Once Upon a Project

by Bettye Griffin

  “I’ll check on him when I get home, which will be in about fifteen minutes. I hate to put his care in your hands, but I really do need to take a break.”

  “I understand. Did you have a good time at the party?”

  “Oh . . . yes. It was wonderful.” A faint vision of her and Kevin furiously making love appeared before her on the highway, and she blinked it away. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  With heavy steps, Elyse entered her bedroom. The dim night-light helped her make out Franklin’s form beneath the down quilt.

  She headed for the bathroom, confident that he was fast asleep.

  “Elyse.”

  She froze, as if she’d been shot with a stun gun.

  “Come here. Please.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. Please? That didn’t sound like the Franklin who’d been lashing out at her every chance he got.

  She turned around and approached the bed as he turned on the light. Her heart did a little somersault at the sight of him lying with the covers up to his chin. Only his head showed, propped up on two pillows.

  “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  “If you don’t want me here, Franklin, I don’t have to be,” she said wearily.

  Someone—it had to be Todd—knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  Todd entered the room. “Just wanted to make sure everything’s all right in here. But Dad, since you’re awake, there’s something I have to tell you.” He cleared his throat. “Mom told me what you said to her. That was a terrible thing to say. How could you? You know she’s always been here for you. We’re the most important people in her life. You’ve treated her like a dog these last couple of months, and she still insisted that taking care of you is her responsibility. She doesn’t deserve the terrible things you said. You know you’ve been the only man in her life for years, and that she’d never cheat on you. . . .”

  Elyse swallowed and averted her eyes, wishing she could vanish into thin air. She felt like she was worth two cents as she listened to her son defend her against Franklin’s endless verbal attacks, knowing that she was still carrying the scent of another man. And even now she felt torn—measuring physical pleasure and the emotional need to be desired against the wrongness of adultery.

  Todd, clearly fueled by nervousness, finally concluded his speech. “I wouldn’t be any kind of a man if I let you get away with talking to Mom like that.”

  Franklin closed his eyes and nodded. “You’re right, Son. I said terrible things to your mother, especially this afternoon. I was afraid that she’d walked out for good, that I’d never see her again. I was just about to tell her how sorry I am and beg her to forgive me.”

  Elyse sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers.

  “I’m dying,” Franklin stated simply. “I tried to accept it when I first found out I had cancer. I thought I’d been successful, but when it came back so quickly I felt angry. When Frankie told me that Rebecca had seen your mother and a man embracing on the same side of a restaurant booth, it hit me that I’d be dead and your mother would be seeing other men.”

  Elyse opened her mouth to protest, and he gestured for her to be quiet. “Don’t deny it. You’re still young and great-looking. I knew you weren’t stepping out on me, and when you explained what happened I understood perfectly, but I know there’ll come a time after I’m gone when you’ll be seeing men and it won’t be so innocent. That was too much for me.”

  “Dad, you shouldn’t torture yourself with those types of thoughts,” Todd said.

  “I can’t help what I think. I’ve got nothing but time to think about the future of my family, and how I won’t be here to see it. I won’t see Frankie’s children grow up. I won’t be here to walk Rebecca and Brontë down the aisle when they marry. I won’t see you and Brontë graduate from college.”

  Tears ran down Elyse’s cheeks, but she made no sound.

  “I can accept my fate now. But I’d want to die right away, Elyse, if you left me. You mean the world to me.”

  She tried to speak without breaking down. “Everyone has a breaking point, Franklin, and you pushed me dangerously close to it with the things you said to me this afternoon. But I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  At that point Todd began backing toward the door. He slipped out of the room silently.

  “Our son is quite a man, isn’t he?” Franklin remarked.

  She laid her head on his chest. “Yes, he is. I love you, Franklin. Don’t you ever doubt that again.”

  He stroked her hair and her cheek. “I wish I could take it all back. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you the way I did. I love you, baby, now and always.”

  Elyse sat up. “I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll be with you in a few minutes, all right?”

  He chuckled. “Where’m I going?”

  As Elyse scrubbed herself during a quick shower, she kept thinking, If only he had said this to me yesterday. If only he hadn’t called me a ho tonight. If only I could take back my actions just like Franklin wanted to take back his words. It sickened her that she couldn’t even meet his sincere apology with a kiss, but instead could go no closer to him than his chest, because she hadn’t had an opportunity to wash off the evidence of intimacy with another man.

  One thing she knew for sure. She could never see Kevin Nash again. He was a living reminder of the most low-down action she’d ever taken in her life.

  Chapter 57

  Early December

  Chicago

  Grace beamed across the table at Pat. “This is nice, isn’t it? The two of us having a quick drink after work before our dates get here.”

  “It’s nicer for some of us than others. You’ll get a ride home in Glenn’s car service.”

  “One of the perks of being a judge; you don’t have to drive yourself to work. I think you’ve got a good shot at finding that out yourself one of these days. Pat, I can’t thank you enough for inviting Glenn to the party you and Andy gave; otherwise I never would have known he’d lost so much weight.”

