by Dorien Grey
“Would you consider letting her see Kelly occasionally?”
“We might. Jan and I have never really gotten along, and she was the reason Carlene left. Still, I know she truly cares for Kelly and can imagine how she must feel. But she’s never asked, and it’s not my place, under the circumstances, to offer.”
She was right, of course, but I thought it was quite possible that Jan never asked because she was sure Beth would say “No.” But perhaps now I might have a wedge to get Jan Houston to talk to me.
*
I picked up Joshua at four thirty and, at his insistence, gave him a piggyback ride to the car, where I merely had to ask, “So what did you do today?” to get a detailed if disjointed verbal journey through his day—real and imagined. But it was good to see him returning to his normal self and I’d found that, though it took quite a bit of concentration at times to follow his meanderings, they were really pretty much worth the effort.
I really didn’t feel much like cooking, so we stopped at a Cap’n Rooney’s Fish Shack so Joshua could see the fish while we ate dinner.
I’d deliberately tried not to think about Jonathan during the day. When I did, I realized how rough it must be for him, and felt helpless because there was nothing I could do to help him through it.
The evening went fairly well, though as time passed I found myself getting more and more anxious to hear from Jonathan. And every time I’d look at Joshua, I’d feel oddly sad for him thinking of him having to go to a new home. With relatives, true, but still never the same. And while I tried not to think of it, I knew I would miss him…a lot.
I made some popcorn and Joshua intermittently played on the floor and came to sit beside me to watch a TV special on elephants.
Bath, story time—Bunny Tales, which I had to take great pains to read to Bunny, too—and Joshua was set for the night.
I returned to the living room and alternated my attention between the TV and the telephone. The late news was just starting when the phone rang. I grabbed it halfway through the first ring.
“Hi, Babe,” I said, keeping my voice down. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” he said, but his voice said otherwise.
“How did the funeral go?” I prompted after a moment’s silence from his end.
“It was…fine, I guess. I don’t remember most of it.”
Another long silence.
“And did you decide who would be taking care of Joshua?” I asked gently.
A third pause, then a simple, “Me.”
CHAPTER 9
“What do you mean, you?”
“That’s what Samuel and Sheryl wanted. It’s in their will. They want me to be his guardian. And no one else could take him anyway. My dad’s too old and he works too much, and my sisters have enough to do to manage their own families.
“They want me to move back here with Joshua…”
My first, terrible, selfish thought was He’s leaving me! I was literally ill.
“…but I told them ‘no.’ I have a good job, and he’s in day care, and I can find an apartment…”
“What in hell are you talking about?” I demanded, probably a lot more harshly than I intended. “What about us?”
I could tell he was crying, though he tried hard not to let me know.
“I know I’ve teased you about us having a kid, but I know you don’t want one, and now I realize I just can’t do that to you—change your life so completely.”
I didn’t know what to say, but I said it anyway. “Jonathan, Jonathan! You changed my life completely. I’d never be the same without you. Joshua is a part of you—and I want him to be a part of both of us!”
I said that? Dick Hardesty actually said that?
Jonathan dropped all pretexts that he wasn’t crying.
After reassuring each other that he didn’t want to leave and I didn’t want him to, we managed to get through the rest of the call, which mainly concerned logistics. He didn’t know what of Joshua’s things to bring back with him, or what of Samuel and Sheryl’s personal things he should set aside for Joshua when he got older, or….
I finally suggested that he just bring some of Joshua’s clothes and a few toys back with him, and simply close up the house—his dad and local sister could look after it—until next spring, when we could drive out there and see about everything else. The house and everything Samuel and Sheryl owned, of course, was willed to Joshua under Jonathan’s guardianship.
We confirmed that he would be taking the first connecting flight from Rhinelander and would be home around three o’clock, in time to pick up Joshua at Happy Day. I’d of course meet him at the airport.
We exchanged “I love yous” and hung up.
*
I didn’t sleep much that night, realizing the truth of that old saying: Today is the first day of the rest of your life. I didn’t feel I was being melodramatic when it dawned on me that my life—our lives—had been changed forever.
Tuesday morning was a repeat of Monday, but it had new significance in the realization that now Monday and Tuesday mornings were going to be repeated every day for the next foreseeable number of years.
The first thing Joshua wanted to know when he got up was if Uncle Jonathan was back yet. I told him no, but that he would be at school to pick him up that afternoon. Getting dressed, he asked again. Same question, same answer. Joshua wanted to wear his Winnie the Pooh pullover shirt, and insisted on putting it on himself. He didn’t get tangled up in the arms this time, but he did manage to get it on backwards.
Get used to it, Hardesty.
*
At the office I got to thinking again about insurance—partly because it was on my mind now in regard to Joshua, and partly because Jan Houston’s red convertible popped into my head. If Jan did buy her car with insurance money she got from Carlene’s death, that begged the question of how. Did Carlene have a policy her sister Beth didn’t know about? Again, if she did, the beneficiary would most certainly have been Kelly, not Jan. And if Jan had taken out a policy on Carlene, that would be very odd indeed. And depending on when the policy had been taken out….
