Bright Eyes

by Catherine Anderson

  That was a promise he could make. He also made a mental note to talk with her later about this independence issue. She clearly had some serious hang-ups that he needed to tiptoe around. “I swear that I’ll never treat you that way otherwise, only in what I believe may be life-threatening situations. And I’ll try not to be dictatorial if it ever happens again.”

  “It was as if you didn’t hear me. I thought you considered me to be your equal, and suddenly I didn’t even have a vote.”

  Zeke’s heart caught. “I never meant to make you feel that way. You’ll always have a vote, Natalie, and in most instances, it’ll carry more weight with me than my own. It’s just—damn. I’m new at this. Cut me a little slack, all right? A month ago, I was a bachelor with no one to worry about but myself. Now I love you and those kids so much it makes me crazy when I think something might happen to one of you.”

  “How do you think I felt?” She splayed a hand over her chest. “What if the gas lines had been tampered with, and the smell just wasn’t strong enough to notice yet? What if there actually had been an explosive device in there? You acted like the big, strong man who’d take care of everything, and all I could think about was your getting blown to pieces if you went back inside.”

  Hearing it put like that made Zeke feel like a heel. “You’re right,” he said, his voice rasping like sandpaper over a cheese grater. “I wouldn’t like feeling that way. I’m sorry I did it to you.”

  “Here’s the thing that bothers me. I never saw a hint of autocracy in you, and suddenly there it was, as if you’d only been humoring me until then. Can you see why I found that upsetting? I can’t be with someone who only pretends to respect me.”

  Zeke folded his arms to keep from reaching for her. “I’m not just pretending, honey. Where is that coming from?”

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, as if she were gathering her thoughts. After a moment, she said, “Maybe I’m overreacting. In my marriage, I was never Robert’s equal. He refused to talk with me about his business. If someone came by the house to meet with him, he sent me shopping or told me to go watch a program. He didn’t even want me in the room. The decisions were all his to make, and I just had to be happy with the results. For so many years, I was on a fast track, with him doing all the steering. He chose our home, and then he chose the furnishings. He even hired a fashion consultant to dress me. If he had business problems, he never shared them with me. It was as if I had no brain. When I filed for divorce, I swore I’d never live like that again.”

  “And tonight I acted exactly like Robert.”

  She dropped her chin to look at him. “Not exactly like him. In that situation, I think he might have gone home with the kids and let me handle it.”

  Zeke smiled. He couldn’t stop himself. “I’m sorry I acted like a jerk. Next time, I’ll handle it with more finesse, I promise.”

  “But you’ll still send me home.”

  He nodded.

  “Even if it’s a deal breaker for me?”

  Zeke didn’t want her to walk away again, but he couldn’t make promises he knew he might not keep. “Would you settle for a nose job?”

  She peered through the gloom at him. “Pardon?”

  “It’s a big sucker. I know it for a fact because it’s sitting smack dab in the middle of all my brothers’ faces, too. I could get an inch whacked off the end and never miss it.”

  “What’s your nose got to do with anything?”

  “It’s a flaw I can fix.”

  She stared up at him, looking pensive. “It isn’t a flaw. I love your nose.”

  Zeke narrowed an eye at her. “Honey, if you love this schnozzle, there’s only one explanation. You’re crazy in love with me. That being the case, can you really walk away over something that may not even happen again?”

  Her mouth twitched. “Foul play. You expect me to simply accept that you’re occasionally going to act like an autocratic jerk?”

  “Yep, that pretty much covers it, occasionally being the key word. The rest of the time, I’ll be Mr. Easy.”

  She ran a speculative gaze over him. “How easy, exactly?”

  “Crook your little finger and see.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following morning Natalie received a call from Grace Patterson to inform her that the coroner’s office had released Robert’s remains for burial. The funeral would be at eleven a.m. on Thursday at Ehringer’s Funeral Home. Viewings had been scheduled for Wednesday night between six and nine.

