seemed.
“Maybe, after you rest awhile, you should come to Milwaukee for a nice long visit. We can catch up.”
It occurred to Janice that people said a whole lot of things at awkward times like this. She and Irene had never been close and had rarely exchanged long visits, but she supposed her sister’s invitation was heartfelt. Fortunately, she was saved from answering as Everett joined them, already wearing his topcoat and carrying Irene’s mink. Everett was a successful stockbroker in Milwaukee, a big man who liked sailboats, silk ties and smelly cigars.
“You ready to go, Mama?” he asked in the clipped tones of a man with a cigar clamped between his teeth.
Janice could recall few instances when she’d seen Everett without one of his imported cigars. She’d once remarked to Kurt that she wondered if Everett showered with his cigar, slept with it, made love with it in his mouth. They’d laughed over the foolish thought. She swallowed past a lump.
“You’re looking pale, Lady Janice,” Everett went on as he helped his wife into her coat. “Got to take care of yourself better. Those two fine kids, they need you now more than ever.”
Janice ground her teeth and hoped he wouldn’t notice. Everett’s habit of giving everyone a pet name annoyed her suddenly. Had she lost her sense of humor and her level of tolerance, as well as her life partner? Everett was nice enough and she was being unfair. With his florid face and his excess fifty pounds, he seemed a more likely candidate for a heart attack than Kurt. Was she reacting so badly because Kurt was gone and Everett was very much alive?
In a rush of remorse for her thoughts, she placed an apologetic hand on Everett’s arm. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk today.” Her glance took in Irene. “Perhaps I will drive to Milwaukee soon.”
Irene gave her a smile and another hug. “Take care of yourself and call me if you need anything. Anything.”
“I will.” Janice watched them leave, then paused a moment to catch her breath. The crowd was thinning out at long last. Her father had left some time ago, walking out with his brother, Judson, the two of them deep in conversation. Now if only the others would leave.
She turned to find her cousin Alyssa’s concerned eyes studying her.
“How are you holding up?” Alyssa asked softly, slipping her arm around Janice’s waist.
“All right.” Janice drew in a deep, steadying breath. “It’s odd but I never once pictured this scenario.” Alyssa’s husband had died about ten years ago, and though she’d not given it much thought before, Janice now found herself wondering about many things. “How on earth did you cope after Ronald’s death?”
Alyssa shrugged her slim shoulders, her expression unchanged, though there was a hint of sadness in her blue eyes. “You just do, somehow. One day at a time. You have your private moments, and the nights are very long, very lonely at first. It helps to stay busy.” She smiled then, trying for a lighter note. “I have loads of committees I can use your help on. In time, my dear.”
Charity work and volunteering. She’d done her fair share of all that, Janice thought. More of the same held little appeal. Yet what would she do when there was no one to cook a special meal for, or redecorate a room for, or plan an outing around? She would find something, but this wasn’t the day for decision making.
Janice indicated the dining room table, still laden with food. “The luncheon was lovely. You and Anna did a wonderful job.”
Alyssa shook her head. “You didn’t eat a thing, did you?”
“I’m not hungry, truly.” She squeezed Alyssa’s hand. “I need to say a word to Tom Sikes. Excuse me a moment, please.”
She found him in the dining room at the dessert bar. She’d known Tom, Kurt’s office manager, for years and found him to be earnest and honest, if a shade pedantic. He also seemed to feel a measure of guilt, since he’d invited Kurt to play handball with him at his apartment complex on the outskirts of Tyler on that fateful day, though she’d tried to reassure him that Kurt’s heart attack had been no one’s fault.
Janice touched his arm. “Tom, I’m sorry we haven’t had more time to talk.”
From behind thick, horn-rimmed glasses, he blinked at her. “I want to say again, Janice, how very sorry I am. I’ll really miss Kurt.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“And I want you to know that I’ll be at the office every day, at your disposal, when you’re ready. I know this isn’t the time or place, but...”
Janice frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean. At my disposal for what?”
Tom stroked his thinning blond hair. “To go over the books. Some decisions will need to be made about the business, about who will run things. What about the satellite office Kurt had set up in Chicago, the plans he had for expansion? We have several large policies coming up for renewal soon. We need to work up bids since...well, since Kurt’s gone, some of our clients may not automatically renew with us as they have in the past.”
Rubbing her forehead, Janice felt light-headed. She hadn’t given a thought the past few days to Kurt’s work. “I...we didn’t discuss the business much, Tom. I know very little about how the agency operates.”
Tom nodded understandingly. “It’s all right. I can update you when you’re ready. In the meantime, I hope you’ll trust me to keep things running smoothly.”
Tom had been with the firm almost from the day Kurt had opened Eber Insurance Agency. He and Kurt had also become jogging buddies and had gone skiing together often since Tom’s divorce. Looking at him now, Janice realized she hardly knew the man. But Kurt had trusted him and that was good enough for Janice. “Yes, I do trust you. And I’ll be in as soon as I...well, soon.”
“No hurry. Take your time.”
She watched Tom walk away and turned to get herself a cup of coffee. But when she picked up the cup, her hands were shaking so hard that the cup rattled in its saucer.
“Here, let me help you with that.” David Markus poured coffee for her, then led her to the window seat where he’d been sitting watching her.
Gratefully, Janice took a bracing sip, closing her eyes briefly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Up close, he saw a light sprinkling of freckles on her nose that he remembered from an earlier time. They gave her a youthful look that touched him. “Rough day. I know you’ll be glad when we all leave.”
She opened her eyes to look into his steady blue gaze. She saw empathy and concern and something else she couldn’t identify. Having David Markus appear at the cemetery after so many years had surprised and unnerved her. He was so big, his shoulders in his pin-striped dark suit so broad, his hand as he took it from her elbow large and tan.
He’d changed from boyishly handsome in his college football days to a deeper, more mature attractiveness. She’d dated David as a freshman, but she’d quickly learned that he had goals, commitments and obligations, and he wasn’t about to let a woman sidetrack him. Yet he was looking at her now with a warmth that she couldn’t help responding to.
“It’s been a very long time, David,” she
