Mr. Elliott Finds a Family

by Susan Floyd

  Fred and Glenn arrived at the same time the coroner did.

  “What time do you think?” Fred asked him.

  “By the amount of rigor mortis, I’d say early this morning. Would you like a few minutes with her before we take her?” the coroner asked gently.

  Beth Ann nodded and walked into the bedroom, remembering this bedroom, oh so many years ago. She was lucky to have had Grans for as long as she had. Not everyone lived to be nearly ninety. And she was lucky Grans had had a very good life until near the very end. No homes, no lasting, painful infirmities.

  Iris looked very peaceful.

  Beth Ann pulled up a chair. “Well, Grans, I guess this is it.” She couldn’t resist smoothing back Iris’s hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I just wanted to thank you for taking me in all those years ago. And I wanted to thank you for teaching me to draw and to plant gardens and cook. I—I hope you and Henry are having a t-terri-fic time—” Beth Ann broke off and gave her a quick kiss. “Goodbye, Grans.”

  She left the room and went straight into Glenn’s arms. His eyes were rimmed in red and he hugged her tightly. “I’m so sorry, Bethy.”

  “She was almost ninety,” Beth Ann hiccuped. “It had to happen sometime.”

  “But we never think of sometime as right now.”

  “I’m going to miss her,” Beth Ann sobbed. “Even though she was a lot of work, I’m really going to miss her.”

  TIME PASSED in a blur for Beth Ann. Glenn stayed on while Fred went back to San Jose, planning to be back for the small service they would have at the end of the week after Iris was cremated.

  “When is Christian coming back?” Glenn asked bluntly. Bernie was safely installed in front of the television, happily reciting an alphabet song.

  “He’s not.”

  “I can’t believe he’d miss Iris’s service,” Glenn said, his voice reproving.

  “I haven’t told him,” Beth Ann said simply. She was wiping down the chrome on the new refrigerator. Although most of Iris’s peers had already passed on, there would be a few guests coming to the house after the service and Beth Ann wanted the house to look nice.

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t want to bother him.” She couldn’t get rid of the lump in her throat.

  “I don’t think telling him Iris has died is bothering him.”

  Beth Ann felt her eyes well with tears. She stubbornly shook her head. “He left because he said he needed time. I thought about it and then figured—”

  “Call him now.”

  “What do you mean?” Beth Ann looked up.

  “It’s not that hard. Just call him and tell him there’s a service for Iris at the end of the week. He should know.”

  Beth Ann bit her lip. “This is too complicated.”

  “No, it’s not. This isn’t about your love life, Bethy. This is allowing someone to pay his respects to a loved one who’s moved on. You owe him that. After what he did for you, you owe him.”

  “I know.” Beth Ann felt like she was going to choke, just so she wouldn’t cry again. She’d been crying nonstop for two days. Her sinuses hurt. “But—”

  “There’s are no buts,” Glenn said. “Can you imagine how terrible he’ll feel, if he knows you didn’t want to call him?”

  “He left us.”

  “And he can come back. Isn’t that the point? That we can leave but then we can come back? Even Carrie knew that. In her time of need. Where did she come? Home. You’ve got to give Christian a chance to come home.”

  “It’s only going to hurt when he leaves again,” Beth Ann whispered.

  Glenn got up and took the washcloth from her. “But that’s a risk you’ll have to take. If you don’t risk, you can’t change, you can’t allow yourself new experiences.” He paused significantly, then said, “Look at your paintings.”

  “My paintings?” Beth Ann shook her head. “I haven’t even thought about those.”

  “I looked at your stuff for nearly an hour. Both Fred and I did. We love what you’ve done. Look how much your art has changed, evolved because you’ve changed.” His praise was genuine and Beth Ann felt a glow of pride inside her fog of sadness.

  “Grans taught me.”

  “She did?”

  Beth Ann nodded. “She said I needed movement.” She sighed greatly. “Okay, so I need to call him.”