  Natalie went up to Chad’s room immediately to tell him the news. Her son was propped up against a mound of pillows, deeply engrossed in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. She sat on the edge of the bed, grateful yet again to Valerie for buying Chad the book. It had provided him with a much-needed escape, not only from the pain of his bruised ribs, but also from the sadness of his father’s death.

  “Hi,” Natalie said, reaching to smooth his rumpled hair. “It’s good to see that you ate a good breakfast.”

  Chad kept a finger in the book to save his place as he closed the cover. He glanced at his empty plate, still on the nightstand. “Grammy made blueberry pancakes.”

  Natalie nodded. “Your favorite, I know. She’s spoiling you. What’ll I do with you when she goes home?”

  Chad smiled and shrugged. “No blueberry pancakes. Okay, Mom?”

  Natalie laughed and turned her gaze to the open window. Just outside, a pair of robins sat on the limb of the old oak tree, warbling happily in the morning sunshine. She found herself wishing she were as carefree as those birds, that Robert were still alive, and that everything was right in Chad’s world.

  “Your grandma Grace just called,” she finally said. “The funeral will be at eleven on Thursday. There will be viewings in the mortuary chapel tomorrow night.”

  Chad pushed the book off his lap, forgetting to keep his place. He sank against the pillows and closed his eyes. “What’s a viewing?”

  Natalie swallowed hard. “That’s where friends and members of the family can go in and say last good-byes in private.” She swallowed again, trying to dislodge the suffocating lump at the base of her throat. “The casket is open, and there are pretty flowers all around. It’s usually in a small room that’s very quiet, and one or two people go in together. With the door closed, you can feel as sad as you want, and no one will see.”

  “Mom?”

  Natalie curled her hand over his. “What, sweetie?”

  “I’m kind of scared. I’ve never seen a dead person. Is it going to be awful?”

  “Not awful. Your dad will look just like always, but it’ll be like looking at a wax carving because his spirit has left his body.”

  “Do you think his spirit is in heaven?”

  Natalie prayed so. Since Robert’s death, she had come to understand him in ways she’d never been able to when he was alive. “I’m sure of it,” she replied.

  “But he did bad things,” Chad whispered. “What if God wouldn’t let him in?”

  “If you were the one making the decision, Chad—if you held the keys to the gates and your dad was standing outside, would you turn him away?”

  “No, but he was my dad, and I loved him.”

  “Do you think God loved him any less? More, I would think, because He could see into your father’s heart.”

  Chad lifted his eyelashes. “Will you go with me? I don’t think I can do it alone.”

  “Absolutely. I already asked Grammy if she’ll watch Rosie. We’re all set.”

  Zeke stopped at the edge of the Westfield yard to give Chester a Ritz cracker, a token of friendship to promote future goodwill. The gander quacked happily, ate what he could of the cracker with the first chomp, and then pecked the grass for crumbs. Zeke circled the bird and angled his steps toward the rear of the house. He was surprised to find Natalie sitting on the back steps.

  She jumped with a start when he said her name. “Zeke.” She smiled and patted the step beside her. “Think
of the devil, and he shall appear.”

  “ ’Morning, Bright Eyes.”

  The dimple flashed in her cheek. “Why do you call me that?”

  “Because you have fabulous eyes. Whenever I see them, I feel like the sun just came out.”

  As Zeke moved toward her, he wondered if he would ever tire of looking at her. This morning she wore faded old jeans and a gray Oregon Ducks T-shirt that had seen better days, but she still managed to look beautiful. Her hair fell loose to her shoulders in a cloud of jet curls. Her mouth was still slightly swollen from the heated kisses they’d shared just before dawn.

  As he sat beside her, she said, “The funeral will be Thursday. It hasn’t really been that long since Robert died, but it feels to me as if a month has passed.”

  Zeke rested his arms on his knees and joined her in gazing toward the barn. “A lot has happened since Friday night. It seems like a month to me, too.” He glanced over at her. “How’s Chad handling it?”

  “He’s sad. We talked once, but otherwise he hasn’t said a whole lot.” She shrugged. “I’m worried that it will all of a sudden hit him, and he’ll fall apart. He loved Robert. I don’t question that. But it’s also about chances lost. You know? He wanted so badly to make his father proud of him someday, and now he’ll never be able to.”

