The Plan

by Kim Pritekel

  Josie nodded. “She figured it out when you girls were younger.”

  Eleanor let out an annoyed sigh. “I must be the thickest person on the planet.”

  Josie chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You two girls were raised in very different environments.”

  “So true. So tell me.”

  “Well,” Josie said with a sigh, getting comfortable in the decidedly uncomfortable hospital chair. “Davis met your mom first. I think we were all thirteen or so. See, I was always too busy out climbing trees, fishing, whatever. My brother,” she waved off the memory with a laugh, “was high and mighty inside. We were close, though, close enough that I actually began to get a little miffed at the time he spent with her. I honestly wondered if maybe she was his sweetheart, but nah, they just really hit it off. Anyway, so finally I met her, and that was it.” She snapped her fingers. “Like that, I was a goner.” She grinned, and Eleanor could easily see that lovestruck young girl in her smile.

  “Did Mama feel the same?” she asked softly.

  “She did. Don’t know why, but she did. So the three of us hung out together. If you were looking for one, just look for the other. If you were looking for the other, just look for the third.” She gave Eleanor a mischievous grin. “Finally, I got up the nerve to kiss her when we were fourteen. Never forget it.” She laughed. “Sorry. I doubt you want to hear about all that.”

  “No,” Eleanor said, surprisingly interested to hear about this side of her mother. It was almost like hearing about another person, two strangers she didn’t know. “Keep going.”

  “Well, needless to say, eventually Davis began dating girls, so he was off with them a lot, which left Emma and I together. We spent endless hours talking, giggling like fools.” She stopped, her mood turning serious. “When the fella your mom was supposed to marry was killed in the war,” she glanced up at Eleanor, “well, we thought that was it. Maybe we could be together forever after all. That was the plan, anyway.”

  “Best laid plans...” Eleanor murmured.

  “Ain’t that the truth? Anyhow, the night before she had to marry your father, I snuck into her bedroom at the house, and we, well, we spent the night together.”

  Eleanor felt the profound sadness coming off Josie in waves. “Was that your first time?”

  Josie nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Yup. That is, until Davis and Adalyn gave your mom the job cleaning the house. She brought you along, and together, we took care of you and Lysette.” Her smile was that of a proud mama bear. “For a time, we got to feel like it was our life, our children, you girls.” She gave Eleanor a loving smile as her thumb caressed the back of Emma’s hand. Eleanor wondered if she realized she was even doing that.

  “Ed really seemed to hate Davis and Adalyn a lot. Why?”

  “Because he suspected something was up. I think for a long time he thought Emma and Davis had something in the hopper, but then one day, he caught us.”

  Eleanor stared, her mouth hanging open. “Ed caught you and Mama?” she hissed. “As in, together?”

  Josie smiled. “We were only sitting together holding hands while Emma read to you girls who were half asleep in our laps. I’m sure we made quite the picture of a family. He erupted. After that, he got super religious and banished Emma from the house or anything to do with us. We continued to write letters for a while, but then they stopped. I’m guessing maybe he found that out, too.”

  “He’d never let us get the mail,” Eleanor said, remembering how adamant he was about that. “That son of a bitch.”

  “The day that bastard died was the day the world became a better place,” Josie said, her voice flat. She looked at Eleanor. “Sorry, honey. That wasn’t right to say in front of you.”

  “No, it was very right and very accurate. Good riddance. You know, independently, Mama and I dropped his name. She said she wanted no part of him, never had, and when I began my teaching career in Wichita, I was worried some colleague or student would find out about my past. So I dropped Landry and never looked back.” She smirked. “Ironically, it was a parent who found out who I was, anyway.”

  “Yes, but by Jim nosing around, he essentially brought you and Lysette back together, didn’t he?”

  She met Josie’s gaze, and after a moment, a slow smile spread across her lips. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Lysette let out a tired breath as she directed Scott to her street. They’d engaged in a bit of chitchat on the drive back from Colorado Springs, but Lysette was caught in her own concerned thoughts, and from the pensive body language of the man who sat next to her, she assumed he was worried, as well.

