“I’m sorry,” she managed to say, even though she wasn’t.
“It’s okay. That’s why we came by. To be with you.” Nicole led her back to the table. “Try to eat a little more. I’ve got a load of laundry in and Shannon’s changing the sheets.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but we want to.” She sat across from her and squeezed her hand.
“You have lives, too.”
Nicole shrugged. Her blond ponytail moved with the gesture. “Sure, but you’re a part of that. I want to be here. I don’t know how to help, but I do know how to do laundry. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
Pam nodded. Her friend rose, hugged her again, then headed out of the kitchen. Pam reached for the pizza box, then pulled her hands away. In the distance she heard the chugging sound of the washer. On the TV some woman explained why the blazer she was selling was perfect for spring. Pam rested her arms on the table and her head on her hands. Then she breathed in the pain that was missing John and let it fill her until there was nothing else.
* * *
“It was brutal,” Shannon admitted, still stunned by Pam’s grief. “Her pain is a living being. There’s no escaping it. I’m not sure how she’s getting through the day.”
She sat on her sofa, her feet tucked under her. Adam was next to her, angled toward her. He held her hand in his.
“They were together a long time,” he said. “That’s really rough. My mom keeps talking about how she couldn’t survive losing my dad. That she would never be as strong as Pam.”
“That’s how I feel, too. But I’m sure that’s what Pam would have told everyone. We have no way of knowing what we’d do. I just wish I could help.”
“You were there for her. That means a lot.”
Shannon wasn’t so sure. “Nicole and I did stuff, but does it really matter that she had clean sheets? There’s still plenty of food. People brought it by and one of her friends arranged for groceries to be delivered for a few weeks.” She wrinkled her nose. “I got rid of the last of the flowers. They’d reached the point where they just smelled awful. I don’t know if she noticed, or if she didn’t want to let go of the reminders of the funeral.”
She didn’t have a lot of experience with this kind of suffering. She’d never known anyone close who had died.
“You did a good thing,” Adam pointed out. “Taking care of her. Your plan with Nicole is a good one. You’ll be there for her and make sure she heals.”
Shannon nodded. Assuming a person could heal from this sort of thing, she thought sadly. “She’s so raw. I never expected that. I hate to admit this, but it’s hard to be around her.” She bit her lower lip.
Adam shifted closer. “Don’t beat yourself up for being scared of all that emotion. It’s hard to watch someone grieve. You stayed with her. That’s what matters.”
“I hope so. I just can’t begin to imagine what it must be like.” She’d been through breakups before, but nothing like this. She supposed that part of it was that she’d never loved anyone for that long. She’d been hurt, but never devastated. No one had ever been her world.
“Was it like that for you when your marriage broke up?” she asked him.
Adam shook his head. “No. We were living separate lives. I was angry and upset, but I wasn’t grieving. Not the way she is. That’s the difference. While I never would have chosen to get a divorce, I was part of the problem. Pam’s the innocent party in what’s happening to her.”
She studied his face as he spoke, taking in the way his mouth moved and how he always looked at her when he talked. He was in the moment.
She’d seen him with his family. He was understanding with his parents and caring with his siblings. He adored his kids and did all he could to be the best dad possible. She loved him and for the first time in her life, she knew she could finally have it all. The dream—a career and a family. A man who loved her, kids, maybe even a dog.
“I’m turning forty soon,” she said slowly, because talking about her birthday was so much easier than saying what was really on her mind.
He grinned. “I know. That’s going to be some party.”
“I hope so, but it’s really not all that important. I have goals in my life. I’ve accomplished a lot of them. My career, where I live, the travel. But there’s a lot more to being happy than a job and money.”
His smile faded, as he nodded slowly. “You’re right. There is. There’s connecting with someone. Shannon, you’re important to me. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
They both paused as the weight of the moment hit her. They were getting in deep, she thought, and she was both excited and terrified. This was the place she’d mostly avoided because she’d never seen it working out before. She’d never thought she wanted to grow old with someone. Except for Adam. She’d met his dad, had watched his parents interact, and she wanted that, too.
The thought of being a stepparent scared her. Oliver was easy, but Char was more of a challenge. Not that he was proposing, but what if he did? Did she want to say yes?
She cleared her throat. “You’re important to me, too.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Now we’re both dancing around the elephant in the room. It’s too soon to take this to the next logical step, but I want you to know I’m thinking about it. A lot. You’re so special to me. I love you and I respect you. I need you to tell me if you’re thinking the same thing.”
Something of a challenge, she thought as butterflies dive-bombed her stomach, considering they weren’t saying what it was. They’d both said they loved each other, which meant the elephant was very possibly getting married.
