Midnight Promises (28 page)

“I’m sure we won’t be able to get in that quickly,” Frances protested, still not ready for the medical verdict to be rendered.

“We’ll get in,” Karen said. “I’ll put Liz on the case. Nobody says no to Liz once she’s made up her mind about something.”

Despite her anxiety, Frances chuckled. “No, they don’t, do they? Okay, then. Tomorrow, it is, but you don’t need to stay the night.”

“You might not need me here, but I need to stay,” Karen said.

“And I agree,” Elliott added.

Frances gave them a wan smile. “Then I suppose that’s that.” She gave Elliott an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I spoiled your plans for tonight.”

“You’re far more important to us than a date night,” he reassured her. “You’re a part of our family. Now I’d better stop by the house and pick up a few things for Karen, then go over to my sister’s to get the kids. Would you like me to bring them by to say good-night, or will that be too much for you?”

“Oh, please, bring them by,” Frances said. “I’m sure they’re wondering what on earth happened to me. I need to apologize and they probably need to see that I’m fine.”

Karen nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Then that’s a plan,” Elliott said, then dropped a kiss on Frances’s forehead before giving his wife a lingering kiss of her own.

Though she felt awful about ruining their night out, Frances couldn’t help being grateful that Karen was going to be here. Despite her attempt to gloss over what had happened earlier, the incident had shaken her as none of the other minor memory lapses ever had. With the kids involved, things could have been so much worse. She’d be on her knees tonight, thanking God for keeping them safe at school. She knew in some cities with a less attentive school staff, they could have been left on their own to try to find their own way home. Who knew, then, what awful thing might have happened?

* * *

Karen didn’t sleep a wink all night. Though Frances had shown no further memory issues for the remainder of the evening, Karen had been deeply shaken by her forgetting her promise to pick up the children at school. Whether it was Alzheimer’s or something less dire, the lapse wasn’t good. The thought of watching her friend go through a long, slow decline was heartbreaking.

After a restless night in the guest room, she finally dozed off near dawn and awoke to the scent of bacon frying and coffee perking. In the era of microwaves and coffeemakers, the two aromas of more old-fashioned preparation made her mouth water.

She found Frances in the kitchen, already dressed and smelling of her favorite lily of the valley scent.

“You look as if you slept well,” Karen said.

“I did,” Frances admitted. “Better than I have in a while.” She studied Karen. “You, however, don’t look as if you slept a wink.”

“I couldn’t seem to turn my mind off,” Karen admitted.

“While mine doesn’t seem to be operating at full tilt half the time,” Frances quipped.

Karen stared at her. “How can you joke about this?”

“What else is there to do?” Frances said. “It’s not as if I can change it.”

“There are medicines,” Karen protested, then realized she didn’t really know that. She added with less certainty, “There must be.”

“None that change the course of this,” Frances said. “Believe me, Flo has been searching the internet for weeks now. There are a few promising things that could slow the progress, but they’re not effective indefinitely.”

“Has Flo looked for other possible diagnoses?” Karen asked, wanting to believe that her research had been incomplete, even though as the mother of the compulsively organized Helen Decatur-Whitney, it was unlikely there would be anything haphazard about Flo’s approach.

“You’ll have to ask her,” Frances said. “She and Liz will be here shortly. They’re joining us for breakfast.”

“I wondered why you were making enough bacon for an army.”

“We all figure we’re past the age of worrying about our cholesterol,” Frances said. “How many weeks or minutes can it possibly take off our lives at this late date? I’ve already had a full life. So has Liz. Flo probably has a few good years left in her before she accepts the inevitable the way Liz and I have.”

“I wish you’d stop talking as if death is just around the corner,” Karen said, shuddering.

Frances gave her an apologetic look, but she didn’t pull back. “Sweetheart, we’re all going to die. Once you get to my age, the only question is whether we’ll go out with a bang or a whimper.”

Karen fought down despair. “I expect you to go with a fight,” she commanded.

Frances chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Now, enough of this dreary talk. Do you know that Flo has a boyfriend?”

Karen couldn’t help it. Her mouth dropped open. “Does Helen know?”

“Not if Flo’s had her way,” Frances confided. “She’s pretty sure the knowledge would give her daughter a coronary.”

“Then I certainly won’t be the one to tell her,” Karen said, sketching a cross across her chest. Impulsively, she stood up and gave Frances a fierce hug. “Is it any wonder I admire you so much?” she said. “You, Liz and Flo inspire me. I want to be you when I grow up.”

“Oh, my darling child, you’re your own woman and, if you ask me, you’re pretty terrific just the way you are.”

