DELTADREAM: That’s sad. People can be so cruel sometimes.
DLASTROMEO: Yeah I know, but she never got upset about it. Or at least she never let me know if she was upset about it. I wanted to go down there. At least call her “friend” up but she said it wasn’t a big deal. She said she didn’t want to go back because it was upsetting the work flow in the office and she could never get anything accomplished while there.
DELTADREAM: Sounds like you had something very special.
DLASTROMEO: Yeah, I know that now. That’s why I haven’t dated. It wasn’t a perfect love. I just wish I could have appreciated more what we did have, when we had it. But I guess that’s normal after losing someone you love.
Betty and Drew both gazed at their screens for an endless moment, neither knowing what to type next.
DLASTROMEO: NEW SUBJECTI Tell me more about your friend.
DELTADREAM: Evander? Where do I start? I try to appreciate each day. I feel fortunate to have him.
As the words left her fingers, doubts bubbled in her mind and she looked at the clock.
DLASTROMEO: Well I assure you, love, Evander is more than likely bending his knees every now and then thanking God for you as well. You know, I hear a lot of females out there crying about a decent black man. But they exist. I have a young lady I work with and she is always bragging about her husband to the point where I think my office manager gets a little sick of it sometimes. But I am happy for her just as I’m happy for you.
DELTADREAM: You are indeed the charmer. But I guess you are told that often.
They conversed until five minutes before Betty’s expected call, and Drew asked for permission to send her E-mail from time to time. He added that he wanted to ask permission first since Evander may find it and take it the wrong way. Betty told him it would be okay and if he ever needed to talk to a friend, to drop her a line. More than anything she was impressed that he would ask for permission to correspond and felt that he was one of the few men on-line who had indeed earned his screen name.
Seconds after Betty signed off, the phone rang. “Hello?”
“How are you? Seems we’ve not talked in days.”
“I know. It was a long day today.” She wanted to ask him so many questions and she wanted to conceal her excitement at hearing his voice, but could not.
“I called I don’t know how many times, but I never caught you in the office and I didn’t want to leave a message. I know how busy you are with the case and all.”
“I spent most of the day in the library and then—”
“Beep?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
After a pause she said, “I love you too,” with a smile that erased many of the doubts in her mind. “I miss you like I don’t know what.”
“I miss you too. It’s just that when I came back down here I noticed all the work that needed to be done around the house, and Shawn is talking about not going to college. Momma just needs a man around here for little things every now and then. But you don’t know how much I miss you. I know you’re busy and all, but I am taking Shawn to visit a junior college about forty-five minutes away from Gainesville. Do you think you could swing down and have lunch with me? I know this is short notice.”
“Baby, you know I would if I could. But we have that meeting I was telling you about with Renfro on Tuesdays, and I promised Carol I would take her to lunch downstairs. Actually we’ll probably have to work while we eat because there is so much to do.” Evander was momentarily silent as Betty said, “I’m sorry. I really would like to see you too.”
“I know. Well, I should be back Thursday or Friday and we’ll make up for lost time then. Okay?”
“Okay,” Betty replied as she settled on her couch and Tickey lay on the floor beside her. “It’s a date. We’ll do something special when you get home.”
Chapter 15
Tuesday
“What time is it?” Drew asked Grace, who was typing a memo at her desk.
“A quarter to four and you have a four-o’clock with Morgan and Kline, or have you forgotten that too?”
“That’s right. That is today, isn’t it?” Drew said as he glanced at the calendar on his credenza.
“Peggy!” Grace yelled toward the back of the office. “Pick up line three. It’s the dealership! Drew, I looked earlier, but I didn’t see a file for this appointment. Do you need a new-prospect folder?”
“No, that’s okay. This is personal business.” It was the day of the reading of the will, and between helping Peggy with the Con-National proposal and putting the finishing touches on the Murphy, Renfro and Collins deal, the week had passed him by like a blip on a screen. Peggy had had several interviews with Con-National, and after she’d impressed them, Zelma had asked Drew to approach the board of directors regarding the advantages of giving one firm a bigger piece of their retirement fund to invest. Drew had spoken with Zelma several times on the phone prior to his presentation to the board, and although she had asked him out to happy hour, each time he had had an excuse not to accompany her. Not only had the Felicia wound not healed, he had never mixed business and pleasure, and he had no intention of breaking his self-imposed rule regarding such a potentially large client.
The first time he’d met Zelma in the lobby of his office, it had taken all his self-control not to ask her out. As they’d made eye contact, the tip of her tongue had slid seductively across the inside of her enticing lips. Without her uttering a word, Drew could tell she was aggressive even before she’d walked into his office and left her business card. He could see it in the way she’d stood self-assured and well polished. The way her shapely body had appeared immodest, even under the blue cashmere suit. Drew could see it in her eyes, which were bawdy while being consummately professional. Her entire being had said, “I can have you if I want you,” while her tongue had had no need to say the words.