  “The one with the circular drive,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the car up to the house. “I was here for your Christmas party with Eleanor. We chatted,” he added with a boyish grin.

  She looked at him, surprised. Then, yes, she remembered. “Oh, lord,” she said, smiling at her own silliness. “Sorry. Yes, now I do remember.”

  Scott chuckled. “That’s okay. We may have talked about the weather, but we weren’t exactly properly introduced that night.”

  Still embarrassed by her behavior that night, she turned sheepish eyes on him, though she knew his comment was innocent. “No, we weren’t.” She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss to the cheek. “Thank you for the ride, and I want to tell you how sorry I am about what happened to you and Ronnie Washington. A lot of us here are pulling for you, Scott.”

  He met her gaze before nodding as he looked away. “Thank you.” He gave her a kind smile and his mother’s telephone number to call when she was ready to return to the hospital.

  Leaving Scott with a smile and a wave, Lysette heard his car continue on as she walked up the path to the front door of her home. The moment she pushed it open, she heard her kids arguing.

  “Stop it! Jimmy, give it back! I’m gonna tell Mom.”

  “Mom isn’t here, little squirt.” Jimmy grinned evilly, holding Bronte’s sandwich above his head so she couldn’t reach it. “You’re daddy’s little squirt.”

  Bronte, who had been jumping up trying to grab her after-school snack, stopped and looked at him, confusion in her eyes. “What does that even mean?”

  “Yeah, Jimmy,” Lysette said, standing in the archway to the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest and irritation in her eyes.

  The kitchen was an absolute disaster with peanut butter and jelly smeared on the counter and a thumbprint on the icebox door. Both jars were left open as was the bag of bread. The used knife—still slathered with peanut butter—was stuck to the wall.

  Arm frozen in the air, Jimmy whirled around, the classic busted look on his face. “Mom! You’re back.”

  “I’m glad you noticed.” She walked over to him, her gaze never leaving his as she reached up and snagged the sandwich out of his hand, tossing it to the plate on the table that held his half-eaten sandwich. “Snack time is over,” she declared, taking both plates and dumping the uneaten food into the trash and nearly tossing the plates into the sink. “Now you two get to clean this kitchen from top to bottom!” She glared at them both, two pairs of guilty eyes looking back at her. “I cannot believe this. I leave you alone for just over an hour, and this is what you do?”

  “We…uh…” Jimmy murmured, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, which bore the flush of the rest of his face. “We were going to have it cleaned up before you got home.”

  “You asked me for more freedom, James,” she said. “You’ve been asking me to leave you alone more and let you prove yourself to us.” She indicated the kitchen around them. “So I do, and this is what you do.” She looked at Bronte. “Is your homework done, Bronte? Did you get your outfit ready for your dance class tonight like I asked you to do?”

  “No, ma’am,” she whispered.

  Angry and disappointed, Lysette turned to leave the kitchen. “Twenty minutes!” she called over her shoulder. “This kitchen is spotless when I
return in twenty minutes!”

  Letting out a sigh of annoyance, she headed toward the stairs when she stopped, her focus on the front door when she heard a key in the lock. Confused, she walked across the living room to the door, unlocking and yanking it open to see an incredibly surprised Fran staring at her on the other side.

  “Can I help you?” Lysette asked, arms crossing over her chest once again.

  “Uh, I, uh…” Fran looked past Lysette for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “Jim told me to come over and grab a suit for him,” she explained. “Um…I was under the understanding nobody would be home now.”

  Lysette felt a bit of defensive territorialism wash over her as she stared at her soon-to-be ex-husband’s mistress, just the beginnings of her baby bump visible through the material of her cotton dress. “Why exactly would nobody be home?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm as her arms fell free only for a hand to rest on her hip. “My children are out of school, and I happen to live here.”

  Fran’s eyes widened, and her mouth worked like that of a fish out of water.

