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Authors: Bettye Griffin

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“Like I said, I don't think you have to worry about it getting that far,” her father said, stubborn to the end.
“We respect your wishes, Pat,” Cleotha assured her. “The last thing Daddy and I want is to interfere with your happiness a second time. If you and this Andy get serious about each other, Daddy and I will learn to live with it.”
“I appreciate that.” She didn't bother to point out that she and Andy were already serious. Instead she pulled her clasped hands apart and patted the tabletop with her palm and flashed her sunniest smile. “Now, anybody for pound cake?”
 
 
After her parents left Pat thought about what she'd said. Funny, in hindsight it had seemed so easy to hold her ground. Thirty years ago, though, everything had been different. She'd been a nineteen-year-old desperate to make her parents happy after the tragic murder of their youngest child. Because Clarence had already gone down the wrong path, Pat knew that she alone represented her parents' dreams of success.
They hadn't steered her wrong. Her father had taken on a second job as an extra hand on a moving crew to earn extra money to help her pay for what her scholarship didn't cover. Her mother had registered to do some weekend housecleaning. Pat had always been a good student, but she wasn't as smart as Grace, who'd been awarded a full scholarship. Pat remembered protesting when Cleotha insisted that she learn to type back in high school. “I don't want to be a secretary, Mama,” she'd said. “I want to go to college. I'm gonna be a lawyer.”
“And you
will
go to college, Pat. But it's going to take a long time to get your law degree. It won't hurt for you to have a back-up skill.”
Cleotha had been right. Not only did Pat, who typed ninety words a minute, make a nice amount of money typing up term papers for her fellow students, but she did temporary office work during school vacations.
Pat knew her parents loved her and wanted the best for her, but Grace was right. It was time to let them know they weren't the engineers of her life.
Chapter 53
Late November
Pleasant Prairie, Wisconsin
 
S
usan looked up when Bruce returned. “Anything wrong?”
“Yes. There's a problem at the office. I'm afraid I've got to get up there.”
“But it's a holiday,” Frances McMillan protested.
“I know, Miss Frances. But people are always using their credit cards. Money never sleeps. I'll try to get back. Y'all just go ahead and watch the movie without me.”
Susan's father, sister, and brother-in-law expressed regrets that he had to leave, but Susan said nothing. She didn't believe it.
It certainly hadn't taken Bruce long to find another sweetie to cuddle up with. Susan deduced that the time Bruce spent at home last summer happened only because he and his flame of the moment had broken up. The one he'd replaced her with must be plenty demanding, for he spent more time than ever away from home. She didn't think he'd have the nerve to leave on Thanksgiving when they were hosting her entire family, but here he was, leaving again.
Work, my ass.
 
 
Bruce still hadn't returned by the time the family had their dessert and went home, all except for Frances, who was staying with them so she and Susan could hit the stores before daylight the next morning. Frances went to bed early, and Quentin and Alyssa stayed up watching TV. Susan retired to her bedroom and tried to read, but her thoughts kept going to Charles. How had he spent the holiday? Did he and Douglas call a truce long enough for them to sit down to dinner with their mother and Douglas's wife and daughter? Most important, had he been thinking of her?
No, that's not right. He
shouldn't
be thinking of me. He's supposed to move on, find himself a nice girl, and settle down.
Their romance simply wasn't meant to be. The first time she'd walked out on Charles, and now he'd walked out on her after she said something that he no doubt interpreted as an attack on his ability to provide. At least, she thought sadly, they were even.
Susan's plan called for her to start looking for full-time work in March. She wanted six months of recent experience on her resume to convince prospective employers that she knew how accounting was handled in today's market. At that time she'd tell Bruce that she wanted a divorce.
The timing would work out perfectly. She was due for her next six-month cancer screening in March. If she received another clean bill of health, she'd move on. If she didn't, well, she wasn't exactly stuck, but there seemed little point in starting a new life if not much time remained.
Chapter 54
Late November
Chicago
 
