'As I was saying, forty-six years. Most people would think he and I have a perfectly compatible relationship.'
I nodded. It was true. They seemed more content with each other than most couples I knew – most of the time.
'Well, it hasn't always been like that, but we both knew it was possible. It was something each of us needed and wanted with our hearts and souls.'
I thought about my grandmother, Aunt Vi's older sister, and remembered the stories she used to tell about the upheavals in their young lives. These had always sounded like adventures to me. Now I saw uncertainty and unhappiness – more than two young girls deserved. How they must have longed for a life of predictability where the people you loved would always be there for you.
'The point is, Henry and I had to work at it. There were times when, despite two wonderful children of our own and the success Henry was achieving, I though one or the other of us would pack up and walk out.'
That bit of history I would never have guessed.
'Thea, if you want something enough, you don't give up when things go wrong. If it's right and good, you have patience. Sometimes you have to trust, and not get so involved in the moment you forget there's a tomorrow that wants looking after.'
'You sound like the riding lesson I had yesterday,' I observed in a rueful flash of insight.
She held my gaze and nodded. 'It's much the same, isn't it? People and horses. When they're good, you don't give up on them, even when there's a problem.'
'It's too late. He's given up on me,' I said, making a last stab at pathos.
She smiled gently. 'You don't know what is or isn't in his heart right now. You have nothing to lose by biding your time, and maybe much to gain.'
She was wrong, and though I was calmer than when she'd arrived I knew this was one horse that wasn't going to jump. Paul did not strike me as someone you could coerce or cajole without his permission. Sometimes you had to know when to walk away.
'You need to talk to Jonathan,' she added after a few sips of tea.
'I know.'
'He's basically a good man, but you're not right for each other. Neither of you brings out the best in the other. You both need something the other can't give, and you have to be the one to end things. He won't do it. The sooner the better.'
'Yes, I know. I thought you liked him.'
She smiled at me. 'I like the man who makes you happy, and neither one of you has been happy for some time. He needs you to be someone you're not, and he constantly worries that you won't support him emotionally. You resent him for trying to change you. You need someone who thinks you're grand just the way you are, even if you're not a carbon copy of him. Even when you disagree.'
I nodded and hugged her. Juliet had found someone – obviously. Would I ever find my someone? It surely wasn't Paul. I clamped down on my lower lip to hide the tremble.
A deep breath later I asked, 'How did you come to be so wise?'
She laughed and wiped a little tear from the corner of her eye. 'If you're really, really lucky, life knocks it into you.' She stood and gave me a hug. I was so lucky to have her. 'Time for me to go and time for you to get to work.' She smoothed her dress and picked up her coat and purse.
The phone rang and my warm, fuzzy feeling turned cold and clammy. She squeezed my hand.
'Remember what I said, and be strong.'
She nearly reached the front door when I discovered my phone call was from one of the other men in my life, Detective Thurman.
I covered the mouthpiece and called to my aunt to wait. After listening to the detective's terse order, I hung up. 'He wants me to come in today with my attorney.'
'Better give Mr. Green a call right away.'
Aunt Vi stayed until I completed the call.
'This afternoon at three,' I told her. 'His office will call and arrange it.'
'You let Mr. Green do his job, dear. You have nothing to worry about.'
But worry I did. And I had work to do. Masses of work. I went to my office and turned on the computer. Order and predictability were what I needed and I dug into the stack of client folders sitting on my desk.
I had no sooner opened the first file when I heard a loud knock on my front door. Reluctantly, I left my desk. My hand on the knob, I asked, 'Who is it?'
'It's Sarah Fuller. I want to talk to you.'
Sarah? What would she be doing here? I didn't know she knew where I lived. Then again, with the number of people who were showing up on my doorstep lately, there was probably a big green sign on the freeway with an arrow pointing to my house.
Cautiously, I opened the front door. It was Sarah, all right, and boy, was she not happy. Her face was splotched purple with rage. Her fine, blond hair, wet from the rain, stuck together in clumps, giving her the appearance of a very angry, soaked cat. Did every irate person in the county have me on their To-Do List? Her mouth worked for several seconds, making me wonder if she had dentures that weren't fitting quite right.
Then the recriminations erupted.
'You bitch!' she spat. 'You sicced the cops on me! They goddamn came to my goddamn office to question me about goddamn Valerie! What'd you tell them? 'Get Sarah, she hated Valerie more than anyone else'? You damn near cost me my goddamn job! Greg's about to fire my goddamn ass and it's all your goddamn fault! I'm gonna sue your goddamn ass!'
I blinked at her, utterly dumbstruck. She raised both fists, and I jumped back out of reach.
'ARRGGH!' she yowled at me, did an abrupt about-face and fled from my front porch. I stood in the doorway and watched her car peel out down the street, feeling I'd just watched an anime cartoon in the original Japanese of a very noir Hello Kitty.
'Well, god damn. Wonder if the guy in the black Mercedes caught all that.' I made my way, somewhat shaky, back to my office via the kitchen.
Two cups of coffee and six chocolate chip cookies later, I easily finished the files for three clients. A touch too easy? Maybe someone, somewhere, was taking pity on me and giving me a breather. As I congratulated myself on my near super-human ability to power accurately through stacks of paper, I came upon a stumbling block. Donna Orr-Block to be precise. Generally meticulous in her record keeping and conservative in her spending and investing, she had a rather large loss about mid year. Sure it must be a mistake, I poured myself another cup of coffee, grabbed another handful of cookies, and telephoned her to check. I expected to leave a message. Instead, Donna's life-partner Peggy answered, and I explained the problem to her. She was a client as well.
'Oh girlfriend, that's not a mistake,' Peggy said.
'It's not?' I had the sinking feeling this was going to be complicated.
'Uh huh, and Donna's still mad about it. Darn good thing you got me instead of her. She'd still be on the phone with you tomorrow morning having herself a good rant about Valerie.'
'Valerie? What happened?'
'Last year Donna and I had some, um, differences of opinion about how that roll-over from her retirement fund from her last job should be reinvested – you remember? Greg made some suggestions, and while he was waiting for us to reach some kind of decision Valerie came along and just stuck herself right between us, know what I'm saying? Told Donna she shouldn't let me tell her how to invest her money, and ought to make the decision by herself. Only Valerie was right there with this supposed great idea. Some super high-yield investment. I said no, and she told Donna I didn't know what I was talking about, and I was going to cost her money.' The laugh that reached my ear was not humorous. 'That effin' bitch. You're not going to believe this, since you're familiar with how, uh, fiscally conservative our Donna is, but Valerie actually got her to go along with it. Probably because Donna and I were so mad at each other at the time. She threw the whole amount into that fund. And there's been no return on it. Nothing. Not one stinking penny. Just like I said in the first place.'
'Oh, no. I had no idea. That's not good.'
'Aren't you the queen of understatement. Donna keeps hoping to see some money come back, but personally, I know it's gone forever.'
