Once Upon a Project (30 page)

She related yesterday's incident, including her clashes with their father and older sister, then sat back expectantly, waiting for them to express indignation.

Todd looked puzzled. “Mom . . . I don't get it. Who is this guy, anyway?”

Elyse's mouth fell open. This wasn't the response she'd anticipated. Hadn't Todd heard what she just said about the terrible things that had been said to her, or had he been unable to get past her having lunch with a male friend? “I told you, an old friend. We were kids together. It's always nice to have someone to tell your troubles to.”

“But why not Annie?” Brontë asked, shaking her head, referring to the nurse who was Elyse's closest friend at work. “Or one of your friends from the projects whom you grew up with, like Miss Susan?”

Elyse tried not to show her disappointment. Her own children were acting like she had done something wrong.

“Because,” she said testily, “my friends are busy with their own families, and besides, sometimes even very good friends can act strangely when illness hits close to home.” Neither statement was one hundred percent true. Only Susan had young children, and only Grace sounded a little stiff and unnatural when she called to offer assistance, like she really didn't mean it; Pat expressed genuine concern and support. Elyse had no doubt that they would react the same way when they learned of Franklin's relapse. But she needed support and had to give as many valid reasons as possible, since Todd and Brontë couldn't get past this man/woman thing.

“And because Kevin suggested we have lunch together,” she continued. “He wanted to try to cheer me up. What was I supposed to do, turn him down and keep trying to manage by myself just because of his gender? My having lunch with him is no different than if I ate with Susan, Pat, or Annie.” She grunted. “I'll bet Rebecca wouldn't have been on the phone to Frankie if that had been
Susan
sitting on the same side of the booth with me trying to get me to stop crying.”

Elyse watched as Todd and Brontë looked at each other. “Mom's right,” Brontë said. “You and I are down at school. She should be able to lean on any of her friends who's available, even if it's a man.”

“Answer this question for me,” Elyse commanded. “Do you honestly believe that I would cheat on your father with anyone?”

“No, Mom,” Todd said. “And I think Dad was wrong to say those things to you. Rebecca, too.”

“Let's go in and talk to him now, Todd,” Brontë suggested.

“Come on. We'll see Rebecca as soon as she gets up.”

Relief flooded through Elyse. This was more like it. She needed a show of support. Maybe the kids could make Franklin see how silly he was being. “Why don't I make us all a nice breakfast? I'll get it started while you two are in with your father.”

As Elyse mixed pancake batter, her thoughts kept going back to the half-truths she'd just told. She'd gotten Todd and Brontë over to her side of the issue, but she'd done it under not entirely accurate circumstances. It didn't feel good.

As she heated the electric griddle, she decided to confide in her friends when she saw them next week, provided anybody showed up.

Chapter 50

 

“T
his was smart, to meet at three o'clock,” Susan remarked as she glanced around the restaurant with its empty tables. It's too late for lunch, and too early for dinner, so we avoided the crowd and they won't rush us out of here.”

“At least not until the dinner rush starts,” Grace said.

“This is what we'll do,” Pat suggested. “Whenever we notice the waiter looking at us funny, somebody order another drink. They won't ask us to leave if we're still spending money.”

“But they will if we get drunk,” Elyse said with a laugh.

In the end they ordered a bottle of Merlot. Elyse hoped the liquor would help everyone relax. She could practically reach out and feel the tension in the air.

The waiter filled their glasses. “I propose a toast,” Susan said, holding up her glass. “Here's to almost fifty years of friendship. May we always be there for each other, through ups and downs, good times and bad. . . .”

They clicked glasses and drank. “All right,” Pat began, “I know that you two know that Grace and I were on the outs, but we had a good talk on the drive up here, and we'll be all right. Won't we, Grace?”

“You betcha. I'm just glad that everything worked out with you and Andy.”

“Yeah, it did. I'm feeling very happy these days.”

“Do I hear wedding bells?” Susan asked, her voice ringing with excitement.

“No. But we're in love and we're happy. It's been too long since I've been able to say that.” Pat looked at Elyse. “And how's everything with you? How's Franklin?”

Elyse swallowed. She didn't want to put a pall over their luncheon. “He's not doing too well. The cancer has spread, and it doesn't look good.” She stopped to listen to the sympathetic murmurings she'd known would come.

“You seem like you're dealing with it pretty well,” Grace commented.

“I think it helps that after his first diagnosis Franklin and I did a lot of talking about what we would do if this happened. But he didn't tell me then that he wouldn't want to undergo more treatment because he didn't want me to get upset.”

“I guess it would be different if his remission had lasted longer,” Pat said cautiously.

“I think so, too. But he was never cancer free. There was always a possibility that it would show up elsewhere in his body.”

