I didn’t know Diane well, either, but I’d always liked the girl. Greg and Diane dated only casually in high school, but there was nothing casual about the look I’d seen in her eyes the night before. She looked like a woman in love, or at least in infatuation. I took the lust part for granted. I didn’t want to dwell on it in relation to my own children, but I was well aware of the power of hormones in twenty-something year olds.
Knowing sleep was impossible, I climbed out of bed knelt by the window, resting my arms on the sill. Fog shrouded the house. Tendrils of gray drifted through the air, softening the world’s sharp angles like angel’s hair around a Christmas tree, creating little halos around the still-burning front porch lights along the street, muting colors until they all blended together without distinction.
Lonely fog. The winter-bare limbs of the oak outside my window dripped with it. Fog meant a weather change. If it got colder and stayed wet, we’d probably get ice. Ice is the bane of the Atlanta winter, especially in February or March. It rarely snows in Atlanta, but we are hit with an ice storm every few years. If it got warmer, the pear trees and dogwoods would bud out and the buds would be burned off by the frost that was inevitable before warm weather set in for real. The seasons were like that. Life was like that, killing off methodically all that was beautiful.
God, I was depressed. The mood of the night before had stayed with me and showed no sign of relinquishing its hold. The weekend yawned before me, endless space without form. I needed to get out of the house. There was nothing to do here, nothing to clean, no books I wanted to curl up with, no one to talk to. Even if I only wandered around the mall, it would be better than dragging around the house feeling sorry for myself.
By the time I’d showered and dressed, I had my day planned. First I would go by the office. I could work on the accounts payable. Then if Klee showed up in the office on Monday, I could bow out of there with a clear conscience. I could probably stretch the payables to a good four hours if I took it slow. Then I’d call Mother and ask when she was going over to see dad. Maybe we could have lunch and then go together. Let Dr. Proctor put three visits in a row in his pipe. After that, I’d play it by ear. I refused to think as far ahead as Sunday.
With no traffic, I was at the office in fifteen minutes. The neighborhood was quiet, the miserable weather keeping everyone inside. There were no cars in front of our building, which was a good sign. Maybe Jeff and Sam had finally gone home. The first thing I did after letting myself in was to head down the hallway and into the kitchen. Mercifully, the door was closed and locked, Jeff’s Blazer nowhere to be seen.
I made a mental note to order the automatic door closer as I headed back to my cubbyhole, relieved that I was the only one here. As I entered my office, I stopped cold and stared. In the center of my pristine desk was a stuffed bear, a large pink chenille bear wearing a purple lace vest. Tucked into his/her lap was a vase spilling over with violets and pink chrysanthemums, and propped up against the vase was a note.
My fury mounted as I crossed the room. I recognized the bold hand from three feet away. I had notarized the damn thing not forty-eight hours before. The gall of the man floored me. What would it take to turn him off?
It took all my control not to sweep bear, flowers, vase and all to the floor. The only thing that stopped me was the thought of dealing with the aftermath. It was one of the lousiest things about being an adult: when you made a mess, you have to clean it up.
I snatched up the note and read it. “I’m really sorry, Lou. I had no idea they didn’t know. What I did was unforgivable, but I hope you will anyway. With sincerest apologies, Gideon.”
Right, I thought, wadding the note into a ball and tossing it in the trash. Like that made everything okay. I suddenly realized then that I’d been so apprehensive the night before about what would come of our talk with the kids that I had forgotten to ask Darren how Jeff and Sam had taken the news. I would undoubtedly find out on Monday.
I grabbed up the vase full of spring flowers and carried it into the kitchen, leaving it on the counter. I would throw it away later. Then I stomped back to my office and dumped the silly, offending bear into the trash can beside my desk, determined to put the incident behind me and get to work.
As my computer booted up, I grabbed the unopened invoices out of my inbox and slit the envelopes. There were quite a few of them. They would have to be coded and entered into the accounting system before checks could be cut. Good.
I kept catching glimpses of pink out of the corner of my eye. The bear was so large that it only fit in the can up to its neck. Head and oversized pink ears stuck up out of the top like a Georgia Power worker sticking out of a manhole. It was distracting. I stuffed the head down, but it was back up within seconds. Finally, I kicked my trash can under my desk where I couldn’t see it.
I worked contentedly for almost an hour before I pulled it out for another look. It was a cute bear, as much as I hated to admit it, and unlike any I’d ever seen. It had long eyelashes over bright button eyes and silly, lopsided— okay, apologetic—grin on its face. I couldn’t imagine where he found such an appropriate present. I shoved it back in the trash and went back to my bills.
After another hour I could stand it no longer. It wasn’t the bear’s fault that its purchaser was such a sleaze, and I had a granddaughter who would melt if she saw it. She was currently going through a pink stage. Her bedroom was done in pinks, as was her bathroom, both at her request. Her ballet shoes and leotards and tights were pink. Nearly all her clothes were pink. A lot of girls her age were pink addicts. I blamed Barbie for that. Still, she would love this bear. No one needed to know where it came from.
