by Becky Durfee
Elijah lingered around the funeral home, approaching both Jenny and Brad to make small talk when the line dwindled. His presence was a nice distraction for her, allowing her to say more than just “Thank you,” and “I appreciate you coming.” However, his company still wasn’t enough to prevent her from wishing the evening was over.
Once the crowds disappeared, it was the family’s turn to say their final goodbyes. Each family member was given a private moment at the casket, and Jenny used her turn to try to put an end to the terrible secret that her father had harbored for more than a quarter century.
With the her mother and siblings respecting her privacy through distance, Jenny sighed at the side of the coffin. “Hey, Dad,” she began as the tears formed. “I haven’t heard from you since the other night, so I’m hoping you’ve crossed over and you are at peace. If that’s true, I’m not even sure you’ll hear this, but I’ll say it anyway.
“I talked to mom, so I know the story.” The tears dripped down her cheeks; she wiped them with the back of her hand. “I know you didn’t create me, but let me assure you that you’re still my Dad. In fact, I actually have even more respect for you now. I am grateful for your willingness to raise me as your own. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you, especially considering I have apparently inherited some of Roddan’s traits. I understand your reaction to my paintings now. I know you liked them. I know you were proud of me.” Jenny smiled lovingly at the body that used to hold her father. “That reaction was just the best you could do.
“Somehow I think you’re not hearing me.” She looked around the room, trying to see something that wouldn’t have been visible anyway. “I don’t think you’re here. But I know that’s a good thing. And I know I will see you again one day. I only hope I can relay the same message to you once I get there. You are my Dad. If I ever have kids, I will show them pictures of you and tell them that you are their grandfather. Roddan is Roddan. You are Dad.” She lovingly stroked the edge of the casket. “I love you, and I always will.”
Sadness threatened to engulf Jenny, so she got up from her knees and walked out into the lobby. She was greeted by reassuring hugs from her family for which she was grateful. She waited tearfully but patiently as the rest of her family said their goodbyes. Finally the time came for everyone to go outside, and the cold, crisp air felt invigorating. Once she walked out from under the awning, however, she realized a cold rain was falling. She hadn’t been prepared for that.
Jenny noticed Elijah standing a few feet away from her, holding the duckie umbrella over his head as he offered the other one to Jenny. She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of this grown man—and a large one at that—using a duckie umbrella, but she also felt touched by the kindness of his gesture.
Taking the umbrella and opening it over herself, Jenny remarked, “Well, thank you, sir. I like your umbrella.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Although I’m not sure it’s big enough.” Clearly for children, it was barely wide enough to cover his shoulders.
Giggling, she asked, “Do you want to trade?”
“Nah, I’m good. But I’m wondering if I can talk to you for a minute before you head home.”
Jenny looked at her family, who all seemed to be assuming the same thing. Ignoring the bewildered stares, she agreed to spend a few minutes sitting in Elijah’s car. She hugged her family goodbye, noting that she’d see them again in the morning at the funeral.
Once inside Elijah’s car, Jenny commented, “Do you realize my entire family thinks there’s something going on between the two of us?”
“I know. I got that impression.”
Jenny laughed. “So what is it you wanted to tell me?”
“Actually, I think I’m just going to add fuel to your family’s suspicions. I wanted to know if you would go to a restaurant with me tomorrow night. I have arranged to meet Jacob—that’s my best friend who hosted the party—and his wife out for dinner. We’re going to try to figure out who owned gray cars back then, if we can remember. I’m hoping you can come in case Lena decides to make another appearance and give us some hints.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Jenny replied.
“I don’t know when you plan to go back home, but there’s one other thing I want to invite you to.”
Jenny wondered if she was about to be asked on a date. Butterflies danced around her stomach, although she wasn’t sure why she was nervous.
“My fifteenth high school reunion is this weekend. It would be great if you could come with me. Maybe her killer will actually be there, and Lena can lead you to him.”
Internally laughing at her own misconception, she replied, “Well, I hadn’t planned on staying that long, but I can. It sounds like the perfect opportunity to get some information.” A thought occurred to Jenny. “But aren’t reunions usually in November?”
“Usually,” Elijah replied, “but not when your class president is a slacker like ours was. He claims that he purposely scheduled it for Christmas time when more people are likely to be around, but I think he just dropped the ball.”
Jenny giggled.
“But are you going to miss too much work if you stay through the weekend?” Elijah asked.
“I’m self-employed, so I think my boss will understand.”
“Oh really? What do you do?”
Jenny wasn’t sure what to make of the question. “I’m a psychic.”
“For a living?” Elijah asked. “Am I supposed to be paying you?”
“No, I work for free.” Jenny smiled.
“But…” Elijah began, “how do you make money?”
“I’m independently wealthy,” she replied with a laugh. “I’m living off an inheritance.”
“You know, everyone I’ve ever met who claims to be living off of an inheritance is actually a drug dealer.”
“Well, I can assure you I’m not a drug dealer. I may offer you an ibuprofen if you need it, but that’s about all the pushing I do.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to arrest you.”
