right,” Pansy said.

“That’s what I said.”

“But if that’s what she wants … ,” Leander started.

Pansy propped her hands on her hips. “She’s dead. She don’t
know what she wants. A funeral is for the living, not the dead. It’s
for closure for Fancy and Gwen and her church family. Oh, we’re
havin’ a funeral all right.”

Kate grinned. “She’ll claw her way up out of the grave and
haunt you all. I’ve always been afraid of that woman. If she told
me no funeral, I wouldn’t have a funeral.”

“Knock-knock!” Mary’s voice preceded her from the living
room. “Is everyone in the kitchen?”

“That’s right. You’re not going to believe what Hattie did,”
Pansy said.

Mary carried in a foil tray of Mexican casserole that smelled
wonderful. “She died.”

Tandy delivered the news. “She left orders to not have a funeral.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Mary exclaimed.

“Who’s blessing the house?” Viv brought in a pecan pie.

“And why are they blessing the house?” Myrle asked. She carried a sack filled with bottles of soda.

“Hattie said no funeral,” Mary said.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Hattie is dead. We’ll do whatever we please with her,” Myrle
said.

“But it was her wish,” Kate said.

“Sometimes you don’t get what you wish for,” Tandy told the
girls.

The doorbell rang. Viv went to answer it and returned with
the minister-and Theron Warren, who proved to be a deacon
of the church as well as the elementary-school principal and parttime policeman.

“We came as fast as we heard,” the preacher said. “I’m so sorry
for your loss, Fancy Lynn. The church will hold the funeral, of
course, and the dinner after will be held there too. Thursday would
be good for us, but if you need more time, Friday is fine.”

“We’ll miss Hattie. Is there anything you’d like me to do?”
Theron asked.

Fancy shook her head. “Momma said Granny didn’t want a funeral or a memorial or anything. I think she left orders to be cremated.”

The preacher frowned. “But she was a lifetime member of our
church. Her friends will be expecting a funeral.”

Viv nodded.

“However, if it was her wish, it should be followed,” Theron said
reasonably.

Fancy felt unaccountably irritated by his intrusion, however
well-intended. He didn’t have a say in the matter. He just went to
Hattie’s church.

“Momma will decide what to do when she gets here. Thank you
both for coming by, and we’ll be in touch,” Fancy said in a way
that she hoped was polite enough to dismiss them.

“I don’t agree with this. Put it down somewhere that I think it
stinks,” Myrle said.

“You are in good hands, Fancy Lynn, so we’ll go on. You let us
know what you’d like to do when your mother arrives,” the preacher
said. “Maybe we could have a moment of prayer before we go”

Everyone’s head dropped, and their eyes shut.

Fancy listened to the prayer. Evidently the woman the preacher
knew was a very different woman than the one she and her mother
knew. It was strange how so many different people in the same
room could have such varied opinions on one wizened old lady.

“Amen,” he finally said.

A moment of awkwardness followed. Finally Tandy picked up a
glass and filled it with tea. “Anyone else want something to drink?”
she asked.

“No, thank you,” the preacher said.

Theron looked at Fancy. “You’ll be going home to Florida now,
I suppose?”

Again, his matter-of-fact question riled her. “Not until after
Sunday, for sure. I’ll be there, so don’t give my job to anyone else.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said in spite of his inner turmoil. He
gritted his teeth. Drat the woman anyway. They rubbed each other
the wrong way-that was for sure. Still, she’d just lost her grandmother, and her eyes weren’t even swollen. Had she no respect at
all? “Could I have a word with you outside, please?”

She nodded ever so slightly and followed him out to the front
porch, leaving behind eight women and a preacher still arguing
about whether or not to have a funeral.

Theron took a defensive stance: shoulders thrown back, jaw set,
frown, eyes drawn down, arms folded across his chest. “Now, what
is your problem with me? I came to offer condolences for your grandmother, and you treat me like dirt. What did I do wrong?”

Fancy thought about his questions for a moment before answering. “I owe you an apology for being rude. I’m just angry. You
knew my grandmother better than I did, and that doesn’t seem fair
right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. He thought for a moment. “Hattie
was a strange little bird, but you and your mother were her only
living relatives. I don’t remember ever seeing you around town.
Why didn’t you visit more often?”

“That isn’t one bit of your business. I’ll see you on Sunday.” She
left him standing on the porch and opened the door at the same
time the preacher did. It was rude again, yes, but he’d hit a very
sore spot, and he’d never understand their reasons.

“Just call if you need anything or when you figure out what you
are going to do,” Reverend Paul said.

“Thank you,” Fancy murmured, and she went back inside the
house.

“What was that all about?” Tandy asked.

“That man is an insufferable…,” she stammered, trying to
find the right word.

“Theron?” Viv asked.

“Why, he’s a prince of a man. I never noticed until I saw the two
of you sparring out on the porch just how cute you’d look together,”
Tandy said.

Kate giggled.

Sophie smiled.

Fancy rolled her eyes.

Fancy told her mother and stepdad the story of the last conversation she’d had with her grandmother.

Gwen listened with her head cocked to one side.

Les watched Gwen.

“From day one, it wasn’t what I did, then, was it? Nothing I could
have ever done would have made it different. She just didn’t want
me and was too proud to give me away,” Gwen said.

Fancy nodded her head.

Les reached across the table and covered Gwen’s small fingers
with one big bear paw of a hand. Gwen was tiny and fragile-looking
with big green eyes, light brown hair, and a round face that didn’t
show her forty-plus years. Folks had mistaken her for Fancy’s sister on more than one occasion.

Gwen nodded. “I’m a strong woman. I forgive her. But I don’t
want to stay here any longer than I have to. I talked to her lawyer
by phone on the way from the airport. We are to sell the house and
give the money to the church. I’m never coming back to Albany,
Texas. It’s asking a lot, but will you stay and see this through for
me, Fancy?”

Fancy waited for the weeping to begin. “Momma, are you all
right?” she finally asked.

“I wish I’d known this sooner. I’d have saved thousands of dollars in therapy fees trying to figure out what I did to make her dislike me so much,” Gwen responded.

“Therapy?” Fancy gasped.

“My one secret from you. Les insisted on it when we were first
married. Even the therapist couldn’t really figure it out, just tried to help me accept it better. I may call her when I get home,” Gwen
said.

“Ready to go to bed and get some sleep?” Les asked.

For the first time Fancy realized that Les and Gwen would have
to sleep in Hattie’s bedroom. She’d have to open the door to that
room, and that idea scared her even worse than delivering the news
about Gwen’s unwanted birth. Thank goodness Les was a big
man, hitting the six-foot mark and as muscular as the day he finished his military basic training. His hair was prematurely gray,
giving him an authoritative appearance. His steely gray eyes said
he’d tolerate no nonsense. If anyone could keep Hattie’s ghost at
bay or prevent her from clawing her way back from the dead, it
would be Les. He would protect them from whatever lay behind
that door.