P
at went into Andy's kitchen to get matches for the candles. She and Andy were hosting their first joint get-together: a postdinner Thanksgiving cocktail party at his town house. She'd eaten with her parents, and he with his, but their situations differed in that Kurt and Renate Keindl had come to their party, while only Cleotha represented the Maxwells.
Pat had brought her mother herself after Moses flatly refused to attend. He seemed shocked by Cleotha's insistence; she had deferred to his wishes throughout most of their long marriage.
“Your father is just being stubborn, Pat,” she said on the ride over. “He'll come around. Don't worry.”
Pat was glad to have her mother present. She'd been a little worried about meeting the senior Keindls for the first time. In addition, Andy's ex-wife and her husband had driven down from Buffalo Grove to drop off his daughters, who would spend the rest of the weekend with him, and stopped in to have a drink.
The swinging door opened as Pat rummaged through the drawer. “Hey, you all right in here?”
“Oh, yeah. I just want to light the candles.” She held up a grill lighter. “Voilà!”
“I just wanted to make sure nothing's wrong.”
She knew he was referring to her father's absence, plus unexpectedly having to meet his ex-wife face-to-face. “You are so thoughtful. No wonder I love you so much.”
He bent to kiss her, then spontaneously pulled her into his arms for a quick embrace. “I'll go with you when you bring your mother home. Then I'm expecting you to spend the night with me.”
“But Lauren and Kaitlyn are here. I figured I'd just go home.”
“I'm tired of doing that. My daughters aren't babies, Pat. They know the facts of life. I don't think we have to tiptoe around protocol.”
She shrugged. “If you're sure it's all right . . . okay.” She really didn't think it was a big deal, but she wasn't a parent and was prepared to defer to his judgment where his children were concerned. She'd once mishandled a similar situation, disagreeing with a date's rules for his kids in front of the youngsters, which put the relationship on a downward slide from which it never recovered. She didn't want to repeat that error with Andy.
It amazed her how happy she was, now that she'd gotten rid of her baggage and given her full emotions free rein to love Andy. She still remembered what he'd said the night he brought her home after their disastrous dinner at Nirvana: “I'm in love with you, Pat. It really hurt me to see you reduced to a quivering mass of Jell-O because you saw an old boyfriend, especially one from such a long time ago. Maybe you don't feel the same way about me. I could try to win you over, but experience has taught me that if a woman is hung up on another man there's no point in going on. I know you're denying it, but the way you reacted shows you're still hung up on him.” Then he'd kissed her cheek. “When you get over him, give me a call. Maybe I'll still be around.”
He'd been so honest with her, and yet she was unable to admit that she still had feelings for Ricky. Her instinct told her that Andy was telling her the truth when he said he was in love with her, and as happy as that made her, she'd nonetheless held back on committing her heart to him, and she didn't understand why.
When Grace confessed to her that she'd had an affair with Ricky, Pat had her answer. In the deepest recesses of her heart she'd still hoped for the happy ending with Ricky. His acquiring of two wives wasn't even enough to get her to drop a notion that anyone with half a brain would recognize as ridiculous, but learning that he'd slept with Grace did the trick.
Pat then shared the details with Elyse, who'd been the one to tell her years ago that she'd seen Grace at the movies with Douglas Valentine. This happened after Susan broke up with him, but Elyse didn't know whether she should tell Susan or not. She'd called Pat to seek advice. Neither of them felt it was right for Grace to date Susan's ex. In the end they decided to tell Susan about it, and they were surprised when Susan didn't seem fazed.
Like Grace, Elyse had also urged Pat to make up with Andy. “He cares about you very much, and no man wants to feel that the object of his affection is pining for someone else.”
She was awfully wise, that Elyse. Pat hoped she would make it down to the party. Franklin's condition had deteriorated, and Elyse had said that he might not even live out the year.
Thank God Elyse is getting moral support from her children, Susan, and me.
Even Grace tried to spend more time with her, heading off to Lake Forest after work.
Pat hoped Elyse would heed Susan's advice and stay away from Kevin Nash. She had nothing against Kevin, but he'd done so little with his life, and Elyse had accumulated so much. It just seemed like an ill-fated match, whether Franklin was alive or not.
Susan had told Pat she wouldn't be able to make it to the get-together, but Grace was coming. Pat couldn't wait. She had a surprise for her.
In the living room, Pat stopped to chat with a few of their guests. She noticed her mother talking with the Keindls and Glenn Arterbridge, and Andy's ex and her husband talking with some of his friends, and Andy with one of her fellow prosecutors. They'd assembled an eclectic mix of people, and it seemed to be working. Lauren and Kaitlyn passed hors d'oeuvres to the guests. A mixture of jazz and standards played in the background on CDs that had been specially downloaded through a paid service. Pat smiled as Glenn and her mother began to dance to Nnenna Freelon's cover of “If I Had You.” The party was on. Grace, as usual, was late.
 