“And
that’s
the other reason I love you,” Karen said. “Until you came along, I never really understood unconditional love.”

Frances regarded her with a sad expression. “Surely your mother…”

“You know better,” Karen said. “But I do have you, and I count that among my blessings every single day.”

And what on earth was she going to do if she lost that unwavering support, the woman who’d been her sounding board and fiercest protector through every crisis? The prospect was almost too much to bear.

* * *

Adelia jumped when the front door of the house slammed shut. A minute later, Ernesto walked into the kitchen, his expression stormy.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded, throwing a credit card bill onto the table. “Do you think I’m made of money?”

For too many years Adelia would have cowered under that glare of his and promptly offered to return whatever offending item had set him off. Not any longer. He might handle their finances, but she knew to the penny what was in their bank accounts.

“Is there a problem?” she inquired, keeping her tone even.

“You’ve spent hundreds of dollars at that spa where your brother works in the past week alone. Since I see no evidence that you’ve shed so much as an ounce, what have you been wasting it on?”

“Actually I’ve lost five pounds already,” she said, unable to keep a note of pride out of her voice. Then, because she couldn’t seem to resist, she added, “I thought I’d whip myself into shape for whatever—or whoever—comes along next in my life.”

The comment clearly rocked him back on his heels. “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve obviously moved on. Why shouldn’t I?”

Color flooded his cheeks at the cavalier remark. “If I discover so much as a hint that you’re cheating on me…” he began.

Adelia held his gaze and dared him to complete the thought. “Yes?” she said eventually. “What will you do? Complain about the indignity? Divorce me? That ought to provide a lively courtroom experience.”

He simply stared at her then. “What’s happened to you?” he asked eventually.

“I’ve discovered I still have a spine,” she told him with unmistakable pride. “I warned you it could happen. Now you have to figure out how you intend to deal with it.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head, turned on his heel and walked out.

Adelia watched him go, a sense of wonder spreading through her. A few months ago, even a few weeks ago, she would have been terrified by having spoken so boldly, with such defiance. Now all she felt was a sense of triumph. It might be too late to get her marriage back, but it obviously wasn’t too late to find herself.

* * *

Elliott had spoken to Karen earlier in the day, checking to see how Frances’s appointment with the doctor had gone. Unfortunately there would be no definitive diagnosis without further testing, and he’d recommended a specialist in Columbia for that. It would be a couple of weeks before that happened.

He was still worrying not only about Frances, but about the impact of this on Karen when he walked from the spa over to the gym. When he entered, he was surprised to find that the walls in the main room had been finished and were now a cheery shade of sage green. If it had been up to him, they’d have been pale gray, but Maddie had convinced him that even men would appreciate a hint of color.

“If you go with gray, with all that steel gray and black equipment, it will soon look as dingy as Dexter’s,” she’d insisted.

As he glanced around, Elliott had to admit she’d been right. It looked clean and inviting. It was hard to believe that in another couple of weeks, the doors would be open. He’d finally have a business with a potential share of some decent profits. At long last maybe Karen would be able to put her worries over money behind her.

He found the rest of the guys on the back deck taking a break.

“What are you all doing out here slacking off?” he asked. “There’s still work to be done.”

Ronnie lifted a beer in a mocking salute. “We’re brainstorming,” he said. “The beer helps.”

Elliott nodded, appreciating the concept. “Let me grab one and I’ll brainstorm with you. What’s the topic?”

“We need to come up with a name for this place,” Cal said. “Maddie’s having a cow because she can’t finalize advertising or get a sign ordered without a name. She refuses to call it The Club, which was my suggestion.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Travis said. “Even I can see that would have its drawbacks, such as not giving people so much as a clue about what kind of club it is. For all they’d know, we could be offering illegal poker games or smoke-filled cigar rooms.”

Elliott grabbed his own beer, then propped himself against the deck railing. “Any other options so far?”

“What are we going to be?” Tom asked. “A gym, right? For men. So how do we put some kind of spin on that? It’s pretty basic.”

“The women were basic with The Corner Spa,” Erik commented. “Spa says classy. The Corner Spa gives it a nice cozy, friendly feel. Turned out to be the perfect combination.”

“Well, we’re not on the corner, and I don’t think Middle of the Block Gym would cut it,” Travis quipped.

“Dexter’s was just Dexter’s,” Elliott noted.

“But he owned the place,” Ronnie said. “We have a partnership.”

Ronnie shook his head. “Who ever thought that naming this place would be harder than getting it renovated?”