Same Beach, Next Year

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  “So, Dad? What exactly are the plans for a funeral?” I said.

  “Not going to be one,” he said. “I’ll tell you all during supper.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Dad was clearly very unhappy and there was no reason to press him for details then.

  Cookie was in the kitchen, also miserable. She was putting supper together and weeping for her lost friend. And I was avoiding her as much as possible. I had enough trouble on my hands thanks to her.

  I decided to take a middle road with Eliza and pretend that everything between us was, as my boys used to say when they were little, hunky-dory. Max and Luke were coming in late that night, both of them driving. I didn’t know if they had clean sheets on their beds and I didn’t think they would care if they had them anyway. Eliza had always seen to that kind of thing.

  Eve and Carl were bringing Daphne down Thursday. Whatever the plans were to lay Clarabeth to rest, we would all go along with them. Anyway, we had more than enough food to get us all through the weekend, and on top of everything else, Cookie made a trip to Harris Teeter for soft drinks and other groceries. Nobody was going hungry. Clarabeth was barely cold, and as expected, Cookie was at the helm. The thought of Cookie making serious moves on my father sent a chill up my spine. I could possibly have that horror show of a woman in my life at every turn instead of once a year at Wild Dunes, which I imagined was canceled anyway until further notice.

  Dad was struggling to hide his emotions but doing okay, all things considered. He was still weepy now and then. When something would get to him, some memory of something or when he noticed an object she treasured, he would break down. That’s why I was there—to offer sympathy and to give him a shoulder. I think the abrupt circumstances of her death made everything harder to handle. It had to have been traumatic for him to hear her falling and then to see her lying there motionless at the bottom of the stairs. I couldn’t imagine the pumping adrenaline rush and the surge of panic he must have felt. He was lucky he hadn’t given himself a massive stroke.

  Dad and Clarabeth had been married for only four years, but I’d say all their years together had been very happy ones. I knew he was going to miss her something awful. She did everything for him. While Clarabeth was much older than Dad, it had never really seemed so until just recently. I could see signs of her slowing down, and she’d had slight mobility issues for the past ten years or so. We just chalked it up to osteoarthritis. If you lived long enough, something would most likely hurt.

  I heard a car door close. Eliza. I got up, went to the front door, and opened it. There she was, walking toward me. She seemed different. Maybe there was more purpose in her stride or maybe she had on a new coat. I couldn’t remember ever seeing the one she was wearing.

  “Hey, there!” I said, with a friendly smile on my face.

  “Hi, Adam,” she said, flatly.

  She took off her sunglasses and looked at me straight in the eyes in such a way that I knew I was still in very deep shit.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  “I’m perfectly fine, Adam. How’s Dad?”

  “He’s broken up but he’s coping pretty well.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the den,” I said and stepped aside for her to cross the threshold.

  She moved past me without touching me and I thought, Wait a minute! Not even a hug? Apparently not. I followed her inside.

  “Hey, Dad!” she said. “I’m so sorry about Clarabeth.”

  Dad got out of his recliner and held out his arms to her. They embraced each other and he kissed her cheek.

  He said, “She was a great lady and I loved her. Thank you. I’m glad you came, Eliza.”

  “I wouldn’t let you go through this without me at your side,” she said.

  I smartly said, “Because you’re a great lady too.” She turned around and looked at me as though I had on one of those gag arrow headband things that appears to be going in one ear and out the other. “Can I get you something to drink? That’s a long flight, I guess, huh? Dad? You want something?”

  “No, son, but thank you.”

  “Eliza?”

  “I’ll get something for myself in a few minutes,” she said, obviously not wanting to accept any hospitality from me.

  I left the room and headed for the kitchen, thinking, So, is this how it’s going to be? Well, I can spread the frost too. I could hear Clarabeth in my mind saying, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. God, she was a funny woman. A motormouth, yes, but a nice one. I’d miss her too. I was half wishing her spirit would haunt the house and scare Cookie away.

  Cookie was there in the butler’s pantry taking plates from a cabinet and flatware from a drawer.

  “Eliza’s here,” I said. “Straight from the airport.”

  “Oh! Wonderful! How was her trip?”

  “Long, I imagine.”

  “Is everything between you two all right?”

  Emboldened by the somber occasion that brought us together, I said, “Thanks to you? No.”

  She gasped and said, “What possible thing could I have done to add to your unhappiness? I merely told Eliza the truth. What I can’t believe is that the four of you have been gallivanting together for all these years and you kept your history with Eve a secret! You and Eve never told your spouses! Lying is disgraceful.” She then busied herself opening and closing cabinets, looking for something that wasn’t where she thought it should be. “This kitchen was organized by a crazy person.”

  I reached in the refrigerator, took out a beer, and popped the top. I took a long drink and stared at her, giving her the most murderous expression I could muster.

  “Some things are better left unsaid, Cookie. And you know what? It might be nice if we buried Clarabeth before you redecorate her house.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Stanley. Your father is a dear friend to me and nothing more.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “I’ll have you know I have a date this weekend with a very nice man I met on social media.”

  “Is that so? Watch out. He might be an ax murderer.”

