The Game of Denial

by Brenda Adcock

  CHARMAINE PAUSED OUTSIDE the kitchen. She thought she'd heard what sounded like someone crying, but the sound stopped. She was furious at her mother. She wasn't really living a life anymore. Since they had lost Martine, Joan hadn't been the same person Charmaine remembered from her childhood.

  On the pre-dawn drive into town to pick up Ron, Anita, and Meme, Charmaine had tried to get her mother to open up, which worked about as well as it usually did. Once Joan Carmichael made a decision, it rarely changed. When she couldn't stand the silence anymore, Charmaine finally asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

  "About what, dear?"

  "The reason you're running away."

  "I'm not running away," Joan said with what would have passed for a laugh to anyone except Charmaine. "I told you I have business I need to deal with in New York. The sooner I address it, the sooner it will go away."

  "I'm not too bright sometimes, Mom, but even I know bullshit when I hear it."

  "It's nothing. I'll be fine as soon as I can get home and spend a few blessedly quiet hours alone. You know I hate large crowds. They make me feel claustrophobic after a time." Joan looked at Charmaine and smiled. "Besides, you only have to endure Meme during the drive to the airport. I, however, will be a prisoner at twenty-five thousand feet, forced to endure her sharp tongue, all the way to Omaha. I'll send Karina back for Brad and Fran tomorrow morning and the rest of you as soon as possible, not later than the following morning."

  "Better disconnect the house phone and turn off your cell," Charmaine advised. "You know Meg will be burning up the lines trying to get in touch with you."

  "I'll stay in Omaha for a few hours to let the flight crew rest before flying home this evening."

  "What should I tell the others?"

  "That business called and I answered...as I always do," Joan said as she watched the dark sky make its first attempts to lighten.

  AS USUAL, JOAN waited until everyone else was on board the company's private jet before handing Charmaine an envelope to give to Evey and making her way up the stairs.

  "Ms. Carmichael," Karina said. "We weren't expecting you on board until tomorrow afternoon."

  "A change of plans. We'll remain in Omaha three or four hours, if I can stand it that long. Then I'll fly to New York this evening. Tomorrow you'll return to Virginia for the happy couple and then return again for the remainder of the family."

  "We could fly them all to the Caribbean and drop off Fran and her husband. Then we could continue on to New York from there. It would save a little time and gas."

  Joan nodded. "I'll send a text to Charmaine."

  "How was the wedding?" Karina asked as she pulled the stairs up and folded them into the bulkhead.

  "It was lovely, but hectic. I'll be glad to be in my own bed tonight." Unfortunately I'll be in it alone as usual, she thought.

  "We'll be lifting off in about fifteen minutes," Karina informed Joan.

  Joan made her way to her favorite seat located in front of the left engine and strapped on her seat belt. "Everyone ready?" she asked.

  Joan looked out the window next to her seat and watched as the plane banked away from the airport. As the plane climbed, the lush, forested area receded. She closed her eyes until she felt the plane level off as it reached its cruising altitude.

  "Would you care for something to drink, Ms. Carmichael?" the flight attendant asked softly.

  "Water, please."

  "That was a lovely wedding," Luella finally said, breaking the silence.

  "Yes, it was," Joan agreed.

  "Mrs. Chase is a nice woman, don't you think?" Luella asked.

  "Yes, very charming and hospitable," Joan answered.

  "Not the bumpkin I had imagined. Quite a pleasant woman. What happened to her husband again?"

  "He was killed in a riding accident about twenty years ago," Joan said.

  "And she hasn't remarried? What a waste," Luella commented, shaking her head.

  "She had children to raise. I suppose she wasn't concerned about her personal life at the time."

  "It's not too late. She's still relatively young. How old is she?"

  "Forty-nine, I think," Joan said as she reclined her seat and slipped her shoes off. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Ron and Anita hadn't wasted any time falling asleep.

  The flight attendant set a cup of coffee on the table next to Luella and gave Joan a bottle of water.

