CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Pete was worried about Gretchen. It was normal for someone to be upset about the death of a parent. It was normal for that person to seem a little numbed or lost, even a person usually in control of things. Gretchen, however, seemed completely shell shocked. He’d never seen her like this and it made him a little apprehensive for her.
When he’d seen her for the first time since the news and given her a hug, she’d put her arms around him, but barely squeezed. His wife Allyson said she’d gotten the same reaction. Gretchen had hardly said two words other than voicing her opinion of funeral home technicalities to help out poor J.J., who was an absolute mess.
John Kaiser hadn’t wanted endless hours of services. Instead, he’d requested—according to J.J.—a small memorial service and then an immediate burial, all in the same day. Pete admitted to the benefit of getting everything done and over with, but he almost wished, for Gretchen’s sake, that there was a little more to the public good-bye process. Maybe it would help her become unstuck.
The memorial service had been nice, though Pete abhorred referring to anything that had to do with death as “nice.” He hated hearing people walking away from the open casket at a wake saying, “He looks good, doesn’t he?”
No, he doesn’t look good, he always had the urge to scream. He’s dead!
But the speech given by the local priest had been gentle and kind.
Gretchen’s uncle had given a glowing, often humorous eulogy, during which Gretchen had stared straight ahead from the front row, her face showing no emotion whatsoever. Conversely, on her left, J.J. had tears rolling down his ruddy cheeks, Jenna holding his hand tightly from the chair next to him, their two older kids on the next two chairs, looking sad and uncomfortable.
Pete had watched from the corner of his eye, keeping track of Gretchen during the entire service. He wasn’t sure what he’d been waiting for. A complete breakdown? Maybe a sob? One small tear? He didn’t know. But he kept her in his sights, just in case. She had shaken hands with the endless line of John’s former coworkers and clients; at one point before the service, the line had run out the door of the funeral home and down the block and the service itself had been standing room only. John Kaiser knew a lot of people, that fact was indisputable.
The ride from the funeral home to Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery was quiet, and he could practically feel Allyson’s swirling thoughts from the seat next to him as he maneuvered their car so they followed the hearse and limo in a line down the street.
“Gretchen doesn’t look so good,” she said softly. Her creamy smooth face was clouded with worry and he felt that old familiar urge to hug her to him and make everything all better.
“I know.”
“What can we do for her? There must be something we can do.” Tears filled her big blue eyes and her voice cracked. “I hate seeing her like this.”
“Me, too, honey.” Pete had scanned the crowd all day, had kept his eyes peeled and his proximity close to Gretchen, but he hadn’t seen what he was looking for and he began to think he was holding out hope for something that just wasn’t going to happen.
“Do you think she’d let us stay with her tonight? We could do that, couldn’t we?”
Gretchen was staying at her parents’ house, despite J.J. and Jenna’s offer to stay with them and the kids. Pete didn’t like the idea of her being there alone, but he was 99.9 percent sure she would refuse Allyson’s offer and claim that she’d be fine, that she preferred to be alone.
“I doubt she’ll go for it. You know how she is.” Allyson mulled that over for several minutes. “Well…maybe it will be good for her to be alone. Maybe that’s when she’ll allow herself to grieve. I mean, I know they weren’t close, but…he was still her father.”
Pete nodded as they turned into the gated entrance of the cemetery.
He hadn’t been there in years, but he was continually awed by the age, by the feel of history that always struck him whenever he passed through the large stone pillars. He parked in a line with the other cars and walked a short way to the freshly dug grave next to Emma Kaiser’s as the funeral home employees positioned the casket nearby and laid a large bouquet of white roses on top.
Pete and Allyson stood behind Gretchen, each of them laying a hand on the shoulder of her black dress. Pete felt her stiffen slightly as she turned around and met him with hollow, haunted dark eyes. Her pain stabbed him deep in the gut, but he didn’t know what to do for her so he squeezed her shoulder and left his hand there throughout the service.
