“I owe you big so call in this favor whenever you want and I’ll make good,” she told Brooke. “But, for the record, I’ve been working on the car and dorms. Mom isn’t budging. Yet.”
“You’re the best, Aunt Karan.” Brooke gave her a hug that melted away so much of the turmoil.
But not the nausea.
“I’m going upstairs to find my mom,” Gabby said. “Nice meeting you, Aunt Karan.”
Aunt Karan. Frankie would faint. “You, too, Gabby. If I don’t see you before you’re off to college, good luck. Remember to have lots of fun and make the most of every opportunity.”
“Will do, thanks.” She turned to Brooke. “Text you later.”
Then she headed for the elevators while Brooke led Karan to the administrative offices, where Susanna took one look at her and said, “You might be breathing, but are you sure you’re all right, Karan? You’re white as a ghost.”
She could only nod. The walk into the office seemed to have sapped all her strength. Motion sickness from riding in the backseat of the car?
Her legs felt like jelly underneath her, so she braced herself against the desk, looked around for a chair. The simple act of turning her head made dizziness swell up like a tide. Her heart thumped sickeningly as she found a chair and staggered like a drunk toward it.
Susanna caught her arm and guided her. “What’s wrong?”
Karan couldn’t seem stop shaking. “Bet you’re sorry you picked up the phone.”
Susanna stared at her with a frown. Brooke looked worried and Karan was beyond embarrassed.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Brooke, please do me a favor,” Susanna said. “Run into the dining room and grab a carton of orange juice from the fridge. They’re in there. Just look around.”
“Got it.” Brooke vanished.
“I’ve lost my mind.”
“People tend to do that when they’re upset,” Susanna said drily.
Her teeth were chattering so hard now. “Going to be sick.”
“No, you’re not. Just put your head between your legs and the feeling will pass.”
Susanna stood beside her and tucked Karan’s hair behind her ear. “How long since you last ate?”
“Lunch.”
She frowned but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say. Karan knew better. Susanna knew Karan knew better. One more indicator she’d been out of her mind about Charles.
“I should have jumped in the lake.”
“Please. You probably only felt like jumping because your sugar was dropping. Mood swings, remember?”
“Ugh.” Karan cradled her head in her hands and tried to stave off the nausea. She would never be able to live with herself if she vomited in Susanna’s place of business.
Not even she was that selfish.
Brooke returned with the orange juice, which Karan sipped gingerly. But her goddaughter didn’t want to hang around and watch the carnage.
“Mom,” she said. “I’m starving. I saw cereal.”
Susanna waved her off. “Go on. There’s fruit, too. Bring an apple and a banana for Aunt Karan when you’re done.”
Brooke took off again, and Susanna dragged another chair in front of Karan. “Put your feet up. Any better? Your color’s coming back.”
“Mmm-hmm. Thanks.” She rested her head back and let her eyes drift shut.
She must have dozed because the next thing she knew she was opening her eyes to find Susanna behind her desk, frowning at the computer display.
“Thanks.” She tested her voice with a whisper.
Susanna glanced up with a smile. “Feeling better?”
“Much.” She rose to her feet, stretched. She saw fruit piled neatly on a napkin on the corner of the desk, grabbed the banana. “I’m such an idiot.”
“It happens. Glad you feel better. I’ve still got half an hour before Jerry gets here for the night shift. You good?”
Karan spread her hands. “I’m at your mercy. Slumber party tonight, do you mind?”
“Of course not. And I even have leftovers from last night. Skip’s mom’s pot roast with the little onions. We can nibble and get some protein in you.” She eyed Karan with an assessing look. “How much better do you feel?”
She swallowed a bite of banana. “Much.”
“Then let me give you something to do. You asked me to bring you into work one day so you could talk to Francesca about that event for New Hope. And I’m happy to, but it so happens that she’s in her office right now. You can go set up a time.”
“Francesca? Oh, that’s right. I forgot you two were the best of friends nowadays.” Karan peeled the banana skin with deliberation and admitted, “Well, I didn’t actually forget. I blocked it out.”
Susanna scowled. “I would hardly say we’re best friends. That would be Brooke and Gabby. But Francesca and I do have a good working relationship. Throw Jack into the mix—”
“Please don’t, thank you. So what’s she doing here at this time of night? Checking up on her duty manager?”
“Don’t be mean. Her grandmother lives here, you know that. She wanted to save Brooke from making an unnecessary trip to drop Gabrielle off at home, so she waited. Of course Gabrielle wanted to run upstairs and visit, too, so Francesca’s in her office doing what everyone around here does—work. Go. It’s the perfect opportunity to set up an appointment. You’ll break the ice and it’ll be so much less tense when you do talk business.”
Karan sighed. No arguing the logic. Susanna hadn’t come out and said she still had work to finish up, but Karan could tell she didn’t need any more distractions. Dropping the peel into a trash bin, she wiped her hands on the napkin. “Okay, point me and my banana breath in Frankie’s direction.”
“More flies with honey, remember?” Susanna cautioned. “Door to the left. I’ll give her a heads-up. Good luck.”
