Choices (A Woman's Life)

by Marie Ferrarella

  Shanna leaned forward, her head propped on her closed fist, her dinner plate carelessly pushed to one side. “Tell me.”

  There was too much to tell and too little time. Besides, it was all running together in her mind, like a chalk portrait left on the sidewalk in the rain. “I’m a boring old woman, Shanna.”

  A feeling of urgency suddenly danced through Shanna. She didn’t believe in premonitions, but just this once, she decided to act on it. “Not to me.”

  Yes, Eloise realized, and that was one of the reasons Shanna had always meant so much to her. Shanna loved her just for herself.

  “All right.” Eloise sat back, getting comfortable in the padded armchair. “You asked for this.”

  Eloise’s voice drifted through the quiet restaurant as all around them, patrons began arriving for lunch. Outside, the snow continued to fall on a city that never rested.

  Shanna listened in rapt attention, pleased with the image she conjured up, envisioning her grandmother as a young girl. Eloise talked on for almost an hour before Mildred finally returned. When it was time to go, Shanna was sorry that the afternoon was over. It had been one of the most peaceful afternoons she could remember spending in a long, long time.

  “I love you, Grandmother.” She kissed the worn, rouged cheek just before she stepped back to hold the door open for Mildred.

  Eloise nodded. It was her due. Yet she felt in her heart that no one else loved her. “Yes, I know.”

  “I’ll see you soon,” Shanna called after her. The chauffeur had come to the restaurant entrance to help Mildred usher Eloise quickly into the waiting limousine.

  “Perhaps,” Eloise murmured, knowing her granddaughter could no longer hear her. “Perhaps.”

  Her words were eaten up by the wind.

  Chapter 8

  The shrill, persistent noise wouldn’t go away. It peeled off the layers of haze around Shanna one by one until she finally opened her eyes. Stiff, disoriented, she shifted her shoulders and realized that she was still sitting on the living room love seat. Exhausted from a full day, she had sat down here at ten to wait for Jordan to return home.

  The book that had only marginally held her attention was lying facedown, next to her feet. In the background the television set she had turned on for company in the overly quiet huge house had on a yellowed-looking black-and-white movie. The crackle of the film almost drowned out the actors.

  Focusing, she looked at her watch: 2:00 a.m. The noise that had woken her was still demanding attention.

  The telephone. The telephone was ringing. She caught her breath as the sound finally registered.

  She checked her watch again. Oh God, something’s happened to Jordan.

  She accidentally kicked her book aside as she hurried to the telephone. She had no idea how long it had been ringing. What if the person hung up before she answered? Shanna snatched the receiver from the cradle and held it in both hands as she pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Calhoun?”

  Shanna vaguely recognized the voice, but couldn’t connect it with a face. Her heart was pounding in anticipation. There was something about the dark that always intensified unformed fears. “Yes?”

  “It’s Mildred Harlow, Mrs. Calhoun.” The voice was authoritative and professional. But there was an underlying pain within it that the speaker didn’t bother to mask. “Your grandmother’s nurse.” Mildred added when there was no response.

  Shanna was instantly wide-awake. She clutched the receiver even more tightly in her hands, as if it were a lifeline connecting her not to Mildred, but to Eloise. Fears began to take a definite shape.

  “Why are you calling? Has she taken a turn for the worse?”

  There was a pause, as if the tiny increment of time could somehow make saying the words easier. But it couldn’t. “She’s passed away, ma’am.”

  No!

  Shanna wanted to scream the word, to make Mildred admit that she was playing some horrible prank. Her grandmother couldn’t be dead. She was too real to die.

  “But I just saw her. Monday. Two days ago,” Shanna insisted, waiting for Mildred to confess that she was lying.

  Mildred’s voice was soft, comforting. She’d been in this very same position so many times before. It never became easier. “Yes, I know. She knew she was dying and she wanted to see you one more time.”