The blessing was short and sweet and the priest mentioned that the family wished to express its thanks by inviting everybody to J.J. and Jenna’s home for coffee and pastries. J.J.’s cheeks were still wet as he pulled a red rose from a nearby arrangement and stepped forward to lay it upon his father’s casket. Jenna followed him, an audible sob issuing from her chest, then the children. Gretchen didn’t move and stood as if riveted to the ground. The crowd began to slowly disperse and make their way back to their cars.
J.J. stopped next to his sister, kissed her sweetly on the cheek, and headed for the limo. Jenna did the same, unable to hide her worry, and squeezed Gretchen’s hand before following her husband. In a few short minutes, there were only Gretchen, Pete, Allyson, and the funeral home workers left.
“Gretchen?” Pete said softly. “Ready to go?” Gretchen cleared her throat and spoke to him for the first time in hours, though she stared straight at the casket and didn’t turn to meet his eyes. Her voice was hoarse. “I think I’m going to stay here for a little longer.”
“You don’t have a car, sweetheart.”
“I know. I’ve got my cell. I can call a cab when I’m ready.” Pete pursed his lips. “Can we wait for you?”
“It’s okay, Pete. Thanks, though. Jenna will be looking for you two.”
“You’re sure?” Allyson asked. It was clear that this idea didn’t sit well with her.
Gretchen nodded.
Pete took a deep breath and let his eyes wander the cemetery as he searched his brain for a way to not leave Gretchen alone there. When his gaze fell on the figure standing near a tree a dozen feet away, relief flooded his heart.
“As long as you’re sure,” he said. Allyson looked at him as if he was insane for agreeing to leave her there alone, but he leveled a reassuring gaze at her behind Gretchen’s back and she refrained from comment.
As they headed to their car, they passed the woman leaning on the tree, and Pete gave her a nod and a heartened smile of thanks. Allyson took in the woman’s blond hair, simple black skirt and white blouse, and tear-stained face and smiled sympathetically.
When they were safely past her, she whispered, “Who was that?”
“If my instincts are correct, that, my dear, was the person who’s going to help Gretchen get through this.” He broke into a genuine grin for the first time all day.
Allyson furrowed her brows in confusion and he gave her time to put the pieces together. “Wait…” Her eyes widened. “That was her? She came all the way down here?”
Pete nodded with satisfaction. “Kylie O’Brien. In the flesh.”
“Oh, thank God,” Allyson muttered.
“Tell me about it.”
They got in their car and Pete turned the key in the ignition but didn’t shift into gear right away. Instead, he and Allyson watched as Kylie approached Gretchen from behind and stopped a foot or two away from her. Gretchen turned and her face registered a crystal-clear combination of surprise, joy, and relief. It didn’t look to Pete like Kylie said a word; she simply opened her arms.
“Oh, my God.” Allyson’s gasp was audible next to him as she watched Gretchen step into Kylie’s embrace without a second thought.
Gretchen’s smaller body began to shake with sobs.
“Told you,” Pete said, his voice quiet and proud. He shifted the car into drive and pulled away.
* * *
Gretchen wasn’t sure how long she stood wrapped up in
Kylie, how long she’d cried in Kylie’s arms, but she knew she never wanted to let go. She felt relieved. She was warm, safe, protected.
Loved.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she mumbled against the soft, silky fabric of Kylie’s white blouse.
“I’m a little late. Sorry.”
“How did you find me?”
Kylie smiled against Gretchen’s hair and tightened her arms around the small frame. “MapQuest is a beautiful thing.”
“How did you even know?” Gretchen pulled back far enough to become lost in the emotional blue of Kylie’s eyes. “I mean, I should have called you. I’m so sorry I didn’t.”
Kylie used her thumb to wipe away the tears on Gretchen’s cheek.
“Wheeler told me. As for getting the right time and information…” Her eyes twinkled. “I had a little help.”