I pulled it out of the trash can and sat it up on my desk where I could see it while I worked. It was amazing how much it’s silly, smiling face cheered up my office. That spoke volumes about my state of mind.
Less than half an hour later, my work was done. I called Mother and got her answering machine. Saturday. She was either out shopping with one of her buddies or already at Bradford Manor. It was only eleven o’clock. We might still be able to do lunch. I left a message asking her to call me at Jana’s and headed off to deliver a pink bear to my granddaughter.
The sun poked through the clouds as I left the office. By the time I reached Jana’s house—only a few miles from mine—the sky was almost clear, the temperature climbing. Poor flowers.
Both Jana and Bob’s cars were in the drive. Greg’s wasn’t. I didn’t know whether I should be happy or sad about that, so I chose relief.
Jana’s house was an older home like the one she grew up in, red brick with gingerbread trim, or what I had always thought of as gingerbread trim until my architect husband explained that it was Victorian with Tudor leanings. Who would have guessed? The yard was manicured to the point of sterility, which didn’t seem to go with the house. I much preferred my own more casual layout, with flowerbeds at random intervals around the property and grassy strips meandering invitingly through them and around the house. Jana’s flowerbeds were rectangular and her trees neatly circled with mounded pine straw. Tidy. It gave me the horrors.
I climbed out of my car and headed to the door, not at sure what kind of reception I’d receive. I should have realized the bear would ensure my welcome.
“Grandma!” Bobbie cried, swinging open the door while at the same time her arms reached out for the bear.
“Hi, sweetie,” I said, putting my arm around her for a hug.
She looked up at me with huge brown eyes. At seven, she was a charmer. I had been around enough girls to know that in another year, she would be hell on wheels. Maybe that stage wouldn’t last until adulthood as it had with Jana.
“Is it really for me?”
I brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “It really is. Do you like it?”
“Her,” Bobbie corrected. She held the bear away from her, considering. “Her smile is crooked. Is it supposed to be crooked?”
Jana walked up. “Mom? Is somet
hing wrong?”
It was a lot better than her slamming the door in my face. “Nothing that a hug wouldn’t cure,” I said, stepping forward and initiating the hug.
Jana clung to me a little tighter and longer than usual.
“How about you?” I asked. “Everything okay?”
She waved a hand in the air, glancing down at Bobbie. “You know. Fine.”
She turned back down the hallway. I took that as an invitation and followed her down the hall and into the kitchen. Inside, Jana’s house was as different from mine as night to morning. Sleek modern furniture was placed in stylish groupings throughout the large rooms. Abstract watercolors in bold primary colors graced the walls. The kitchen had a pristine Architectural Digest look about it that seemed cold to me. Or maybe it was more the contrast to my usual clean clutter.
My son-in-law, Bob, was at the table munching on a sandwich. He got to his feet when I walked in. “Lou,” he said, opening his arms.
I walked into them comfortably. Bob was another big hulking man. I seemed to be surrounded by them. He had always been slightly overweight, but it seemed right on him. A landscape architect by trade, he was too nice a guy to ever be terribly successful. His face, which mirrored his every emotion, was florid and gentle. I blessed the day Jana met and fell in love with him. “Hi, Bob,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“I was sorry to hear the news. We’re in your corner,” he whispered in my ear before releasing me.
I smiled at him. That didn’t surprise me. I was sure he was in Darren’s corner, too. He was the kind of man who would be in everyone’s corner if he could find a way to support them all.
“Look what grandma brought me, daddy,” Bobbie said, holding up the bear for him to see.
Bob gave the bear an admiring glance. “He’s a beaut, isn’t he?”
“She,” Bobbie told him with disdain. “Her name’s Alice.”
“Hmmmm….” Bob regarded the bear seriously, and then nodded. “She looks like an Alice.”
Satisfied, Bobbie headed out of the kitchen.
“Sit down, Lou,” Bob said. “We got any more coffee, hon?” he asked Jana, who was standing at the sink.
“I’ll make some fresh,” she said, not looking at either of us.
“Don’t, Jana,” I said quickly. “I won’t be here that long. I’m trying to hook up with mom to go see your granddad.”
“How is he?” Bob asked, settling at the table beside me.
“About the same.”
“I’d go see him, but the last couple of times I did, it seemed to confuse him. I met his doctor, though, and talked to him. He’s a real nice guy. He explained that pop’s upset because he thinks he should remember me, but he can’t. He said to come if I wanted to, but not to try to get pop to remember. Made it real understandable.”
I passed his words of praise about Dr. Proctor off to his sterling good humor and changed the subject. “Is Greg staying here?” I asked as casually as I could manage.
Jana and Bob exchanged glances. “He flew back to California this morning,” Jana said, seemingly reluctantly. “He said he’d be back. I—“She glanced at Bob again, and then back at me, “I offered to let him stay here.” She was suddenly very busy getting down cups and saucers. “I mean, we have plenty of room, and it’s good for the kids to get to know their uncle. They’ve hardly ever talked to him—“
“Jana, it’s fine,” I interrupted. “I’m glad you and Greg are talking.”