  “But how . . . ?” Words evaporated from Shanna’s brain like small beads of moisture in the desert. Dead. Her grandmother was dead. Shakily Shanna sat down on the floor, the large living room shrinking down to just herself and the telephone she held in her hand.

  Now that Eloise was gone, there was no reason for secrecy any longer. “It was her heart, ma’am. It just gave out on her. The doctor told her that she didn’t have long. There was no possibility of a transplant. Her body wouldn’t have supported one.”

  Cold traveled up from her toes until it encompassed all of her. Shanna felt frozen. When? How? There’d never been any mention that she was going to die soon. That she was dying. “I had no idea.”

  “She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want anyone to know. She said she couldn’t have abided being the target of pity.”

  Shanna nodded numbly, though the other woman couldn’t see her. There was nothing her grandmother tolerated less than pity, unless it was weakness and deceit.

  Now there was nothing to tolerate.

  Dead. Grandmother’s dead. Shanna pressed her hand to her mouth to keep a sob from escaping. Eloise wouldn’t have approved of her carrying on. She tried to focus on what Mildred was saying to her.

  “—Mr. Stewart’s the executor of her will,” Mildred continued, referring to Eloise’s lawyer. “He’s to handle all the funeral arrangements.” For a moment there was silence as Mildred looked for words. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, Mrs. Calhoun, but Mrs. Fitzhugh wanted you to be the first one to know if anything happened.”

  Because she loved me, Shanna thought and felt sobs rising again. She struggled for control. “I’ll be there in the morning, Mildred.” From somewhere far within, years of training took over. “And thank you for calling.”

  “I wish I could say it was my pleasure,” Mildred answered, and there was genuine sorrow in her voice. “She was a fine lady. Good-bye.”

  Shanna murmured good-bye, or thought she did. Reaching up, she dropped the receiver into the cradle. She sat on the floor a long time, too numb to move, too lost to think coherently. Somehow, despite the woman’s frail state, despite the necessity of the wheelchair, Shanna had always believed that her grandmother would go on forever. Her spirit had always been so strong, so indomitable. So unconquerable.

  And now something had conquered her. Death.

  Shanna felt abandoned.

  “You should have told me,” she whispered as the tears, hot and desolate, began to fall, trickling down her cheeks. The tiny drops were absorbed by the folds of her flannel robe. “You should have let me know.”

  The sound of the key in the lock registered vaguely in the back of her mind. Shanna, still sitting on the floor, looked up just as Jordan entered the living room. With his overcoat draped over his arm, he crossed the threshold, making a conscious effort to be as quiet as possible.

  He stopped when he saw Shanna on the floor.

  Damn! He had thought that she’d be fast asleep by now. Jordan drew closer, looking at her face. Terrific, she was crying.

  Impotent anger rose within him. Had some “well-meaning person” seen him going to Liz’s apartment earlier tonight and called Shanna because she “had a right to know,” or whatever it was that gossips used to justify their actions? Shit, he had thought he’d been so careful. It didn’t matter that they had recently moved to this exclusive two-acre estate and that the phones had been

  changed. Gossips always found you. Jordan braced himself for damage control.

  Jordan threw his coat on the sofa as he crossed to his wife. He braced himself for the accusations he knew woul
d come. Standing over her, he put out his hand to her. “Look, Shanna, I know I’m late, but the strategy meeting ran over and then we—“

  Shanna wrapped her fingers around his, but stayed where she was for a moment, gathering strength. Her legs felt as if they couldn’t fully support her if she rose. “She’s gone, Jordan.”

  She? Who the hell was Shanna talking about? He hadn’t the vaguest idea.

  When Shanna suddenly rose, flinging herself into his arms and sobbing, he instinctively stroked her hair. One arm around her shoulders, he rocked her against him. At all costs, Shanna had to be appeased, though tonight and the other nights that had come before were really her fault. If she was just better in bed, maybe he wouldn’t be so attracted to other women.

  And then again, he mused, knowing himself too well, maybe he would be anyway.

  “Who are you talking about, honey?” he coaxed gently. “Who’s gone?”