“You called Pete.”
“I did.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“He cares a lot about you.”
Gretchen nodded. She turned back to the gravesite, her palm sliding down Kylie’s arm and finding a comfortable grip on her hand.
The funeral home employees who were left tried hard to look as though they were paying no attention to the two women, not wanting to intrude, so they busied themselves arranging and rearranging flowers and such.
Gretchen knew she needed to let them get on with their jobs. She took a deep breath as she gave her father’s casket one last look.
Bye, Daddy.
Turning to Kylie with a lump in her throat and the irritating threat of more tears, she asked, “Did you drive or fly?” Kylie grimaced sheepishly. “I thought I could probably use the drive time to do some thinking.” She pointed. “My car’s right there.” Gretchen voice was a hoarse whisper. “Can you drive me home?”
“Of course I can.”
Once situated in the car, Kylie was forced to drive one-armed, as Gretchen surprised her by once again grasping Kylie’s hand, lacing their fingers together. They didn’t say much, Gretchen giving directions here and there, but her grip on Kylie’s hand remained tight and secure.
She felt almost afraid to let go.
Gretchen watched out the window as they zipped along the streets, feeling somehow annoyed at the people who carried on with their mundane tasks on their regular day. Couldn’t they see this was no regular day? She wanted to scream at them. Instead, she gripped Kylie’s hand tighter.
She still couldn’t believe Kylie was here, that she’d taken the time to drive all the way to be here for her, despite the fact that she’d never even met Gretchen’s father. What did I do to warrant such caring from her?
Rather than try to answer the question, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to claw her way out from under the pile of thoughts and feelings that threatened to smother her. Her head was too full and she felt like she might simply collapse into a pile of mush any minute from the weight of it all.
They pulled into the driveway of Gretchen’s father’s house after about twenty minutes. As she awkwardly shifted into park with her left hand, Kylie asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go to your brother’s place?”
Gretchen shook her head. “I just…don’t want to be around all those people right now.”
“Well, I’ve reserved myself a room at the Holiday Inn for the night and I have my cell. Please don’t hesitate to call—”
“What?” Gretchen interrupted her. “No. No, you don’t have to stay there. You can stay here.”
Kylie wrinkled her nose. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude, Gretchen. I know you want to be alone and I…I understand that.”
“No, no.” Gretchen pressed her lips together as she gathered her thoughts and chose her words carefully. “I don’t want to be around those people. But I’d be really grateful if you’d stay here. Tonight. With me.” She stared at her lap, feeling twelve.
Kylie suppressed a grin, thinking that vulnerable actually looked good on Gretchen. “If you’re sure,” she said with gentleness, looking down at their still-linked hands.
“I am.”
“Okay, then.”
They got Kylie’s duffel bag out of the trunk and Gretchen led her into the house. Kylie looked around, trying without much difficulty to picture a young version of Gretchen wandering around, studying, following all the rules like a good girl.
“You can put your bag in here,” Gretchen said as she headed up the hardwood stairs. She opened a door at the top and entered the inviting lavender bedroom of her childhood.
Kylie noticed Gretchen’s bag on the floor at the foot of the bed and decided not to comment on the fact that she was being put in the same room. She made a mental note to deal with that later. Her eyes fell on the trophy shelf in the corner and she walked over to it with a smile.
“Wow,” she commented. She ran her fingertips lightly over the metal, wood, and crystal and was reminded of all the “adult” awards in Gretchen’s office back in Rochester. “You were a gymnast?”
“Until I was fourteen. Tore the tendons in my knee.”
“And that was it, huh?”
“That was it.”
