by Jana DeLeon
“Wonderful,” Ida Belle said. “Please tell me you got a picture before you went deck diving?”
I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t even considered that all that might have been for nothing.
“Of course I did,” Gertie said. “I had it on that rapid thing, you know, where I get a bunch of pictures at one time.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “Why in the world did you bring that fancy camera with you? It’s too complicated.”
“We needed the zoom lens,” Gertie said. “The phone camera wouldn’t have taken as good a picture.”
“Uh-huh,” Ida belle said. “I suppose if the pictures are in focus, we might be in business.”
“I had the camera on the autofocus setting,” Gertie said.
A ray of hope beamed in. If we weren’t relying on Gertie’s sketchy vision for focus, then the pictures might be usable.
“Great,” Ida Belle said as she climbed out of the car. “If you had your glasses on when you selected the autofocus feature, we might be in business.”
Crap.
* * *
Marie looked tired, but happy to see us. She said Nolan was taking a shower—the downstairs bathroom was equipped for him to manage by himself—and should be out soon. A lady from the insurance company, whose associate had left a message the day before, would be there in fifteen minutes for an appointment. Marie had managed to get Nolan to eat eggs and toast around 10:00 a.m. but suggested we start pushing lunch on him after the insurance lady left. Half of Gertie’s casserole from the day before remained, and the ladies of Sinful had dropped off a collection of other items.
“It’s like a buffet exploded in there,” Marie said. “You should be able to entice him with something. I apologize that I haven’t had time to organize it all. As soon as I got one woman out the door, it seemed another showed up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gertie said. “We’ll get it all organized and make sure he eats.”
“And don’t rush back,” Ida Belle said. “You’re exhausted and need some rest yourself. Take a hot soak in the tub and a long nap. We’ve got all day.”
“You’re sure?” Marie asked. “I don’t want to interfere with your schedules.”
I held in a laugh. Since our “schedules” only included figuring out who killed Gail and why, and Nolan and this house were the only leads we had, the only thing interfering with our schedules at the moment was Marie and police tape.
“We don’t have anything scheduled,” Ida Belle insisted. “Please take your time.”
“Thanks,” Marie said, looking relieved. “Emmaline is going to come by tonight after I return. I feel guilty and hate admitting it but I’ll like having the company. It’s hard to know what to say. I don’t usually have trouble with grief, but…”
“This situation is hardly an ordinary one,” Ida Belle said.
“Get going,” Gertie said. “We’ll go organize the kitchen. If we run out of things to do, we’ll find some trouble to get into.”
Marie laughed. “If only that weren’t true. I’ll see you guys later.”
She headed out the front door and we trailed into the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway and stared. Marie hadn’t been joking. The countertops and kitchen table were covered with dishes, plates, and pans, all filled with yummy food. At least, all the scents hitting my nose smelled yummy.
“Wow,” I said. “Is this normal?”
“Of course,” Gertie said. “You never want grieving people to worry about things like food. And if it’s all sitting here in front of them, they’ll remember to eat and have plenty of choices.”
“How long does this go on?” I asked.
“Everyone usually makes sure the family has a weeks’ worth of food,” Ida Belle said. “In Nolan’s case, people will probably drop stuff by for a bit longer.”
“Because he’s disabled?” I asked.
Gertie shook her head. “Because he’s a man.”
“That’s a disability,” Ida Belle pointed out.
I grinned. “Well, I think it’s a very nice thing for people to do. So how do we arrange it?”
“First,” Gertie said, “we need to sort it by refrigeration required and not. Then we can group by entrées versus sides and desserts. You take the kitchen table and Ida Belle and I will start on each end of the cabinets. Set anything that goes in the refrigerator to one side.”
I stepped over to the kitchen table and started lifting lids and foil, dividing the offerings up. My mouth began watering about two dishes into the task. The food was way better-looking than any buffet I’d ever seen, and every time I opened something up, the rich aroma of Southern cooking wafted up. At least we didn’t have to worry about Nolan getting in enough calories. A couple bites of any of this should get him a meal count’s worth easily.
We were shifting the last of the desserts to the far end of the counter when Nolan wheeled into the kitchen. His color looked a little better than the day before but the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t diminished. He gave us a weak hello and we all said good morning.
“Would you like anything to eat?” Gertie asked.
“No, thanks,” Nolan said. “Marie made me breakfast.”
“What about something to drink?” Gertie said. “There’s a container of fresh-squeezed pineapple juice in the refrigerator.”
“That sounds nice,” he said. “Thank you for coming to check on me. I’m worried that Marie is wearing herself out.”
“We told her to take as long as she needs,” Ida Belle said.
“Good,” Nolan said. “I don’t want her to collapse before she gets that mayor position.” He forced a small smile and Gertie placed a glass of pineapple juice in front of him on the now-cleared table.
As he picked up the glass, the doorbell rang and he started a bit, sloshing some of the juice onto his hand. Ida Belle reached for a paper towel and I headed for the front door, hoping it was the insurance lady and not someone else bearing food that required refrigeration. The fridge was overflowing a bit. I opened the door and gave the woman a once-over.