  Glenn gave her a big smacking kiss on the cheek. “I’ll go learn my alphabet with the Bernster. Give you some privacy.”

  “Thanks.” She caught his arm before he was able to leave the kitchen.

  “Glenn, thank you.”

  Glenn’s smile never wavered. “You’re welcome.”

  CHRISTIAN SAT in the middle of the expansive living room in the beautiful chalet in the Napa Valley and stared at a small brown bear that had been packed way at the bottom of his leather duffel bag. He suspected that Bernie had found the perfect bed for her beloved friend and then promptly forgot about him. What he didn’t expect was the pain he’d felt when he’d found him late Sunday. He’d spent most of Monday wondering what to do with him. Couriering Fluff seemed to be the most practical solution, but somehow inhumane.

  He examined Fluff thoroughly and found nothing spectacular about the stuffed animal. Fluff stared back at him, not giving Christian the answer he was looking for. He was just a brown bear, worn thin on one ear where Bernie always carried him. Despite Fluff’s physical imperfections, there was no denying that he was Bernie’s best friend. She sat with him on Mrs. Potty, read him books, told him to go to sleep. She scolded him, laughed with him, and discarded him, only to hunt for him later, hugging him with abandon and relief when they were finally reunited. He was nothing but Fluff, not even real, but her love for him was more real than most—

  It’s just knowing what’s real and what’s not. This garden is real. Bernie is real. I’m real. This is all real. Max isn’t real. Money isn’t even all that real. He heard Beth Ann’s voice, soothing him. He heard Bernie’s laughter and Iris’s gentle conversations. His hands automatically squeezed Fluff. Sometimes coming back means going forward.

  The phone rang.

  “Hello?” he answered, his voice clipped.

  He suspected it to be Max, asking for an update on DirectTech. Christian had briefly talked to him, letting him know he was working on the details of the transfer, when in actuality, he was stalling for time, using his enormous legal base to try to find a way out of this mess. Even though his attorneys had found ways to divert Max, there was no denying that if Max ever decided to pursue paternity of Bernie, there was no way for Beth Ann to be spared a lengthy and painful court battle.

  “Christian?” The voice over the phone sounded very uncertain.

  “Beth Ann!” Christian was surprised, his heart beating rapidly. His hold on Fluff tightened. “What can I do to help you?”

  He hated how formal his voice sounded. It was his work voice, austere and distant. He’d spent years cultivating that voice. Now, he used it so she would never know how much he wanted to come back and finish the summer with her, sleep in her bed and listen to the cows moan in the distance. How much he missed Iris and how much it was killing him to know he had Fluff when Bernie had a headache.

  “If this is a bad time, I can call back la—” she started and he could hear her drift away.

  “No, no! This is fine,” he said hastily, the work voice disappearing. He winced at his eagerness. So much for staying away. “How are you?” He tried for friendly, but sounded a little desperate to his own ears.

  “Not so good,” she said.

  Did her voice waver?

  “Not so good? Bernie? Is she okay?” His heart started to pound, unspecific guilt beginning to pulsate.

  “No, no,” Beth Ann assured him. “Bernie’s fine.”

  “Is Fluff still missing?” He tried to joke and stared at the bear.

  “Yes. We’ve torn the house apart looking for him.”

  “He’ll show up,” Christian said slowly and nodded to
himself, the solution suddenly very clear. Yes. Fluff would show up, even if that meant he would take him back himself.

  Beth Ann was silent.

  “What is it, Beth Ann?” He felt a terrible sense of foreboding.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m calling to persuade you to come back. Glenn just thought you’d like to know what happened.”

  Did her voice waver again?

  “What happened? Of course, I want to know.” He made his voice as gentle as he could.

  “It’s Grans.” Now he could tell she was crying.

  “Tell me, Beth Ann,” Christian said gently. “What happened to Iris?”

