The House on Hope Street

by Danielle Steel

  The service was beautiful and brief, the church was full, there were flowers everywhere, and afterwards it was all a blur to her. Jean and Carole had arranged for food at the house, and more than a hundred people came to eat and drink and tell her how sorry they were. And all Liz could think of was leaving him at the cemetery. She had left a single red rose on his casket for him, and then kissed the box, and walked away, holding Jamie’s hand with Peter’s arm around her. It was a moment of such blinding pain that she knew that never in her entire lifetime would she forget it.

  She moved like a robot throughout the day, and two hours after everyone left, her brother-in-law caught a flight to Washington, her brother to New York, Jack’s parents to Chicago. Victoria went home, but promised to drop by the next day, with the boys. Jean went home that night too, and her mother was leaving the next morning. And then she would be alone with her children, and have the rest of her life to live through without him.

  When the children went to bed that night, finally, Liz and her mother sat in the living room. The Christmas tree was still there, drooping as badly as she felt, and her mother had tears in her eyes as she patted Liz’s hand.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you.” She had lost her own husband, Liz’s father, ten years before, but he had been seventy-one and sick for a long time. She had had time to prepare for it, and her children had been grown and gone. It had been painful for her too, but nothing like this was for Liz, and she knew it. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, as tears slid down her cheeks and Liz’s once again. There was nothing else to say. They just sat in the living room and hugged each other for a long time, and for the first time since Jamie’s birth, Liz remembered that she loved her, and forgave her for the things she had said then. In a terrible way, this agonizing loss had brought them a kind of healing, and if nothing else, Liz was grateful for it.

  “Thanks, Mom. Can I make you a cup of tea?” she asked finally, and they went out to the kitchen together. And as they drank tea at the kitchen table, her mother asked her again if she was going to sell the house and Liz smiled. This time it didn’t bother her as much. It was just her mother’s way of saying she was worried about her and wanted to know if she’d be okay. She had finally figured out that she wanted Liz to reassure her.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but we’ll be fine.” They had put aside enough money over the years, and Jack had a healthy insurance policy. And of course she had the law practice to support them. Money wasn’t the issue now so much as learning to live without him. “I don’t want to make any big changes for the kids.”

  “Do you think you’ll remarry?” It was a silly question, but Liz smiled, thinking of what Victoria had said. “If China declares war on us …”

  “I don’t think so. I can’t imagine it, Mom.” And then tears filled her eyes again. “I don’t know how I’m going to live without him.”

  “You have to. For the children. They’re going to need you more than ever. Maybe you should take some time off from work, close the office for awhile.” But she couldn’t afford to take time off, and she knew it. Their entire caseload was now resting exclusively on her shoulders. Except for Amanda Parker. Just thinking of her made Liz ache for her children and what they had been through that day. They had lost both a mother and a father. She had called the house and spoken to Amanda’s sister that afternoon and told her how sorry she was. They had both cried, and the Parker family had sent her and the children flowers.

  “I can’t close the office, Mom. I have a responsibility to our clients.”

  “That’s too much burden for you, Liz.” Her mother cried as she said it. She had a heart after all. It was just the connection to her mouth that was so often foolish and faulty, but Liz suddenly understood something more about her. She meant well, she just didn’t know how to say it.

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  Liz shook her head. She’d just have to take care of her mother if she stayed, and she needed all her energy now for her children. “I’ll call if I need you. I promise.” The two women held hands across the kitchen table, and then went up to bed. Victoria called her late that night to see how she was, and she said she was fine, but neither of them believed it, and Liz lay in bed, wide awake, and crying most of the night, until six o’clock the next morning.

  Her mother left on schedule, and then she and the children were alone, roaming aimlessly around the house. Carole took everyone bowling that afternoon, and even Peter went, for once without his girlfriend. Liz stayed home to go through some of Jack’s papers, and everything was meticulously organized. She found his will easily, the insurance policy, everything was in order in his desk. There was no chaos to comb through, no bad surprises, nothing to worry her, except for the fact that he was gone and she was alone for the rest of her life. And as she thought of it, she felt the now familiar wave of panic wash over her, and she missed him more than she thought humanly possible. She cried all afternoon, and by the time the kids came home, she looked exhausted.

  Carole cooked dinner for them that night, hamburgers and french fries. They had thrown the turkey out, untouched, on Christmas night. No one wanted to look at it, let alone eat it. And by nine o’clock, the children were in their rooms, the girls watched a video, and later that night, Jamie woke up and climbed into bed with her, and it was comforting to have him there, warm and cozy beside her. Life stretched ahead of her like an endless empty strip of road now, with nothing but responsibilities and burdens, and things she would have to do alone.