Forty-ish. Five foot six. A hundred thirty pounds. Good general muscle tone. Corrective vision and boring suit. No threat and definitely the insurance lady.
“Please come in,” I said and stepped back so that she could come inside. I pointed to the hallway. “Nolan is in the kitchen.”
“Thank you,” she said and repositioned a folder under her arm as she headed down the hallway for the kitchen. I trailed behind her.
“I’m Francesca Rossi with Southern Life and Property,” she said and extended her hand to Nolan. He shook it, all the time giving her a curious look. I checked her out again, thinking maybe I’d missed something, but didn’t see anything odd the second time around either.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” Ida Belle said.
“Actually,” Nolan said, “I’d like for you to stay, if you don’t mind. My concentration isn’t what it used to be, so it would help having someone else to remember things.”
Francesca nodded. “It’s always a good idea, when things are…difficult, to have someone you trust assist you with things. That being said, what I’m here to tell you is very straightforward and shouldn’t take much of your time. Shall we get started?”
Nolan nodded and waved his hand at the table. We all took seats and Francesca pulled a set of papers out of the folder she’d been carrying.
“This is a copy of the life insurance policy Gail had with our company, and here is my business card. All I need from you is a copy of the death certificate, when you receive it, and I can process the claim.”
Nolan picked up the papers and frowned. “I don’t understand. I never signed anything for life insurance.”
“Gail took out the policy on herself,” Francesca explained, “and your signature wasn’t necessary as the beneficiary.” She pursed her lips, then continued, “I’d hoped Gail would tell you about the policy, but I guess that’s not the case.”
Nolan shook his
head, still staring at the document. “She never said anything.”
“I apologize for my associate who telephoned yesterday,” Francesca said, looking slightly annoyed. “He should have consulted with me before calling you. I wanted to convey the information in person, in case Gail had decided against telling you.”
“That’s okay,” Nolan said, then his eyes widened and he stiffened. “A million dollars! Good Lord! That can’t be right.”
“That’s the amount of the policy,” Francesca said, “and I assure you, it’s correct. I talked with Gail and processed the application myself. She was adamant that if something happened to her, you wouldn’t have to worry about the future.”
Nolan’s eyes reddened and he sniffed. “She wanted me to be able to live independently.”
Francesca nodded. “Although so many of the facilities designed to assist people in your situation are extraordinarily nice, Gail knew that you preferred your own space. She wanted to make sure that if anything happened, your independence wasn’t jeopardized.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Nolan said. “It’s so overwhelming. I had no idea that she’d done this, but then it doesn’t surprise me, either. Gail always put my needs before her own. She was a wonderful woman.”
He teared up again and Francesca put her hand on his arm. “She was indeed a wonderful woman, and she’ll be missed in New Orleans. Unless you have any more questions for me, I’m going to get out of your way.”
“I don’t think I have any questions,” Nolan said. “Can you guys think of anything?” He looked at the three of us.
“It seems very straightforward,” Ida Belle said.
Francesca rose from the table. “If you think of anything later on, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
Nolan nodded. “Thank you.”
As Francesca started out of the kitchen, I jumped up and headed out behind her, figuring I’d see her to the front door. That was a Southern hospitality thing, right? That was my excuse, anyway. The real reason I wanted out of the kitchen is because crying made me uncomfortable, especially now that I’d discovered it myself.
When she stepped out onto the porch, Francesca turned and shook my hand. “I didn’t get your name…”
“Everyone calls me Fortune,” I said.
She smiled. “That’s a nice nickname. I didn’t want to say this to Nolan as he seemed a bit ragged, but if he needs any assistance finding a medical aide or would like to transfer to a facility while he’s thinking over his options, I am happy to assist with that. I have a lot of connections and can recommend the best of just about anything in that field.”
“Thanks,” I said. “When he’s a little more settled, I’ll let him know.”
“Great. Call me if you need anything.” She headed down the steps and hopped into a silver Honda Accord.
I went back inside, hoping that Nolan had processed this new set of information and was feeling better.
Apparently, Gertie had persuaded Nolan to eat something, because she was placing a pan in the oven and had a glass bowl in the microwave. I noticed she had a dishrag tied around her ankle. Nolan sat staring at the insurance documents, still looking a bit stunned.
Ida Belle sat at the table, looking at Nolan and wearing a slight frown. I wondered what she was thinking.
“Well,” I said, eager to break the silence in the kitchen, “that was unexpected good news, right?”
“Very good news,” Gertie said.
Nolan shook his head. “I’m still trying to take it all in. So much has happened…”
“Don’t worry about trying to process it all,” Gertie said. “Just take one day and one task at a time. That’s the easiest way to get through difficult times.”
“I know you’re right,” Nolan said, still staring down at the table. “After my accident, I tried to rush everything—tried to do too much with too little—and ended up setting myself back both physically and mentally instead of moving forward. It was a hard lesson to learn, especially when it meant admitting that I couldn’t take care of myself without help and might never be able to.”
He looked up us. “My first wife left me after the accident. She tried, but my future was nothing like the life we had planned. We were outdoors people from California. Camping, hiking, white-water rafting, rock climbing…anything that was outside and required a lot of physical exertion, we were up for it. If she’d remained with me, all of that would have been sacrificed.”
