Once Upon a Project

by Bettye Griffin

  “I’m leaving.” Pat picked up her shoulder bag from the floor in front of the coffee table. “I can’t even stand to look at you, Grace. You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you tell me that you slept with the one man I ever truly loved.” She spun around and ran toward the door, letting it slam shut behind her as she exited.

  Grace leaned forward, her hands cradling her forehead. Then she dropped her hands and sank back into the sofa cushions. “That went well,” she said aloud.

  Chapter 47

  Mid-October

  Lake Forest, Illinois

  Ever since Franklin’s diagnosis Elyse had gone into panic mode whenever he felt less than chipper. If he complained of having a headache, she wondered about brain metastasis. If he had indigestion, she wondered about his stomach. She’d been wrong, and eventually she’d learned to calm down.

  But three weeks ago, when he’d left his office early and told her he just didn’t feel well, she had bad vibes. She’d insisted he see the doctor and he’d undergone a battery of tests.

  On the way to the appointment with Dr. LeBlond, Franklin insisted that it wasn’t necessary to tell anyone, at least not right away, if the news was bad . . . But they both knew in their hearts that it would be. Once they sat down in Dr. LeBlond’s office, he told them that Franklin’s cancer had returned, this time having spread to his liver, stomach, and bone.

  Franklin asked about the prognosis.

  “It’s what we call ‘guarded,’” the physician replied.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound very promising,” Franklin pointed out, and Elyse picked up on the sharpness to his tone.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t. We have to talk about treatment.”

  “No treatment,” Franklin said. “I went through hell that last time, and it only helped me for three and a half lousy months.”

  “Franklin!” Elyse exclaimed.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I know I should have shared this with you, but I knew it would only upset you. Besides, I hoped it wouldn’t come up again this soon. I can’t go through that again. What are the odds that it’ll really prolong my life by any substantial length—and I’m not talking three months here—anyway?”

  They both looked at Dr. LeBlond, whose solemn expression only served to prove Franklin’s point.

  For a horrifying moment Franklin seemed to shrivel before her eyes, slumping in his chair. Then he straightened up and calmly said, “I guess that’s that.”

  Nevertheless, Elyse tried to change his mind the moment they left the doctor’s office. Only when he looked her directly in the eye and said quietly, “Elyse, my mind’s made up,” did she know that he really meant it.

  She felt numb. Franklin, her husband of twenty-six years, was going to die. How could she tell Todd and Brontë? And what about Frankie and Rebecca?

  This time there would be no rebound. She could tell just by looking at Franklin. He’d been either listless or visibly uncomfortable since the day he’d left work at two o’clock. He hadn’t been back, and she knew he would never return.

  Things would be different in another way, too. Franklin would have a caregiver, whether he wanted one or not. If the way he looked was any indication, Elyse couldn’t imagine him objecting. She’d talk to her boss about cutting back on her hours. Even a few hours would give her more time to spend with Franklin, especially while the sitter became acclimated. A sitter would do for now. She’d bring in home hospice as a supplement when the time came. And if any of them knew what was good for them, they wouldn’t question her judgment. She was calling the shots, damn it. Franklin would be comfortable and well cared for, and that was all that mattered.

  Elyse opened the bedroom door a few inches, then closed it when she saw Franklin sleeping peacefully. She returned to the living room, walking like a zombie. But strangely, she couldn’t cry. The tears just wouldn’t come.

  Just as Elyse had when he was first diagnosed, she wished she could talk to one of her friends, but there was no one to talk to. She and Kevin had whittled down to no contact at all, and her girlfriends all had a lot on their plates. Susan was adapting to being back in the workforce part-time and was busy with her family on the weekends . . . or so she said. She’d begged off the last two times Elyse suggested they meet for lunch, leading Elyse to suspect she had something else on her mind. At any rate, Elyse wasn’t going to ask her again. If Susan really wanted to keep in touch, let her make a move.

  Grace had broken up with Eric Wade and seemed a little broken in spirit, like she’d given up on ever finding the right man. And Pat had made up with Andy after having a big fight about, of all things, Ricky Suárez. Ironically, Grace had been the catalyst for getting them back together by confessing that she’d had a secret affair with Ricky after both their divorces. Grace’s confession helped Pat realize how foolish she’d been to carry a torch for Ricky all these years and that she shouldn’t let the best thing that had happened to her in years get away. Andy loved Pat, and she loved him. But she had yet to introduce him to her parents, and Elyse knew she was frightened.

  Elyse knew from talking with both women that Grace had apologized to Pat and they’d formed a truce, but only on the surface. They hadn’t even seen each other since making up.

  Elyse saw on her calendar that they were all supposed to meet for dinner next Saturday, the first get-together for the Twenty-Two Club since the reunion; and she wondered who would be the first to cancel. Too bad. One should really never leave bad feelings to fester. You never knew what the future might hold for you. Did Franklin have any olive branches to offer? she wondered. And what would she do if she was told she was going to die? Was there anyone she would want to make peace with?

  A childhood memory flashed through her brain. Yes, she thought, there was.

