Once Upon a Project (35 page)

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Authors: Bettye Griffin

BOOK: Once Upon a Project
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“Dad, you shouldn't torture yourself with those types of thoughts,” Todd said.
“I can't help what I think. I've got nothing but time to think about the future of my family, and how I won't be here to see it. I won't see Frankie's children grow up. I won't be here to walk Rebecca and Brontë down the aisle when they marry. I won't see you and Brontë graduate from college.”
Tears ran down Elyse's cheeks, but she made no sound.
“I can accept my fate now. But I'd want to die right away, Elyse, if you left me. You mean the world to me.”
She tried to speak without breaking down. “Everyone has a breaking point, Franklin, and you pushed me dangerously close to it with the things you said to me this afternoon. But I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere.”
At that point Todd began backing toward the door. He slipped out of the room silently.
“Our son is quite a man, isn't he?” Franklin remarked.
She laid her head on his chest. “Yes, he is. I love you, Franklin. Don't you ever doubt that again.”
He stroked her hair and her cheek. “I wish I could take it all back. I'll never forgive myself for hurting you the way I did. I love you, baby, now and always.”
Elyse sat up. “I'm going to get ready for bed. I'll be with you in a few minutes, all right?”
He chuckled. “Where'm
I
going?”
As Elyse scrubbed herself during a quick shower, she kept thinking,
If only he had said this to me yesterday. If only he hadn't called me a ho tonight. If only I could take back my actions just like Franklin wanted to take back his words.
It sickened her that she couldn't even meet his sincere apology with a kiss, but instead could go no closer to him than his chest, because she hadn't had an opportunity to wash off the evidence of intimacy with another man.
One thing she knew for sure. She could never see Kevin Nash again. He was a living reminder of the most low-down action she'd ever taken in her life.
Chapter 57
Early December
Chicago
 
G
race beamed across the table at Pat. “This is nice, isn't it? The two of us having a quick drink after work before our dates get here.”
“It's nicer for some of us than others.
You'll
get a ride home in Glenn's car service.”
“One of the perks of being a judge; you don't have to drive yourself to work. I think you've got a good shot at finding that out yourself one of these days. Pat, I can't thank you enough for inviting Glenn to the party you and Andy gave; otherwise I never would have known he'd lost so much weight.”
“Part of me wanted to tell you last summer that he was becoming a shell of his former self, but something told me to wait until he'd reached a size I felt you could live with. And in the meantime I kept hoping you'd get rid of that Eric.” Pat made a face. “As much as I felt him to be wrong for you, I didn't know if I'd feel comfortable with your dumping him just because someone better came along.”
“Oh, yeah. That one was definitely headed down the wrong path.” Grace shook her head. “But, you know, Eric would be considered a catch by a lot of women. He has a reasonably good job, he's handsome, has no children, and he knows how to hang up his clothes. He's no Oscar Madison. And he's great in bed.”
“True, but you're not most women, Grace. I believe that some relationships can work if the woman makes more money than the man, but it takes a special man to do it.” Pat took a sip of her wine. “So tell me how things are going with you and Glenn.”
“Real well. We went to dinner last Saturday and talked for hours.”
“And then?”
“Then we went back to my place,” Grace said innocently.
“And then? Did Miss Grace give it up on the first date?”
“Oh, hell. I've always been a pushover. Besides, I haven't had sex since I broke up with Eric, and that was months ago.” Her mind indulged the memory of that night with Glenn, and the next thing she knew she was wearing a grin as wide as her face.
“I take it he curled your toenails.”
“Well, I'm not one to kiss and tell, but I will say this . . . Glenn's a big man.
All
over.”
They dissolved into a fit of giggles.
Chapter 58
Late December
Chicago
 
“S
usan, you'll have to give me a refresher,” Bruce said as they drove toward the church in Bronzeville where Franklin's funeral was being held. “I haven't seen your friends in a long time. Now, Elyse is the bereaved, right?”
“Yes. Her husband's name is . . . was Franklin.”
“And Grace . . . Is that the one with the pointy chin?”
She laughed. “You'd better not let
her
hear you say that. The proper term is ‘heart-shaped face.'”
“Maybe, but with that chin she could give the Wicked Witch of the West a run for her money.”
“Bruce, you're awful.”
“Sorry. Okay. Who did I leave out?”
“Pat. She's the one who knows everybody. She'll be there with her boyfriend. He's white.”
“I guess I'll be able to spot her easily enough.”
She gave his thigh an affectionate squeeze. He'd surprised her when he said he would go with her to Franklin Reavis's funeral. Sometimes it seemed like old times between them. She knew it would end the moment they got to their bedroom, but easygoing times like these made life a little more pleasant. She still had two months to go before she had enough recent experience to start looking for a full-time job, after which she'd sit him down and tell him she wanted her freedom. Even with that, she saw no reason for relations between them to be frosty.
“I guess there'll be a bunch of other folks you'll want to introduce me to,” he remarked.
“No, I don't think so. Most of the people from the old neighborhood probably went to the wake last night so they won't have to miss work.” While many people did take vacation time the week between Christmas and New Year's, many others did not. “This will be family, close friends, and coworkers, maybe some folks from church.”
“Just as well. So the only names I have to remember are Elyse, Pat, and Grace.”
“Yes. You know, I should probably warn you about Grace. She's on the lookout for a new husband, one who makes more than she does. She's seeing someone now, but he's just a judge. High on prestige, but not exactly pulling in the big bucks. If anything happens to me, she'll probably try to move in on you.”
“That's ridiculous, Susan. She's your friend.”
“Yes, but she's always felt that once a relationship is over she can try to wiggle her way in. She did that with my first boyfriend, and with one of Pat's as well.”
“I think that's low-down.”
“I just thought I'd warn you,” she said loftily, before turning her face away and looking out at the passing scenery.
“Susan.” Bruce said her name like it was a command. She turned her head to look at him.
“I know what you're thinking,” he said. “I just have one word for you: Don't.”
She feigned innocence. “Don't what?”
“Don't go thinking that the next funeral will be yours. You're not dying of cancer, Susan. You're
living
with it.”
She blinked back tears. That was exactly what she'd thought the moment Pat had called her with the sad news of Franklin's passing the day after Christmas. Bruce knew her so well, better than anyone, even Charles. What a sweet thing for him to say.
At moments like this she felt blessed, in spite of the worry and unhappiness she lived with every day.
 
