She had the strange feeling that he was planning something, but couldn’t guess what it might be.
Lauren reached Trixie’s house right on time and knocked but no one answered. She wondered if her grandmother had heard the door and headed around to the back door, expecting to find Grandma Trixie making instant coffee. She couldn’t see anyone in the kitchen and the door was locked.
Lauren frowned and knocked again.
Maybe her grandmother had slept in after her date. They might have had a late night. She’d noticed how the two of them got talking and forgot the time. She had keys to the house, of course, but seldom used them.
This morning would be an exception. Lauren unlocked the door and immediately saw that no one had made coffee or breakfast that morning. “Grandma Trixie!” she called. “It’s Lauren. I’m here!”
There was no answer.
“Rise and shine!” she called as she put down all of her gear in the kitchen.
Silence.
How strange. Maybe her grandmother had fallen. At that thought, Lauren hurried across the kitchen and strode into the hall. The house felt still in a way that was very unnatural, as if it was empty. It never felt like that, but always seemed to exude her grandmother’s bubbly nature. Lauren hurried to the master bedroom, her concern redoubling.
She hesitated on the threshold. She could see her grandmother’s figure in bed, but something was wrong.
Grandma Trixie was too still.
That was when she realized there was something else wrong.
The smell.
Grandma Trixie hadn’t slept in.
She’d died.
* * *
Lauren called Ty first because he was the least likely of anyone in their family to become hysterical. In fact, her big brother was one of the most practical people she knew, plus she knew he was Trixie’s executor. She was feeling close to hysteria herself, after having taken a closer look at Grandma Trixie.
Lauren had wanted to be proven wrong, but her grandmother didn’t look like she was asleep. Her mouth was open, her skin was pale and she was cold. Lauren retreated to the kitchen, her hands shaking as she called Ty’s number.
“I’m sorry,” she said as soon as he answered. “I know it’s early...”
“Stop,” Ty interrupted firmly. “Take a deep breath, Lauren, and slow down. What’s wrong?”
“Grandma Trixie,” she said, her voice faltering. “She’s dead.” That was when her tears started. She took a deep breath then choked on it, the tears flowing right behind it.
Ty swore quietly. “Are you at the house?”
“Yes.”
“Have you called anyone?”
“Just you. I just got here. She wasn’t in the kitchen and she didn’t answer the door. I let myself in and—” Lauren’s voice broke.
“Okay, I’m on my way. Can you call the local police? You don’t need to use 9-1-1.”
“No, I guess there’s not much of an emergency.”
“They’ll send an ambulance, and—” he paused when Lauren took an unsteady breath. “Would you rather wait until I get there?”
“Yes,” Lauren admitted, feeling like a little girl, not an adult who could manage such practical details.
“Okay. You can stay there, or go for a walk, or get a coffee...”
“I’ll make a cup of tea.”
“Okay. I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”
“Thank you,” Lauren whispered. She gripped her phone and looked back toward the bedroom. She didn’t want to look at Grandma Trixie again like that. She wanted to remember her alive and full of trouble.
There were some pictures on the fridge, taken at Ty’s wedding, and she looked at them, fingering their edges. Her eyes filled with tears at the one of her grandmother dancing the Macarena with Kyle, her lips curved with laughter. Lauren could tell that he was teasing her and had just said something that made her laugh. Albert was looking on with pleasure.
And Kyle. Lauren’s chest tightened. Kyle looked wonderful.
She took the picture, forgot to make the tea, and went into the backyard. She had to call directory assistance since she’d deleted the number but there was only one person whose voice she wanted to hear.
* * *
Olivia had delivered an eight-pound girl.
It was amazing to Kyle that tiny Olivia could have had such a large baby, but it was all true. He’d been bombarded with phone calls and so many pictures that his phone was going to run out of space. He’d talked to Dave and to both sprouts, as well as repeatedly to his mother.
