Once Upon a Project

by Bettye Griffin

  The organ music seemed louder in the front of the church. A rich-looking mahogany casket was on a stand just opposite where Elyse sat, flanked by Todd and Brontë. A black hat with a large brim obscured much of Elyse’s face.

  Grace’s eyes automatically went to the casket. She stood in front of it for a moment and gazed down at Franklin. His face looked thinner than she remembered and older than his sixty-three years, but didn’t look particularly weathered. She wondered if the funeral director had puffed it up somehow, like he’d clearly done to Franklin’s chest.

  She bowed her head and said a prayer, then gracefully turned to Elyse.

  What could she possibly say to comfort a woman who’d just lost her husband of twenty-six years?

  Susan waited for Grace and Pat to finish viewing Franklin’s casket. She considered going over to Elyse while the others prayed with bowed heads, but felt she should pay her respects to Franklin first, so she merely waited. She could tell from the redness of Elyse’s eyes that she’d been crying. “This is going to be difficult,” she said to Ricky.

  “I know. I never know the right thing to say to people at a time like this.”

  After Pat and Grace turned to Elyse, Susan and Ricky took their places in front of the casket. Susan bowed her head and said a prayer. She opened her eyes and looked at Ricky, whose eyes were closed and whose lips were moving. She turned to face him as he crossed himself, and her eyes went to the man waiting to the left.

  It was Charles.

  She swallowed, then quickly looked away. What the devil was Charles doing here? She thought he’d have been among those attending only the wake last night.

  The answer came to her just as quickly. The schools were closed for the holiday break. She’d had to engage a sitter to stay with Quentin and Alyssa.

  She hadn’t seen him since their last ill-fated meeting downtown last summer, but he crept into her thoughts often, especially at night.

  Charles had probably decided to come to the service rather than the wake because he knew she’d be here. She didn’t know if he wanted to try to convince her to renew their affair, or if he wanted to make the break official and tell her no hard feelings. No doubt he expected she’d be alone. The fact that Bruce was here complicated matters for both of them. What was she going to do? How could she act naturally with Bruce when Charles was so near?

  Ricky, unaware that his friend from the old neighborhood stood just a few feet away, took her arm, and together they went to speak to Elyse.

  Elyse’s face was wet with tears, and Susan’s heart broke for her. Brontë, too, had obviously been crying, while Todd tried to be stoic and move into his place as the man of the family. Also in the front pew sat Elyse’s stepdaughter and her stepson and his family. Pat and Grace had moved back a few pews to converse with Elyse’s parents, the Hugheses.

  As Susan feared, Charles caught up with Ricky, who invited him to sit with them for the service. Her spirits dipped. How was she supposed to introduce her lover to her husband?

  Pat said good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, having assured them that she would do what she could to comfort Elyse in making the difficult adjustment from wife to widow. She then headed for the pew where Andy waited, looking straight ahead and smiling when he saw her approaching.

  “Pat!”

  She stopped at the stage whisper, knowing who had spoken. Her mother moved to the end of the pew, her father right behind her.

  “Hi Mama, Daddy. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “We arrived just a minute ago. We saw you up front.” Moses’s eyes darted around the room, probably trying to pick out which of the numerous white men present was Andy.

  “Where are you sitting?” Cleotha asked.

  “Andy and I are near the back, with Susan and Grace and their . . . companions. Ricky is here, too, with his wife.” Just a few months ago having Ricky show up with his wife on his arm would have devastated her. Funny what love could do for a person. Sure, the sight of Miranda Suárez’s swollen abdomen made her heart wrench a bit. She would have loved to have had children. She knew her time for that had passed. Soon she’d be getting those hot flashes Grace complained about. But she had no feelings for Ricky, other than goodwill. She hoped he would always be happy.

  “I’m surprised. I figured he’d be working the lunch rush,” Moses remarked.