Jenny let out a yawn. “So what time should we meet for dinner?”
“I’ll let you know. Here, let me drive you to your car. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the hotel and get this day over with.”
“You read my mind,” Jenny replied with a tired smile.
Nestled comfortably in the hotel bed, Jenny checked her messages on her phone. The only message was from Zack, letting her know they had gotten the house. Had she not been so emotionally void, she would have been much happier to hear that.
She dialed his number as she let out a yawn; he had a lot more energy on the other end of the line. “Hey, roomie!”
She found his enthusiasm almost painful. “Hey. So they accepted our bid, huh? That’s good news.”
“Sure is! We just need to figure out a closing date. I hope you don’t mind, but I told them we could be flexible. They need to find a new house, and I wanted to give them time to find a good one.”
“That’s fine,” Jenny replied. “I would have said the same thing if I’d been there.”
“I figured you would have.” With a more serious tone, he added, “So how are you doing?”
“Good. Tired. And I have to get up on the early side for the funeral tomorrow.”
“But it’ll be over after that, won’t it?”
“The ceremonies will be. Then life can start to go back to normal.”
“Are you planning on coming home after the funeral tomorrow?”
“Actually, no,” Jenny replied. “I have promised to stick around a little while longer to help my brother’s friend solve the Russian girl’s murder. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind. I’m just a little jealous, that’s all. I’d like to be up there helping you with the case.”
Jenny smiled weakly. “I appreciate that.”
“I do have news for you, though. I talked to Kyle Buchanan today, and he said he’d look for your birth father for you.”
“Thanks, Zack. I appreciate that, too.”
“I’m one heck of a guy, aren’t I?” Then he added, “One heck of a guy who has a shit-load of packing to do. I’m starting to realize just how much crap I’ve accumulated in this place since I moved in three years ago. This move is going to be quite an undertaking.”
“Not for me,” Jenny replied playfully. “I have two folding chairs, an air mattress and a TV. Done.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.”
Jenny’s phone beeped in her ear, indicating another call. She looked to see who it was, and the caller surprised her.
“Zack, I’m sorry, but Greg is calling me. I can’t imagine why he’d be calling unless it’s an emergency. Can I let you go?”
“Sure,” Zack said. “But feel free to give me a call back if something is up.”
“Thanks. Hopefully it’s nothing,” Jenny replied. She said goodbye to Zack and clicked over. “Hello?”
The pause was long. “Hey, Jenny…It’s Greg.” He waited for Jenny to reply. She didn’t. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“About what?”
Greg’s voice had a quality of weakness that Jenny had never heard before. “About us.”
Jenny closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Had she known this was what the call was going to be about, she would have never answered it. “What about us?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking. I realize I wasn’t fair to you over the years. I was thinking that if you were to move back in here, things could be…different.”
Not one single cell of Jenny’s body wanted to go back to Greg, but she had taken a vow to him—which she was breaking—so she didn’t feel like she could simply hang up on him. “I’m not so sure that would be a good idea,” she said. “I don’t think we were a good fit.”
“But I know it was because I didn’t believe you. I’ve read the newspaper articles, Jenny. I know that you really are psychic, and you did help solve Morgan Caldwell’s murder. I believe you now, and I’m willing to support you.”
“But that wasn’t our only problem.”
“I know. And I’m willing to work on those problems. Whatever our problems are, I’m willing to work on them.”
Jenny looked up at the ceiling; that statement alone showed he really had no idea about what had truly been wrong with their marriage. “Greg, I’m sorry, but your timing isn’t good at all. I’m in Richmond right now; I just got back from my father’s wake.”
“Your father passed away?”
“Yes, a few days ago.”
“Oh my God, Jenny, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jenny’s voice reflected her exhaustion. “Why would I?”
“Because I’m your husband.”
“We haven’t been living as husband and wife for weeks now.”
“But I’m still your husband.”
Unsure of how to respond to Greg’s comment, she ignored it. “I’m really tired right now. I’d like to get some sleep. Maybe we can talk about this later?”
Greg let out a frustrated sigh. “We can talk later if that’s what you want.”
“That’d be great,” she replied, although ideally she’d rather not talk about it at all. She had thought it was over—completely over—but it seemed Greg wasn’t going to be shaken so easily.
Why did this have to be so difficult?
As tired as she was, sleep still managed to elude Jenny. The conversation with Greg had gotten her so riled up she couldn’t settle herself down. Damn Greg, she thought. With one simple phone call he can manage to screw up my entire night. Aware that she wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep until she talked about it, she called her mother, hoping to catch her before she went to bed.
“Hey Jenny,” Isabelle said in a worried tone. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Jenny replied. With a sigh she confessed, “Greg just called me. It sounds like he wants to reconcile.”
Isabelle remained silent for a while. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Bad. Definitely bad. But the whole thing has me rattled. I’m wondering if you’d be able to sneak in one more mother-daughter lunch before you head back to Kentucky tomorrow.”
“Of course, dear. I’m just sorry that I live so far away from you. I wish we could get together for lunch more often, especially now that I know what you’re going through.”