  The next week crawled by, the kids were still home from school for the Christmas holiday. On Sunday they went to church. He had been gone for ten days by then. Ten days. Days, only hours and moments. It still felt like a nightmare. And on Monday morning, she got up and cooked them breakfast. Peter drove himself to school, and she took the girls to their school nearby, and then drove Jamie to his special school, but he hesitated for a long time before he got out of the car. And at last, he turned and looked up at his mother, as he clutched his lunch box. It was a new one that Rachel had given him for Christmas with Star Wars figures on it.

  “Do I have to tell them at school that Daddy died?” he asked, looking somber.

  “The teachers know. I called to tell them, and I think everybody read it in the newspaper, sweetheart. Just say you don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

  “Do they know a bad man shot him?”

  “I think so.” She had told the woman who ran the school that if he got upset and wanted to come home, they should call Carole, or Liz herself at the office. But like the other children, he seemed to be doing better than she’d expected. “If you need to call me at the office to talk to me, just tell your teacher, she’ll let you.”

  “Can I come home if I want to?” He looked worried.

  “Sure. But you might get pretty lonely. It might be more fun at school, with your friends. See how you feel after a while.” He nodded then, and opened the car door, hesitated for an instant and then turned to look back at her.

  “What if someone shoots you at the office, Mom?” His eyes were full of tears as he asked her, and she shook her head with tears in her own eyes.

  “That won’t happen, I promise.” She reached out and touched him gently as she said it. But how could she promise him that? How could she promise him that any of them would ever be safe again? How could she know? If something so terrible could happen to Jack, terrible things could happen to any of them, and now they all knew it, even Jamie. There were no guarantees anymore for long life or safety. “I’m going to be fine. And so will you. I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.” He nodded and got out of the car, and walked forlornly into school as she watched him with a bowling ball on her heart. She couldn’t help wondering if they would all feel like this forever, or for a very long time at least. It was hard to imagine feeling good again, or laughing, or making noise, or being loud, or feeling their hearts light. This seemed like a bu
rden they would carry with them forever, or at least she knew she would. They would get over it, or at least adjust to it. But they would never have another father, and she would never have Jack. Their loss was irreparable, even if their hearts repaired eventually, there would always be a hole there. And as she drove to the office, she was so blinded by tears and so worried about all of them, that she drove through two red lights and got pulled over by a policeman.

  “Did you see that light?” he barked at her as she rolled the window down, and she apologized through her tears. He looked at her long and hard as he took her driver’s license from her, started to walk away and then turned back. He had recognized the name, and had read about it in the papers. He looked at her with concern, as he gave her back her license. “You shouldn’t be driving. Where are you going?”

  “To work.” He nodded and met her eyes.

  “I’m sorry about your husband. Why don’t you follow me? What’s the address?” She gave it to him, and he got back in his car, turned on the flashing lights and pulled ahead of her, and escorted her all the way to their office, as she cried.

  It was almost worse when people were nice. But he had been incredibly decent to her. He got out as she parked the car, and then shook her hand. “Try not to drive for a while, or as little as possible. You could get in an accident, hurt someone, or yourself. Give it a little time.” He patted her arm, and she was still crying when she thanked him, and walked into her office, carrying Jack’s briefcase.

  She hadn’t been at the office since Jack died, and she was dreading the sight of it, but she knew Jean had been busy the week before. As usual, she had worked miracles. The bloodstained carpet had been replaced, the wall where Phillip Parker had shot himself had been repainted. There was no sign of the carnage that had taken place, and Jean smiled up at her as she walked in, and offered her a cup of coffee.

  “Was that a black and white I saw outside a minute ago?” Jean looked concerned, as Liz blew her nose and smiled at her. She wanted to thank her for all she’d done to clean things up, but she just couldn’t bring herself to say it. Jean understood without hearing the words, and handed her a steaming mug of black coffee.

  “I ran two red lights on the way here. He was very nice, and gave me an escort right to the door. He told me to stay off the roads.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Jean said, looking worried.

  “What do you suggest I do? Hire a limo? I’ve got to come to work.”

  “Take a cab,” Jean said sensibly.

  “That’s silly.”

  “Not as silly as killing yourself or someone else. Now, that’s silly.”

  “I’m okay,” Liz reassured her, but convinced no one.

  Jean had cancelled all the court appearances she could, save two which couldn’t be postponed, but they weren’t until later that week. Liz needed the time to go through all their files, and figure out what she was going to do about their clients. She dictated a letter to Jean that afternoon, explaining the circumstances of Jack’s death to all their active clients, although it was hard to believe anyone didn’t know. It had been all over the news during the Christmas weekend. But some might have been away, or missed it somehow. She explained that she’d be working as a sole practitioner now, and understood if people wanted to hire other attorneys to replace them. If not, she would be continuing with their work, and doing the best possible job for them. And to those who had sent her letters and flowers, she thanked them for their expressions of sympathy. The letter was direct and to the point, and both she and Jean suspected that most of their clients would stick with her. But that vote of confidence in itself was going to be an enormous burden to her. Despite what she had said to her mother the week before, she was beginning to wonder if she could do it. It was going to be hell doing it all alone. Overnight, it had more than doubled her workload. Not only did she have to handle his work as well as her own, but she had lost the moral support and the spark and the energy that he brought to her.