  Shanna wanted to lose herself in the folds of his gray jacket, like a little girl hiding in the closet until everything was all better. But she wasn’t a little girl. She hadn’t been for a long time, and life had to be faced. “Grandmother.”

  Jordan could have shouted with relief. Shanna didn’t know anything about his affair. God, that was a load off his mind.

  And then Shanna’s words penetrated. So the old woman finally bought the farm. He suppressed a smile. The old bitch had been crazy about Shanna. That meant she probably had left her a hefty chunk of money in the will. He felt nothing but elation at the news. Eloise Fitzhugh had never liked him and now she was dead. Good. Things were really going his way.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” he murmured into her hair as he stroked it. “I really liked her.”

  Shanna raised her head to look at him. Her eyes were bright with tears. To know that he really cared about her grandmother was extremely important to her. “Did you? I always got the impression that you didn’t.”

  He read the look in her eyes easily. “It was she who didn’t like me,” he pointed out innocently. “You couldn’t very well blame me for being a little on the defensive side.”

  “No.” She sighed. Stepping back, she dragged her hand through her hair. Her voice was still shaky. “I guess not.” She dropped onto the sofa.

  Jordan glanced toward the bedroom. All he really wanted to do was collapse in bed and get some sleep. Liz had been a wildcat tonight. He had had to grab her hands twice to stop her from leaving telltale marks on him. He was completely drained and had used his last ounce of energy just getting back here.

  But there were motions to go through, so he sat down beside Shanna. Draping one arm around her shoulders, he pulled Shanna against him.

  Shanna leaned her head on his chest. There was safety here, she thought, and warmth. She silently thanked God for Jordan. “I’m going up tomorrow to help with the funeral arrangements. Will you come with me?”

  “I can’t.” He looked at her apologetically as he lightly stroked her arm. “But let me know when the funeral is and I’ll have Liz clear my schedule.”

  Shanna slipped her hand into his. “1 can’t believe that she’s gone.”

  Jordan kept his smile to himself as he held her. “Neither can I, honey. Neither can I.”

  The funeral was large and ostentatious and everything Eloise had come to hate. It took place two days later. Shanna moved through both the wake and the services in a haze of alternating disbelief and bereavement. It had taken every ounce of strength she had to look down into the casket and see her grandmother lying there. When she finally went up to view the body, she had gone alone. Jordan had managed to melt into the crowd and she couldn’t find him.

  Looking down at the face she loved so much, Shanna suddenly felt dizzy. Frantically she clutched at the side of the casket to keep from falling.

  From out of nowhere, she felt a hand come up behind her to support her elbow.

  “Don’t make a fool of yourself by fainting,” Rheena hissed between lips that hardly moved.

  Steeling herself, Rheena looked down into the casket as well. As soon as she had heard of her mother’s death, she had had Alexandra flown in, insisting that the funeral-parlor director use her to do her mother’s makeup instead of the regular girl.

  Alexandra hadn’t been happy about the task, but knew better than to decline.

  Rheena studied her mother for a moment before ushering Shanna away. “I think she looks better now than she did when she was alive.”

  Taking offense for Eloise, Shanna pulled away. “I didn’t care what she looked like. I just wanted her to be here.”

  Fighting the continuing waves of nausea that kept assaulting her, Shanna searched for Jordan. How could Rheena have said something so flippantly callous? Shanna thought angrily. Her mother had just died. Didn’t she have any feelings at all?

  Shanna knew the answer to that. Her mother and grandmother had never been on good terms. There was no reason to believe that the funeral had changed her mother’s attitude toward Eloise.

  What would she feel when it came to be her mother’s time? Shanna wondered as she picked her way through the crowded parlor. Would there be this blase performance before an audience, with no feelings behind it? Would she be this indifferent? God, she hoped not.