“I hope we are,” she murmured, shyness making her wanting to duck her head. She forced herself to keep meeting his gaze. “I want to be with you. I want us to be a family.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “I want that, too. I’m glad you feel the same way.”
In for a penny, she thought ruefully. “I want to have a baby.”
Adam pulled back so quickly, she thought he might snap a bone. The warmth in his eyes faded and his mouth twisted into a not-happy expression. “You mean get pregnant?”
The question sounded a lot like an accusation. Shannon quickly folded her arms across her chest and tucked herself more firmly into the corner of the sofa.
Something an awful lot like shame chilled her. She told herself she’d done nothing wrong. She was being honest and if Adam couldn’t handle that, then maybe she was all wrong about him.
She raised her chin. “Getting pregnant is the traditional way to have a child, so yes.”
“Shannon, I can’t. I’ve had a vasectomy. I thought you knew.”
Seventeen
Pam hung on to Lulu as if the small dog were the only thing keeping her safe in an otherwise not-to-be-trusted world. At Steven’s insistence, she’d made her way to the office to meet with him and the company’s lawyer. Not anything she wanted to deal with, but she’d recognized her son’s stubborn tone. He’d said if it was too much for her to deal with, he and the lawyer would come to her. Which seemed like a generous offer, but it meant that Pam wasn’t in control. If she went there, she got to decide when to leave.
But now that she was in the building that she and John had bought together so many years ago, now that she had to face the polite yet sad smiles of his employees, she knew it had been a mistake. There was no way she could get through whatever conversation St
even wanted to have without screaming. And if she started to scream, he would guess she wasn’t as together as she pretended.
Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, she thought as Steven fussed with his fancy Keurig coffeemaker and brewed her a cup. Maybe someone should lock her up in a mental ward somewhere. As long as they drugged her, she wouldn’t mind. Oblivion sounded really nice these days. She didn’t want to have to think, didn’t want to have to feel. Didn’t want to deal with anything.
“I’d take you with me,” she whispered to Lulu, not wanting the dog to think she was being left behind.
Steven handed her a tall mug with the company logo. Pam did her best to keep her fingers from trembling. She remembered when she and John had chosen the mugs. They had gotten so many samples, they’d ended up having a dessert and coffee party with their friends. Everyone had taken away a sample mug with them. There’d been a lot of trading between guests for colors and sizes. They’d had so much fun that night.
Her eyes burned with the familiar pressure of tears. She drew in a breath and reminded herself that when she got home later, she would be alone. She could curl up in John’s chair and do nothing but breathe. There would be no expectations, no conversations.
Steven got his own coffee and sat down at his desk. She studied his face, taking in the shadows under his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. The physical manifestations of his grief reminded her she wasn’t the only one suffering.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Okay. Tired. Sad.” Steven cleared his throat. “It’s hard to be here every day without him.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Of course it is. I have my ghosts at the house, but you have as many here.”
He nodded. “Everything is exactly the same and totally different.” He glanced toward the closed office door and lowered his voice. “I called that counselor you mentioned. The one you and Dad saw when Brandon was having his trouble.”
She nodded. “I gave her name to a friend of mine, too. She’s getting a lot of business from me these days. Did it help?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think it would, but talking about what happened was good. I know it’s going to take time to get that he’s really gone. He was a good man.”
Pam nodded and told herself they were talking about someone other than her John. If she could convince herself the conversation wasn’t personal, she could survive this. She could fake her way through the meeting and then escape. That was what she had to focus on. Being not here.
“You remember Ashleigh from high school?” he asked.
Pam sipped her coffee and tried to recall the name. “She was your girlfriend. A sweet girl. You broke up with her because she wouldn’t sleep with you.”
“Mom!”
Pam shrugged. “Did I get it wrong?”
He flushed. “You weren’t supposed to know that.”
“I was your mother. You didn’t have any secrets from me. I always respected her for not putting out. Why do you mention her?”
“We ran in to each other the other day. She’s back in Mischief Bay. She’s a nurse at the hospital. Pediatrics. She looked good. Still sweet, you know.”
“You mean not your type?”
“Exactly.”
He flashed her a grin that was so like John’s. Pain sliced through her. She instinctively pressed her hand to her stomach to hold in whatever blood she could. Only there wasn’t a visible wound. Just the kind that only mattered to her.
“We’re going out this weekend. I don’t know. It’s just when I was talking to her I kept thinking how much Dad would have liked her.”
Pam thought about pointing out that was a silly reason to date someone. But maybe losing his father would help Steven mature when it came to his romantic life. She thought about saying that, but exhaustion descended and the conversation would require more than she had.