  “Daddy, Ricky owns Nirvana. I’m sure he has a manager working for him to handle the more mundane aspects of day-to-day business.” She deliberately glanced toward the front. The organ music had suddenly gotten louder, and the minister had appeared and was speaking with Elyse. “It looks like they’re about to start. I’ll see you outside after the service.” She punctuated her statement with a little wave and quickly headed back to Andy, knowing that both of their gazes followed.

  Susan stopped to say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell. It appeared the service would begin at any moment, and she hoped to delay her return to Bruce until she could introduce him to Charles or, better yet, let Ricky do it. She watched as Ricky passed the pew with no more than a polite nod to the people who were so against his marrying their daughter. Charles did the same. He, along with nearly everyone else who lived in Dreiser at the time, knew how the Maxwells had interfered in Ricky’s relationship with Pat. Naturally, Charles didn’t want to put his friend on the spot.

  Susan and Bruce had done little exchanging of their romantic histories before they married—she hadn’t even told him that she’d once been Douglas Valentine’s girl—so he would have no idea that Charles was a former boyfriend, much less suspect that many of her “errands” were spent in his arms. Still, she’d prefer for Ricky to introduce him, so it would appear as if he were no more than a friend from their old neighborhood.

  And she prayed that nothing in Charles’s expression would make Bruce suspicious.

  Grace found, to her surprise, that she was shedding real tears during the service, but it was quite moving. Franklin Jr. addressed the congregation with fond memories of his father, telling everyone how Franklin taught him the ways of a man. His sister, Rebecca, while not quite as composed as her older brother, managed to share her own memories of being a “daddy’s girl.” For Grace, it brought back memories of her own parents, who loved her and wanted the best for her. She still remembered how difficult it had been to tell them she was pregnant, how disappointed they’d been. Her father hadn’t lived to see her success, just like Franklin wouldn’t see whatever Brontë did with her life.

  A sob caught in her throat, and Glenn put a comforting arm around her, encouraging her to rest her head on his shoulder.

  Suddenly she was very glad to have him here with her, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Pat had Andy and Susan had Bruce.

  Outside the church, the mourners formed little pockets of people. Bruce stood with Ricky’s wife and watched as Susan, along with Pat, Grace, Ricky, and that other guy, Charles, exchanged words with an older couple he presumed were Elyse’s parents.

  “I guess they know a lot of people here,” Miranda Suárez remarked.

  “I do feel a little like a Johnny-come-lately. Hey, it looks like congratulations are in order,” Bruce said, noticing her swollen belly for the first time.

  “Thank you,” she said, patting her midsection. “I’m due Valentine’s Day. We’re having a little girl. Ricky’s glad about that. He says he’s too old to get out and play ball with a son.”

  “Is this your first?”

  “My first,” Miranda answered. “Ricky has a sixteen-year-old daughter.” She smiled as Ricky joined them. “I was just talking about you.”

  “Whatever she told you, Bruce, it’s not true,” Ricky said with a laugh.

  Miranda playfully slapped his arm. Then she sighed. “I can’t believe this. I actually have to use the restroom again, or I’ll never make it home. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here,” Ricky said with a loving smile.

  Her departure gave Bruce an opportunity to indulge his cur
iosity. He knew that Ricky was the same age as Susan; they’d gone through school together. And Miranda was about Shay’s age. “I give you a lot of credit, Ricky, for starting over at this point in your life. I’ve always been curious about men who become fathers late in life.”

  Ricky shrugged. “Between you and me, Bruce, I would have been content if it was Miranda and me from now on. But she wanted a child. I’ve heard of men who marry younger women and get their wives to sign contracts promising not to have kids, and don’t think I didn’t consider it. But I couldn’t clear it with my conscience. My daughter has brought a lot of joy to my life. I didn’t feel it was fair to Miranda to ask her not to have children just because my daughter is almost grown and I’m old enough to be a grandfather.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” Bruce nodded, thinking of Shay.