 
Cleotha cornered Pat a half hour later. “Congratulations, dear. It's a lovely party. And your boyfriend is a delight. He's paid special attention to me and really makes me feel special.”
“You
are
special, Mama.”
“And his parents seem like nice people. Of course, I don't know what they'll say to each other privately—”
“Oh, Mama, look. Grace is finally here.” Pat said a silent prayer of thanks for Grace's well-timed arrival.
Grace handed her coat to Kaitlyn and nodded to people she passed as she made her way to Pat. As usual, she looked lovely, today in an angora sweater dress belted at the waist and suede boots. “Hi! Sorry I'm late.”
“I know you wouldn't have it any other way,” Pat said affectionately as Grace embraced Cleotha.
“Where's Mr. Maxwell?” she asked, glancing about.
“He's at home. But there are some other people I'd like you to meet,” Pat said quickly before Grace could ask any more questions.
“Oh. Sure!”
“Will you excuse us, Mama?”
“Go ahead. I'm going to flag down the girls for another one of those celery sticks. I love the filling.”
Pat introduced Grace to the friends of hers and Andy's whom she hadn't met. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Glenn approaching.
“Hello, Grace.”
Pat was supposed to be following the conversation, but she couldn't resist sneaking a look at Grace's expression when she saw Glenn. The judge had increasingly lost weight over the past year and had reduced considerably. He was still a large man and probably would never be lighter than two-fifty, but he had lost the rotund center that Grace had found so unappealing.
Grace, as Pat expected, didn't hide her shock. Her eyes grew wide, and her jaw dropped. “Glenn! I almost didn't recognize you. You've lost quite a bit of weight, haven't you?”
“Well, I was having difficulty getting a date, and I had a feeling it had to do with my physique.” He held out his hand. “Dance with me, and I'll tell you all about it.”
She took his hand and he led her to a cleared area of the room.
Andy appeared at Pat's side and poked her waist with his elbow. “They look good together.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Do I sense a little matchmaking in play here?”
“Glenn had been asking me about Grace. I thought it might do her good to get a look at his ‘after' self, since she wasn't interested when he was so heavy.” She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. “Can you blame me for wanting everyone to be as happy as I am?”
“Hi, Pat. I made it.”
She looked up to see Elyse, but her face froze when she recognized Elyse's companion.
Kevin Nash.
Chapter 55
E
lyse thanked Kevin as she reached for the drink he'd prepared for her. She spoke with Cleotha Maxwell, accepting her good wishes for Franklin's health and explaining that his daughter Rebecca was sitting with him. Cleotha seemed sincere, but her eyes kept going over to Kevin, who was charming another group. Elyse knew Pat's mother wondered who this man was who'd escorted her. “I don't know if you remember Kevin Nash. He went to school with all of us.”
Cleotha frowned. “I can't say that I do. Did his family live in Dreiser?”
“No. They had a house a block from where I moved when we left the projects. Anyway, he's been very helpful to me since Franklin has been ill. He's helped me understand illness from a man's perspective.”
“I see. Elyse, would you mind terribly if I went to sit down? I'm getting a little woozy. It must be the wine.” She chuckled.
“Not at all. You go right ahead.” Elyse caught Pat's eye and saw her cock her head toward the hallway. She'd been waiting for this. Pat wanted to know what was going on.
As Elyse entered Andy's home office at the front of the town house, she saw that Grace also wanted to know, for both of her friends sat in wait.
Elyse had barely closed the door behind her for privacy when Pat began. “Elyse, is everything all right?”
“Of course.”
“You didn't leave Franklin by himself, did you?”
“Of course not. Rebecca is with him. My kids went to the movies with some friends. I had to get out of there. He was brutal to me.” Her face contorted as she tried to hold back the tears. “I was starting to put it behind me until you brought it up. Thanks a lot, Pat.”
“I'm sorry, Elyse. I'm just so shocked to see you here.”
“Me, too,” Grace echoed.
“I felt safer if Kevin was with me, so I called. He and his son were at his parents' house, but getting ready to leave.”
“He has a son?” Grace asked.
“Yeah, with Lucy Key. He's grown now, in his late twenties.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Lucy, yeah. I think she's a great-grandmother by now.”
“Grace, we all know that Lucy had her first baby at thirteen, but that's not what we're here to discuss,” Pat said sternly. “The important thing is Elyse.” She turned to their friend. “Is there anything we can do?”
“Nothing. I appreciate your asking, but if you'll excuse me, Kevin is probably starting to wonder where I've gone.” She left the room.
Pat and Grace looked at each other. “My God, what do you suppose Franklin said to her?” Grace asked.
“I don't know, but it must have been pretty damn awful for her to run to Kevin.”
“He's good-looking and charming, but there's something about him that bothers me, Pat.”
“I feel the same way. But we've done all we could. It's up to Elyse now.”
 