  Luella sipped from her cup before speaking again. "So how long are you planning to grace Omaha with your presence, Joan?"

  "Only a few hours. I won't be there long enough to contaminate the city."

  Luella cackled. "Too damn late for that. Your people have positively taken over the city what with the university and all."

  "They're not my people, Mother," Joan sighed. "I thought I might stop by and see Pop while I was there."

  Luella seemed to beam at that announcement. "Oh, he would like that." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "You always were the apple of his eye."

  Joan smiled at the memory of her father. "I know and I was crazy about him, too. I wanted to grow up and be just like him."

  "Hmm. He liked the ladies, too. Had to keep my eye on him all the time to make sure I was the only lady who put that twinkle in his eye."

  "Well, there you go then," Joan said.

  "He was a sentimental old fool sometimes," Luella said, but when Joan looked at her mother she could see the sadness for her loss in her eyes. It was something she had never noticed before. Perhaps her mother missed the man who had shared her bed as much as Joan missed sharing hers with Martine.

  "Byron!" Luella called out suddenly and loudly, startling Joan for a moment.

  "Jesus, Ma," Joan said. "They probably heard that in Omaha."

  Ron had been dozing and Anita had been resting her head on his shoulder. He gently moved Anita's head and readjusted his pants as he moved forward in the cabin.

  "Need something, Mom?" he asked as he ran his hand over his face to bring his body fully awake. He looked at Joan and shrugged. "Must be the time change or something," he offered as an excuse for falling asleep.

  "Sit down, son," Luella said.

  He waved at the flight attendant and asked for a bottle of water as he settled in the chair next to Luella. "What's up?"

  "I've decided that I'm ready to leave the board of directors of Carmichael Industries. It's taken much longer than I had hoped, but I think it will be safe in your hands now. I'll send a letter to the remaining board members recommending you as Chairman of the Board and Chief Executive Officer of Carmichael Industries tomorrow. With my fifty-one percent of the stock in the company, I don't foresee a problem. I'll ask that it become effective the first of January." She glanced over her shoulder at Anita. "Anita seems to be reliable and trustworthy. I expect the two of you will be married before too much longer. In fact, although my memory may be wrong, you've been with Anita longer than you were with either of your previous wives. You haven't knocked her up yet and she seems to have a steadying influence on you and comes from good stock. We should make arrangements for me to meet her parents soon."

  Ron stared at Luella with his mouth open as his eyes shifted back and forth between his mother and his sister.

  "Well, say something, you dolt," Luella said.

  Ron jumped up and flung his arms around his mother, hugging her tightly. He turned to Joan and wrapped his arms around her as well. "Thank you," he whispered.

  "Don't thank me. I'm as shocked as you are," Joan whispered back. "You might want to tell Anita though."

  Ron hurried back to his seat and kissed Anita until she woke up and told her the good news.

  Joan and Luella read and chatted amiably the remainder of the flight. When Joan looked out the window she could easily see the flat, rolling plains of the Midwest and wasn't surprised when the flight attendant told them they would be landing in Omaha in about thirty minutes.

  Luella's driver was waiting at the airport to take her home. Luella
asked that she and Joan be driven to the family cemetery so Joan could pay her respects to her father. All of the plots were covered by plush green grass. Luella paid the gardener who maintained the grounds at her home to maintain the grave site. The double granite headstone had already been prepared and Luella's name and birth date were carved into it, awaiting only the final date. Joan squatted down and brushed freshly cut grass from her father's footstone before pressing her fingertips to her lips and touching the rectangular stone once again. She took Luella's elbow and they walked slowly among the graves of many of Joan's ancestors. Luella commented on each person. Some she liked and some she didn't and hadn't mourned their passing. They sat on a bench under the shade of an old tree and Luella inhaled deeply.

  "You can never really leave home, you know," Luella said, looking around. "It's always inside you, Joan. Never forget your roots and make sure the children know them as well. That way our family lives on, if only through stories."