“It’s getting late,” she said, putting her mug on the table. “I should go.”
“Mom, we haven’t talked about the money yet,” her son said gently. “It’s why I asked you to come by. Jason is going to meet us here in a few minutes.”
She stared at him blankly.
“Jason is our lawyer,” Steven added.
Because there were complications with the business. Finances. “Can’t you handle it?” she asked. “Do I have to be here?”
“You do.”
Someone knocked on the door, then opened it. Hayley smiled at her. “Hi, Pam.”
Pam did her best to smile back.
“Jason’s here,” Hayley told Steven.
A tall man with blond hair and blue eyes walked into the office. Pam clutched Lulu and tried to remember if she’d met him before, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort. So what if she had or hadn’t?
He was probably in his forties. She vaguely recalled something about working with his father, before he retired.
Jason sat next to her. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Pam. John was a great man. I always admired him for his business sense and how he loved his family. I hope in time you’ll find comfort in knowing how respected and admired he was in the community.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, telling herself than in ten minutes she was leaving, no matter what. Or she would start rocking and keening and they could lock her up and get the good drugs going in an IV.
“I’m not sure how familiar you are with the business structure of the company,” Jason continued. “While you and John owned the majority of it, you also set up profit sharing and employee ownership.”
Pam bit hard on her lower lip, trying to distract herself from her need to sob. Because sharing the good times with those who had worked for him for years had been important to John. He’d been so proud to be able to provide a way for his employees to have a stake in their own future.
“The corporation had something called a key man insurance policy,” Jason continued. “In the event that something happened to John, the corporation received the proceeds from the policy. That money is to be used to buy you, Jennifer and Brandon out of the company.”
“I don’t understand,” she admitted.
Steven cleared his throat. His eyes had a sheen, as if he, too, were holding back tears. “You know Dad always talked about leaving me the business.”
She nodded. “Of course. You’re the only one who was interested. Your father was so happy when you said you wanted to work with him.”
“Yeah. I remember.” Her son swallowed hard. “He, ah, wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of. The key man policy does that. Dad leaves me the company in his will and the insurance money buys everyone else out. Jen and Brandon have a chunk of cash to put away and you’re taken care of for the rest of your life.”
“And you’re not saddled with a lot of debt as you run things here,” Pam whispered, then gave in to the inevitable and let the tears free. They ran down her cheeks, almost certainly smudging the bit of makeup she’d managed to slap on.
Someone pushed a box of tissues into her hand. She grabbed a couple and wiped her face. No doubt she looked hideous, but who cared? Lulu licked her chin and watched her with worried eyes.
“He took care of everyone,” she said, her voice thick with pain. “Even after he’s gone, he’s taking care of everyone. He was such a good man.”
She clutched Lulu and let the shuddering sobs wash through her. She could feel the two men watching her, clearly worried about her emotional state, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
&n
bsp; “He loved you so much, Mom. The way he talked about you. There was something in his voice.”
She raised her head. “What are you talking about?”
Her normally totally cool son actually blushed. “I don’t know,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “It didn’t matter what the subject was. When he said your name he got this tone. Love, I guess. I can’t describe it but I heard it all the time. We all heard it. That’s why I haven’t been serious about anyone. I want to wait until I hear that in my voice, too. I want what you and Dad had. I want to be that in love after thirty years.”
He got up and came around the desk, then crouched in front of her. His arm encircled her. For a second she wondered if she could pretend he was John, but there was no way. No one could fill in. No one could make up for what had been lost. What she had lost.
She knew the only way to get out of here was to survive the rest of the meeting. She gathered what little strength she had left and raised her head.
“Thank you for telling me that,” she said and forced a smile. “It helps a lot.”
“I’m glad.”
He rose and returned to his seat.
Jason glanced between them. “Your share of the proceeds is substantial, Mrs. Eiland. Do you have a financial advisor?”
She nodded.
“I know who he is,” Steven said. “I’ll call him later today and let him know what’s happening. If that’s okay with you, Mom.”
“Thank you. I don’t want to deal with any of it right now. Just do what you have to. I won’t make any rash decisions.” Or any decisions at all, she thought.
Steven watched her carefully. “You know, Mom, he really wanted you to join that angel fund you were talking about. You still could.”
She gathered her bag and Lulu and stood. The alternative was to blurt out the truth. The alternative was to tell him that there was no way she ever wanted to do anything again. She was barely hanging on. Couldn’t anyone see that? Didn’t they know how every moment, every breath, was an effort? That just living took everything she had? She barely had the strength to eat or shower, let alone leave the house.
The Girls of Mischief Bay Page 21