 
The party broke up around eleven. Andy and Pat walked out with the remainder of their guests—his parents and ex-wife had left quite some time earlier, and Cleotha was clearly ready to go home. Andy and Pat were driving her.
Elyse said good night to her friends. She tossed her car keys to Kevin. “You know how to get back to your apartment better than I do.”
“So Pat's got herself a white boy, huh?” he remarked during the drive.
“Yes. They seem very happy.”
“The brothers not good enough for her?”
“I don't think it's that, Kevin.” She hoped he wouldn't say anything else; she really didn't feel like talking. Now that they'd left the party, melancholy had started to set in.
She couldn't remember a worse holiday. First of all, Frankie had asked if his mother, Carolyn, could join them for dinner. Elyse agreed, although less than thrilled with the idea. Normally Frankie, his family, and Rebecca dined with Carolyn, but because of Franklin's illness both of his older children wished to spend Thanksgiving with him.
He'd come to the table in elastic-waist drawstring pants and a long-sleeved polo shirt and ate next to nothing. Elyse sat seething on the opposite end of the table as Carolyn, who managed to seat herself on Franklin's left, fussed over him and fed him small bites of food.
After dinner Franklin sat up briefly, but eventually had to take a pill for his bone pain and went to bed. Shortly afterward, Brontë came to Elyse in tears. She and Todd wanted to go to the movies along with a group of their friends, and Rebecca had commented that their doing so suggested they didn't care about their father.
That bitch,
Elyse thought. To Brontë she said, “You two run along. Don't you worry about Rebecca. I'll set her straight.”
She waited until after the kids left before confronting her stepdaughter, who was sitting in the living room with Carolyn and had been jumping up every fifteen minutes to go check on Franklin. Rebecca had been annoying Elyse all afternoon with that dutiful-daughter routine, at one point even saying to Elyse, “I just checked on him, he's fine,” when Elyse headed for the bedroom. She'd simply ignored her stepdaughter and the dramatic sharp intake of breath she knew had come from Carolyn.
Frankie and his family had already gone, headed to spend some time with his in-laws, by the time Todd and Brontë left. Elyse decided to speak in front of Carolyn. “Rebecca, Brontë told me what you said to her. I think it's despicable for you to say such a thing.”
“Now, wait a minute, Elyse—”
“No,
you
wait a minute. How dare you suggest to Brontë that she and Todd don't care about their father because they wanted to see a movie. How many times have
you
been to a show on the days you don't get up here? Todd and Brontë have been here every single weekend for months now, all the way from Champaign; while you aren't able to make it all the time just from Evanston because you've got plans. So do you want to tell me again who's showing the most concern?”
“Elyse, is this really necessary?” Carolyn asked calmly.
“Keep out of this, Carolyn. Rebecca, you owe your sister and brother an apology.”
Franklin's voice called out something from the bedroom.
“That's Pop,” Rebecca said, halfway out of her chair.
“That's another thing. Stop trying to do my job. Franklin is my husband, and I'll take care of him. Don't you
ever
tell me not to go check on him.” She turned and went to see after Franklin.
“What's all the fuss about?” he asked.
“There were a few problems I had to straighten out. I'm sorry if I woke you. I didn't think we were that loud.”
“What problems?”
She told him what Rebecca had said to Brontë. “I also needed to straighten Rebecca out about trying to stop me from coming in to check on you.” She turned at the sound of the bedroom door opening and gasped. Not only had Rebecca entered without knocking, but Carolyn was right behind her.
“Pop, Elyse is lying on me,” Rebecca said. “She claims I said something mean to Brontë, but I didn't. I just suggested that she should spend as much time as she can with you.”
“That's bullshit, and if you don't believe me, ask Brontë when she gets back.”
“Franklin, you know our daughter doesn't lie,” Carolyn said.
Elyse raised her chin defiantly. “Neither does ours.”
“Brontë's a good girl, Franklin,” Carolyn agreed, “but I doubt she's above exaggerating some to elicit sympathy. After all, Frankie and Rebecca tell me things have been pretty tense around here lately since you discovered Elyse spending her lunch hours trysting with another man.”
Elyse stared at her, speechless. Even Rebecca looked startled.
Elyse looked to Franklin. “Either
you
say something to that, or so help me,
I
will.”
“Carolyn, you always had a tendency to overdramatize. If you'll remember, that's why I left your ass.”
“Franklin!” she exclaimed, her chin dropping.
“Pop, did you have to—” Rebecca began.
“Carolyn, will you please leave the three of us alone for a few minutes? We need to discuss our family business.”
Carolyn had little choice but to leave. As she did so she glared at Elyse. “This isn't over.”
“Just get the hell out of my bedroom.”
“All right,” Franklin said after she'd gone, “I don't know what's going on, but I want it to stop right now. Rebecca, I'll be talking with Brontë tomorrow. If you did say what Elyse told me, you were wrong, and you owe your sister an apology.”
“I didn't mean it, Pop,” she said quietly, a sob catching in her throat.
Elyse straightened her spine triumphantly.
Sounds like a confession to me
.
“All right. You can go.”
Elyse remained at his bedside. When the two of them were alone she said, “That wasn't much of a defense you put up for me. If it'd been up to me, I would have told her to leave the house.”
“Can I help it if everybody knows you're making a fool out of me?”
“I'm not making a fool out of you, Franklin. I broke down in a public place because I was sad about your cancer coming back. You won't make me feel guilty for that, no matter how hard you try to.”
“Yeah, with some dude you went to school with. I'm sure he was more than willing to provide you with a shoulder to cry on. But I guess that's what I get. Everybody told me I was nuts to marry a girl from the projects.”
She squared her shoulders. “I may have lived in the projects, but my family moved out long before I met you.”
“Don't go putting on airs with me. Once from the projects, always from the projects. And you seemed so damn proud of it when you went down to that reunion. Probably couldn't wait to see what other project peeps you could take up with.”
“I haven't taken up with anyone. And Kevin never lived in the projects. He was from the neighborhood, and we went to the same schools, but he never lived—”
“Who gives a shit where he lived? He went to that bar looking for somebody he could have an affair with. And there you were, having turned yourself into a lady, with your diamonds and your hair styled so perfectly. You might look like a lady, but you're just another ho from the hood.”
Her eyes filled with stinging tears that she fought to keep from spilling out. “You don't mean that, Franklin.”
“Why don't you go back to the South Side? Go live in the projects. It's where you belong. I gave you everything, a house in Lake Forest, but you'd rather be in the ghetto. So bring your ass on back there.”
Abruptly Elyse left the room. She ran down the hall to the powder room, not wanting to stay in the same room as Franklin another second. She turned the cold water on full force and rinsed her face, the cold water from the faucet mixing with her warm, wet tears.
She could hardly believe these words were coming out of her husband's mouth. If he wasn't weak and sick she would give his shit right back to him. But he was dying, and she didn't have the heart to hurl such cruel words at him.
But that didn't mean she had to stay here. She needed to get out before she lost her temper and gave Franklin what he deserved.
 