  “Part of me wanted to tell you last summer that he was becoming a shell of his former self, but something told me to wait until he’d reached a size I felt you could live with. And in the meantime I kept hoping you’d get rid of that Eric.” Pat made a face. “As much as I felt him to be wrong for you, I didn’t know if I’d feel comfortable with your dumping him just because someone better came along.”

  “Oh, yeah. That one was definitely headed down the wrong path.” Grace shook her head. “But, you know, Eric would be considered a catch by a lot of women. He has a reasonably good job, he’s handsome, has no children, and he knows how to hang up his clothes. He’s no Oscar Madison. And he’s great in bed.”

  “True, but you’re not most women, Grace. I believe that some relationships can work if the woman makes more money than the man, but it takes a special man to do it.” Pat took a sip of her wine. “So tell me how things are going with you and Glenn.”

  “Real well. We went to dinner last Saturday and talked for hours.”

  “And then?”

  “Then we went back to my place,” Grace said innocently.

  “And then? Did Miss Grace give it up on the first date?”

  “Oh, hell. I’ve always been a pushover. Besides, I haven’t had sex since I broke up with Eric, and that was months ago.” Her mind indulged the memory of that night with Glenn, and the next thing she knew she was wearing a grin as wide as her face.

  “I take it he curled your toenails.”

  “Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I will say this . . . Glenn’s a big man. All over.”

  They dissolved into a fit of giggles.

  Chapter 58

  Late December

  Chicago

  “Susan, you’ll have to give me a refresher,” Bruce said as they drove toward the church in Bronzeville where Franklin’s funeral was being held. “I haven’t seen your friends in a long time. Now, E
lyse is the bereaved, right?”

  “Yes. Her husband’s name is . . . was Franklin.”

  “And Grace . . . Is that the one with the pointy chin?”

  She laughed. “You’d better not let her hear you say that. The proper term is ‘heart-shaped face.’”

  “Maybe, but with that chin she could give the Wicked Witch of the West a run for her money.”

  “Bruce, you’re awful.”

  “Sorry. Okay. Who did I leave out?”

  “Pat. She’s the one who knows everybody. She’ll be there with her boyfriend. He’s white.”

  “I guess I’ll be able to spot her easily enough.”

  She gave his thigh an affectionate squeeze. He’d surprised her when he said he would go with her to Franklin Reavis’s funeral. Sometimes it seemed like old times between them. She knew it would end the moment they got to their bedroom, but easygoing times like these made life a little more pleasant. She still had two months to go before she had enough recent experience to start looking for a full-time job, after which she’d sit him down and tell him she wanted her freedom. Even with that, she saw no reason for relations between them to be frosty.

  “I guess there’ll be a bunch of other folks you’ll want to introduce me to,” he remarked.

  “No, I don’t think so. Most of the people from the old neighborhood probably went to the wake last night so they won’t have to miss work.” While many people did take vacation time the week between Christmas and New Year’s, many others did not. “This will be family, close friends, and coworkers, maybe some folks from church.”

  “Just as well. So the only names I have to remember are Elyse, Pat, and Grace.”

  “Yes. You know, I should probably warn you about Grace. She’s on the lookout for a new husband, one who makes more than she does. She’s seeing someone now, but he’s just a judge. High on prestige, but not exactly pulling in the big bucks. If anything happens to me, she’ll probably try to move in on you.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Susan. She’s your friend.”

  “Yes, but she’s always felt that once a relationship is over she can try to wiggle her way in. She did that with my first boyfriend, and with one of Pat’s as well.”

  “I think that’s low-down.”

  “I just thought I’d warn you,” she said loftily, before turning her face away and looking out at the passing scenery.

  “Susan.” Bruce said her name like it was a command. She turned her head to look at him.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I just have one word for you: Don’t.”

  She feigned innocence. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t go thinking that the next funeral will be yours. You’re not dying of cancer, Susan. You’re living with it.”

  She blinked back tears. That was exactly what she’d thought the moment Pat had called her with the sad news of Franklin’s passing the day after Christmas. Bruce knew her so well, better than anyone, even Charles. What a sweet thing for him to say.

  At moments like this she felt blessed, in spite of the worry and unhappiness she lived with every day.

  Pat held her breath as she and Andy entered the church. She wondered if her parents had arrived yet.

  Her mother had suggested that they all drive up together, but then Pat told her that Andy was escorting her. “Your father won’t like that,” Cleotha said after a long pause.

  She had responded without hesitation. “Then he might want to stay at home. You be sure to tell him that, all right? I have to go now.” Then she’d hung up the phone. She hated to be rude, but she had to stick to her guns. She’d just turned fifty a few days ago. She wasn’t some child who lived under his roof whom he kept fed and clothed, abiding by his rules in exchange for the privilege. Hell, for years now she’d been helping take care of them. She could be doing a whole lot with that two hundred dollars she gave her parents every month.

  “You all right?” Andy asked. “Your arm went kind of stiff.”

  Pat quickly realized that she’d allowed her entire body to go rigid with all the tension she felt. “I’m fine,” she said.