“Why didn't you tell us sooner?” Pat asked.

“Is there anything we can do?” Susan asked.

“I'm still trying to come to terms with it. And, yes, there is something you can do. I'd like your take on something that happened the other day. I was having lunch with Kevin, and when I told him about Franklin's prognosis I broke down. He came to sit on my side of the booth to comfort me, and at that moment in walks my stepdaughter. She told her brother, and he told Franklin, and Franklin's been mad at me ever since. He said some pretty nasty things to me.”

“I'm a little surprised that you told Kevin about Franklin before you told any of us,” Pat said. “Are you two really all that close?”

“No, not really. We'd actually had a disagreement. After Franklin's diagnosis, I asked myself if my own life was tied up in a neat little bundle if I were to die suddenly, and I decided to make up with him.”

“What happened with you and Kevin?” This from Grace.

“It wasn't really a disagreement,” Elyse clarified. “We'd just finished having lunch, and he walked me to my car. Before I got in he suddenly grabbed me and . . . kissed me.”

Susan's jaw dropped. “He
kissed
you?”

“Yes.”

“From the guilty look on your face, I guess it was no quick peck on the lips.”

Elyse didn't back down. “I won't lie to you. It felt real good.”

Susan shrugged. “I'm sure, but it wasn't appropriate behavior, feeding you his tongue in a parking lot. Did he have the decency to apologize?”

“Yes. Well, sort of.” She recounted what Kevin had said to her.

“So you made up,” Pat said. “That's a good thing, but you don't plan on seeing him again, do you? It seems like he caused a lot of trouble in your household, even if it was indirectly. And I agree with Susan. He had no business kissing you.”

“Why shouldn't I see him again? Kevin showed me affection. He showed me that he thinks I'm attractive. You have no idea how wonderful that sounds to me after having to put up with all Franklin's insults. If I try to get him to eat something he'll say things like, ‘You're a lousy cook,' or, ‘I wouldn't put it past you to poison me so you can be the merry widow.' ” She grabbed a napkin and furiously dabbed at her eyes; it hurt just to repeat the things that came out of Franklin's mouth.

Susan took a deep breath. “Elyse, I'm so sorry. It isn't fair for Franklin to say those things to you. It's verbal abuse, and I'm sure it hurts almost as much as if he'd physically slapped you. But if you continue to see Kevin, you might do something you'll regret.”

That thought had occurred to Elyse, but she didn't want to admit it. Instead she fixated on Grace. “Grace, you've been awfully quiet. What do you think?”

“Are you sure he's not after something?” Grace asked bluntly.

Elyse's eyes narrowed. “Listen, Grace. I might not work out like you do, and I admit I need to lose some weight, but it's still a stretch for you to say that the only way a man will find me attractive is if there's something in it for him.”

“That's not what I meant, so don't get your nipple in a knot. I'm just saying that men often have ulterior motives, and that Kevin is no different from anyone else. Trust me, Elyse. I've been out there in the dating world a long time.”

“Kevin doesn't know anything about what I have or don't have. I don't wear designer duds or tool around town in a Maserati.”

“No, but think about it. He knows what you do for a living. Physical therapists make good money, Elyse. I'm sure he also knows that Franklin is a software developer. I'm sure the fact that you live in Lake Forest has come up. Elyse, there are no poor folks living in Lake Forest, just people like Michael Jordan and Lovie Smith.”

Elyse looked taken aback, realizing that Grace had a point. “Those guys are millionaires. Franklin and I are hardly in their league,” she finally said.

“So you don't have a thirty-room mansion. You still live in one of the nicest suburbs in Lake County. Plus, I'm sure you mentioned that both your children live in campus housing down in Champaign,” Grace concluded. “A person doesn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that you're no pauper. Kevin is an exterminator. You have to consider that his kissing you all of a sudden might be related to the fact that you're well off and your husband is in failing health.”

Pat slammed her palm down on the table. “Grace, do you have to be so damn blunt?”

“No, Pat, it's all right,” Elyse said quietly. She hoped that her two friends' truce wasn't about to go out the window, for she couldn't deny that Grace had a valid point. “It's something I have to consider.”

“You'd be nuts not to,” Grace said, casually buttering a roll.

“Do you get that a lot, Grace?” Elyse asked. “Guys with ulterior motives for dating you?”

“Yes, Grace, do you get that a lot?” Pat asked with a smile.

Grace's suddenly stiff body language relayed that she didn't enjoy having the focus shift to her. “Yes, it's been a problem before,” she admitted. “As you well know,” she added, her eyes fixated on Pat, “that's why I broke up with Eric. If he wasn't asking for the keys to my car and my house so he could ‘watch' them for me while I'm traveling, he was making really cutting remarks about my job.” She bit into her roll. “I just decided he wasn't worth it anymore.”