  “She died early Sunday morning. I found her.”

  “She died? Early Sunday morning?” A shiver passed through him. Was their conversation the last Iris had had?

  “Y-yes.” Beth Ann sniffed. Then her voice came over the connection stronger as she spoke rapidly. “I just wanted to let you know the service for her is at the end of the week. But I’m not telling you this to make you feel obligated to come home. I just thought you needed to know.”

  Christian was silent for a long moment, just because he didn’t know how to say what it was that he was trying to say.

  “I just wanted to let you know,” she repeated.

  “I’ll be there in four hours.”

  “The service isn’t until the end of the week.”

  “I’ll find a hotel.”

  “You don’t need to do that, if you don’t mind—”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Okay, then.” She sounded relieved.

  “Is someone with you?”

  “Bernie and Glenn.”

  “Good. I’ll be there this afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Christian.”

  He felt a warm feeling spread through him. “No, Beth Ann. Thank you.” Suddenly, as if the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders, he knew the answer. There was nothing he could do about Max, there was nothing he could do to prevent him from filing for custody, but there was something he could do for Beth Ann. He could be there. He could be there and pay attention to her. The realization was liberating.

  When he arrived in Mercy Springs, the bungalow was still, although the television was on low. He plucked Fluff from the passenger seat before walking up to the door, not knowing whether to knock or just enter. He did both. He knocked and entered at the same time, poking his head through the screen.

  “Unckiss! Fuff!” Bernie screamed from the floor, jumping up. “No werk?”

  “Work?” Christian looked at Beth Ann who looked gorgeous in her shorts and baggy T-shirt, her eyes puffy from a week of crying, her skin pale and drawn, her black eye fading slightly. She looked at the stuffed animal in surprise.

  “I told her you were at work,” Beth Ann said, then added, “I had to say something. She asked.”

  Bernie ran to him and threw her arms around his leg. He lifted her carefully and she pulled Fluff against her. “How’s the old noggin?” he asked her, though he looked at Beth Ann inquiringly.

  “She’s fine, like it never happened. Sunday was the roughest day.”

  He nodded. “In more ways than one. How are you?”

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m okay. I miss her. It sure is quiet around here.”

  “Pop-pop sleeping,” Bernie said in an exaggerated whisper.

  “Glenn’s here?”

  Beth Ann rose and stretched. “He’s staying in my room until the service. They didn’t think I should be alone with Bernie so fussy and all.”

  Christian felt a sharp pang. No, she shouldn’t have been alone when she discovered her grandmother had died. He should have been here. But he wasn’t. He’d left her and he didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself for that.

  “It’s kind of macabre, but you’re welcome to sleep in Gran’s room,” Beth Ann offered.

  “The couch is fine.”

  Beth Ann nodded and then grinned. “I don’t blame you.” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t want to either. Sooner or later, I’ll need to clear it out, but it just seems way too soon.”

  Christian exhaled in relief that Beth Ann wasn’t going to banish him to a hotel. His place was in her house, even if it was on the couch. She had asked him to come home. He kissed Bernie on the cheek and set her down.

  “So sometime, when all this has settled down, we need to talk.”

  Beth Ann looked at him. “About?”

  “About Max and Caroline, me and you and Bernie.”

  Beth Ann felt her pulse quicken. “Now?”

  Christian shook his head. “Not now.”

  “Before you go,” Beth Ann ventured.

  Christian nodded. “Okay. Let’s say before I go.”

  “And when are you planning on leaving? After the service?” She knew her voice sounded whiny, needy. But she wanted to prepare herself, for when she and Bernie were alone. Although she missed Iris terribly, she would now be able to get adequate day care for Bernie and she would be able to go back to painting. Christian had reignited that spark in her.

  Christian cleared his throat and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

  “I was thinking,” he said as he left the room, “about the end of the summer.”