He was actually excited about seeing the baby and had told Dave that he’d be in California soon for F5.
What did an uncle send to a new niece?
Kyle had no idea so he went to the huge upmarket baby store he passed daily and begged assistance. The clerk was cute and very helpful. She wasn’t just working her commission. He knew that if he asked her for a coffee later—or pretty much anything else—she would have agreed.
Kyle didn’t ask.
His perspective had changed and he was glad. Christmas would be when his big plan came together.
Kyle could barely wait, but Lauren had made the rule and he was going to follow it.
He left the store with a ridiculous number of parcels, so many that he had trouble answering his cell phone when it rang. “Kyle here.”
A woman caught her breath, then began to cry inconsolably.
This wasn’t usually his effect on women.
“Are you sure you have the right number?” he asked when she didn’t speak.
“Oh, Kyle,” Lauren whispered, her voice thick with tears. “It’s Grandma Trixie.”
“What about Grandma Trixie?” he asked, although he had a bad feeling as to what the answer might be.
“She’s dead. I found her. I’m at the house.”
“Did you tell anyone?” he asked when she started to cry again.
“Ty’s coming.”
“Good choice,” Kyle said, trying to reassure her. “I would have called Ty, too. He’s someone who always knows what to do.”
“Yes,” Lauren agreed unsteadily.
He decided he needed to make her smile. “Whereas I am a less ideal choice, unless you want wild sex or the lime from my tequila.”
“I’ll let you go then,” she said sadly.
“No! I was trying to make you smile and clearly, I stink at that, too. If you want to talk to me, I’m right here.”
“I want you to talk to me,” Lauren said. “Tell me something, anything, to keep me from thinking about how my grandmother looks right now and how cold her hands are.”
“Her hands weren’t cold when we danced at Ty’s wedding,” Kyle said.
“I have a picture.”
“Of Trixie?”
“Of you two dancing. It was on the fridge. It’s a good picture of both of you. She must have liked it, too.” She took a shaking breath. “Albert is laughing, too.”
“I suppose we were up to mischief.”
“I think it was the Macarena.”
“Oh, she worked that one. People half her age couldn’t keep up.”
“I know.”
“There’s probably a photo of that tango she danced with Theo. I remember all the flashes going off.”
“That was great.” Lauren sniffled. “I don’t want her to be dead, Kyle.”
“No, Lor, neither do I.” There was a heavy moment of silence between them. Kyle took a deep breath and tried again to console her. “She loved you very much, Lor. Everyone could see the connection between you two.”
“Yes. I guess they could.”
“You maybe didn’t see how proud she was of you. I heard her telling Alfred about her brilliant granddaughter.”
“She has five.”
“She called you by name.”
There was a smile in Lauren’s voice when she spoke. “I’m not brilliant.”
“Trixie said so and I believe her.”
“They we
re on a date last night,” Lauren said. “She gave me heck when I called at dinner and told me that if she could date then I could certainly do so.”
It was on the tip of Kyle’s tongue to encourage that suggestion, but the timing was off. He’d just agreed to go to California on research for F5 and the last thing he wanted was Lauren starting to date when he was on the other side of the country. “Christmas isn’t that far off now,” he said. “Take the time for yourself.” When she caught her breath, he changed the subject. “Do you know Alfred’s surname? Or do you have his number? Someone should tell him.”
“Oh, God, I don’t want to.”
“Then give me the number. I’ll call him.”
“Really?”
“Really, Lor. You’ve done the awful bit.” He was firm because he thought she needed that. “Let everyone else step up now.”
“Okay.” Her voice trembled. “It’s probably in the kitchen. Hang on.”
Kyle hung on. He watched the traffic go by and the people doing their shopping. He listened to the city but mostly he listened to Lauren. He heard a door close and a drawer open. He heard her drop something and cuss a little, then she was back. She gave him the number in a breathless rush and by then, he knew what he could say.
“Have you ever heard that story that when one soul leaves this world, another one enters?”