“I think you made the right decision,” Elyse said gently. She felt rather sorry for Grace, who, with her two failed marriages and countless affairs, brought new meaning to the expression “unlucky in love.”

“He's really no different than the rest. They all feel threatened by my education and my income.” She shrugged. “It's hard to find suitable black men out there to go out with.”

“You've just outgrown him, that's all,” Pat said. “You know, you can always see Glenn Arterbridge. He asked me about you just last week.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Not that again. He's a nice man, good-looking and all that, but there's no sex appeal. And without that, why bother?”

Susan watched the exchange curiously. “Maybe you ought to lower your standards just a little bit, Grace. Where there's good looks there's
always
sex appeal.”

“Yeah, somewhere in that fifty-inch waistline.”

Susan blinked.
Fifty-inch waistline? Ugh.
“Oh.” She turned to Pat. “Pat, I know you've got a boyfriend, but did you have as much difficulty as Grace trying to find good dates?”

“No, not really. But I never went out as much as Grace. I decided I'd rather be by myself than be with somebody just for the sake of being with them.”

“Well, la-de-da,” Grace said. “Elyse, Pat's no different from me. She just goes out with white guys instead of black ones.”

“That's not true, Grace,” Pat protested. “You make it sound like I date white men exclusively. I can't help it if I have more in common with the white guys I come across. All the successful black guys are married. And I won't go out with guys who don't have a level of education and success that's reasonably comparable with mine.”

“In other words, no moving-and-storage guys,” Grace said knowingly. “And no Orkin men, either.”

“I hate to sound like a snob, and I wish that wasn't the way it is, but it's a rare man who can handle having a woman who's more successful than he is. I would have loved to have fallen in love with a nice black man, at least before I hooked up with Andy.”

“I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you finally bring him home to meet your mama and daddy,” Grace said. She caught Susan's eye. “See what you're missing out on by being happily married, Susan? All this men drama.”

“Um . . . Maybe I'm not so happily married.”

Three voices spoke a single syllable in unison.
“What?”

“There're some things going on in my life that you don't know about, but I decided it's time to talk to someone,” Susan said. She told her friends about how breast cancer had destroyed the passion in her marriage, and how she reached out to Charles Valentine and fell in love all over again. As she expected, her friends at first expressed shock at learning she was a cancer patient. It warmed Susan's heart when they assured her how wonderful she looked.

“Thanks. I feel good. I just try to take it six months at a time.” But she didn't want to focus on her illness, not with what Elyse was going through with Franklin. Instead she recounted how she and Charles had broken up after he continually pressed her to leave Bruce for him, and how she lost her temper and asked how he intended to support her and her children.

“Ouch,” Elyse said. “That's probably the worst thing you can do to a man. Attack him in the pocketbook.”

“I couldn't help it, Elyse. It wasn't fair for him to nag me about leaving Bruce when he had no plans for what would happen after that.”

Elyse nodded. “True.”

“I can't believe you've been having an affair,” Grace said. “You'd leave Bruce for Charles? You said it yourself, Susan. No way can he provide for you the way Bruce can.”

“And
you
said it yourself, Grace. You've got to have sex appeal to have a happy relationship. As far as my husband is concerned, I don't have any.”

“Susan, it seems to me that you're being hypocritical,” Elyse said. “You tell me not to have an affair with Kevin, but you slept with Charles.”

“And now that it's over, I feel worse than ever. And Elyse, I truly believe that if you sleep with Kevin or anyone else while Franklin is on his deathbed, you'll never forgive yourself. I think it will haunt you always. Nothing makes cheating right.”

“That's easy for
you
to say. You're not the one being criticized all the time.” Her head was bent, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

“Elyse, if you sleep with Kevin, you'll only be doing it to soothe your pride. You'll hate yourself afterward. And you'll always regret cheating on Franklin.”

“Yeah, well, did
you
regret cheating on Bruce?”

“No,” Susan admitted. “But I know he has someone else. Franklin is coping with a serious illness. That's different. I know how that feels, too, and I think it's even more difficult for men.” She tried a different tack. “Listen, I'm not saying not to have an affair with Kevin. I'm just saying don't do it now, while Franklin is still your husband. At least wait until he's gone.”

Elyse blew her nose. “I understand what you mean. I truly do love my husband. But lately I don't like him at all.”

“I wish there was something I could do,” Grace said. “I'm in complete shock. I thought you two both had great marriages. And I never dreamed that you were ill, Susan. Why didn't you tell anyone?”

“Because I wanted to keep it personal.” She wanted to smack Grace. Even as Grace had spoken, her eyes kept going to Susan's chest, like she was thinking,
Now, which one was it again?
And Grace had the nerve to ask why she'd kept her condition secret?