  In a move she never thought she'd do, Joan wrapped an arm around Luella's shoulders and hugged her. There were still issues that remained between them, but it was a beginning. The sun was starting to set when Luella's driver returned to the airport.

  Joan leaned inside and embraced Luella again and, as she turned toward the plane, wondered if it would be the last time.

  She trotted up the steps and smiled at Karina. "Home, James," she quipped as she walked to her seat and belted in while Karina started the engines and prepared for the journey to New York. Joan wiggled out of the jacket of her suit and draped it across the seat back next to her. She leaned her head on the head rest and placed the book she was reading on her lap. As the asphalt of the runway sped beneath her and the plane left the ground, Joan wondered what everyone was doing in Virginia. No, she only wondered what Evey Chase was doing. She pictured her smiling, lightly freckled face, the way her eyes seemed to light from within when she looked at you. A shiver ran down Joan's arm and she rubbed it at the thought of Evey's hand touching her to get her attention and show her something she thought was extraordinary. Joan remembered the way the sunlight struck Evey's hair and created a glow that surrounded her head. Joan had done the right thing by leaving early. It was sheer folly to pursue a straight woman and could only end in disaster. Despite her appalling lapse in judgment the night before, their relationship would remain a polite, family-style friendship that most in-laws had. There could be nothing more.

  Chapter Seventeen

  NOTHING SEEMED THE same with Joan gone and Evey was uncharacteristically quiet as she went about her usual chores around the farm. She suddenly craved being alone. Gerard and Claudine drove out mid-morning to spend some time with Joan's children before they all departed. Beth was leaving as they arrived. She would reach her home in Richmond in time to grab a nap before she had to work the night shift that night. Evey packed enough food to hold Beth over for a few days and promised she'd drive to Richmond for a visit soon.

  Evey disappeared from the house after lunch. Gerard found her in the stables, saddling a tall, sleek-looking horse. While she finished saddling him Gerard ran his hand over the neck and withers of the majestic animal.

  "This is the one who balks?" he asked.

  "This is him. Jericho," Evey answered as she tightened the cinch.

  "You're taking him out?"

  "What with the wedding and all, we haven't been exercising any of the horses the way we should," Evey said. "Can you give me a leg up?"

  "Oui," Gerard answered as he stepped to the side of the horse. The usually friendly Evey was now brusque when she spoke and didn't smile. "May I ride with you?" he asked.

  "Of course. I'd enjoy the company," Evey said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Ralph! Saddle Jackson for Mr. Lefebvre."

  "I can do it," Gerard said. "Where do you keep your tack?"

  "In the fourth door down on your right. There should be an extra pair of chaps in there, too," Evey called out. "You'll need them."

  Fifteen minutes later, Gerard swung into the saddle and let Jackson walk around to get a feel for the animal. "This is a very nice mount," Gerard said.

  "He's gentle, but reliable. He used to be the best jumper in the stable," Evey said.

  "What happened to him?"

  "He got older and his times began to drop."

  Gerard used his knees to lead the horse through a couple of simple dressage moves and smiled. "You could easily retrain him for dressage in the arena. Older animals seem to prefer it," Gerard said.

  "We've always specialized in training jumpers," Evey said. "I don't know more than the basics for dressage."

  "But we are never too old to learn something new. Are we, my big friend?" Gerard said as he patted Jackson's neck soundly. He looked at Evey. "Just because we have never attempted something does not mean we would not enjoy it. Being afraid is the biggest obstacle to overcome." He swept his arm to the side. "Lead the way."

  They began going through the course at a leisurely pace, unconcerned with the time they took. Jericho was anxious to be turned loose, but Evey held him back as much as she could as they followed Gerard on Jackson. Evey smiled as she watched Gerard. He was extremely graceful and Jackson seemed to enjoy the more leisurely pace. Gerard looked back and watched as Evey took Jericho easily over a tall obstacle with a lower hedge on each side. The horse left plenty of air between his belly and the top of the obstacle. Evey reined to a stop next to Gerard to allow the horses to gather themselves before they moved to the next jump. Gerard leaned over and patted Jericho. "He is a very big jumper," Gerard said. "He cleared the height on the last obstacle by more than a foot."