  She knew that her parents had missed her over the holidays, but she’d eagerly accepted when Andy asked if she’d like to celebrate both Christmas and their fiftieth birthdays at the cabin of a friend of his in Breckenridge, Colorado. They’d been born the same week, he on the nineteenth and she on the twenty-second. They’d flown out on the eighteenth and returned two days ago. Pat knew that Franklin had little time left and had pleaded with Elyse to call her if she needed to talk, or if anything happened. Elyse called the evening of the twenty-sixth, as she and Andy were packing, to inform her that Franklin had passed away that afternoon.

  Pat had spoken to Elyse since she’d been back, but she hadn’t seen her yet. She knew from Elyse that Franklin’s last weeks were happy ones, that the two of them had made up, and that Franklin got the entire family together to ask them to stop sniping at each other. Of course, he’d really been talking to his older children, both of whom had been trying to curry favor with him by criticizing their stepmother and younger siblings. Pat wished she could smack that Frankie and Rebecca for behaving so badly. She remembered how Elyse used to take them everywhere when they were kids, to the movies, to Six Flags, even once to the water parks at the Dells.

  But at least Franklin had passed away with his wishes made clear, and with his relationship with Elyse intact.

  Grace adjusted the face netting of her hat. She’d nicknamed it the I’m-so-sorry-for-your-loss hat because the only time she wore it was to funerals. She paired it with a tailored black suit and simple black slingbacks, and she had to admit she looked good.

  Once out of the car, she slipped her arm through Glenn’s. He gave her a reassuring smile, and once more she thought to herself how glad she was to have him with her. How lucky for her that he’d taken vacation time this week. Pat had Andy, and Susan had Bruce, at least as an escort. She didn’t want to be the only one to show up alone.

  God knows that if she was still seeing Eric, he would balk at taking a day off to attend a funeral of someone he didn’t know, the husband of someone he barely remembered. To get there, she would have had to dangle over his head the Mercedes he liked driving so much, possibly even tell him she needed someone to lean on if she got upset during the service. The likelihood of her getting that distressed was nonexistent, but that was beside the point.

  But how nice it was to have someone she didn’t have to bribe or cajole. Glenn helped her out of his Cadillac STS and took her arm. He’d insisted they leave in plenty of time before the service, much to Grace’s annoyance. She doubted anyone would even be there yet.

  The moment she got inside the church she craned her neck. “I don’t see Pat.” Then she spotted Ricky Suárez and his wife sitting in a rear pew, and she steered Glenn to the pew directly behind them. She wasn’t surprised to see Ricky, for she knew that Pat had sent out e-mail notices about Franklin’s passing to everyone who signed the guest book at the Dreiser reunion luncheon.

  Ricky turned at the sound of movement behind him. “Grace, hey!” He leaned forward to give her a quick hug, then shook hands with Glenn, introducing himself before Grace could do it, and presenting his wife, Miranda.

  “Hello, Miranda. I remember you from the reunion luncheon last spring. Nice to see you again.” Grace beamed at Ricky’s wife, who in spite of her beauty looked rather dowdy in a long-sleeved black dress with a white collar. Then Grace introduced Glenn.

  “Pardon me for not getting up,” Miranda said, patting her stomach. “It’s getting more difficult these days.”

  Grace stared at Miranda’s midsection. She was pregnant. No wonder she looked so drab.

  “Well, congratulations to you both,” Glenn said. Grace managed a big smile.

  “Thanks. Four more months to go.”

  “There’s Susan,” Ricky said. “And Pat’s with her.”

  Grace turned to see the Dillahunts pausing to sign the
guest book while Pat and Andy waited their turn. They stepped aside to let someone pass, Andy placing his hands casually on Pat’s shoulders to move her out of the aisle. Grace stole a glance at Ricky. The surprise in his eyes told Grace he recognized Andy as Pat’s date from last summer. Did he figure she’d be alone and he could flaunt his pregnant wife in front of her? Grace wondered.

  She waved Susan over. Susan said something to Pat, who was now signing the guest book, before walking over with Bruce. Introductions followed. Grace was surprised that Bruce remembered her name. Wow, was he good-looking. And fit. And rich. Too bad he was such a prick. Imagine avoiding your spouse because of his or her medical condition. Didn’t he know that marriage was supposed to be for life?

  Grace wasn’t dismissing her own two failed marriages, but they ended because both parties were unhappy. That made it a little different. Susan would have been happy to spend the rest of her life with Bruce if he’d handled her illness like a man instead of a cowardly lion.

  Pat and Andy joined them. Time for another round of hellos, how’ve-you-beens, and introductions. Grace noticed that Pat didn’t seem the least surprised at seeing Ricky, nor did his being there seem to cause her any dismay. Grace considered that maybe she just didn’t care. Good for you, Pat. It’s about time.

  Finally someone got around to the point about why they were all there.

  Pat glanced at her watch. “The service isn’t scheduled to start for another ten minutes. Since we’re all here, why don’t we go up and offer condolences to Elyse?”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Susan said.

  “I think I should stay here, Susan,” Bruce told her. “This isn’t the time for renewing old acquaintances. I’ll get to speak with her after the service.”

  “I’ll wait here, too,” Glenn added.

  Grace rose to her feet. “Well, all who’s coming, let’s go.” She led the entourage of Pat, Susan, and Ricky.