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Authors: Diane Craver

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BOOK: Whitney in Charge
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“How about Mom’s old friend Josie?” Whitney asked. “She does the makeup for the community playhouse. I think she’d love to be involved.”

“That’s a great idea. Remember how much fun Josie had doing mom’s makeup when she was in a play,” Shannon said.

A flash of sadness crossed Regan’s lovely face. “Mom was great as the mother in
Helen Keller
.”

“She was,” Shannon agreed, and then sat up straighter. “Since Josie’s coming to stay with you this afternoon, you can talk to her about our plans and see if she’d be interested.”

Whitney’s head throbbed. “Okay, I’ll mention it to her. I better take my pain medication. My head’s killing me.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Regan said. “You better rest.”

“I feel good at what we accomplished. We’ve done enough.” Shannon put the pad on the table. “We want our producer or what did you call it? Show runner…to be in great health.”

* * *

Jack could not believe what he’d just learned from Whitney. Knowing she was Rob Benson’s widow complicated everything now.

He inhaled a deep breath, thinking how he’d seen Rob Benson blown to bits. Not just seen…
he’d felt the blast and he’d been hit with… He hated to even remember. It was beyond description. The horror of witnessing a bomb killing Rob had haunted him for a year.

Now he had to decide what to do about Whitney. Telling her that he’d see her husband killed wouldn’t bring Rob back. But could he keep it inside and never mention what happened in Iraq? What should he do now? He definitely didn’t want to tell her right off the bat when they went out, but he didn’t want it hanging over them either.

He really liked Whitney. She seemed interested in him, but would she have a hard time forgetting he survived the bomb while it killed her husband?

If they stayed together..
for just a little while or forever… he couldn’t hide a secret like this from her. Eventually she had to know.

What if she learned that the day he died, Rob hadn’t wanted to leave the battle zone? Jack had shouted over the gunfire and mortar shells. He’d motioned for Rob to return to the chopper. But Rob had shaken his head, and although Jack couldn’t hear his words, he’d read on Rob’s lips that he needed to stay. He needed the story.

Instead of getting the story he wanted, Rob had become the story.

Yes, he’d have to tell Whitney about Rob’s death, but in his gut, he knew it couldn’t be now.

Chapter Nine

Three days after the fall, Whitney grabbed several hangers of clothes out of her mom’s closet and laid them on the bed. She hadn’t wanted to do this job herself.

When Rob had died she couldn’t bear to give his clothes away. She wanted it to be a nightmare that’d go away and not be reality. She thought she should keep his clothes for him, in case it’d been a horrendous mistake. He’d return to her. How could he be dead when there hadn’t been a body for her to identify, or for anyone to be able to say, “This is Robert Thomas Benson, husband of Whitney Benson.”

He didn’t die in the line of duty as a military man, but had died doing what he loved…
reporting the news. The bomb which killed Rob had deprived him of everything… his body, his life, his marriage, and future children. She wished they’d had a child together. Before he’d died, they’d talked about starting a family.

Regan put her hand on her shoulder, making Whitney jump as the touch yanked her from her thoughts. “Whitney, are you okay?”

“Not really. I was remembering going through Rob’s clothes and how much it hurt.”

In a sympathetic tone, Shannon said, “We can do this another day, if you want.”

She shook her head. “I’m glad you both are here to help me go through Mom’s clothes. Her clothes aren’t doing anyone any good hanging in the closet. I guess we might as well start with her pants.”

As Shannon removed a pair of black slacks off the hanger, she asked, “Is there someone we could give her clothes to now? I mean I know we can give everything to the church for their annual clothing drive, but that’s a few months away.”

“What about Josie?” Regan asked, sitting in a Queen Anne’s chair. She touched the cushion covered in a light blue material. “Mom did a good job on this chair.”

“Josie’s petite like Mom was,” Whitney said.

Regan smiled. “Mom didn’t like it when we teased her about being short? Remember?”