  Realizing her concern over Emma’s condition and frustration that she couldn’t be with Eleanor when she needed her—let alone the situations with her kids—was not this woman’s fault, she forced herself to calm and relax. Lysette still was angry with Jim for giving Fran a key to her house.

  “I’m sorry,” she managed, stepping back from the door. “Rough day. Come on, and I’ll show you.”

  “Mom, who’s here?” Jimmy stepped into the room, a dish towel slapped over his shoulder.

  Lysette glared at him, not saying a word as she pointed to the kitchen behind him. He glanced at Fran for a moment before turning and disappearing back where he’d come from.

  An awkward moment as any, Lysette led Fran up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom she’d shared with the very man who had impregnated the brunette.

  “Did he put you up to this?” Lysette glanced over her shoulder as they entered the large bedroom. Her voice wasn’t unkind, but it didn’t exactly scream besties, either.

  “He did. I’m really sorry.” Fran slowed her gait as she neared the bedroom doorway. She looked around, seeming incredibly uncomfortable. “I was assured I could get in and out without bothering you.”

  Lysette nodded with a sigh. “Sounds about right. He rarely knows what’s going on and assumes he does.” Nearly to Jim’s closet, she realized Fran wasn’t following her. She looked at her. “You can come in.” She would have been amused if the situation wasn’t so sad as the poor woman looked as though she were about to enter the Coliseum and was looking around to see which door the lions would enter through.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Fran murmured, stepping into the room.

  “Ma’am?” Lysette gasped. “I’m not that much older than you, darlin’.” She turned back to his closet and opened it. “Now,” she said, eyeing the woman who timidly made her way over to her. “I’m guessing he’s going to want his gray pinstripe.” She ran her fingers down the sleeve of the described suit jacket until her fingers reached the cuff, then she pulled it out into view. “He’s going into trial against D.A. Runsted, who he can’t stand, so he’s going to want to feel confident and powerful. This one and the red and black tie are what do it for him.” She let the sleeve drift back into the closet before she grabbed the hanger and pulled out the entire jacket, matching trousers already ironed and flipped over the second rung of the double hanger, and handed it to Fran.

  “Thank you,” Fran said, taking the clothing from Lysette.

  “If he ever asks for his ‘Superman suit,’ this is what he wants.”

  Fran smiled shyly. “That’s what he said, and I was so confused. I wasn’t sure if I’d go into his closet and find an actual superhero outfit.”

  Lysette threw her head back and laughed. She looked at the other woman who gave her a sheepish smile. “Oh, that was good.” Still chuckling, she gathered the rest of the pieces of the suit and a garment bag, loading it all in for easy transport.

  “Thank you,” Fran murmured, taking the heavy bag. She looked down at it, folded it over her arms for a moment before she looked up into Lysette’s eyes. “Listen,” she began. “I just want you to know that, though yes, I love Jim, I’ve never really been okay with how things happened between us. I didn’t know he was married or about Jimmy or Bronte when we first met, I swear.”

  Lysette looked down at the shorter woman, stung by her words, which she knew weren’t meant that way. She saw Fran was likely a young woman who got in over her head.

  “But by the time I found out,” she gave a one-shoulder shrug, “it was too late. I was in love with him.”

  “Yeah, I know how he works,” Lysette said with a smirk. “Believe me, I know. Listen, Fran, I’m in no position to judge you as a woman or to judge you and Jim as a couple. I guess all I can say to you is, if you intend to be the stay-at-home wife who takes care of your man,” she lowered her head while lifting her eyes, a playful mischief in them, “make him pick up his damn clothes off the floor. You’ll thank me for it later.”

  Fran went from pretty to stunning with the glow of her smile at those words. She seemed to break out of her fear and intimidation a bit, relief in her body language. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” She lifted her arms with the garment bag on them. “I better go.”

  Lysette walked her out, watching for a moment as the woman who was having a baby with the man she’d lived with for more than fifteen years hurried down the walk to her car. Her gut told her that Fran was a decent person, and that mattered because she’d be around her children.