Frankie the fly. Ugh. More penance, Karan knew without a shred of doubt. What else? She’d been so selfish—the apple obviously hadn’t fallen far from the tree—she’d probably spend the rest of her life atoning for all the people she’d offended, all the people she’d hurt by her selfishness.
She had not been kind to Frankie in high school.
Taking a deep breath, Karan was determined to suck it up. She was a Kowalski, after all. She could practically hear her father’s voice in memory saying, “No one’s perfect, princess, but at the end of the day, you’ve got to be able to look yourself in the mirror. That’s all any of us have.”
She missed him so much sometimes it hurt.
Another deep breath and she strode through the open doorway into a reception area outside the director’s office. She barely got a smile on her face before a door opened.
Karan would have recognized Frankie anywhere, yet she seemed an entirely different person with a lot of years and life between the smart-mouthed teen Karan had despised and this woman dressed professionally in a nicely tailored suit.
“Hello, Frankie.” She grabbed the reins. “I’ll bet I’m the last person you ever expected to be standing in your office.”
Or wanted there.
“I can handle it. For a good cause,” Frankie said.
That mouth was still going strong, Karan noted. And the hair, too. Fuzzy as ever. But Susanna had been right about everything else. The years had not played tricks on Frankie, aka Francesca, the way they had with Wannabe Jenny. In fact, Frankie wasn’t nearly as unfortunate as she’d been as a teen.
Karan supposed some people were like that. They aged like fine wine. Certainly beat decaying like an overripe banana as Wannabe Jenny would know. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have Karan’s good genes.
“I’d like to schedule an appointment with you to discuss sponsoring an event for New Hope.”
“Certainly,” she said. “But we’re here, and I’d be happy to talk now, if you’d like.”
Karan couldn’t decide if Frankie was trying to be polite or just wanted to get this over with.
<
br /> Flies with honey. Flies with honey.
“If that’s most convenient for you,” Karan said.
Frankie invited Karan into the office and motioned to a chair in front of the desk.
Karan didn’t miss the twinkling diamond engagement ring and wedding band set. Sizeable enough to be noticed. She approved. Karan launched into her pitch about the golf challenge she hoped to organize with Greywacke Lodge as a sponsor. “I know your facility has supported New Hope in the past—” because it was a pet project of Frankie’s husband “—and sponsored the first annual Return to Peace Brunch. We hope that by involving your residents in the golf challenge, we can raise awareness about domestic violence with people who have the resources to contribute through pledges, estate planning or even with titled donations like cars or boats. At this stage of the game everything will help.”
Frankie listened attentively, but now she inclined her head and reached for a calendar. “Susanna mentioned some of the things you’re doing at New Hope, and we’re definitely interested in lending a hand. A golf challenge sounds like a wonderful way to engage our residents. It’s important for them to stay connected to the community, to feel valued. Not all of them play golf, of course, but a great many do. Why don’t we come up with some tentative dates?”
Karan whipped out her BlackBerry, and they worked out some potential dates and discussed details about the specific needs of targeting this age group. Frankie certainly seemed knowledgeable about the population of the community. Karan jotted notes about specifics to incorporate in her proposal.
“You’re willing to provide the transportation?” she asked.
Frankie nodded. “That will be easiest. We’re outfitted to transport our residents. Once I have a solid number, I’ll work out the details. Bus, van, cars.”
“Great. That will definitely save money that can be put to good use elsewhere.”
“While I’ve got you here, Karan, let me also mention that we have an ongoing activity calendar. If you’re interested in scheduling a presentation about New Hope, that might be a good way to make contact with residents who won’t participate in the golf challenge. Doesn’t have to be anything formal or fancy. We provide refreshments, but we generally have a good turn out.”
“Great idea,” Karan said, pleased. And she found that she meant it. “Pencil us in. I’ll work out the presenter with the directors and get the information to you so you can advertise.”
Karan met Frankie’s gaze across the desk. Somehow, during the past ten minutes, history had managed to retreat to where it belonged. The present was all about the director of an upscale retirement community trying to actively engage her residents in a cause that would benefit New Hope.
In the present, Frankie seemed to be one more person trying to make a difference, trying to help. Was this good will mentality trending in the new millennium? Or had it been going on all along and Karan hadn’t noticed?
Like Frankie. Had the antagonistic girl Karan had once loathed transformed into this professional, not unattractive—despite the fuzzy hair—woman?
Or had Karan’s perceptions simply been all wrong?
After gathering up her BlackBerry and notes, she shook Frankie’s hand, thanked her for her time and promised to follow up when businesses reopened after the Fourth of July holiday.
Before she left, Karan paused in the doorway. “By the way, Frankie, I hitched a ride with Brooke and your daughter. She’s a lovely girl. You must be very proud.”
For the first time since Karan stepped foot inside this office, Frankie smiled. And that smile said absolutely everything. “Thank you. I am.”
Karan walked out, knowing that whatever life tossed her way, at least for tonight she’d be able to look herself in the mirror.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
KARAN SNAPPED THE LEATHER journal she’d been reading aloud from shut and glanced up to find Rhonda watching her with a thoughtful expression.