“Yes, but it can’t be true. The population of the planet keeps increasing.”
His practical Lauren was back. That was a good sign.
Kyle sang softly. “And when I die, and when I'm gone, there'll be one child born and a world, to carry on, to carry on.”
“You’ve got a good voice,” she said quietly. “I don’t understand, though.”
“My sister-in-law, Olivia, had a baby girl last night.”
“Really?”
“Really. Eight pounds fourteen ounces, twenty-three inches long, born at 9:07 p.m. Pacific time, and if you give me a second, I’ll remember her APGAR score.”
Lauren laughed and Kyle was thrilled. “Since when do you know so much about babies?”
“Since my first niece arrived and my mother called nineteen times in a twenty-four-hour period to keep me up to date. Olivia can’t possibly have realized that her labor could inflict trauma on the other side of the country.”
“She was probably too busy to think about that,” Lauren said, a familiar smile in her voice. “Didn’t you say she was petite?”
“She is. Even in August, the baby bump looked big enough to tip her right over.” He exhaled. “I’m glad she’s okay.”
“And the baby, too,” Lauren agreed. “Did they decide on a name yet?”
“Oh, it was all planned. They’ve been trying for another sprout, preferably a girl, for a few years now. They knew it was a girl from the first ultrasound.”
“And?”
“Alexandra, but they’ll call her Sasha.”
“Nice. Your mom must be pleased.”
“She is.” Kyle didn’t want to talk about Florence’s renewed campaign to encourage him to become a husband and father. Mostly he was relieved that Kenneth hadn’t had the stuff to convince Florence to abandon California. “I’ve just been shopping for Sprout Three.”
“Who says you’re not a family man?” she teased.
“Not me. I’m a convert.”
“Go on!”
“It’s a girl. That’s a game changer. You know I’m a slave to women everywhere.”
She chuckled again. “I hear a car. Maybe it’s Ty.”
“Okay, go talk to him and I’ll call Alfred.”
“Thank you, Kyle.” Her voice was warm enough to make Kyle close his eyes and savor it. “Thanks for talking to me. I couldn’t just sit here with her.”
“I know. I’m glad you called me. If you need anything, just get in touch.”
“I will. Thank you, Kyle.”
Kyle knew what he had to do. He hurried home, stowed his purchases, and walked right back out the door without a moment’s hesitation.
He had to catch a train to Mamaroneck.
He called Alfred on the way.
* * *
By the time the reports were made and Grandma Trixie had been taken to the morgue, Lauren was exhausted. Ty was more calm and efficient than she thought she could have been, and she was glad that he’d been able to come. They stood in the living room of the house and Lauren doubted she was the only one who felt that the spark in the house had been extinguished.
“They built this house together,” Ty said, running a fingertip along the mantle. “Lived their whole marriage here.”
“And she stayed until the end,” Lauren agreed, her tears rising.
Ty put an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the kitchen. “I’ll go finish up the forms. You go home. Have a drink, maybe.”
“Or six,” Lauren tried to make a joke but it didn’t sound like one. She picked up her tote bag and her purse.
“I can give you a ride,” Ty said. “Then come back.”
“Just go, so you can get home to Amy. I can walk and take the train.” They fastened their coats and headed out the back door, which Ty locked, then down the driveway.
Kyle was leaning against Ty’s car, the collar of his leather jacket turned up and his hands jammed into his pockets. It had started to snow, and his pose made him look cold, but his eyes were simmering.
She’d never been more glad to see anyone in her life.
She stopped on the threshold and faced him, waiting for an explanation.
“Hope I’m not late,” Kyle stepped forward and claimed Lauren’s bag, resting his cheek against hers as she leaned into his embrace. He caught her close with his free hand and she just wanted to lose herself in his touch. His fingers were in her hair, his grip sexy and firm. He felt like bedrock, someone she could rely upon.
