The Last Maharajan (Romantic Thriller/Women's Fiction) (17 page)

An aroma of coffee filled the morning. She swirled her cup and watched an eddy bursting with cream build in its chocolate-colored center.

She looked up and watched a 747 taxi up to the accordion gate outside the window. This town was too familiar, too close, and all she wanted was to get home.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

She walked into the house. A bouncing barking, belly-aching dog ran straight into her leg, his way to greet her. When she bent down to pet him he began his pogo-stick-routine. How can you beat that kind of love but, then, she imagined Geoff acting that way and thought, I’d have to buy a gun.

“Calmly, Jonathan.”

“He knows you’re here when the birds start chirping.” Geoff called from the couch in the living room. When she walked into the room, he looked over his shoulder at her and away from the golf tournament he was watching. She watched the control display shrink as he turned the volume down. The TV droned like background noise. She couldn’t help feel a pang of disgust pool out of her and onto the floor. It seemed nothing had changed in the week she was gone.

“The birds chirp all day long and the dog barks all day long.” She shuffled through some mail and saw she had another obit request.

“Jonathan, mommy’s in a bad mood.” Geoff channeled his comment through the dog which irritated her more. Then, he turned back to the TV and began to talk about Tiger Woods’ performance that day. Nothing seemed different from the day she left. He went on about golf as if she gave one shit. She’d managed to carry in all of her luggage in one trip but now was paying the price. Plus, the dog was still jumping for attention and pulling at her purse and bags adding extra weight and stress on her spine.

“Get down.” She barked at the dog. “Jeez, Jonathan. Give mommy a break.”

“How do you feel?” Geoff didn’t move from his spot.

“Okay. Want dinner?” By now she was hungry and inspecting the cupboards for a quick fix to quell her churning gut.

“What do you have?” He didn’t hear how his question handed over accountability to her.

“What do I have? I haven’t been here in a week.” They danced around the problem but still spiraled toward it.

“All right. Stop. You just got home. Can’t this be pleasant?”

Euly stopped pulling food out of cupboards and stood stiff with her back turned to him.

“Salmon, chicken breasts, and filet mignon.”

“Is that all?”

“Those are the entrees, which do you want?”

“Well, what’s with them?”

“Vegetables, salad, rice – the usual.”

“No potatoes?”

“No, Geoff. You’re diet doesn’t include them. Remember?”

“But, I want them.”

“Too bad.”

“You’re nice.” He smiled and turned his attention from the commercial. He got up and came into the kitchen. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I missed you.”

“I can’t do this right now. Let me get my bearings.” They’d managed to hit an uncomfortable snag and it wasn’t smoothing out anytime soon. It was one of those things you hear people talking about how marriage isn’t easy and you’ll have times when you wished you weren’t married at all. She wanted to be left alone. She’d only just gotten home and she wanted to be alone.

“What’s this?” He pointed to the form for a new obit.

“New dead person needs text.” She opened the package of salmon and placed it in a glass dish.

“Nice.”

“Yeah, it pays the bills.”

“No, I mean the “new dead person” comment.”

“Oh. Sorry. The newly deceased human being needs me to write a glowing obituary for him.”

“Good lord, Euly.”

“What? Do you want me to get emotionally involved with each person who needs an obit?”

“I guess I just expect a little more compassion, that’s all.”

“Compassion is for friends and family members.” She didn’t really mean any of it but was saying it nonetheless. “Look, I treat the surviving family with the utmost respect and concern. You’d think you’d know that by now since this is the way I’ve been making my living since before I met you.” And, just like that, they were back into the snag.

“You wonder why I watch golf.”

“Well, you act like I’m not nice to these people. I am. You’d think I could be myself with you every once-in-a-while. Can’t I? With you? I mean, you are with me.”

“You’re not as open about that either sometimes.”

She put her hands onto the counter and looked into the sink. It was dirty from a bowl of cereal, a spoon of peanut butter and a plate with mysterious yellow particles crusted onto it.

“Look, let’s drop this. I got another job, period. That makes,” she counted aloud and on her fingers, “five from last week, this one makes six and it’s only Wednesday. If this trend continues, I can take next week off and work on things that I want to work on.”

“Wow.”

She looked up at him to see if he was jibing her or if he was being serious. Her eyes flickered as they measured his face.

He must have sensed her doubt. “No, really, Euly, that’s great.”

“This one is for seven-hundred words with links and two photo inserts. I’ll bill close to seven hundred. The others I’ll get out this week are all around six hundred. That’s close to three thousand dollars this week. Pretty good, huh?”

“Yep.” He paused.

She turned to him glowing with pride and assumed he was thinking about her run of fortune when he continued, “I wish we were having potatoes.”

His sudden flip to the unrelated topic made her anger flare up fast. She would have a record-breaking week and he wanted stupid potatoes.