  “Think I can do it?” she asked Jean at the end of the afternoon, looking depressed and anxious. Everything seemed to take ten times as much effort, and she felt exhausted.

  “Of course you can.” Jean knew that Liz was every bit as good an attorney as Jack was. He had been the bluster and the balls and the bully in the partnership, if he had to be. But they had done a skillful dance together.

  But at that moment, without him, Liz felt like less than half the team. She felt as though he had taken her confidence and her courage with him, and said so to Jean. “You’ll be fine,” Jean said again. “And I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

  “I know you will, Jean. You already have.” She glanced at the brand-new carpeting and back at her secretary, as her eyes filled with tears and she remembered all too painfully how it had looked on Christmas morning. “Thank you,” she whispered, and went to sit in her husband’s office. She was still going through his files, and she had to force herself to leave at five-thirty. She didn’t want to come home too late for the kids, although she knew she could have stayed at the office till midnight every night for a month, and still not finished everything she wanted. She took his briefcase home with her, chock-full of files she wanted to read before morning. And she still had the two court appearances to prepare for.

  The house was silent when she got in, unusually so, she actually wondered if anyone was home, and then she saw Jamie sitting quietly with Carole in the kitchen. She had just made chocolate chip cookies for him, and he was at the kitchen table, eating one in total silence. He said not a word to anyone, not even to his mother as she walked in and smiled at him. “How was your day, sweetheart?” “Sad,” he said honestly. “My teacher cried when she said she was sorry about Daddy.” Liz nodded. She knew only too well now what that felt like. The delivery boy who brought her sandwich to the office for lunch had made her cry, as had the pharmacist when she stopped to refill a prescription, as had two people she’d run into on the street, as did everyone now. All they had to do was say they were sorry, and it nearly killed her. If they had kicked her in the shins, it would have been easier to deal with. And the avalanche of condolence letters that had come to the office broke her heart as she read them. And when she glanced at the kitchen counter, she saw another stack there. People meant well, but their eloquence and their expressions of sympathy were agony to live with.

  “How’s everyone else?” Liz asked Carole as she set down Jack’s briefcase.

  “Why are you carrying Daddy’s bag?” Jamie asked, as he ate another cookie.

  “I need to read some of his papers.” Jamie nodded, satisfied, and informed her that Rachel had been crying in her room, but Annie and Megan were on the phone, and Peter hadn’t come home yet.

  “He said he’d teach me how to ride my new bike, but he hasn’t,” Jamie said sadly. The bike had been all but forgotten.

  “Maybe he can do it tonight,” she said hopefully, but Jamie shook his head and put down a half-eaten cookie. Like her, and the others, he had no appetite.

  “I don’t want to ride my bike now.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, as she touched his silky hair and bent down to kiss him, as Peter walked in the kitchen door with a ravaged expression. “Hi, Peter.” She didn’t dare ask him how his day was, she could see it. The same way all of theirs had been. He looked as though he’d aged five years in the past week. It was a familiar feeling. But she felt a hundred years older than she had on Christmas Eve. She had barely eaten or slept in the past week, and she looked it.

  “I’ve got something to tell you, Mom.”

  “Why is it that I don’t get the feeling it’s good news?” she said with a sigh, as she sat down and picked up the rest of Jamie’s cookie. Her lunch had sat untouched all afternoon in her office.

  “I had an accident on the way home from school.”

  “Did you hurt anyone?” She looked calm, but she was numb, and her perspective had changed in the last week. Anything less than death was something she could l
ive with.

  “Just the car. I hit a parked car, and crumpled the front fender.”

  “Did you leave a note for the owner of the other car?” He nodded in answer.

  “It didn’t do anything to them, but I left a note anyway. I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I ran two red lights on the way to work this morning, if that makes you feel any better. The officer who stopped me said I shouldn’t be driving. Maybe you shouldn’t either, for a while.”

  “I can’t get anywhere if I don’t, Mom.”

  “I know, neither can I. We’ll just both have to be careful.” He drove an old Volvo station wagon that Jack had bought for him that year because it was safe and solid, and she was glad for it now. She drove a newer model of the same car, and Carole had her own car, an old Ford that she’d had for ten years and kept in mint condition. It got her where she wanted to go, and she picked the children up from school in it. There was Jack’s car now too, a new Lexus he had splurged on that year, but Liz didn’t have the heart to drive it herself or sell it. Maybe they’d just keep it. She couldn’t bear the thought of disposing of his things. She’d already spent several nights holding his clothes close to her, and smelling the familiar aftershave on them, as she stood in his closet. She couldn’t bear to part with any of his belongings, and had no intention of giving away anything. She still needed to keep his things near her. Several people had told her to get rid of everything as soon as possible, and she had thanked them for their concern, and had every intention of ignoring what they told her.