“Well, that sucks.” Kylie tried not to think about how heartbreaking a blow that must have been for a girl so young. Her eyes traveled over the academic awards, sensing that Gretchen had simply focused her efforts elsewhere. “You were quite an accomplished kid.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have much of a social life. I was too busy trying to impress my dad with that stuff.” Gretchen’s voice held a trace of bitterness. “Fat lot of good it did me.” Kylie turned to look at Gretchen, who had kicked off her heels and was now even smaller than Kylie was used to her being. “This is the part where I’m supposed to reassure you that your father was definitely impressed, but I don’t think that’s going to make much difference to you right now, especially since I never even met the man. So I’ll just tell you this: I’m impressed.”
Gretchen’s face softened. God, I’m glad you’re here. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Kylie crossed the room and stood in front of Gretchen, studying her carefully. With Kylie still in her pumps and Gretchen in her bare feet, Kylie seemed to tower over her, emphasizing her recent vulnerability.
She touched a hand to Gretchen’s cheek and ran a thumb over the dark circle beneath her eye.
“When’s the last time you ate something?” she asked with tenderness.
Gretchen shrugged. “Yesterday morning? I haven’t been very hungry.”
“I understand that. But you need to eat. Tell you what. Let’s both get out of these clothes and into more comfortable ones and I’ll see if I can’t whip us up a little something. Okay?” Gretchen didn’t want to admit to the need to be taken care of, at least for tonight; it just wasn’t in her nature. But it was such a relief to hand over the reins, no matter how uncharacteristic a move. She weakly nodded her assent and turned to her opened bag.
Kylie rummaged through her own bag, pulled out a gray Provincetown T-shirt and an old pair of navy blue gym shorts, and went into the adjoining bathroom to change, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. Ignoring the lingering scent of Gretchen’s perfume that hung in the air of the small room, and resisting the urge to examine the brands of shampoo and soap in the shower, she changed quickly and exited.
In the bedroom, Gretchen was sitting on the edge of the bed, still clad in her black dress and staring off into space. Kylie approached her slowly, squatted down in front of her, and laid a hand on one knee.
“Gretchen?” She looked up into the drawn face and watery eyes.
“You okay?”
Gretchen said simply, “I had time, you know.”
“Time for what, sweetheart?”
“Time to fix things. With my dad. Time to talk to him, to try to iron out the issues. He wanted to, I think. My brother was right. I was too selfish, too stubborn. Just like him.”
Kylie took in a deep breath, searching for the right words to say and having
a harder time than she expected. “Everybody has regrets when somebody dies, Gretchen. I think that’s a normal reaction. We all have things we wish we’d said or done differently.” Gretchen nodded, her gaze finally focusing on the younger woman who was trying so hard to make her feel better. She brushed her fingers through the front of Kylie’s hair. “I know.” Kylie smiled, loving the feeling of connectedness Gretchen’s touch instilled in her. “I’m going to go loot the kitchen. Get changed and come on down, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kylie squeezed her hand and left the room. Only then did Gretchen allow one lone tear to spill over and track down her pale cheek. She focused on it, forced herself to feel the warmth of it as it left a line down her face. Crying wasn’t something she did often, and the sensation was practically foreign to her. She was tough and strong. Tough, strong people don’t show emotion. She learned that from watching her father, who rarely showed any emotion other than stoicism.
But she was so tired. Being tough and strong and stoic was exhausting. Had John Kaiser been this tired?
She sighed as if the weight of the world was upon her shoulders, then stood up and removed the black dress. She changed into soft cotton drawstring pants in a baby blue with pink stripes and a simple, snug white tank top. Examining her pale, drawn face in the bathroom mirror, she sighed again, thinking, as she reached for a plastic hair clip, that she looked every bit as old and tired as she felt. She pulled her unruly hair back and fastened the clip at the base of her neck.
The smell of food hit her the second she opened the bedroom door and she salivated immediately. The rumbling of her stomach was loud enough to surprise her and she actually smiled at the sound.
Okay. Apparently, I’m hungry.
Kylie was humming softly as she flitted around the kitchen, searching cupboards and the fridge for various items required to create her culinary masterpiece of cheese omelets. Gretchen stood in the doorway, unseen for several minutes, just watching her.
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