  Beth Ann didn’t think she heard him right but refused to follow him. She sat down on the couch and waited. A few minutes later Christian came back with a glass of iced tea and sat on the couch. Bernie immediately crawled into his lap, dragging the bear with her.

  “So what do you say?” he asked.

  He waited for Beth Ann’s response. She was very quiet.

  When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible. “I know you feel sorry for us because of Grans, but there’s really no need—”

  “It’s not about need. It’s what I want to do.” Christian took a deep breath. “I should have been here. You shouldn’t have had to find Iris by yourself. I should have been with you.”

  “I wasn’t alone. I had Bernie.”

  “At the very least, I should have stayed for a few days more just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Bernie, too. She must have been cranky.”

  “Well, I gave her a lot of that medicine,” she smiled shyly. “It worked wonders.”

  “I shouldn’t have walked away,” Christian said. “But I’d like to come back. Just like we agreed. I’ll stay until the end of summer and then—”

  “Then?” She looked at him strangely.

  “And then, we’ll take it from there.”

  Beth Ann wrung her hands.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure I can take you leaving at the end of summer.”

  Christian’s heart quickened at her soft confession.

  “And?”

  “And if you don’t want to stay for good, I’d rather that you leave sooner instead of later.”

  “For good?” Christian’s heart pounded.

  Beth Ann nodded. “For good.”

  After a minute, he started to smile and said teasingly, “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  Beth Ann looked away, her face as red as the tomatoes in her garden. “Well...”

  “I accept.”

  She stared at him for the longest time. “For good?”

  “Forever.”

  “I don’t want to move.”

  “You won’t have to. I’ll move here.”

  “What about your work?”

  “Max reminded me that I don’t have to work. Besides there’s plenty of work to be done here.”

  A glimmer of a smile hovered on Beth Ann’s lips. “We have guests coming at the end of the week and I think the toilet needs a scrub.”

  “I’m on it tonight,” Christian promised. “Is this for real? Am I staying?”

  Beth Ann swallowed hard. Was it for real? Did she want him to stay forever? Then, she nodded. “Yes, I want you to stay but—”

  “But what?”

  She couldn’t think when Christian looked
at her so intimately.

  “But you have to be able to be Bernie’s father.” She looked at Bernie who had settled into Christian’s lap, her mouth yawning open. Her eyelids drooped and she clutched Fluff.

  “I am Bernie’s father.”

  “What?”

  “I was Bernie’s father in the hospital. That was the only way they would grant her treatment. Glenn said so.”

  Beth Ann laughed softly. “What’s Bernie’s name?”

  “Bernadette Bellamy Elliott.” Christian grinned and then sobered. “I was very stupid when I thought I couldn’t love her. She’s yours and mine in every way. You taught me that. And Iris beat it into me.”

  “Grans?”

  Christian nodded, his voice gruff. “Iris told me that sometimes coming back means going forward.”

  “When did she tell you that?”

  “The night she died.”

  Beth Ann felt Iris’s presence in the room.

  He looked at her pensively. “But you know who really taught me about love?”

  Beth Ann had no idea.

  “Fluff.” Christian smiled. “Fluff is nothing but polyester and cotton and stuffing and he means more to Bernie than the world. Bernie is a giving, loving individual. How can I not love her? You were right. She’s mine and she’ll always be mine.”

  “And what about Max and Caroline?” Beth Ann watched his face grow grim.

  “I didn’t want to talk about this now,” Christian said his voice very low so as not to wake Bernie who had drifted off into a sound sleep. “It still makes me very angry.”

  “What?”

  “Max threatened to sue for custody of Bernie.”

  Beth Ann felt a shiver go down her neck. “He can’t have her.”

  “Well, according to my team of lawyers, if he turns out to be the father, he has every legal right.”

  “What does he want? He can’t want Bernie.” Beth Ann shook her head. “I saw them together. He didn’t even look at her the whole time he was here.”

  Christian sighed heavily. “He doesn’t want Bernie.”