“I know, ma. But I’m the one who moved away from you, remember? If I can’t have lunch with you, it’s my own fault. But the good news is that the people accepted the bid I put in on that house in Tennessee ; I’ll only be two hours from you instead of five. That makes it a little better.”
“That’s great, dear! Is this the house you’re planning to share with that Zack fellow?”
There it was again. “Yes, the house with the in-law suite.”
“Well good for you. I do have to admit I’m relieved that you won’t be living completely on your own. It’s nice to have a man around to look out for you and keep you safe.”
Jenny smiled. As irresponsible as Zack was in so many ways, she couldn’t deny his ability to make her feel protected. “Yeah, ma, Zack’s a good guy.”
For a moment, in spite of herself, she desperately missed him.
“Well, sweetie, after the funeral tomorrow we’ll get that lunch, okay? In the meantime, are you going to be able to sleep?”
“I think I will now. It helps just knowing we’ll talk about it.”
“I’m glad. I love you and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Feeling emotionally bankrupt from the funeral and burial, Jenny sat across from her mother at the diner. In between she had swung by the hotel and changed into jeans, so at least she felt comfortable in her clothes, even though her own skin felt six sizes too small.
“So what did you tell Greg when he said he wanted to get back together?” Isabelle posed.
“I said I didn’t think it was a good idea. Then I told him I was tired and would discuss it with him later.”
Isabelle bit her lip. “Well, that speaks volumes.”
“You would think,” Jenny replied. She and her mother both ordered waters from the waitress. “I just feel terrible, you know? I was never supposed to be divorced. Divorce is for other people—people who didn’t take their vows seriously. I meant it when I married him.” Jenny’s voice reduced to a whisper. “I’ve just changed my mind.”
“Filing for divorce doesn’t make you a horrible person,” Isabelle assured her. “In fact, if you’re going to do it, it’s probably better you do it now, before you have kids.”
Jenny nodded as she absorbed the words, curiously adding, “I always thought you and Dad were firm believers that marriage is supposed to last forever.”
“Your father was a firm believer in that,” Isabelle noted. “But to be quite honest with you, I was perfectly content living with my sister after we separated. I was happier there than I’d been in years. If I hadn’t been pregnant with you, I probably wouldn’t have gone back with him.”
Just when Jenny thought she couldn’t possibly feel any worse, she got proven wrong. “I’m sorry, ma.”
“That’s not your fault, honey. Besides, it all worked out in the end. I had a nice life with your father.” Isabelle slid a menu over to Jenny as she took one herself. “The problem was that when your father first came back promising to change, I didn’t believe he actually would. I mean, maybe he’d manage to be different at first, but I figured it would only be a matter of time before he went back to his old ways. But, being pregnant, I wasn’t in any position to decline his offer. He was offering me stability, and I needed to take it.
“But I was pleasantly surprised. He really did act differently after we got back together, and he stayed that way. I think he learned a lesson when I left—he learned that he couldn’t treat me like dirt and expect me to stay. He realized I was a privilege, not a right. That makes all the difference.”
Suddenly Jenny was confused. What if Greg really wou
ld change like her father had? If she went back to him, would she also enjoy a perfectly pleasant life? Was she being too rash by deciding she didn’t want to go back?
But the thought of returning to him invoked a horrible and undeniable sense of dread. She was so happy now; why would she regress back to her old life? She rubbed her eyes and released a long breath. This mother-daughter lunch wasn’t helping.
“But let me ask you this,” Isabelle continued. “Does your reluctance to go back to Greg have anything to do with this Zack fellow?”
A very legitimate question indeed. “You know what? I honestly don’t know. In some ways, yes, and in other ways, no.”
“You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”
Jenny started to speak as the waitress arrived. Having not even looked at the menu, the ladies made quick decisions about their meals and placed their order. Once the waitress left, Jenny said, “Zack has some really great qualities. He respects me, which is something I’m not used to. He genuinely enjoys being with me, and so far he’s been very attentive.”
“That’s fantastic,” Isabelle said. “He obviously likes you. But…” she raised an eyebrow at Jenny. “How do you feel about him?”
“The jury’s still out on that one,” Jenny confessed. “He’s definitely funny, and I am attracted to him. But he also just stopped showing up at his job one day because he didn’t like it. He’s chronically late.” Jenny took a sip of her water. “He doesn’t own an umbrella.”
“I’m not sure an umbrella should be a deal breaker.”
“It’s not, in and of itself,” Jenny replied. “It’s symbolic.” Glancing up and noticing her mother’s obvious confusion, Jenny continued. “During my last case, Zack and I were at a crime scene, and he got drenched because it was pouring and he doesn’t own an umbrella. But when Elijah and I went to a crime scene yesterday morning, he brought two umbrellas because it looked like rain. And one of the umbrellas had ducks on it. It was his daughter’s.” She looked down at the table. “I’m not sure I’d want to have kids with a man who doesn’t own an umbrella. I want a man who has two umbrellas.”