  During the services, her father was a great comfort to her. He was sincerely saddened by Eloise’s death. But it was to Jordan that Shanna turned when they stood in the church. He provided the support she needed. Except for short periods of time, he remained at her side throughout most of the morning. Liz had reworked his heavy schedule, he told Shanna, so that he would have this time free to pay Eloise the respect she deserved.

  He saw Shanna’s grateful smile when he told her and was satisfied that he had made a good move. Besides, there were people here it wouldn’t hurt him to meet. Being the bereaved grandson-in-law gave him an instant excuse to initiate conversations with several financiers and wealthy industrialists he might not otherwise have gotten a chance to speak to. Ever charming and gracious, Jordan worked the room with his future foremost in his mind.

  After the service at the gravesite, everyone returned to the senator’s house in Georgetown for a lavish reception. Rheena would have it no other way. Shanna felt more out of place than usual and found the milling crowds too stifling. She responded gratefully to the condolences that came her way. But she slipped away the first opportunity she had. She needed some time alone with her grief.

  Her old room seemed to be the best place for her to go. There were people everywhere as she made her way up the stairs. She couldn’t help wondering if they had all known her grandmother, or were here merely to see and be seen. Another circus sideshow.

  As Shanna opened the door to her room she heard a soft sound. Sobbing. She cocked her head, trying to determine where it was coming from. She could have sworn it was coming from her mother’s room. Crossing to it, she listened at the door and heard it more clearly.

  Hesitating, she eased the door opened slowly. Her mother was going to be furious when she heard that someone had gotten into her room. Maybe she could get whoever it was out before her mother found out. Shanna was completely unprepared for what she saw.

  “Mother?”

  Rheena looked up from where she was sitting on the bed, a startled expression on her face. She made a furtive move to wipe away her tears, then stopped. What purpose did that serve? She had been caught. “She got in the last blow, you know.”

  Her mother’s voice was raspy, as if she’d been crying for a while. Shanna sat down beside her and took her mother’s hand in hers. She couldn’t remember ever holding her mother’s hand before. There had always been a nurse or a nanny to take her hand, never her mother. Rheena’s fingers felt icy now.

  “You mean Grandmother?”

  Rheena nodded. She stared straight ahead, as if unable to acknowledge Shanna’s touch. Rheena wadded her handkerchief in her other hand.

  “I didn’t think it would hurt when she died. I thought that I’d be re
lieved that I was rid of her. She was always so damn critical of me and I could never do anything right to please her.” Rheena let go of a ragged breath. “And now that she’s gone, I thought I’d be free of that feeling, free of needing to somehow try to garner approval.” Another tear slid down.

  Shanna stared at it in fascination. Feelings. Her mother had feelings.

  “But all I feel is this overwhelming sorrow that I never got the chance to hear her say she was proud of me.” Rheena shrugged helplessly. “And now she never will. So she won.”

  Shanna wanted to hug her mother, to hold her, but she knew that Rheena would never allow that. “Nobody wins at something like that.” Shanna rose, her own heart aching. “Can I get you anything, Mother?”

  Rheena shook her head, still not looking at her. “No, it’s too late for that.”

  Shanna slipped out and closed the door behind her. “It’s never too late to find out that you care for somebody, Mother,” she whispered. “Don’t you know that?”

  Chapter 9

  Shanna sighed and slowly looked around the room where she had spent so many hours spinning soothing fantasies for herself as a child. Outside, the weather had turned cold. More snow on the way, probably. She felt a little of the cold seep in through the corners of the multi-paned window. Or maybe she just felt cold because of the funeral.

  She leaned against the wall framing the window-seat alcove, staring out of the window into the blackness beyond. She had sat here so many times before, always feeling protected. Then the dark world outside had been held at bay by the window. The image of her room had been mirrored on the windowpanes, diminishing the unknown. It had made her feel protected as a child. But no more.

  Now she felt that the real world was beyond the glass, not contained before it. The dark, unknown, cold real world, where a single instant of time could bring dramatic changes into one’s life.

  Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, Shanna rose from the window seat. She felt restless here. It would be impossible to sleep tonight.