“Yeah, well, we’re not. We’re having rice.”

Steamed rice, she thought.

Everything thing he said or did lately angered her. She felt like getting out of it once and for all.

The refrigerator reeked of something dead – something rank. Geoff caught a whiff of it too. He commented how awful it was before ambling back to his spot on the couch.

She’d been home less than an hour. She was amazed the ray of anger she beamed into the back of his head didn’t explode his skull right then and there, but it didn’t.

He remained oblivious there in front of the big screen as he watched a little white ball make its way across another distant golf course green. She envied him, the way he could escape to some other place in his mind, some refuge. She couldn’t without packing suitcases and buying an airline ticket.

She squeezed half an orange over the salmon and sprinkled on salt and curry pepper as a marinade. Then, she drizzled olive oil over it and turned the pieces of fish dredging them in the juice. While she prepared dinner she remembered, she was protected. The property was hers from the last failed marriage. The prenuptial agreement made sure of it.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

The sun was setting behind a thick bank of clouds. Belle had a resolved air about her. Her time had been used up, her secrets revealed. Sadness no longer held her life in check. Her lungs did. It was more a sense of closure that Euly detected in her mother’s voice. She spent this moment with her mother watching her, watching for signs of her dying.

The air was unmoving and crisp while they sat under a scrawny-armed elm out in the courtyard. It was obvious Belle had taken a downward turn.

She could see her mother struggling for oxygen. Euly thought they would’ve had longer. She hoped until the spring.

A dark cloud billowed and filled the sky. It seemed so near she felt she could reach out and grab its thick cotton boll. And the scent casting off hinted of snow, not rain this time, snow. She thought, you could tell snow was coming every time – thick with salt as if the ocean itself froze and sent its messenger, telling everyone to go in for the season and rest, to pull over a thick quilt and sleep. This winter’s message was one Euly wanted to postpone. She wanted time to freeze there as they sat together outside in the cold. She looked away from her mother and breathed in deeply.

“It’s frosty.”

“Are you too cold, mother?”

“No, it’s nice, it makes me feel alive.” Euly didn’t respond. Belle had earned the right to say what she felt even if it upset Euly. She closed her eyes and pressed her chin to the sky.

“I spoke with Enaya yesterday. We had a nice long chat.”

“That’s good.” Euly opened her eyes and wondered what the conversation was between them.

“She’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“She should be here in the morning, early.”

Euly looked at her watch. Night was coming on. “She’s getting a rental car and will come directly here to see you, okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was quiet as if she didn’t mind one way or the other.

“You know, mom…”

“Euly?” Belle interrupted. “Have you ever wished you can turn back the hands of time?”

“Boy. Let’s see. I can’t count that many times on my arms and legs, fingers and toes.”

“One thing I’ve learned is mostly things happen for reasons. But, if there was ever a time in my life that I could change things, it would only be so I could spend more time with you girls. Not to change outcomes. Does that make sense?” Euly looked over at her mother but Belle continued to talk before she could respond. “Try not to judge yourself to harshly dear. It’s simply not worth it.” Then, Belle looked directly into Euly’s eyes. “Will you promise me that, Euly? Promise me you’ll go easy on yourself?”

Euly grabbed her mother’s hand and, holding it to her face, began to cry. But her mother wasn’t done.

“Be good to your sister, Euly. She’ll be all you’ll have of our little family after I’m gone. Find it in your heart to be good to your sister. She loves you so much, honey. Do you know that?”

Euly nodded that she understood her mother and wiped her nose. “I know mom.”

“By the way, young lady, how did you become so critical?”

Euly shook her head knowing her mother wasn’t finished.

“It’s a waste of time.” Belle paused for a several heartbeats before she went on. “Love your husband.” She breathed in and out. “He’s a fine man.” She breathed again. “Quite a catch.”

She squeezed Euly’s hand and continued in a whisper. “He has been here… every day… since you left… quite a catch… that one.” She paused and struggled in another breath. “He brings me things... Like I need things...” Her eyes glistened and she smiled. She patted her daughter’s hand.

Her final stream of whispered words showed Belle’s unusual strength at this point. “He doesn’t know what to do with us. We Masada women are tough eggs, you know? He doesn’t know what to do with you.” She looked at Euly and took in air. “Look at me, Euly.” She meant to drive home a point by putting one finger under her daughter’s chin. Euly let her do it and when she looked at her mother, she noted how her eyes looked like an old dog’s, fogged over and glassy.

Euly nearly choked her own breath.

“He doesn’t know what to do with
you
.” She whispered hard. “Try to understand he’s just a man. They don’t think like women. Our minds are always on high alert, always going in all different directions, all the time.” She tapped her head with one finger. “They don’t get us. You have to be kind.” Belle paused, put her hands to her heart, gasped once but then relaxed back into her chair. “I can’t talk anymore. Okay?”