have been, until now.”
“Your daughter is lovely. She reminds me a great deal of you when we were in college.”
“Oh, she’s far prettier. Stefanie lives in Boston now and just became engaged to a Harvard law graduate. I still miss having her around.”
“I can imagine. I had a talk earlier with your son. Nice young man.”
“I think so.” She paused, trying to remember. “Your wife died some time ago, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, twelve years ago.”
Janice’s expressive eyes reflected sympathy. “An accident, I believe Kurt said.”
David nodded, angling his body on the window seat so he could look at her better. “She lost control of the car on an icy road.” He decided to change the subject, to probe a little, hoping he wasn’t getting too personal. “Will you be all right?” A man who spent his life in the insurance business probably had good coverage on himself. But as a financial adviser, David was well aware that many men had all the trappings of wealth, yet were mortgaged to the hilt. And, although Janice’s family had money, he didn’t know if she had an interest in their holdings.
Janice finished her coffee and set it aside, deciding that his politely worded inquiry was about her financial situation. “I’m embarrassed to tell you that I haven’t any idea. Since you were his friend, you’re probably aware that Kurt was the kind of man who liked to run the show, to take care of everything. And I let him.” She glanced over at Tom Sikes with a worried expression. “Now, I wish I’d at least asked more questions about the business. But I never dreamed...I mean, he was only forty-six.” Her voice ended on a ragged note.
David took her hand, threading his large fingers through her slim ones. “Life takes some funny turns, doesn’t it, Sunshine?”
For the first time in days, she felt a smile tug at her lips. Sunshine. She remembered going on a hayride with David back when she was a starry-eyed freshman thrilled to be asked out by a football hero. They’d all been singing, and one old song, “You Are My Sunshine,” had been given a particularly rousing rendition. After that, David had often called her Sunshine.
“That sure takes me back,” she told him.
“You remember then?”
“Of course. We had some good times together.”
“That we did.”
He was so solid, Janice thought, his presence so calming. For a fleeting moment, she wished she could lay her head on David’s broad chest, to let him comfort her and ease her fears.
Instead, Janice shifted her gaze out the window. The wind had picked up in late afternoon and the sky was gray, the clouds heavy with snow. She felt a chill skitter down her spine, reminding her of the reason they were all gathered together today. “It’s so very hard to accept that he’ll never come home again.” She spoke softly, almost to herself. “Kurt traveled a great deal, but I was seldom lonely because I knew he was coming back. Being alone and knowing there’ll be no one returning ever again is very different.”
David had lived alone most of his adult life, yet there were times he felt the same. “Fortunately, you have your children, family, friends.”
Yes, there were people, plenty of people. But would they be enough? Surprised to find her hand still in his, Janice pulled her fingers free and stood, suddenly uneasy. “I have to talk with a couple of others. David, it’s good seeing you again.”
He did something then that he’d been wanting to do since he’d stood watching her at the cemetery. Rising, he placed a hand at her back and drew her close to his body for the space of a long heartbeat, then pressed his lips to her forehead, finding it cool to the touch.
Her hands rose to his chest in surprise, then lingered a moment. She inhaled the clean scent of soap and smoke mingled with the outdoor smell of a wintry day, a decidedly male combination. Stepping back, she realized she was trembling.
David took a card from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “If you ever want to discuss a business matter, or if you just need to talk, my office and home numbers are on here. Call me.”
Janice nodded. “Thank you.”
Brushing a strand of hair back from her forehead, she watched him make his way to the door and find his overcoat. In moments, he was strolling down the snowy sidewalk toward a long, gray Lincoln.
David Markus had been widowed for years and seemed to be coping fine. She would, too, Janice thought as she slipped the card into the pocket of her black dress. Somehow.
With a weary sigh, she turned back to mingle with her remaining guests, wondering if this very long day would ever end.
IT WAS ALL pretty overwhelming. Janice sat at her dead husband’s desk in his paneled study, with piles of papers stacked everywhere, wondering where to begin.
The house was too quiet, even though Stefanie was curled up on the leather couch across the room reading a book. Janice had always enjoyed this house; yet now the rooms seemed oppressive, the emptiness mocking her.
K.J. had had to go back to school shortly after the funeral, but she’d been delighted that Stefanie had been able to stay longer. It was two weeks since they’d buried Kurt, the days filled with people coming and going and the pleasure of having her daughter home with her. And the nights filled with restless tossing and vivid memories.
Swallowing, she bent to her task. It felt strange going through Kurt’s desk, which had been his particular domain. She’d located the will he’d made out, leaving everything to her. Just what “everything” was she hadn’t determined yet. As she looked at the insurance policies, stock certificates and files on their personal household bills, Janice felt like crying.
“Something wrong, Mom?” Stefanie asked, getting up and coming over.
Janice blinked back the tears. She’d done far too much crying lately. Forcing a smile, she pointed to the stack of bills and mail that had accumulated since Kurt’s death. “There’s so much to go through.”
“How about if I help you?” Stefanie gave her mother a quick hug, then pulled up a chair beside her.
Janice opened the electric bill and studied it. The amount didn’t seem very high. She flipped open the checkbook. There was less than two hundred dollars in the account since she’d paid the funeral expenses.
Stefanie peered over her shoulder. “Is that about what your electricity usually runs?”
“I have no idea,” Janice admitted. “Dad handled all the bills. He used to write checks every couple of weeks. He always told me not to worry, that he’d take care of them.” Chagrined, she looked at her daughter. “I should have insisted he at least keep me informed, right?”
“Probably, but don’t blame yourself. I know how Dad liked to run things.” Stefanie picked up the next notice. “The mortgage coupon, due on the first of the month. Do you know what you still owe on the house?”
“Not