  Zeke felt as if a cold fist were squeezing his chest. Having been a boy himself once, he could understand how Chad must be feeling. It was important to a young man to earn his father’s respect.

  “How are you handling it?” he asked.

  She went back to staring at the barn. “I feel sort of empty,” she confessed. “I wish that he weren’t dead, that life had given him and Chad a few more chances. He was so young. It’s difficult for me to wrap my mind around the fact that he’s really gone.”

  “The funeral will help. It’ll give all of you a sense of closure. Are your folks going?”

  “Pop and Valerie will be there. Mom is staying home with Rosie. I don’t think she’s old enough to go.” She rubbed her slender hands together. “In fact, it’s difficult for me to even let Chad go. A part of me would like to spare him the awful finality of it.”

  “He needs the finality, Natalie. He’ll be okay.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Trust me. The kid’s got grit.” Zeke listened to the birds sing, which reminded him of why he’d come. “Are you ready for some good news?”

  “Please,” she said with a laugh.

  “I’ve scheduled a grand reopening for Friday night.” Zeke hurried to add, “If you’re not feeling up to performing yet, no worries. The karaoke equipment is being delivered today. Frank can play a few tunes in between. And if things get dull, I’ll play my fiddle.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I definitely have to be there to hear you play.”

  Zeke grinned. “I don’t just play the fiddle, darlin’, I flat make it sing. I’m holding you to your promise of a good old-fashioned hoedown.”

  “I’ll love it. Maybe we can do it at the club.”

  Zeke grew serious again. “I placed some ads in the newspaper. They’ll start tomorrow night and go through Sunday. My sister-in-law, Molly, Jake’s wife—she’s the little redhead you met in the ER waiting room—is really good at stuff like that, so I got her to help me lay them out. Nothing fancy, but they’ll get the word out.”

  Her eyes went sparkly with tears. “Thank you, Zeke. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything else that I haven’t even thought about reopening the club. Madness. If I don’t, I’ll go under.”

  “You won’t go under. Friday night you’ll have a packed house, guaranteed. You’re not just hosting a karaoke bash; you’re offering cash prizes for the best three performances of the night, decided by audience vote.”

  “Cash prizes?”

  “I floated you a loan, remember? I tacked that on. You can pay me back when the club starts turning a profit again.”

  She leaned sideways and kissed the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.”

  “Is that the best you can do?” He chased her mouth with his and kissed her deeply. When he finally lifted his head, he whispered, “Now, that’s more like it.”

  The following evening Natalie accompanied Chad to the funeral home. The instant they entered the building, the scent of flowers assailed her nostrils, and her skin felt as if it had been painted with sugar water. She clung to Chad’s hand, not entirely sure if she did so to comfort him or herself. The assistant director, a pretty young blonde in a dark blue suit like flight attendants wear, met them in the foyer. Natalie kept glancing at her lapel, expecting to see gold wings.

  “Right this way,” she said kindly. As she led them down a hall, she added, “From six to seven is reserved for family members only. The deceased’s mother already left, so you shouldn’t be disturbed.” At the door, she stopped and graced them with a gentle smile. “There’s a buzzer just inside. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ring for me.”

  “Thank you.” Natalie watched the woman walk away, then turned to look at Chad. “You ready, big guy?”

  Chad nodded, but his brown eyes were huge. Natalie grasped his shoulder as she opened the door. They entered side by side, Natalie steeling herself to be strong, Chad trembling. It was a shock to see Robert lying in a coffin. Why, Natalie wasn’t sure. Of course he was in a coffin. Chad stopped in his tracks. Natalie could see a fine film of sweat on his forehead.

  “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  Chad nodded and moved forward again. When they reached the casket, Natalie slipped her arm around her son and stared stupidly at Robert’s reposed features. His blond hair gleamed like burnished gold against the white satin. The mortician had done a beautiful job of making him look natural. Natalie kept thinking he might open his eyes and smile, only he didn’t.