 
Elyse grabbed her coat and purse and ran out into the night, ignoring Rebecca's pleas to know where she was going. So Rebecca felt she could take care of Franklin better than she could? Fine. Let her do it, at least until Todd and Brontë got home.
In the car she called Kevin. She'd already decided to drive down to Pat's get-together in Lake Forest. She had scribbled down the information on the notepad she always carried in her purse, so she had the address. The navigation system in her dashboard would tell her how to get there. But she was a little apprehensive about parking and walking in the city after dark. Maybe Kevin would go with her, since he lived north of Andy Keindl's town house.
He answered and agreed to go to the party with her.
 
 
Elyse was glad she'd gone, but now that it was over she dreaded going home. A worried Todd had called her when he and Brontë got home and Rebecca informed them that she'd walked out without a word to anyone. Elyse told Todd that she was at a cocktail party given by her friend Pat—conveniently leaving out the fact that she'd stopped to pick up Kevin on the way. Todd didn't ask what had driven her out of the house in such a hurry. He probably already knew the answer.
Traffic was remarkably light from the South Side up through downtown and points north. Elyse attributed it to people going to bed early so they could hunt down bargains in the morning, when stores would open as early as 5
AM
. They got to Rogers Park in no time, to her dismay. She'd been hoping for one of those traffic snarls that made the Dan Ryan Expressway so notorious. Damn it, it was just her luck to be out on one of the few nights of the year when everybody else was at home.
She wasn't ready to go home, back to more insults and ridicule.
Kevin easily pulled into a space on the street, just around the corner from the entrance to the three-story brick walk-up where he lived. He removed the keys from the ignition and handed them to her. “I don't know what's going on with you, Elyse, but something tells me you'd like to stay out a little longer before you go home.”
She shrugged. “It's the same thing that's been going on for over a month. My husband is behaving beastly. If he wants to insult me all the time, let him get along without me.”
“Why don't we talk about it?”
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