  “He happens to be a retired investment banker from New York City, for your information.”

  “Well, if he wants a referral, tell him not to call me. I’m going back to talk to my wife.”

  “You want my advice?”

  “Not especially.”

  “Well, here it is anyway. Make up with her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  It was the first useful thing I’d heard come from Cookie’s mouth since this whole debacle started. I liked her better when she was a drunk. So, she had a date, did she? God help him.

  I found Eliza right where I’d left her, in the den with Dad.

  “Eliza? Can I peel you away from Dad for a moment? I want to talk to you.”

  I saw her inhale and accept the inevitable. She stood up and started walking in my direction. She had to talk to me.

  “Let’s go in the living room,” she said.

  “Okay,” I said. “The boys are coming in tonight.”

  I sat on the huge floral-print sofa and she sat on the opposite end.

  “I know. They sent me an e-mail,” she said and looked around at the room. “This room is very aqua.”

  “And pink. Well, you know Clarabeth.”

  “And long on fringe. Yeah, well, she was a glamour-puss.”

  The walls were pale green, like Granny Smith apples, and the raised panels were painted gold. It was too Marie Antoinette for my taste.

  “Yeah. She was that. So, Eliza? Where are we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are things okay between us?” May as well get right to the point, I thought.

  “I think you know that they aren’t.”

  “So what are you telling me? That you live in Greece now? That you want a divorce?” I was trying to get the truth without letting her know how upset I was.

  “I’m telling you
nothing of the kind, Adam. But here’s what I am telling you. I have family there that I haven’t seen since I was a child. Lovely, educated, successful family with children and lives that I’ve known nothing about all these years. I feel like the last twenty-something years flew by so fast and I was so busy working for you and raising our boys that I never, ever saw a window of time that I could use to see what the rest of my family was like. And that’s crazy.”

  “But you haven’t been miserable with me and Luke and Max, have you?”

  “Let’s not put my relationship with the boys on the same table as my relationship with you. I would’ve given my heart and my time to my sons with or without you. But we raised them together, and I think we did a pretty good job.”

  “Thanks for giving me some credit.”

  “No, you deserve a lot of credit for how well they turned out. And then there’s my relationship with you.”

  “Which is . . . ?”

  “In trouble.”

  “I love you, Eliza. I only love you. I don’t love Eve. I swear I don’t.”

  “I used to believe anything you told me and I have overlooked so much, wanting to keep things on an even keel. But since Carl and I found you and Eve together, why would I think you’re telling me the truth? How am I supposed to trust you? I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know, Adam. You need to know that when this is over, I’m going back to Corfu.”

  “What? Why? You can’t just go off when the mood strikes, Eliza!”

  “Oh, yes, I can.”

  “You’re my wife, you belong at my side, and you have responsibilities to me and to our business! Do you have any idea how much I’ve had to deal with since you’ve been gone?”

  “I’m sorry for any inconvenience, and I’m going back to Corfu because I have unfinished business there.”

  “What kind of unfinished business?”

  “My first cousin, Kiki, and her husband own a little restaurant with a friend, and I’ve been running the kitchen with him while his sous chef is on vacation.”

  “Let them hire someone else!”

  “I don’t want to. For once in my life I’m doing what I want to do!”

  “Okay, Eliza. You go back. Meanwhile, why don’t we try to put on a good face for the sake of the boys and the others?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? But then, you’re the better actor, Adam. You’ve been putting on a good face for years.”

  I thought about what she meant. She still thought I’d been in love with Eve all along. She wasn’t going to get away with making me eat shit forever.

  “Eliza. I love you. I have always loved you. I thought I loved Eve, but I don’t. Not one bit.”

  “How do you know?”

  Now I had her attention.

  “I just don’t feel it.”

  “Let’s see how the next few days unfold, Adam.”

  Cookie appeared in the hallway outside the living room. She stood there under a crystal chandelier that had to be as big as a small car with this big fake smile on her face. God, I hated her guts. She was such a meddling troublemaker.

  “Hello, Eliza. Y’all ready for some supper?”

  chapter 17

  eliza

  We sat down to dinner in the kitchen. Cookie had bought two rotisserie chickens from Harris Teeter and hacked them into chunks with no regard for aesthetics. There was dry salad from a bag in a bowl and a cut-up baguette in a basket. I got the butter from the refrigerator, cut some pats, and put them on a small plate. Then I took the olive oil and balsamic vinegar from the pantry and mixed up a quick dressing.

  “You use salad dressing? It makes you fat,” Cookie said.

  “No, it doesn’t. Processed carbohydrates and refined sugar make you fat,” I said. “Salad dressing in moderate amounts just makes your food taste better. And olive oil is good for you, especially your skin.” I was fed up with her too.

  Cookie snapped back, “I’m sure you know better.”

  “Maybe she does,” Adam said.

  I refused to meet his eyes or to give any indication that I appreciated his support.

  The atmosphere was awkward. Adam was feeling no love.

  “So, Eliza, how was your trip to Greece?” Cookie asked.

  “Incredible,” I said. “I’ll show you pictures of my long-lost family after dinner.”

  “Did you have nice weather?” Ted asked.