  Chad said nothing. He just stood there, staring at his father as if he’d been turned into a pillar of salt. Natalie reached out and laid her fingers over Robert’s folded hands. He felt like a lump of frozen chicken that had been set on the drain to thaw. She wanted to jerk her arm back, but for Chad’s sake, she didn’t. Robert. He was really and truly dead. His eyes would never open again. His chest would never rise and fall as he drew in breath. He was gone, his life snuffed out like a candle flame.

  “Dad!” Chad cried. And then he started to sob. “Oh, Dad.”

  Natalie curled her arm around the boy’s waist to keep him from collapsing. The sound of his sobs made her want to weep, and pretty soon, she did, for Robert, who’d never learned to love, and for her son, who was being forced to grow up way too fast.

  When Chad had cried himself out, he and Natalie sat on the wing-back chairs near the casket for a while. Then, by unspoken agreement, they got up to leave. Chad stopped at Robert’s side first. Then he whirled away and almost ran from the room. Natalie hurried after him.

  When she stepped out into the hall, she saw Bonnie Decker sitting on one of the straight-backed chairs along the opposite wall. Her eyes swollen from weeping, Bonnie inclined her head at Natalie and then averted her face. Natalie wanted to say something, only she couldn’t think what. And there was Chad to worry about. He’d already raced up the hallway and disappeared through one of the doorways.

  Natalie’s maternal nature won out. She hurried after her son. But as she left the building, her thoughts were with that lonely young woman inside who’d come to say her last good-byes to a man who hadn’t understood or appreciated her devotion to him.

  Zeke climbed the ladder to the hayloft of the Westfield barn, guided there by the muffled sounds of Chad’s heartbroken sobs. Natalie had phoned Zeke a few minutes before, upset because her son had disappeared again. She’d asked Zeke if he would mind coming over to help her find him. Zeke had heard the boy crying the moment he entered the building. He’d stepped back out to signal Natalie so she wouldn’t be worried. Now he was faced with the self-appointed task of talking Chad through this and getting him calmed down.

  The loft was darker than hell, th
e only light that of the moon, which leaked in through the open hay doors. Zeke had to follow his ears to locate Chad. As he moved in the boy’s direction, his feet touched on bales one moment and loose hay the next, making him lurch. The smell of alfalfa dust burned his nose. Personally, Zeke had never understood the appeal of haylofts. Hay was itchy, scratchy, nasty stuff that only made him want to sneeze.

  Almost invisible in the deep shadows, Chad was huddled in a front corner near the hay doors. Zeke lowered himself to sit beside him. Dust billowed up again, making his eyes water. “Hey, buddy. Pretty rough night, huh?”

  Chad snorted and almost choked on a stifled sob. “I w-went to see m-my d-dad,” he squeaked.

  Zeke looped his arms around his knees. He tried to imagine how he might feel if he lost his own father. Not a pleasant thought. It hardly seemed fair that a kid who hadn’t quite turned twelve should have to live through that kind of pain. Unfortunately, it had been Zeke’s observation over the years that life was seldom fair.

  “I’m sorry you’ve lost him,” Zeke whispered. “I know how you must have loved him. I sure do love my dad a lot. When he dies, I’m going to cry like a baby, no two ways around it.”

  The admission seemed to ease Chad’s embarrassment, and he started to sob again without restraint. Zeke decided this was no time for talking. Instead he curled an arm around the boy’s back. Chad didn’t resist. He just leaned against Zeke’s chest and cried his heart out.

  Zeke settled back against the wall of the barn, straightened the leg closest to Chad, and prepared to wait it out. He lost track of time. When Chad’s sobs began to abate, Zeke didn’t know if he’d been sitting there for minutes or hours, and it didn’t really matter. The most important thing on his agenda right then was to be exactly where he was.

  When Chad was drained of tears, he whispered hollowly, “If I hit a home run, my dad won’t be there to see.”

  Zeke rested his cheek against the boy’s hair, which had the same texture as Natalie’s. “No, he won’t be there in the flesh. But I believe he’ll be there in spirit, watching over you.”