Jan and Carlene had both been working for…what was the name of the company?…Indemnity Mutual, I think it was, when they first got together. How could I find out if there was a policy, and if so, what company issued it—which would clue me in as to how recently it was issued.
I pulled the license plate number of the red convertible out of my billfold and called Bil Dunham at the DMV, asking him for verification of ownership and who held the title.
He returned my call half an hour later, saying the vehicle was in the name of Janice Maureen Houston, and she held clear title—which strongly indicated she’d paid cash! Since my mind often knows things before I do, I found myself asking for Jan’s date of birth from her driver’s license and wrote it down.
Following the same hunch, I called Information for the phone number of Indemnity Mutual’s Carrington office—having no idea, of course, if they even had an office there. Luck was with me, and I was given a number.
Flying totally blind, I dialed the number, hoping my luck would hold. I guess I figured that since both Jan and Carlene had worked for Indemnity Mutual, it might be logical that any insurance they had might have been placed through them.
“Good Morning, Bolger Insurance.”
“Good Morning,” I replied in my best confident Butch voice. “I wonder if you might help me? I…”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she interrupted, “but Mr. Bolger is not in the office at the moment, and I am temporarily replacing his secretary, who is on maternity leave.”
“Well, this is a rather simple question. My sister recently died and she had told me she had a life insurance policy with Indemnity Mutual, but we’ve been unable to find the paperwork. Could you just check for the policy number so I can request it from the main office?”
She appeared hesitant. “I…I’m not sure I am allowed to give out that information, sir.
”
Damn, I thought, but kept going. “I’m sure it’s no problem. My entire family has been insured through this company for years.” I hoped she wouldn’t look too closely at the non-sequitur aspect of that last statement. “Her name is Carlene Jane DeNuncio; her address in Carrington was Twenty-sixteen Blythe Drive. I’d really appreciate it,” I added as warmly as possible. Luckily, I’d remembered her middle name from the minister saying it several times at the funeral.
There was a slight pause, then, “That name does sound familiar. Just a moment, sir. We’ve just gotten a new computer system, and it may take me a moment.”
“That’s fine…I can wait. Thank you.”
Fingers crossed.
A very long silence, in which I could hear what sounded vaguely like typing.
Finally, “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t find anything on it.”
“Ah? That’s very strange.” I paused for effect, then said, feigning a light-bulb moment, “Oh, of course!! The policy was taken out in her name by her partner, Jan—Janice Maureen Houston, same address. I can give you her social security number if it will help.”
I did, and she went back to her computer.
Another long delay, then, “Yes, sir. Now I remember. The policy was issued from this office—I remember because it was the first claim I processed when I started here, about a month ago. Your sister did have a policy, but it was under the name of Jan Houston, who was the sole beneficiary.”
“It was issued from your office, you said?”
“Yes. It had Mr. Bolger’s signature, I remember.”
“I see. Well, I very much appreciate your help.”
“If you’d care to hold a moment, I see Mr. Bolger just driving up now. He might be able to give you some more information.”
“Thank you very much, but I think I have what I need. Have a nice day.” And I hung up.
I hadn’t asked the amount of the policy, but it didn’t really matter…it was enough to buy a new car. And if it was taken out from the Carrington office, that meant it had to have been within the last year.
Next step…to have a little talk with Jan Houston.
*
But not right then. It was getting close to lunchtime, and I was already getting antsy to pick up Jonathan at the airport. I puttered around the office for a while, then went downstairs to the café in the lobby for a ham-and-turkey club with an order of potato salad and a large coke. Actually, for some reason, I felt like walking down to Hughie’s, the local hustler bar about two blocks from work, for a dark beer. I hadn’t been there for a long time, and had no idea where the urge had come from, but I resisted it. Probably just another subconscious reminder that the past was past.
I guess I’d been subconsciously resisting giving any thought to just how strong an impact Samuel and Sheryl’s deaths would have on my life—well, our lives, of course. I didn’t mean that to sound like I was making it all about me. Samuel and Sheryl were dead, and my heart ached for Jonathan’s grief. But the fact was that I was sort of on the far side of the equation in dealing with their deaths. Dealing with Joshua’s entrance into our lives was another matter entirely. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I’d be able to cope with having a four-year-old boy around all the time. I realized I was already getting more attached to him than I thought I would, and even more than I probably should. But Joshua was Jonathan’s blood relative, and I really didn’t have any idea of how that might affect my relationship with Jonathan.
And now with Jonathan coming home, a whole new and different set of dynamics would be put into place—plus dealing with Jonathan’s grief to boot.
Well, we’d just have to wait and see.
*
Jonathan’s flight was ten minutes late getting in and I was standing as close to the door as I could get when the passengers started coming off. Jonathan was in the second wave of disembarking passengers and we spotted each other at the same time. Neither of us smiled, and he just walked directly over to me and put his arms around me without a word. I didn’t know what to say, myself, so we just hugged until it became obvious we were interrupting the traffic flow. We broke the hug and Jonathan readjusted his book bag on his shoulder.
