vacation.”
Walt cleared his throat. “I’ll tell Joe to pick up the contract and process it. You can take the vacation business up with him.” The call went dead.
He did not hang up on me! Walt, you are king of the jerks!
She fell back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. “God, what did I do to deserve this? Why are you punishing me?”
She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. Silence enveloped her. Then she sighed deeply and sat up.
Mary Lou touched her sister’s number on her cell phone.
Eileen’s voice immediately calmed Mary Lou. “How exciting for you to be in Alaska. Everyone missed you yesterday. Mom and Dad said for you to take a lot of pictures. When will you be home?”
Mary Lou sighed. “It looks like it may be a while. I got everything done here and went to check out. That’s when I found out about the avalanche. I could be here another few days. The sun is already going down. It is so cold here. Forget pictures. I’m just surviving.”
Eileen laughed. “You are such a drama queen. It can’t be that bad. ‘Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.’ Philippians 4:4-5.”
Mary Lou rolled her eyes. “I have to go. I have to find a fax machine so I can get this contract to the Denver office.” Fine. Drama queens don’t have to talk to unsympathetic sisters.
Thursday, December 27
Lakewood, Colorado
Beth Pederson started her day like any other day. She slept in, took her bath, came down to the kitchen, and fixed a cup of designer coffee. She added creamer and sugar, then took her seat at the kitchen table. She had been awake, pretending to sleep, when Walt left their bedroom. She heard him walk down the stairs and assumed that he had left. The offices were closed; he would have gone to the club.
She was used to him not saying good-bye. She took a minute to contently contemplate her day ahead.
She peered through her sliding glass doors to the patio. The edges of the covered patio retained a small amount of ice from the storm a few days before. The sky was a bright blue with bleached white clouds. It was going to be a nice day.
The phone rang, interrupting the peaceful moment.
She lifted the receiver.
The loud voice caused her to relax. “Hello, Beth. Is that you, Beth? Beth, it’s Ralph. It’s Uncle Ralph. Are you there? Can you hear me?”
Beth thought she heard a click on the line but raised her voice so her uncle could hear her. “Uncle Ralph, this is Beth. I can hear you.”
“Beth, Beth—they’ve agreed to exhume the body, and soon we will finally know the truth!”
Beth thought she heard another click on the line. “Just a minute, Uncle Ralph.” She put the phone down and headed towards the other phone. “Walt? Is that you, Walt?”
Walt met her in the foyer. “Well, who in blazes do you think it would be?” He went to the closet and pulled out his lined trench coat.
Beth took a step back. “I—I didn’t know you were still here.” She put her hands on her hips. “Were you listening in on my phone conversation?”
Walt ignored her and put his coat on.
She tilted her head. “Walt, were you listening to my phone conversation? How many times do I have to ask you?”
He pulled on his favorite hat. “Of course I wasn’t listening to your phone conversation. Why would I care what you have to say to your old Uncle Ralph?”
Beth folded her arms and stood taller. “I knew it! Who said I was talking to Uncle Ralph?”
Walt turned and headed to the door.
She shouted after him, “Have you had breakfast?”
“I’ll grab something at Starbucks.” He slammed the door behind him.
She made her way back to the kitchen table and picked up the phone. “Uncle Ralph, tell me what you’re so excited about.”
“Well you know that doggone soap opera, On the Horizon? They finally made a move. I’ll bet it’s been two years we’ve been waiting to find out who killed Victor Oldham. You’ve been watching, haven’t you?”
Beth wasn’t about to admit that she only watched that program occasionally in order to keep up an intelligent conversation with her deceased father’s brother, Uncle Ralph.
“Uncle Ralph, you know how long it takes for anything to happen on those soap operas. I’m just really glad that you keep me up to date. Now, the last time I saw it, the judge was going to make a final decision.”
Uncle Ralph started coughing, recovered, and chuckled. “Well, it took the judge two weeks to figure out they needed to exhume that body. Old Victor’s been in the ground two years. I wonder what they’ll find out. I get so exasperated with these guys. It takes them so long to get to the point. Everyone else here in the home is just is as disgusted as I am. But all us old fogies are celebrating today.”
Beth sipped her coffee. “They should celebrate. It’s been a long wait.”
“Sometimes the days are long in this place, and those soap operas seem to help. I know you must think I’m just an old man who doesn’t have anything to do but watch soap operas. I want you to know that if I could get out of this bed by myself, I’d come over there and watch with you.”
“Oh, I would love that! I need to get over there to see you.”
“I’m not trying to put you on a guilt trip. I miss your dad. We spent a lot of time together.”
Beth gulped. “I miss him, too. Funny you should mention him. It’s been ten years today.”
Uncle Ralph sniffed. “No, I didn’t realize what day it is. Well, he’s in a better place. How is your scoundrel of a husband doing these days? With the oil boom, he must be making the dough hand over fist. Even so, your dad sold ten times what Walt does. Of course, your father worked ten times harder than Walt does.” He laughed.
Beth placed her cup in the saucer. “I refuse to listen to you talk that way about my husband.”
“Hey, Beth, I call ’em like I see ’em. Always have; always will. I told your father the day I met Walt that he was a lazy gold digger.” He sighed deeply. “I told your father what I thought, and he told me that you were in love and for me to keep my mouth shut.”
Beth blinked away a tear and leaned back in her chair. “Father was a wise man. That was good advice. You should take it.”
“You know I love you like a daughter. If I ever had one, I would have wanted her to be just like you. I don’t know how you put up with all his garbage.”
“I