  “Hey.”

  Lysette turned to see a contrite Jimmy walking up to her.

  “We’re done.”

  She looked at him and let out a breath. Her anger was obviously long gone from the antics of her kids, and the look of self-recrimination in her normally confident son’s eyes broke her heart.

  “Thank you, son,” she said, walking over to him and leaving a kiss on his cheek. “Come on, let’s go check it out.”

  “I’ve seen her here before,” Jimmy said as they walked to the kitchen. “That woman,” he clarified with a hitched thumb back toward the front door.

  “Here?” Lysette asked. When he nodded, she stopped him with a hand to his arm. “When?”

  He looked uncomfortable as he shifted his weight with the shuffle of his feet. “Remember last year when I had that really bad bloody nose? Aunt Josie had to come get me because you were down in Pueblo delivering the school supplies?”

  She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. Just after school started.”

  “Yeah. So we get here, and Aunt Josie dropped me off to get some stuff for my nose. We were surprised to see Dad’s car in the driveway, but anyway, when I went in, they were in your bedroom.”

  She stared at him, shocked and embarrassed. No, it wasn’t her; no, she’d never done that. But good god, what kind of people had she and Jim become? “What were they doing?”

  He shoved his hands into the hip pockets of his jeans and shrugged before bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I don’t know. The door was closed, but when Dad came out, he looked pretty surprised to see me. She came out a few minutes later, and they left.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, hurt.

  “Oh, right. ‘Uh, gosh, Mom, I kinda need to tell you about the chick that was in your bedroom with Dad today. Cool? Okay, gotta run!’” He glared at her.

  “I’m sorry.” She took him in a tight hug. “You’re right. That’s not your problem or your job. I’m sorry,” she said again, leaving a kiss to the side of his head. “Come on. Let’s check out that kitchen.”

  ****

  Lysette gently set the pillow with hand-stitched wisdom on it on the wing-backed chair she knew Aunt Josie loved to curl up in and read before returning to the bed and pulling down the quilt and folding it at the foot of the bed. She figured it would be too warm for it, especially with the two blankets and
sheet Josie used to sleep under. Josie always said she was half-reptile and got cold far too easily.

  She let out a tired sigh as she ran her hands through her hair, looking down at her nightgown, which had been tossed over the back of the chair. She reached up and began to unbutton her blouse when there was a knock at the door. It was late, and she knew the kids were in bed, or at least pretending to be asleep, and she’d already spoken with Aunt Josie and Eleanor on the phone. Both would remain at the hospital overnight, and she’d join them after dropping the kids off at school in the morning.

  “Come in, Jim,” she said, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough not to disturb Bronte and Jimmy.

  The door opened, and Jim peeked his head in, quickly glancing around the room before his gaze landed on her. “You’re alone in here?”

  “I am.” When he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, she went back to unbuttoning her blouse to ready for bed.

  “Why are you in here? Where’s Josie?” he asked, stepping just inside the room, hands on his hips. He looked tired, necktie pulled down and collar unbuttoned. From years of living with an attorney, Lysette knew the nights before a trial were long ones.

  “She’s at the hospital,” Lysette said simply, her blouse sliding off her shoulders, leaving her in bra and slacks.

  “What? Why? Is she okay?” He moved farther into the room to sit on the end of the bed.

  “Yes. She’s with Emma, Eleanor’s mother. She had a heart attack earlier today, and it was pretty serious. So I knew better than to try and drag Aunt Josie away,” she said with a small smile.

  He nodded, not asking for further elaboration. “So why are you in here then?”

  She let out a sigh, reaching over to tug the nightgown off the chair, and tossed it to the bed. She reached behind her to unclasp her bra, then slide the gown over her head. She didn’t want to have to get into this tonight, but she knew it was inevitable.

  “Why did you do that to Fran tonight?” she asked in lieu of a response to his question. She looked over at him. “That poor girl looked like she was about to have a damn coronary when I yanked open the door that she was trying to unlock.”