 
Pat held her breath as she and Andy entered the church. She wondered if her parents had arrived yet.
Her mother had suggested that they all drive up together, but then Pat told her that Andy was escorting her. “Your father won't like that,” Cleotha said after a long pause.
She had responded without hesitation. “Then he might want to stay at home. You be sure to tell him that, all right? I have to go now.” Then she'd hung up the phone. She hated to be rude, but she had to stick to her guns. She'd just turned fifty a few days ago. She wasn't some child who lived under his roof whom he kept fed and clothed, abiding by his rules in exchange for the privilege. Hell, for years now she'd been helping take care of
them.
She could be doing a whole lot with that two hundred dollars she gave her parents every month.
“You all right?” Andy asked. “Your arm went kind of stiff.”
Pat quickly realized that she'd allowed her entire body to go rigid with all the tension she felt. “I'm fine,” she said.
She knew that her parents had missed her over the holidays, but she'd eagerly accepted when Andy asked if she'd like to celebrate both Christmas and their fiftieth birthdays at the cabin of a friend of his in Breckenridge, Colorado. They'd been born the same week, he on the nineteenth and she on the twenty-second. They'd flown out on the eighteenth and returned two days ago. Pat knew that Franklin had little time left and had pleaded with Elyse to call her if she needed to talk, or if anything happened. Elyse called the evening of the twenty-sixth, as she and Andy were packing, to inform her that Franklin had passed away that afternoon.
Pat had spoken to Elyse since she'd been back, but she hadn't seen her yet. She knew from Elyse that Franklin's last weeks were happy ones, that the two of them had made up, and that Franklin got the entire family together to ask them to stop sniping at each other. Of course, he'd really been talking to his older children, both of whom had been trying to curry favor with him by criticizing their stepmother and younger siblings. Pat wished she could smack that Frankie and Rebecca for behaving so badly. She remembered how Elyse used to take them everywhere when they were kids, to the movies, to Six Flags, even once to the water parks at the Dells.
But at least Franklin had passed away with his wishes made clear, and with his relationship with Elyse intact.
 