Shannon nodded. “She said five four wasn’t short, but she seemed shorter than that. I guess because I’m five-five.”

Whitney laughed. “That’s because she was shorter. She told me how when she measured herself, she was a bit over five three so she just rounded it off to five four.”

“Josie might not want her clothes,” Shannon said.

“You’re close to Mom’s height and size, but I wouldn’t want you to wear her clothes,” Regan said to Shannon. “It’d be too hard for me to see even you wear anything of hers.”

“She had great taste in clothes but the pants would be too short for me,” Shannon said. “And I don’t feel like wearing them anyhow.”

“We can call Josie and let her decide.” Whitney’s gaze fell on the stacks of clothes. Their mother had more clothes than she realized.

Regan chewed her bottom lip. “Josie was so sweet at the funeral telling us to call her if we ever needed to talk about Mom.”

“She misses Mom too.” Shannon sighed. “We all do.”

Should she tell her sisters about what their mother had written for them? Her mom had told her to wait a few weeks or maybe a couple of months. She’d said with the manuscript in her fragile hands, “Whitney, I trust you to share my words with them at the right time.”

Whitney had hugged her. “Maybe all our prayers will be answered and you can give it to them yourself.”

“You understand why I can’t give it now, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” Whitney knew that her mother had written it to be shared after her death. She wanted to leave a bit of herself to help them remember precious memories when they felt sad, but it also included how she’d learned to embrace her deep faith in her final days.

Regan waved her arm around the room. “We shouldn’t be going through her clothes. She should still be alive. She was only sixty-eight years old. And Daddy should still be here. He was in such good shape.”

Whitney stepped away from the clothes. “I couldn’t believe he died suddenly from a heart attack. He was always healthy.”

“He was under stress in his career.” Shannon frowned. “He was happy to retire from being a financial analyst. He said sometimes people got too angry.”

“But he was retired when he died,” Regan said.

“For only a year. Mom loved us but she missed Daddy.” Regret sparked in Shannon’s hazel eyes. “I think she finally gave up so she could be with him.”

Regan shook her head. “She didn’t want to die yet. She wanted to live for us and be a cancer survivor.”

“She loved us so much that her spirit came to each of us.” Whitney couldn’t get over how each of them had woken around four o’clock a.m. at the time their mother had died.

Shannon said, “She had to touch us in some way before she left earth. It was her way of saying good-bye before she went to heaven.”

Regan cleared her throat. “She adored her grandchildren. She loved reading to them and taking them places.”

“Talking about grandchildren, I wonder if they’d each like to have an article of her clothing to keep. Like maybe something they bought for her,” Whitney said.

Shannon nodded. “I bet they would like to have a piece of clothing. Caitlyn gave her a sweatshirt that said the world’s greatest grandma on it. She wore it a lot and said it kept her nice and warm in the cold months.”

Whitney walked to the pine dresser and stared at her mother’s jewelry box. “We can save this for another day, but sometime we need to divide up her jewelry. Caitlyn and Lily should have a few pieces too.”

“We can do it when school’s out for the summer.” Shannon asked Regan, “Is that okay with you?”

“Sure.”

“Well, let’s get busy,” Whitney said, taking clothes off hangers. “I’ll put the things we think Josie might want at one end.”

“I’ll box up her shoes.” Shannon touched a clear bag filled with shoes on the closet door. “Or if no one wants this bag, we can just give it away like this.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Whitney glanced at quiet Regan and saw her tear-filled eyes. “Honey, you don’t have to stay and help.”

“I want to stay. It’s still hard being here when Mom isn’t.” Regan exhaled a deep breath. “I don’t think Casey gets it since he still has both his parents. And Lily talks about Mom a lot. On one hand, I think it’s natural and healthy for her to voice her feelings, but at the same time it’s hard on me to hear her talk about Grandma two or three times a day.”

“Lily did ask me if I thought Grandma was okay in heaven. I told her Grandma is happy to be with Grandpa, but she misses us too. When one of us needs to talk about Mom and Dad, we should call each other.” Whitney squeezed Regan’s shoulder. “Like a sister pact.”