  “Beautiful,” I said. “It’s a lot like a Charleston winter except for the humidity.”

  “Did I tell y’all about the letter I found?” Ted said.

  When Ted went looking for Clarabeth’s will, he found an envelope stapled to the folder with his name on it.

  “What did it say?” Cookie asked.

  “Yes, what did it say?” I asked.

  “Here, y’all can read it yourselves,” he said and pulled it from his back pocket.

  Clarabeth had probably left very specific instructions in her will about how her funeral was to be conducted. Cookie and Adam got up and stood behind me to read it over my shoulder.

  My darling Ted,

  If you are reading this it means I’m already singing in that great big choir in heaven, at least I hope that’s where I go! (Please pray for that to happen to my soul!)

  Although we found each other later in life, you are my most favorite husband of all and your family became like my children and grandchildren. I want you to know that you brought me the greatest joy I have ever known and that I loved you with all my heart. Everything I’m leaving behind is yours to enjoy. I do not want you to fret. When you think of me I want you to smile and remember all the happiness we shared.

  As to my funeral, I don’t want one. What I’d prefer is to have my body delivered to McAlister’s, have it cremated, and tell them to put my ashes in the urn that’s on the fireplace mantel in the living room. Then I want you, Adam, Eliza, the boys, Cookie, Carl, Eve, and Daphne to take my ashes out to dinner in the private room upstairs at Cypress, my favorite restaurant. Hire a string quartet or a piano player, put my ashes in the middle of the table, order a fabulous dinner, expensive wine, arrange for gorgeous flowers, and say nice things about me. After dinner please take my ashes home in the urn and put them back on the mantel. The cash to pay for all of this is in the pocket of my baby blue cashmere robe in the guest bedroom closet. Now, go have fun!

  All my love,

  Clarabeth

  “Wasn’t that just like her?” I said.

  “She was a practical woman. Thoughtful too,” Ted said. “So, that’s the plan.”

  Clarabeth was also very dignified but not particularly into any kind of organized religion. I knew she believed in God because we talked about it once or twice. And I was very glad indeed that she didn’t want to do something crazy like hire the Burke High School Marching Band to lead her casket down Broad Street in a Cinderella coach. Some people make a spectacle of themselves even after they die. I mean, what’s the point? One last hurrah on the way out? Give your money to a worthy cause instead.

  Ted, Clarabeth’s worthy cause, was now a very rich widower, but he didn’t care about money so much. He never had been exposed to all the trappings of wealth until he met Clarabeth. But he would rather have had Clarabeth alive than all the money in the world. That much was clear to everyone.

  “So, did you look in the pocket of her baby blue bathrobe?” Adam asked.

  “Yep. And I found the biggest wad of hundred-dollar bills I’ve ever seen in my life. So, it looks like Clarabeth is taking us all out to dinner. Should I call Cypress for Saturday night? I’m picking up the urn on Saturday morning.”

  “Why not?” Cookie said. “I know a pianist I can call if you’d like. And I can call Charleston Flowers.”

  “I thought you had a date,” Adam said.

  “That’s Friday night, Mr. Stanley,” Cookie said.

  “Who do you have a date with?” Ted asked.

  He looked surprised and, to be honest, a little shaken.

  “Why? Are you
jealous?” Cookie asked.

  “Ever the provocateur!” I said.

  “Certainly not!” Ted said. “I just like to know what’s going on.”

  “Boy, is that the question of the day or what?” Adam said, laughing with an annoying little heh, heh, heh.

  I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t tell him how not funny he was.

  “No, I met a very nice man on one of those dating sites for seniors and we’re meeting at Rue de Jean for an early supper.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful, Cookie. If he seems creepy at all, I want you to get up and leave,” Ted said. “Tell him you’re going to the ladies’ room, but walk out the back door.”

  Ted wasn’t fooling me. I could see that he was a little jealous that Cookie’s attentions were diversified.

  “I have another escape,” I said. “Why don’t I call your cell at around seven thirty and pretend to be a sick friend who needs you right away? If he’s awesome, tell me to call someone else. If he’s not, just ask me where I am and tell him you have to go.”

  “Those are both great ideas,” she said. “To tell you the truth, I am a little nervous. After all, this man is a stranger. I’m sure he’s very nice, but who knows? Anyway, Rue de Jean is close enough to my house. I can walk home if I need to.

  The meal ended pretty quickly, as there was no compulsion to stay at the table and eat any more of the long-dead chicken than we had to. I helped Cookie clean up the kitchen while Adam wiped down the counters and Ted took out the trash.

  “Well, I’m about to fall on my face,” I said. “It’s been an extremely long day for me. Thanks for dinner, Cookie. Good night, Ted.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “I’ll follow you,” Adam said.

  I gave him the smallest smile humanly possible. I mean, I didn’t hate the man.

  I drove home with Adam right behind me, so we pulled into the garage at the exact same time. We closed the doors with synchronized thunks. I sat there for a moment, just to think about how I was going to handle the sleeping situation. Well, the boys were going to be arriving soon. Did I really want to let them know something was wrong between their father and me? No, I did not. I thought a minute more until I hatched a plan.