“Wow,” Rhonda said with her gift for understatement. “You’ve had a lot going on this week. I appreciate you sharing your thoughts. And I agree. There’s so much there I would have hated for you to miss anything. I’m so glad the writing is proving a good tool for you.”
Karan nodded, all talked out for the moment. She’d taken a leap. Gone for it as Brooke would have said. She’d recorded everything that had happened after her visit to Matthew and filled Rhonda in the best way she knew how. She’d written a lot and the reading of it had taken a while. There wasn’t much left of this session. She wondered what Rhonda would zero in on.
But Rhonda didn’t seem time-conscious as she leaned back in the chair and said again, “Wow.”
Karan wouldn’t argue. It was funny how she’d first walked into this very office convinced there would be nothing here for her, nothing but whiling away more of her commitment to the alternative sentence. But now she came out of these sessions feeling good. As if she was focused and clear and pulling the pieces together on things she didn’t realize needed piecing together. She didn’t know how else to explain it. Maybe it was all the talking. Or maybe it was all the listening.
“Well, how do you feel about putting a demon behind you?” Rhonda finally asked.
“Which one?”
“The one you put behind you.” She smiled. “Seems to me there are still a few on the table.”
“Frankie?”
She nodded.
“I could look myself in the mirror. I felt…good.”
Rhonda applauded. “You go, Karan. You should feel good. Moving forward is empowering, liberating even.”
She must have looked confused because Rhonda said, “Think about it. When we’re willing to let something go, we free ourselves up to move in new directions. That takes the ability to change and the courage to risk the unknown. When we empower ourselves to do that, by definition we’re trusting that we can handle whatever comes up, that we’ll recognize and enjoy the good stuff and figure out the rest. Can you think of anything more liberating than believing in yourself?”
Karan set the journal on the desk, trying to fit what Rhonda said around what she’d done with Frankie. “I guess not.”
“You know, we haven’t discussed your mother before,” Rhonda pointed out. “And now that you’ve had a little time to consider the situation with fresh eyes, how do you feel about what happened that night?”
That took some thought. She stretched her legs out before her. “Guilty.”
“That’s interesting. About what, exactly?”
“For embarrassing her. It’s bad enough I’m dealing with it, but by coordinating these events, I’m involving everyone I know and drawing attention to my situation.”
“Do you think that’s a good reason to be embarrassed of you?”
Even the thought was making Karan uncomfortable. She didn’t like remembering her mother’s complaints or the way they’d made her feel, so resigned, so guilty. “Everything she said is true. I’ve been married twice and neither of my marriages hit the five-year mark. I can’t drive because I’m dealing with a DWAI—”
“That’s not what I asked,” Rhonda pointed out. “I asked if you feel she has good reason to be embarrassed of you.”
“Well, no. Not everything has worked out the way I’ve planned, but it could be worse.”
“You mean you could be a crack addict who gave birth to an addicted baby? Or a high-powered workaholic mom who lets the nanny raise the kids? True, you made a bad choice after a glass of champagne, but you’re not someone who sits at a bar after work every night and thinks nothing of getting in the car for the drive home. You’re not someone who doesn’t care that you have driving restrictions, someone who gets behind the wheel even after her license was suspended.”
“None of the above.”
“You’re not perfect, Karan. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Who is?”
Rhonda smiled. “Exactly my point. If you’re feeling guilty because you’re not the perfect daughter, then gue
ss what?”
“I’m always going to feel guilty.”
She nodded. “How is talking about this making you feel?”
“Uncomfortable. Almost mutinous.”
“You’re feeling disloyal to your mother? Did you feel guilty because you were upset about Charles and you needed your mother to be there for you?”
An easy answer. One of the few tonight. “Yes.”
“Do you think you were asking for anything unreasonable?”
“No. I didn’t even burden her with the details since she was on her way out. I just didn’t want to be alone in the house and I can’t drive anywhere but here. I didn’t want to run into Charles, either.”
“Interesting choice of words. Burden.”
No denying that she felt that way sometimes. Not always, but definitely some of the time. “My mother’s sort of hit or miss with the parenting.”
“Fair enough. But you did pick up the phone and call Susanna. Did you feel guilty about needing her?”
“No.”
“So you’d reciprocate if she needed you?”
“Of course.” And she had. “Susanna’s husband Skip was sick for two years before he died.”
Two years of doctors’ appointments and uncertainty. Through it all Susanna soldiered on to keep her family together when their world was crashing down on top of them.
“Tell me about some of the ways you were there for Susanna during that difficult time,” Rhonda said.
Karan explained how she and Patrick had pulled strings with every doctor they’d known to get Skip the best care. She hadn’t wanted delays while waiting for tests, time for the non-Hodgkins lymphoma to run rampant and take away his chances to win the fight.
Driving Skip into the city for treatments when Susanna couldn’t take time off work and Skip’s parents were getting overwhelmed by their only son’s struggle.
Slumber parties with the kids when Skip had a bad reaction to the chemotherapy or wound up in the hospital.
Or simply listening when Susanna needed to talk. She hadn’t been able to unload on Skip, who was fighting so hard, not when she was bolstering his spirits so he’d keep hope.
The Husband Lesson Page 20