 
Grace adjusted the face netting of her hat. She'd nicknamed it the I'm-so-sorry-for-your-loss hat because the only time she wore it was to funerals. She paired it with a tailored black suit and simple black slingbacks, and she had to admit she looked good.
Once out of the car, she slipped her arm through Glenn's. He gave her a reassuring smile, and once more she thought to herself how glad she was to have him with her. How lucky for her that he'd taken vacation time this week. Pat had Andy, and Susan had Bruce, at least as an escort. She didn't want to be the only one to show up alone.
God knows that if she was still seeing Eric, he would balk at taking a day off to attend a funeral of someone he didn't know, the husband of someone he barely remembered. To get there, she would have had to dangle over his head the Mercedes he liked driving so much, possibly even tell him she needed someone to lean on if she got upset during the service. The likelihood of her getting that distressed was nonexistent, but that was beside the point.
But how nice it was to have someone she didn't have to bribe or cajole. Glenn helped her out of his Cadillac STS and took her arm. He'd insisted they leave in plenty of time before the service, much to Grace's annoyance. She doubted anyone would even be there yet.
The moment she got inside the church she craned her neck. “I don't see Pat.” Then she spotted Ricky Suárez and his wife sitting in a rear pew, and she steered Glenn to the pew directly behind them. She wasn't surprised to see Ricky, for she knew that Pat had sent out e-mail notices about Franklin's passing to everyone who signed the guest book at the Dreiser reunion luncheon.
Ricky turned at the sound of movement behind him. “Grace, hey!” He leaned forward to give her a quick hug, then shook hands with Glenn, introducing himself before Grace could do it, and presenting his wife, Miranda.
“Hello, Miranda. I remember you from the reunion luncheon last spring. Nice to see you again.” Grace beamed at Ricky's wife, who in spite of her beauty looked rather dowdy in a long-sleeved black dress with a white collar. Then Grace introduced Glenn.
“Pardon me for not getting up,” Miranda said, patting her stomach. “It's getting more difficult these days.”
Grace stared at Miranda's midsection. She was pregnant. No wonder she looked so drab.
“Well, congratulations to you both,” Glenn said. Grace managed a big smile.
“Thanks. Four more months to go.”
“There's Susan,” Ricky said. “And Pat's with her.”
Grace turned to see the Dillahunts pausing to sign the guest book while Pat and Andy waited their turn. They stepped aside to let someone pass, Andy placing his hands casually on Pat's shoulders to move her out of the aisle. Grace stole a glance at Ricky. The surprise in his eyes told Grace he recognized Andy as Pat's date from last summer. Did he figure she'd be alone and he could flaunt his pregnant wife in front of her? Grace wondered.
She waved Susan over. Susan said something to Pat, who was now signing the guest book, before walking over with Bruce. Introductions followed. Grace was surprised that Bruce remembered her name. Wow, was he good-looking. And fit.
And
rich. Too bad he was such a prick. Imagine avoiding your spouse because of his or her medical condition. Didn't he know that marriage was supposed to be for life?
Grace wasn't dismissing her own two failed marriages, but they ended because both parties were unhappy. That made it a little different. Susan would have been happy to spend the rest of her life with Bruce if he'd handled her illness like a man instead of a cowardly lion.
Pat and Andy joined them. Time for another round of hellos, how've-you-beens, and introductions. Grace noticed that Pat didn't seem the least surprised at seeing Ricky, nor did his being there seem to cause her any dismay. Grace considered that maybe she just didn't care.
Good for you, Pat. It's about time.
Finally someone got around to the point about why they were all there.
Pat glanced at her watch. “The service isn't scheduled to start for another ten minutes. Since we're all here, why don't we go up and offer condolences to Elyse?”
“I think that's a good idea,” Susan said.
“I think I should stay here, Susan,” Bruce told her. “This isn't the time for renewing old acquaintances. I'll get to speak with her after the service.”
“I'll wait here, too,” Glenn added.
Grace rose to her feet. “Well, all who's coming, let's go.” She led the entourage of Pat, Susan, and Ricky.
The organ music seemed louder in the front of the church. A rich-looking mahogany casket was on a stand just opposite where Elyse sat, flanked by Todd and Brontë. A black hat with a large brim obscured much of Elyse's face.
Grace's eyes automatically went to the casket. She stood in front of it for a moment and gazed down at Franklin. His face looked thinner than she remembered and older than his sixty-three years, but didn't look particularly weathered. She wondered if the funeral director had puffed it up somehow, like he'd clearly done to Franklin's chest.
She bowed her head and said a prayer, then gracefully turned to Elyse.
What could she possibly say to comfort a woman who'd just lost her husband of twenty-six years?
 
 
Susan waited for Grace and Pat to finish viewing Franklin's casket. She considered going over to Elyse while the others prayed with bowed heads, but felt she should pay her respects to Franklin first, so she merely waited. She could tell from the redness of Elyse's eyes that she'd been crying. “This is going to be difficult,” she said to Ricky.
“I know. I never know the right thing to say to people at a time like this.”
After Pat and Grace turned to Elyse, Susan and Ricky took their places in front of the casket. Susan bowed her head and said a prayer. She opened her eyes and looked at Ricky, whose eyes were closed and whose lips were moving. She turned to face him as he crossed himself, and her eyes went to the man waiting to the left.
It was Charles.
She swallowed, then quickly looked away. What the devil was Charles doing here? She thought he'd have been among those attending only the wake last night.
The answer came to her just as quickly. The schools were closed for the holiday break. She'd had to engage a sitter to stay with Quentin and Alyssa.
She hadn't seen him since their last ill-fated meeting downtown last summer, but he crept into her thoughts often, especially at night.
Charles had probably decided to come to the service rather than the wake because he knew she'd be here. She didn't know if he wanted to try to convince her to renew their affair, or if he wanted to make the break official and tell her no hard feelings. No doubt he expected she'd be alone. The fact that Bruce was here complicated matters for both of them. What was she going to do? How could she act naturally with Bruce when Charles was so near?
Ricky, unaware that his friend from the old neighborhood stood just a few feet away, took her arm, and together they went to speak to Elyse.
Elyse's face was wet with tears, and Susan's heart broke for her. Brontë, too, had obviously been crying, while Todd tried to be stoic and move into his place as the man of the family. Also in the front pew sat Elyse's stepdaughter and her stepson and his family. Pat and Grace had moved back a few pews to converse with Elyse's parents, the Hugheses.
As Susan feared, Charles caught up with Ricky, who invited him to sit with them for the service. Her spirits dipped. How was she supposed to introduce her lover to her husband?
Pat said good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, having assured them that she would do what she could to comfort Elyse in making the difficult adjustment from wife to widow. She then headed for the pew where Andy waited, looking straight ahead and smiling when he saw her approaching.

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