“Definitely… a sister pact will help us to get through this together. Mom wanted us to stay close,” Shannon said. “She said how much her sisters had always meant to her.”

Whitney
exhaled a ragged breath. “Now they’re all together.”

Regan plopped down in the chair and put her head down sobbing. “I can’t bear to lose anyone else. What if Casey dies in a fire?”

Whitney handed her a tissue, then massaged her neck. “Casey’s a strong and smart man. His father and grandfather were firefighters, and they’re still alive. So, there’s no reason to believe otherwise.”

Shannon sat on the bed across from Regan. “Casey’s good at his job.”

“Well, even good firefighters die. Things happen.” Regan wiped her nose. “I’d love to have a baby. I took Lily’s baby clothes out of storage just the other day. I can’t believe Lily was ever that tiny. But I don’t want another baby as long as Casey’s a firefighter.”

Yeah, Casey could die while putting out a fire, Whitney thought. Rob had been well prepared and never took unnecessary risks but still a roadside bomb took his life. But surely Regan won’t lose Casey too. She never wanted her sister to go through the pain she still experienced.

“This is just a suggestion,” Shannon said, “but maybe you should see about going back to work for Lynch & Kincaid while Lily’s at school.”

Why was Shannon telling Regan to return to her job as a paralegal? Was it to keep Regan’s mind off Casey’s dangerous job? She wanted both her sisters to work with her on their new venture. She thought the three of them working together would be awesome. She opened her mouth but shut it again. Maybe Shannon thought it’d take a lot of time for them to get going on their business, so Regan might as well work in the meantime.

But if they did start a partnership, disagreements were bound to happen about how to run it. She definitely didn’t want to squabble with Shannon. As the oldest, Shannon was used to being the boss. Regan might not want to work the days when Casey was off from the firehouse. Even though she’d probably be doing the bulk of the work and putting the most money in their business, she felt the decision making should be shared by all three, but she knew there would be times when it might rest on her shoulders. Would they respect her enough, so she could make the final decisions when necessary?

She had been the youngest sib long enough. She’d like to be in charge. Would Shannon and Regan give her a chance to prove herself as a boss?

Regan frowned. “If I did I’d never be home on the days Casey’s not at the station. I do miss some of the drama of researching certain cases. It was definitely fascinating reading about some of the sneaky things people did so they wouldn’t get caught. I guess my life’s a bit mundane now.”

“Hey, I’m hungry. Let’s go raid the refrigerator.” Whitney shut the closet door.

Regan gave a small smile. “While we eat, we better work on our plans for the TV show before Shannon pushes me back into the crazy legal profession.”

Whitney was also anxious to work on their business, so said, “Let’s get busy on it.”

Once in the kitchen, Regan cut the cheesecake while Shannon poured coffee and set out the plates. Before they jumped into the conversation, each took a bite of the gourmet dessert. Regan hummed her appreciation, and Whitney smiled.

“The cheesecake’s good,” Shannon said when they were all seated at the kitchen table.

Regan put her fork down. “Whit, fill us in to the ins and outs of broadcasting since that’s probably going to be our new venture.”

Before she answered Regan’s request, Whitney noticed Shannon’s frown. “What’s wrong, Shannon? You don’t seem interested in discussing our TV program.” Her sister was going to bail on her. She just knew it and she really wanted this for them to do together.

“Well, before we actually do the groundwork for our new career in broadcasting,” Shannon said. “I want to mention that I’ve been having second thoughts about us doing a talk show.”

Regan arched her eyebrows. “Is it Tim? You were pretty happy about our choice before.”

Shannon shook her head. “It’s not Tim. What if our show is a big flop? I’ve already been unsuccessful in my soap and tutoring ventures. It’d be embarrassing to fail again. I know I originally mentioned this idea, but I’m just afraid if we do it, we might be getting in over our heads and—”

BOOK: Whitney in Charge
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