“I told you she’d say that,” Bob said, getting to his feet. He leaned down and kissed my cheek, then walked over to Jana, who got one on the lips. “I gotta get back to work, hon. I’ll call you later. Bye, Lou,” he said with a wave.
When he was gone, Jana grew even more fidgety. Bob truly was her rock. “About Greg,” she said. “I’m not taking sides or anything like that. I’m not as convinced as him that you’re having an affair.”
I took the cup of coffee she handed me without comment.
“I can’t see you doing anything like that. I mean, you’re not the type.”
Before I’d had a chance to check the words for insult, she went on. “I figured if anyone was having an affair, it was dad, not that I would have thought he’d ever look at another woman. I mean, he never did, did he?”
I laughed to hide my discomfort with her probing questions. “I don’t know, Jana. I doubt it.”
“You doubt it? Wouldn’t you know if he did?”
I looked at her helplessly.
Her eyes widened. “Is that it? Is there another woman?”
“No. Lord, Jana, give it a break.”
Jana’s brow furrowed deeply. She started and stopped a number of times before she could actually say the words. “All right. Then I have to ask. Is there another man?”
The coffee sloshed in the cup I was holding.
Chapter Twelve
“Oh, God, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re involved with another man.”
I put down my coffee cup and walked over to where Jana stood and put my hands on her shoulders, as much to steady me as to comfort her. “No, Jana. I am not involved with another man. I haven’t been since your father and I first started dating.”
“Then I don’t understand. Why?”
I shut my eyes and bit my lip.
“Why won’t you tell me? Has dad done something too awful to forgive? Has he killed someone? Is it some legal thing? Did you find out that you’re brother and sister or first cousins or something?”
“Jana. Stop. You have to stop this twenty-questions game.”
“How can I?” she asked, pulling away. “Greg’s right about one thing. There’s something really awful going on or this wouldn’t be happening, and it’s not fair that you won’t talk to us about it.”
I met her eyes without speaking.
Finally, she turned her back on me. “What do I tell the kids? How do I explain what’s happening? They love you and dad both. How can I make them understand?”
I’d had plenty of time to think about that one. “I’m not sure it’s necessary for you to tell them anything right now. If they ask, tell them that their granddad got his own new house. Tell them they’ll have two houses to visit now, but make sure they know that he and I still love them the same. They’ll follow your lead, Jana. If you explain it to them like it’s a tragedy, they’ll think of it as a tragedy. If you act like it’s a normal occurrence, that’s how they’ll treat it.”
Jana reached out and gripped the counter with both hands. “How can I pretend it’s a normal occurrence? Every time I think about it, I want to cry.”
“Then don’t think about it. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s the end of the world as I knew it,” she whispered.
A part of me knew it was true, at least for her. Another part wanted to shake her for making it worse than it was.
“Jana.” I reached out and turned her around, taking her hands. She looked over my shoulder across the room, but she didn’t pull away. “We have to put this behind us. All of us. You have to let me put it behind me. I need that. If we give it a chance, life will go on.” I wanted to touch her face, but I didn’t dare. “I know it hurts. It hurts me, too, but it’s the way it is. Okay? Being mad at your dad and me isn’t going to change anything. It’s only going to make us all more unhappy. Please…let it go.”
“Let what go,” Bobbie said, coming into the kitchen. The bear, Alice, was now wearing a wrap-around skirt made out of a hand towel held together with a safety pin.
I pasted a bright smile on my face and released Jana’s hands. “Let me go see your great-grandpa this afternoon.”
“Can I come? I could show him Alice.”
My smile faltered. The times we’d taken Bobbie and Aaron to see my father had been less than successful. The kids made him nervous and, of course, they couldn’t understand why he couldn’t remember them.
“I know he’d love to see you and Alice, but I have to go by myself today. Ma
ybe next time,” I said in typical parentese. I turned back to Jana. “We’ll talk more. I know you have questions.”
“Just one,” she said, her voice a sullen throwback to adolescence. “Why?”
“Which has been answered as completely as it’s going to be.” I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, sweetheart. Give Aaron a hug for me, will you? I’ll call you soon.”
I hugged Bobbie and made my escape as quickly as I could, but pulling away from their house brought me none of the relief I would have expected. I couldn’t seem to shake off the depression that was sucking me more and more deeply into its void.
I tried Mother’s number again with no success and decided to go on to see dad without her.
As I drove into the asphalt lot, the mystery was solved. Mother’s lime green bug was parked near the entrance.
I waved at the reception nurse and was halfway down the hall when her voice stopped me. “Mrs. Graham?”
I turned. Had the doctor barred me from the place?
She walked toward me, and I started to feel uneasy.
“Your father’s not in the dayroom right now. He’s not having a very good day. Dr. Jules and your ma are with him in his room.”
Her voice was gentle enough to scare me to death. “What do you mean, not having a good day?”
“Well, they don’t sometimes, you know. He got a bit more upset than usual. He quarreled with another of the residents.”
Visions of shiny knives flashed through my head. “Did he hurt anyone?”
An Irreconcilable Difference Page 11