  “I’m fourteen years older than she is,” Ricky continued. “I’ll probably die before her, and even if she’s taken care of financially she’d still be alone.”

  Bruce swallowed. He’d never thought about that....

  “So we agreed to have just one.” Ricky grinned. “Come on, I know you and Susan aren’t thinking about having another baby.”

  “No, of course not.” He laughed to cover his nervousness. “I’m just starting to notice a lot of older men with younger wives and small children . . . And I wonder how they really feel about fatherhood past fifty. I didn’t mean to get into your business.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I don’t believe in telling my business. We’re just talking, that’s all.”

  Bruce observed Susan and her girlfriends, plus Charles, talking among themselves. “Did you know Franklin well?”

  “I never even met him. But Elyse is my girl. We’ve been friends all our lives. Pat Maxwell put together a network of e-mail addresses and current phone numbers of people from the old neighborhood. She said that a lot of people who used to live in the projects came last night to pay their respects.”

  “I’m sure that was a big comfort to Elyse. Are you and Miranda going to the cemetery?”

  “No, I’m going to bring Miranda home, change, and head up to Waukegan. I’m opening another restaurant up there.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, in about two more months. I took over the lease on an Arby’s that closed. It’s a change of pace for me. My place on the South Side is a luncheonette, even though we expanded a couple of years ago. My place downtown is upscale. This is a sit-down, casual restaurant, like McDonald’s.”

  “Why Waukegan?”

  “Demographics. The city is nearly half Hispanic.”

  “That’s not too far from Susan and me.”

  “In that case, take one of my cards. And think of me the next time you’ve got a hankering for Mexican food.”

  Susan tried not to look nervous as she talked with Grace and Pat. Bruce was talking to Glenn, who, along with Andy, had stopped to speak with someone he knew from the courthouse. She began to feel hopeful. Maybe she and Bruce could get out of here without Bruce and Charles having any contact at all.

  “Poor Elyse, she’s just heartbroken,” Grace said. “I feel for the kids, too. I’ve never had a spouse die on me, but I do know how it feels to lose your father.”

  “She handled the funeral better than I thought she would,” Pat said. “She was very upset at the wake last night, and Franklin’s son told me she broke down when they went to view the body the first time. We should probably make a special effort to spend time with her,” she suggested. “I think she really needs us now.”

  “I’m surprised I didn’t see Kevin Nash here,” Susan remarked. “I know Elyse has been in touch with him since Franklin’s been ill. They had lunch a few times. Kevin helped provide a man’s perspective on illness for her. She found him a great help.”

  Pat and Grace exchanged glances. “He’s here,” Pat said. “He came in late and sat in the back. Oh. Here come my parents. I know my father wants to meet Andy. Excuse me.”

  Susan and Grace looked on as Pat tapped Andy on the shoulder and led him over to where her parents stood. “This should be interesting,” Grace whispered. “Do you suppose Mr. Maxwell will try to punch Andy out?”

  “That’s silly, Grace. The man is probably seventy-five years old. He’s not punching anybody out. But what’s going on with Kevin that I don’t know about?”

  Grace filled her in on how Elyse showed up at Pat and Andy’s party Thanksgiving night with Kevin, telling them that Franklin had gone too far in his cruelty and she’d walked out. “Elyse never said what happened with them after they left Andy’s house, but she and Franklin made up right afterward, I think.”

  “She probably just brought him home, went home herself, and Franklin apologized. He had to know he’d crossed the line, and I’ll bet he got the scare of his life when Elyse left the house and didn’t come back for hours.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  Glenn rejoined Grace. “They’re bringing out the casket now,” he said, nodding toward the church entrance. “I guess we’d better get in the car so we can be part of the procession.”

  “All right. See you guys later, huh?”

  “Okay, Grace.” Susan’s mouth felt dry. She turned to Charles. “I guess I’d better get going myself.”

  “Susan, I—”

  She spoke in a low voice. “Don’t, Charles. My husband is standing three feet away, and I’m sure he’s watching.”