“That may be true,” Gertie said, “but you were her husband. Her partner in life.”
Nolan nodded. “Oh, I resented her at first. The whole ‘in sickness and in health’ thing, but I eventually came to realize it was for the best. If someone stays for any reason other than they want to be there, it will only lead to resentment. And then what do you have?”
“Two miserable people,” Ida Belle said.
“Exactly,” Nolan agreed. “I was very depressed at first, but as I learned how to do things and my upper body strength improved, I started to realize how lucky I was to still be alive. And then one day, I woke up and I didn’t think about how much easier things would be if I could walk. I think it was that day that I began to feel content. Not quite happy, at least not yet, but content.”
Nolan’s words resonated with me. The comment about sacrificing one’s desire leading to resentment hit home when it came to Carter. He’d returned to Sinful to get away from the very thing I made a living doing. But the contentment comment registered even more. When I’d first come to Sinful, I was definitely miserable, but as I slowly adapted to my new environment and all the new experiences that came along with it, I realized that not only was it not so bad, but that I actually immensely enjoyed parts of it. Without Sinful, I’d have never met Ida Belle and Gertie, and now I couldn’t imagine my life without them in it.
“I think what keeps us mired in the past,” I said, “is the constant dwelling on what we can no longer do, especially if those things that are now unavailable to us were important. Even more so if our livelihood depended on it. Finances are never a small concern, and then so many people’s identity is firmly wrapped up in what they do.”
Nolan’s eyes widened. “I think you’ve made an excellent summation of the problem. Have you known someone who dealt with these type of issues?”
“Oh, well.” I scrambled for a cover story, then finally decided that a version of the truth was probably the easiest. “I’m a librarian back home and a couple of our regular clients were men who had been injured during their military service. When they first returned home and were adjusting to the life they would now have to live, I could see their anger and frustration. I felt bad for them because if someone took away everything that made me who I am, I would feel the same way.”
“But eventually they adjusted?” Nolan asked.
I nodded. “Some quicker than others, but eventually, they all found their new niche. I daresay that in some ways it will never be as good as their old one, but in other ways, it might be even better.”
“At first,” Nolan said, “my biggest fear was that I’d spend the rest of my life alone, but I think that was mostly wrapped up in the fear of being unable to manage by myself. Once I realized how much I was capable of, and that with a little assistance, I could still have an independent life, that fear went away. I was often lonely, but I was no longer scared.”
“And then you met Gail,” I said.
He nodded. “I had given up the thought of a romantic relationship. Who would want to take on the limitations and difficulties I came with?”
“Someone who could see what you had to offer,” Gertie said.
“I think Gail saw in me things I didn’t see in myself,” Nolan said. “I couldn’t believe my good fortune.” His expression shifted from longing to sad. “I think I always knew it couldn’t last.”
I looked over at Ida Belle, who was studying Nolan. She’d been oddly silent during the entire exchange, but now she cleared her throat. “That seems a strange
thing to say,” Ida Belle said. “Since I can’t imagine that you were expecting her to pass away, I assume you had other reasons for thinking things might end?”
I stiffened. So that’s what she’d been waiting for—the lead-in to see if Nolan would discuss the affair that may or may not have happened. Gertie put down the bowl she’d been stirring and looked at Nolan. I realized I was holding my breath.
Nolan looked down at the table again, then slowly back up at Ida Belle. “You’re very perceptive. I’d heard that about you. I suppose I could make up some story to pass off but you probably wouldn’t buy it, or I could simply tell you it was none of your business, which would be true. But the reality is, I spoke to Carter about it this morning, so I figure it’s all going to come out eventually.”
“What’s going to come out?” Ida Belle asked.
“Gail was having an affair,” Nolan said simply.
“Not Gail,” Gertie said, doing her best dramatic shocked look. “I can’t believe it.”
“I wish it weren’t true,” Nolan said.
“Do you know…” Gertie asked. “I mean…”
“Who it was?” Nolan asked. “Yes and no. It wasn’t the normal sort of affair. It was all online.”
I looked over at Ida Belle and could see she was as surprised as I was. We were both doing an excellent job holding it in. Gertie didn’t even try. Her jaw dropped and she stared at Nolan, clearly shocked. His announcement was the last thing we’d expected to hear.
“Facebook, I suppose,” Ida Belle said. “I read an article about how social media was breaking up marriages. People were locating their high school flames and leaving their spouses for them. The entire thing is rather depressing.”
Nolan nodded. “I hadn’t realized that kind of thing was going on. I’m afraid I’m not well versed on popular culture. But one night she left her laptop open and I was going to check the weather before going to bed. I saw the messages between the two of them.”
“Was it someone from her past?” Ida Belle asked.
Nolan frowned. “I don’t think so. At least, none of the messages reflected on the past. The man was, uh, a bit younger than Gail, and was in the military, currently serving overseas. So you see why I say it wasn’t a traditional sort of affair. I would have never believed that a person could develop feelings by simply talking online, but apparently I was wrong. The messages were quite explicit about the way they felt.”