She felt rather than saw the look that Kyle and Ty exchanged. “I’ve got this,” Kyle said softly, a challenge in his tone.
“Okay,” Ty agreed after a moment. “Want a ride?”
“Three’s a crowd in that car.”
“True enough.”
“There’s a train in fifteen minutes,” Kyle said to Lauren. “Let’s go for it and get back into the city.”
“Since when do you know the schedule?” she asked lightly.
He waved his phone. “Since I looked it up. Come on. Let’s go home.”
Home.
With Kyle.
Nothing could have sounded better. It was probably a slip of the tongue but Lauren would take it.
Lauren nodded. Kyle hefted her bag and laced their hands together as they set off at a crisp pace for the station. Ty drove past them, honked and waved. Lauren waved back, then tucked her hand into Kyle’s elbow.
They didn’t say a thing on the walk or in the station. On the train, he put his arm over her shoulders and held her close. She leaned her cheek on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, then closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured and his grip tightened momentarily.
Then the train began to rock and she dozed off, feeling safe with Kyle’s arm around her shoulders. She didn’t even care what he wanted from her tonight. She was just glad to be with him.
For however long he chose to stay.
* * *
Mr. Bernard was intrigued to see Ms. McKay return home with an unfamiliar man. He was good-looking and well-dressed and roughly her age. He also seemed to be supporting her, which concerned Mr. Bernard. He hurried to get the door, since the man was carrying Ms. McKay’s bags as well, and she thanked him.
“Bad news, Mr. Bernard,” she said, and he saw that she’d been crying. “My grandmother died today.”
“I am sorry, Ms. McKay.”
“This is my friend, Kyle Stuyvesant. He’s a friend of Ty’s, too.”
“Mr. Stuyvesant.” Mr. Bernard bowed his head, relieved to hear of this man’s association with Mr. McKay.
“Friends and partners,” Mr. Stuyvesant said. “Ty
and I are two of the five friends who own Flatiron Five.”
“Ah!” Mr. Bernard nodded approval and pressed the button for the elevator. “If there’s anything I can do, Ms. McKay, you have only to call.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bernard.” She made an effort to smile, but he could see that she was devastated.
Thank goodness she had a friend with her.
Mr. Stuyvesant returned within ten minutes, and looked like a man with a mission. “I need some groceries, Mr. Bernard. I don’t think she’s eaten much all day and the fridge is empty. Can you suggest a place nearby for sandwich ingredients, maybe a bottle of wine?”
Mr. Bernard certainly could and he did so.
Mr. Stuyvesant returned in minutes, carrying several bags and looking very pleased. “That’s a great place,” he enthused. “I think they have everything and it’s all so fresh. Thanks for the recommendation.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Stuyvesant.” He pressed the button for the elevator, which had just ascended with another resident.
“You know, my building doesn’t have a doorman. You’re making me realize what I’m missing.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bernard.”
Mr. Bernard couldn’t help but watch the time. He smiled to himself when Mr. Stuyvesant left, about ninety minutes later.
“How is Ms. McKay?” he had to ask.
“Well, she ate half a sandwich and has groceries for more. Maybe the wine will help her sleep.” He pulled out a card and wrote a cell phone number on the back, then presented it to Mr. Bernard with a smile. “Just in case.”
Mr. Bernard smiled back. “Just in case, Mr. Stuyvesant. Would you like a cab?”
“No, I’ll walk, but thank you.”
Mr. Bernard held the door, then watched the younger man stride south, away from the building. He was a great one for instincts and he liked Mr. Stuyvesant very much.
Very much indeed.
* * *
The day of Trixie’s funeral was gloriously sunny. The wind was a little crisp, but the sky was so clear a blue that it looked infinite. Lauren was glad it hadn’t rained. This weather suited her grandmother’s character and perspective much better. It was easy to believe in the sunshine that Grandma Trixie had embarked on another adventure, and even easier to believe that the world was a better place because she’d lived.
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