He looked a little pale, and had obviously lost some weight, though he’d not been gone all that long.
“I missed you,” we both said in unison, as we headed toward the baggage area.
In addition to his book bag and the one carrying case he had with him, there was another very large, older model Samsonite suitcase and a slightly smaller cloth bag.
“I brought most of his clothes,” Jonathan explained as I picked up the largest suitcase and smaller bag. “And a couple of toys Dad and Sarah said were his favorites—I figure we can always get him more toys, but I wanted him to have some things he’s familiar with.”
We had just enough time to swing by home and bring everything inside. Jonathan suggested we put them in our room, then we could take our time putting them away where they were going to go. We didn’t talk all that much in the car. I felt a little awkward in that I wasn’t sure what to say and what not to, so I just drove with one hand and held his hand with the other most of the way. I didn’t want to pressure him, and I knew he’d tell me whatever he wanted to tell me when he got around to it.
It was odd, in a way; he was Jonathan, but something was different. He wasn’t the same Jonathan I knew so well, but how could he be? No quick smiles, no joking around, no spontaneous laughter. I hoped this was all just part of the healing process and not a permanent change.
We arrived at Happy Day just in time. We passed a few of the parents and their kids on the sidewalk, and as we opened the gate to enter the yard I could see Joshua standing behind the screen door, his hands and nose pressed against the mesh. When he saw Jonathan, he stepped back from the screen and began hopping up and down, his face in a huge grin. Jonathan took the porch steps three at a time and hurried to the door. Opening it, he scooped Joshua up, raising him over his head, then lowered him to give him a big hug.
“Did you bring me a present?” Joshua asked.
And so began our new life.
*
Though I suggested that Jonathan might want to take a day or two off before returning to work, he insisted on going in the next day. And before he and Joshua left Wednesday morning, Jonathan reminded me that he had class Wednesday night. He was obviously bound and determined to get his life back as quickly as possible, and while I admired him for it, I was a little worried about him trying a bit too hard. But I decided that getting life back on track was a logical and worthy goal, and the first thing I did upon arriving at the office was to dig out Jan Houston’s work phone number.
I’d debated on whether to contact the police with the information about the insurance policy Jan had taken out on Carlene’s life. I had no idea what if anything the police were doing as follow-up to Carlene’s death, or if there was any sort of investigation going on. Chances are, there wasn’t. It was mysterious, yes: why the driver of the van that killed Carlene was apparently never found. But it was a male driver, and since I’m sure the police knew Carlene was lesbian…. And Jan had an alibi for the day Carlene died, flimsy though it was. I just wondered if the Carrington police had the time or the experience—not to mention the willingness—to launch a full-scale investigation.
So I decided, before making any unnecessary waves, to try to approach Jan directly. I knew she’d be reluctant—which was probably a gross understatement—to talk to me, but I had to try. I’d use my conversation with Beth about the possibility of Jan seeing Kelly on a regular basis as a wedge to open the door. If it worked, fine. If it didn’t, I’d at least tried.
I waited until a little after nine, then called.
“Parker Precision Products,” the female voice announced.
I asked to speak to Jan Houston and was asked who was calling, and I gave her my name hoping Jan wouldn’t remember it.
She did. After a pause for the transfer to be made,
Jan’s voice came on, low, quiet, and no-nonsense.
“I told you to leave me alone!”
“I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. To me or to you?”
“To both of us, actually. I wanted to talk to you a little about Kelly and ask you a few questions about Carlene.” Not waiting for a reply, I forged ahead. “I’ve got to come up to Carrington today on business,” I lied, “and wondered if you could meet me for lunch.”
“I bring my lunch.”
“That’s okay.” I felt rather like I was trying to reel in a fish. “Is there a park nearby? I can pick up something and we could eat there.”
There was a long pause, then, “What did you want to say about Kelly?” She was still trying to get off the hook.
“I don’t want to tie you up on the phone too long. I know you’re busy. So can we meet?”
A sigh. “I…I suppose. Scarletti Park’s about a block away. I can meet you there at noon, near the sundial in the middle of the park.”
“Great! I’ll meet you there. And thanks.”
I glanced at my watch as we hung up, and saw I’d need to hurry if I was going to make it to Carrington on time. I made a quick call to Evergreens just to leave a message for Jonathan as to where I was going in case he might try to call me.
I next called down to the diner in the lobby to ask for a pastrami on rye, a bag of chips, and a large Coke to go, and also asked for a large cup of crushed ice. I had a small cooler in the trunk of the car, and figured the ice would keep the food fresh for the drive.
Just as I was walking out the door, the phone rang, and I debated on whether to answer it or not—not much of a debate, though, since I think I’m genetically incapable of ignoring a ringing phone.
It was Phil, calling to ask about Jonathan. They’d hesitated to call the apartment until they thought Jonathan was up to talking, and I thanked him and assured him it would be okay.
“Oh, Tim and I were talking, and any night you and Jonathan might want to get out for just the two of you, let us know. We’ll be happy to look after Joshua.”