  “I didn’t think he’d be here.”

  “I know you didn’t. He was worried about me. Franklin died of cancer, and he knows me well enough to know my fears.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m still cancer-free.”

  He let out his breath audibly, telling Susan he’d been holding it.

  “Will you be going back to Elyse’s?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Bruce said something about going in to work.”

  Charles’s eyes looked in Bruce’s direction. “Here he comes. Get him to drop you at Elyse’s. I’ll make sure you get home. I have to talk to you.” Then he walked off.

  “Everyone’s getting in their cars, Susan,” Bruce said. “I think they’re giving out dashboard signs for the procession.”

  “Yes, let’s go.” Bruce followed her as she stopped to embrace Ricky and to say good-bye to Miranda—and then to Charles, who by that time was nearby, looking away as Bruce shook Charles’s hand.

  Pat breathed a lot easier now that the meeting she’d so dreaded had finally taken place. Andy had been more charming than ever, and of course he’d already won over her mother. Her father, at least, was on his best behavior, if guarded. Pat feared he would refuse to shake Andy’s hand.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell, did you know Franklin?” Andy asked politely.

  “No, but Elyse is one of Pat’s very best friends,” Cleotha said. “I can’t believe that she’s been widowed so young.”

  “Very sad,” Andy agreed.

  “Moses and I also know Elyse’s parents very well. We didn’t have much of an opportunity to speak with them here, but I suppose we’ll see them at the house.”

  “It looks like they’ll be heading for the cemetery any minute now,” Andy said as the pallbearers carried the casket outside. “Why don’t you two ride with us? We’ll be happy to bring you back here to pick up your car afterward.”

  Pat watched her mother look at her father uncertainly. “It really doesn’t make sense for us to drive all the way to Lake Forest and back if Pat and Andy are going, too, does it, Moses?”

  Pat turned a stricken gaze on Andy. What the hell was he doing, inviting her parents to ride with them? She struggled to come up with something to say, some reason why his suggestion wouldn’t work. But she could think of nothing.

  Moses gave a reluctant nod of approval, and they began walking toward the Jaguar, Pat and Andy leading the way. Andy unlocked the doors with his remote control. “Mr. Maxwell, you might be more comfortable if you sit behind Pat,” he suggested.
“My seat is pushed back farther because of my legs, but Pat’s shorter than I am.”

  “All right,” Moses said in gruff agreement, not sounding the least bit gracious.

  When Andy opened the door for Cleotha to get in, Moses quickly moved to open Pat’s door and do the same. She tried not to laugh out loud at this competition her father had allowed himself to get into. For much of her early life her father didn’t own a car, and while he always unlocked Cleotha’s door first, she’d never known him to actually seat her.

  “What a lovely vehicle,” Cleotha said when they were all inside. “I’ve never ridden in one of these before. Isn’t this nice, Moses?”

  Pat strained her ears, not wanting to miss her father’s reply. Then she realized he hadn’t made one.

  She sighed. It was going to be a long drive.

  At the cemetery, Cleotha pulled Pat aside and made one last comment. “Don’t be fooled. Your daddy is impressed with Andy. I think he’s in shock because Andy is so polite and respectful. He’s really going out of his way to be charming.”

  Pat beamed more broadly than was appropriate, considering a burial service was about to commence. Could it be that her father could be won over?

  At the Reavis’s home, Pat and her mother were speaking with Mrs. Hughes when, out of the corner of her eye, Pat saw her father approach Andy at the buffet table and say something to him. Then the two men disappeared. She fought back a wild urge to follow them. She’d warned Andy about her father, so she was confident Andy could handle him.

  She turned to see Kevin Nash looking around the house with an awestruck expression on his face. She felt like she’d been transported to an old movie where a thief or rapist “cases the joint” or checks out the lady of the house before returning to rob it blind or to attack the woman. She closed her eyes for a moment as she chuckled. Her imagination was in full play this afternoon.