As he slipped a few files in his briefcase in the event he was not able to make it back, Drew’s eyes rested on the picture of him and Felicia on his desk. He had tried to move it so many times before, but never had the strength to follow through. And then it occurred to him that the Felicia he loved would not want him to build a bunker of self-pity. The lady he’d given his heart to would encourage him to live his life to the fullest and not dwell in the past. With those thoughts, Drew slipped on his jacket, placed the framed portrait in his briefcase, snapped the brass locks closed, and turned off the light in his office.
Drew was heading for the door as Grace ended a call and said with her finger extended, still holding the phone receiver, “Ahh, excuse me, Drew! I know you in a rush, but you better tell Ms. Thing here something before I have to hurt her feelings.”
“Who do you mean? Zelma?”
“Ahh, yeah. She called here yesterday and I told her I gave you her message. And now she just called again and asked, ‘Did you give him the messages?’ and I said yeah and she said just like this, ‘Yeah, right.’ Just like that, she said it. ‘Yeah right.’ She don’t know me like that.” Grace hung up the phone, put her hand on her hip, swiveled her neck while her extended finger made a tight circle in the air. “I’ll hurt girlfriend’s feelings. Who she think she is? You better talk to her, Drew.”
With a smile Drew looked back as he opened the door. “I’ll talk to her. Thanks for telling me.”
As Drew put his car in reverse, he saw Peggy run out from the firm waving her hands.
Running up to his door, she asked, “Can you give me a ride down to the repair shop to pick up Walt’s car?”
“I’m running late, but jump in,” he replied, and cleared a space on the seat.
As she sat down, Peggy buckled up and caught her breath. “I appreciate this. That damn Four Hundred stays in the shop more than the Three Hundred does.”
“That’s what you all get for buying a Lex. You should have bought a Benz. I tried to tell you,” Drew replied, and pulled out of the parking lot.
“So where are you off
to, without a client folder? Sneaking out for a little golf, huh?” And then before he could answer she said, “How’s Murphy, Renfro and Collins looking?”
“Well, I spoke to the underwriter last week and it looks like we should be ready to deliver the plan and make it all official, if not this week, by the middle of next week.”
“Good,” she replied, looking out the window and tapping her thumb nervously on her thigh.
“Why? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she said, still peering out the window, apparently deep in thought.
“Reason I ask is if you need an advance or something, you know—”
“Drew,” Peggy said as she looked him in the eye and her thumb paused in its tapping, “I’m okay. I was just checking. Besides, you never answered my question. You got the golf clubs in the trunk?”
“I wish. Today is the day of the reading of the will, and I am not looking forward to it.”
“Why not?”
“Peggy, from what I could see at the funeral, these people are dirt-poor,” Drew said, putting on his sunglasses. “If she had something and left me anything, it would be too much as far as I’m concerned. I just don’t want to walk in there looking like a gold digger or anything.”
“Please. Whatever she left you, Drew, you would be disrespecting her memory not to take it. She loved you and she meant for you to have whatever is in the will.”
“Thanks, I needed to hear that.” And then Drew lowered his voice and said, “You wanna know what my biggest regret was about all of this? Other than never saying goodbye? I bought her a ring about a month after we met. Like I told you, I always knew she would be the one, but I just never found the right time to give it to her. And then there were times when I just didn’t think the love was fifty-fifty. One night I remember we were watching this movie and I thought to myself, now would be a good time. So I went to my room and put it on my pinky finger. When I got back in the living room she asked me about a phone number she saw written on the back of a magazine, and within minutes we were arguing. Then I thought I would wait until I got the house and she moved in. Then I thought I would wait until things got a little better at the office. And then it was until we beat the cancer. Well, at the funeral, I kissed her on the forehead and placed the ring in the palm of her hand. Then Drew whispered, “I just guess we ran out of untils.”
“That was very nice of you. But I know for a fact that she loved you just as much as you loved her. Trust me, it was always fifty-fifty.”
Drew replied in monotone, “How do you know?”
“A woman can tell. I guess it’s female intuition. I saw you holding hands. I saw her wiping spaghetti sauce off your face when you all had dinner at my house. Remember that morning she took you to the airport and I happened to be there dropping Walt off for a business trip? I never told you this, but after you all kissed and you walked down the corridor to board the plane, she stood there and watched the airplane take off. We noticed her looking at her watch as if she would be late going to work, but she stood there and watched that plane until it disappeared with her face against the glass like a child. Like a part of her was in that plane. That was when we knew for sure it was love.”
Drew sat silent, turned up the radio, and then loosened the knot in his gold silk tie. He remembered that day and how it had hurt him so much to leave Felicia for just three days. Turning the radio down, he said, “When I checked into the hotel in Chicago, I sat at the desk in the room that night and I knew I was in too deep. Peggy, I never had a woman who could move me the way Felicia could. So I took out one of the hotel envelopes from my desk, removed the petals off the flowers in the suite, and put them in the envelope.” Drew rubbed his sweaty palm over the leather-wrapped gearshift and continued. “And then I took my spare house key from my briefcase and put it in the envelope with a yellow Post-it note that read, ‘To you I give the key to my heart.’ I mailed it that night, and when she opened the letter, she said she started crying at the mailbox. She liked that sort of stuff.”
“That was so sweet. You know, when you want, you can be a regular ole Casanova.”