  Chapter 48

  Late October

  Evanston, Illinois

  Kevin was waiting at a bench just inside the front door when Elyse arrived. He immediately got to his feet and held out his arms. “How about a hug for old time’s sake?”

  Elyse felt a flash of discomfort only for a second. After all, the whole point of her calling him was to put the kissing incident behind them and to show she had no hard feelings. She stepped into his arms and out of them within seconds.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” she said.

  “Thanks for calling me. I was beginning to think I’d lost an old friend.”

  They followed the hostess to a booth. “That’s the reason I called,” Elyse explained when they were seated. “I didn’t think it was right to let one bad impulse put a damper on our friendship. I wanted to make things right.”

  “I can’t tell you how glad that makes me feel, Elyse. I’d pretty much given up on your ever talking to me again. Tell me, how’s Franklin?”

  “He’s . . . he’s not good.” She lowered her gaze. She’d spoken to her children about Franklin’s prognosis, to her parents, and to her manager at work, but it still hurt to put it into words.

  The waitress appeared, all perky and bright. “Hi. Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes,” Elyse said, glad for the interruption. “I’ll have the chicken quesadillas.”

  “You can bring me a roast beef sandwich with the sauce,” Kevin said.

  The waitress repeated the order and left.

  “Now, what were you saying about Franklin?” he asked. “Is he still working?”

  “No. We saw his oncologist last week. There’s cancer in Franklin’s liver and stomach, even in his bones.”

  “Oh. Elyse, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  A sob caught in her throat, and she covered her face with her hands, unable to hold back the tears. It had been such a difficult week.

  Elyse had tried to be stoic, and while her posture showed no weakness, she sat there with uncontrollable tears running down her cheeks in rivulets. The worst that could possibly happen had just happened.

  She found it inconceivable that he might not be alive a year from now, that th
is might be his last fall and winter on earth. Talking about his condition drove home the reality, and she sobbed harder, her tears wetting both her palms and her face.

  She felt movement beside her. Kevin had slid into the booth. He rested her head on his shoulder. “Elyse,” he said simply.

  “My husband is dying, Kevin. What am I supposed to do without him?”

  “You’ll do what every woman who loses her husband does. You’ll find the strength to go on. The important thing is that he’s still here now, Elyse. Take advantage of that.”

  She nodded, then dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her cloth napkin. She took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to do that. We just found out last week. I haven’t even told my friends yet. It hurts just to talk about it, to think about it. And I can’t think of anything else.”

  “I guess you can’t. So this is why you called me?”

  “I just got to thinking that if I were to leave this earth, I wouldn’t want to leave behind any unfinished business. You’ve always been a good friend to me, Kevin.” She laughed. “Remember the time I had to pee on the way home from school when we were in the fourth grade?”

  He chuckled. “You didn’t even want to wait for your friends. You thought you could get home, but you wet your pants halfway there.”

  “And you never told anybody. I’ve always appreciated that.” She’d always felt a special bond with Kevin because he’d kept her secret.

  “I never understood why you didn’t go before you left school.”

  “Because I’d just gotten a special pass from the teacher to use the bathroom like, an hour before. I found out later that I had a UTI—that’s a urinary tract infection. One of the symptoms is having to go frequently.” She laughed. “Thanks a lot, Kevin. I feel a lot better. If I can laugh now, I guess I’ll still be able to laugh when . . . after . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to put it into words.

  He gave her arm a squeeze. “Are you sure you’re all right, Elyse?”

  Once more she nodded. She looked up and glanced at the people at surrounding tables, many of whom had been looking at her and quickly averted their eyes. “Okay. That’s enough of that. I see I’ve already attracted unwanted attention.”

  “I wish there was something I could do for you, Elyse.”

  “I know. You’re doing more than you know, just by keeping me company.”

  “All right. I guess I’ll move back to my side of the table.” With an arm around her, he gave her eyes one last dab with the napkin.

  “Hello, Elyse.”

  The stinging tone of the female voice signaled trouble. But nothing could have prepared Elyse for the sight of her stepdaughter, Rebecca, glaring at her.

  “Rebecca!” she exclaimed, realizing too late that she should have taken a more subdued approach. Her shocked tone gave the impression that she’d just been caught doing something illicit, which, of course, she hadn’t. But that look on Rebecca’s face certainly gave away her thoughts.

  This had all the makings of a disaster.

  “Yes, it’s me. I guess I’m just about the last person you expected to see . . . since my father is helpless at home.”

  “Rebecca—”

  Kevin quickly removed his arm from around Elyse’s shoulder and stood up.

  “Don’t move on my account,” Rebecca said coldly.

  Oh, fine, Elyse thought. She and Franklin’s kids had already had it out over his care. Now Rebecca was jumping to conclusions as casually as little girls jumped rope double Dutch.

  “I was just getting up,” Kevin said easily. “Your stepmother was having a difficult moment, and I went to comfort her. You of all people have a better idea than most of what she’s been going through.” He held out his hand. “Kevin Nash.”