  "The water obstacle is coming up soon," Evey said as she readjusted her helmet.

  "Would you allow me to ride your horse?" Gerard asked.

  "Jericho isn't mine. Only Tully and I are insured to ride him."

  "I understand, but may I make a suggestion?"

  "Of course."

  "At the pace we are going, which admittedly is quite slow, allow me to go over the obstacle first. Stay close enough that Jericho sees us clear the jump and then take him into it. He has been following Jackson well so far."

  "He used to take the water obstacles without a problem. The balking began recently."

  "Hmm. Something must have caused it. Perhaps he simply needs a reminder."

  Evey nodded. Gerard began moving toward a wooded area near a narrow creek. He could plainly see the obstacle as he approached. It was a standard log jump that fell away into the creek. Because of the moisture and humidity from the creek the path leading to the obstacle was slick. Gerard urged Jackson forward and they sailed over the logs and dropped into the shallow stream. As soon as Jackson climbed to the far bank Gerard stopped him in time to see Evey, low in the saddle and her head near Jericho's neck, easily clearing the logs and landing safely in the water. She reined him to a stop next to Gerard and patted the horse, praising him. "That's the first time I haven't been in the water since his owner brought him back because of the balking."

  "I might suggest letting him follow another, more experienced horse for a few jumps to remind him what it's supposed to be like."

  "I will. It will certainly save my clothing. Thank you, Gerard," she said as she brought Jericho closer to Gerard and leaned over to hug him.

  "We should get back before Tucker and the others leave," Gerard said. "They will certainly want to see you before then."

  Joan didn't. Evey frowned.

  Chapter Eighteen

  CHARMAINE DROPPED HER shoulder purse and messenger bag on her desk Tuesday morning and prepared a cup of coffee on the small personal Keurig machine on her credenza. After pausing to enjoy the rush of fresh coffee, she dug around in her purse and pulled out a small Nikon digital camera. Carrying her coffee mug and the camera she stopped at her secretary's desk to let her know where she'd be and answered a few questions about Fran's wedding, promising to show the older woman pictures of the ceremony after she had prints made. She continued down t
he carpeted main corridor, nodding to harried-looking junior associates. She turned down a short corridor off the main area. Joan's office was somewhat isolated from the other offices. The small waiting room was furnished simply, but a large window made it seem light and airy, feminine.

  "She in, Helen?" Charmaine asked as she stepped up to Joan's secretary's desk.

  The chicly dressed, middle-aged woman rolled her eyes and looked at Charmaine. "Oh, yeah. She was here when I came in," the secretary said. "Already handed me a list a mile long of things to do, all of which must be done today."

  "What time was that?" Charmaine asked.

  "I had to pick up the page proofs and have them on her desk by eight, so I came in early, about seven. She was already at her desk marking up layouts." Helen shook her head. "She was a little annoyed that the proofs weren't already there."

  "That is early, even for her."

  "I don't know what happened at your sister's wedding, but Ms. Carmichael has been on a tear today. No one expected her back in the office until tomorrow."

  "She's not used to being away from work so long," Charmaine said as she reached down to soothingly pat Helen's hand.

  "She's been gone longer and I've never seen her so hyperactive before." Helen shook her head. "What did they put in the food down there anyway?"

  Charmaine opened the door quietly and stuck her head inside. Joan was at her desk facing the window that overlooked Broadway. She was speaking to someone in rapid French and seemed agitated. Charmaine slid into a chair to the side of Joan's desk and propped her feet on the coffee table in front of it. When Joan disconnected from her overseas phone call with what sounded like a threat to fire whoever was on the other end of the line she spun her chair around.

  "Good morning, Charmaine," Joan said without looking up. "I'm surprised to see you so early today."