“I don’t know about that. It was just something about her that brought out the best in me. Once I noticed her trying to apply her makeup and do her hair before we went to see Beloved, and I watched from the hallway as she got more and more frustrated because her hair was thinning. She never liked wearing makeup before the illness and was never comfortable applying it. I walked up behind her and said, ‘Felicia? Remember that song by Anita, “You Belong to Me”? Well you belong to me, baby. To me you’re beautiful. More so now than ever. So sho cares what anyone else thinks? Drew swallowed and continued, “I told her, ‘I love you for who you are.’ And I think I hurt her feelings, because she started to cry so much we never made it to the theater.”
Silence settled as Drew gathered his thoughts. “But the one moment together I will never forget, Peg, is when she was feeling weak from the chemo and the pain medication. When we initially spoke to her oncologist, he mentioned something they refer to in the medical industry as double effect. Basically it meant that you could take drugs for the pain and die faster or not take them and live longer in agony. We chose the former.”
After Drew said the words, once again in his soul he questioned whether the decision they’d made had been right. “Anyway, one day I went by her house to see her. Her skin was a little pasty and she looked tired, and her hair by this time had really started falling out. We sat in the backyard on a lawn chair and this cardinal flew over to her bird feeder. She looked at it with a bag of birdseed in her lap and said, ‘You know, Drew? God would not put it in that bird’s heart to fly south for the winter if it did not exist.’ So I said, ‘What?’ because by this time she would sometimes ramble, especially when she was weak and medicated. So she said it again. ‘God would not put it in that bird’s heart to fly south if it did not exist.’ And then about a half hour later she said, ‘Drew, you and I have made so many plans to be together, to have children, to have the type of love affair we both want. We have wanted this so badly.’ And then she closed her eyes, leaned her head into my chest, and said, ‘So God would not allow us to have these dreams if they were not out there for us, somewhere.’ By this point I was about to lose it and then she said, ‘I may not be there physically, Drew, but someway, somehow, we will find our south . . . together.’”
After a pause Peggy looked out her window, discretely wiped her lower eyelid, and said, “She was a special lady.”
After dropping Peggy at the dealership, Drew glanced at his watch and noticed he was already ten minutes late. As he came to a stoplight, he was ejecting a CD when he heard her voice. It was so clear and distinctive he thought Felicia was in the seat beside him. “Felicia?”
“Drew, I loved you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Drew’s chest felt full as he gazed forward and said, “Baby, I’m so sorry I never said good-bye. I owed you that much. I love you so much.”
“Drew,” the voice repeated, “I loved you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“Felicia? I miss you I . . . I . . . sometimes I can’t breathe it seems. It’s been ten weeks and I miss you just as much as I did the day you left. I try, but you’re still there. I close my eyes, and I can feel you.”
“Enjoy the moment, Drew. Just enjoy the moment.” And then as suddenly as the voice came, the light turned green and it went away.
The closest parking space to the front door was quite a distance away. The April sun bore down hot and Drew walked swiftly across the grass while trying his best not to sweat. Another glance at his watch showed that he was fifteen minutes late. As he stepped inside the overly air-conditioned building, he looked at the directory and caught the closing elevator before its doors met. Although he pressed four, the elevator lowered to the basement, and when the doors opened he saw a familiar face. It was Estella Neal. Felicia’s mother. While she and her daughter were never close, Drew had visited their home sev
eral times, and before she was always cordial. But on this day when Drew greeted her, she barely said a word.
As the elevator ascended, Drew adjusted his cuffs and straightened his tie, wanting to say something to her to break the tension but not knowing what exactly to say. He wanted to express in a delicate way, “Mrs. Neal, I loved your daughter and I know she loved me. She wanted me to have whatever is up there, but I’ll give it to you since she was your child.” That was what he wanted to say, but all he could get out as the doors opened was, “Well, I guess this is our floor.”
Drew saw those in the conference room smile as Estella walked in, and then they lost that expression as he entered behind her. A what-the-hell-is-he-doing-here look permeated the faces. Drew tilted his head with a smile to the family members he knew and sat close to the door behind the large oak table awaiting the attorney.
The lawyer’s paralegal walked into the room, did a silent head count, disappeared back into his office, and then the portly attorney walked out. His hair was salt and pepper and his complexion appeared yellowed. He placed the files at the head of the table, then said, “I am so glad you all could make it here today. First and foremost, as you know, Felicia Neal was not a wealthy person. I should say she was not a wealthy person in material possessions, but she was wealthy in her kindness toward others.”
And then he sat gingerly and said, “Let me first introduce myself. My name is Sid Rothstein. I met Felicia at our doctor’s office about two months before she passed. And yes, I have cancer as well. Although she was at an advanced stage, I always noticed her trying to keep up the spirits of the other patients. One day we sat down and I shared a sandwich with her and told her what I did for a living. She told me she wanted to put together a will, and I told her I would do it under one condition. That she allow me to do it pro bono. We met several times, and the last time we got together, I visited her at the hospital a week before she left us.” The rotund counselor closed his eyes briefly to conceal his pain as his assistant whispered something in his ear and took a piece of paper from him after a pat on the back for consolation.
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