  Rebecca shook his hand limply. “Rebecca Reavis.”

  “I’m an old friend of Elyse’s,” Kevin explained. Elyse silently blessed him for trying to smooth things over. “We went all through school together. We haven’t seen each other in years, and then a couple of months ago they had a reunion for people who used to live in the projects where we grew up.”

  “And you were able to reconnect.” Rebecca met Elyse’s worried gaze. “I guess that will make it easier for you, won’t it? Just remember, you’re not single yet.” She gave Kevin a scathing glance and moved on.

  Elyse leaned back in her seat. “Great. Just what I needed.”

  “I gather you and your stepdaughter don’t get along too well,” Kevin guessed as he took a seat on the opposite side of the booth.

  “We used to, in spite of her mother not being too happy about Franklin’s remarrying and having a new family. She and her brother were still pretty young back then, and I won them over. But I’ve been butting heads with her and her brother ever since Franklin first went into the hospital. They feel like they have to have someone to blame for his illness, and I’m the one they chose. She’ll get over it.” She touched her tear-streaked face with her fingertips. “Excuse me, Kevin. I’m going to go wash my face before our food comes.”

  “Sure, go ahead. I’ll take this call.” His cell phone was ringing, the ringtone being the “1812 Overture.”

  He flipped open the phone as Elyse walked away. “Hello. Hey, man!” He listened as his would-be business partner explained that he’d won the baseball pool at work and had gotten a little closer to his goal. “That’s great news. Congrats!” He paused as his friend asked him a question. “Yeah, I think I might be getting closer to that golden number myself. I just came into a stroke of good luck. You can say I’ve got to wait until somebody’s out of the picture, but it shouldn’t take long. Maybe a couple of months.”

  Chapter 49

  Late October

  Lake Forest, Illinois

  Elyse entered her home, which looked as it always did. This time Franklin had not objected when she insisted that he have someone in the house to assist him, and they’d interviewed several candidates before deciding on a black woman in her early sixties named Winnie. Part of Winnie’s duties included light housework, and she seemed to be doing a good job. Elyse noticed fresh vacuum tracks in the carpet, and the scent of furniture polish suggested that Winnie had also dusted. That was part of the reason why she and Franklin had decided to hire an older person; they tended to take more pride in their work. There wasn’t much money in being a sitter, but caring for those unable to do for themselves was a vital position just the same. Winnie worked to supplement her pension from her bank teller job.

  “Hello, Mrs. Reavis,” Winnie greeted. “I was just giving Mr. Reavis his pain pills.”

  Elyse winced. Franklin was in such pain, and chances were that it would only get worse. “Hello, Winnie. Were there any calls today?”

  “Yes. Your Number One son called this afternoon.”

  Elyse’s shoulders grew tense. Winnie distinguished Todd and Brontë from their older half siblings by designating them as Number Two son and daughter. Number One son meant Frankie. “He did? Did the call seem to upset Mr. Reavis?”

  “Not that I could tell. Of course, I left the room right after I told him his son was calling.”

  “I see. Well, thank you, Winnie.”

  “If there’s nothing else I’ll be on my way.”

  “That’s fine. Good night, Winnie.”

  Elyse wearily walked toward the master bedroom, the stress of the afternoon hitting her all of a sudden like a tidal wave. She paused at the entrance to knock on the open door. Franklin had been dozing.

  “Well, what do you know,” he said. “I’m surprised you came back.”

  She walked toward the bed. “And why would that be?”

  “Why be bothered with a sick old man when you can have someone ten years younger who’s in perfect health?”

  “I see Rebecca called you.”

  “Actually, it was Frankie who called. Rebecca told him about your lunch partner.”

  “Franklin, that wasn’t anyone but Kevin Nash. I’ve known him since kindergarten.”
>
  “Is that supposed to present some kind of obstacle? ‘I can’t possibly be having an affair with him. I’ve known him since kindergarten.’”

  “I’m not having an affair with Kevin or anyone else,” she said, more sharply than she intended. “I ran into Kevin at the Dreiser reunion. You would have met him if you’d come with me.”

  He flinched, and she immediately regretted her choice of words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course you didn’t come with me. You were ill, you just didn’t know it yet. I’m just trying to tell you not to let anyone make you believe that I’m stepping out on you, Franklin.”

  He turned away.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. Franklin didn’t turn over again, but nor did he say anything.

  “My God, Franklin, what did Frankie tell you? All I was doing was having lunch with a friend.” Maybe that was it—Rebecca talked to Frankie, and then Frankie talked to Franklin. Things often got miscommunicated when passed through multiple channels.

  “On the same side of the booth.”

  “Yes, on the same side. But that was only temporary. I had sort of a meltdown—over you, I might add—and he came to sit on my side to calm me down.”

  “Yeah, right. It was all my fault.”

  “Franklin, are you saying you don’t believe me? This is asinine! We’ve been married twenty-six years. If I tell you there was nothing to it, there was nothing to it. And quite frankly, I expect you to believe me, not some information you received thirdhand from Frankie.”