Sunshine

“Maybe you can. Are you majoring in art now?”

“No, business administration. Dad thought that would be best. But I take as many extra art courses as I can squeeze in.”

“Well, K.J., I’m not sure I’m the right one to advise you, but it’s been my experience that the most successful men are those who work at doing what they like best. Your dad was a success because he honestly loved business—making deals, beating the competition. However, that may not be for you.”

“I think he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. You know, take over when he was ready to retire and all that.”

David nodded. “My dad owned a butcher shop and loved what he did, cutting the meat, joking with customers. I worked there after school for a lot of years and hated every minute. We’re all different. Maybe you should talk this over with your mother. She might be in favor of a change.”

K.J. cast a hesitant glance through the archway at his mother. “I don’t know. She always went along with my dad.”

David laid a hand on the boy’s arm. “She’s going to have to make several important decisions without him from now on.”

Swallowing, K.J. nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyhow, it was good meeting you finally. Dad talked about you a lot, told me he saw you often in Chicago on his business trips. How come you never came to Tyler before?”

David shrugged. “I have a client in Whitewater, and whenever I’m in this vicinity, I usually end up there rather than Tyler.”

“You know my mom, too, don’t you?”

“I did, years ago.” David hoped he didn’t sound as nostalgic as he suddenly felt. Gazing into the eyes of Kurt’s son, he also felt a pang of regret for opportunities lost and things that could never be. “Good luck, whatever you choose to do.”

K.J. smiled at him. “Thanks.”

As the boy walked away, David searched the room, his eyes drawn to Janice, deep in conversation with the buxom woman who’d been introduced as her sister. He vaguely remembered Irene from their college days, though her hair color was different now and she was carrying an extra thirty pounds. Wishing he could take Janice aside for a talk, even a short talk, he carried his coffee over to the window seat and sat down.

* * *

TRAILING A CLOUD of expensive perfume, Irene Ingalls Bryant came up to Janice and hugged her. “I really hate to leave you, but it’s a long drive home and Everett has to stop in at his office.”

Stepping back to rub at a spot above her left eye, Janice nodded. “I understand.”

Not satisfied with the natural reddish highlights in her hair, Irene had gone on to cosmetically enhance them, winding up with a brassy look. She patted the lacquered curls and frowned. “You really should get some rest. You’ve had a terrible shock.”

Janice wanted everyone to leave, everyone. But that would be rude of her and ungrateful. She put on a small smile. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming.”

“What is family for?” Irene asked rhetorically. “Hayley wanted to make the trip with us, but I wouldn’t hear of it. Her baby’s due any day. She sends her best.” Irene and Everett’s only daughter was expecting her first child.

Janice nodded again. She’d been nodding all day, it 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 said.

“Yes, it has.” He indicated the house, the people. “Good years for you, I see.”

“They 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.

CHAPTER TWO

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 really.” Janice was studying a credit card bill and another from Gates Department Store. Had she run up nearly three hundred dollars’ worth of purchases? Or had Kurt bought some things? She’d usually just given him the receipts and he’d taken it from there. Pretty stupid, she was beginning to realize.

The next envelope was from a different mortgage company, a reminder of a past-due amount. Janice frowned. “I wasn’t aware we had two mortgages on the house.” She remembered clearly Kurt ushering her into the bank for the closing when he’d purchased their home. Stefie had just been born and he’d been so proud to be able to provide such a lovely place. Three years later, Kurt had quit the branch office of a major insurance firm and opened his own agency, telling her that the only way to get ahead was by owning your own business. He’d worked hard and they’d prospered. But she’d paid little attention to his financial dealings.

Stefanie took the notice from her mother’s hand. “There’s nearly nine hundred dollars past-due. Surely Dad couldn’t have just forgotten to pay.”

Janice became aware that Stefanie was looking at her as if she could scarcely believe her mother had so little knowledge of the running of the house. “I can’t imagine that he did.” She sat up taller. “It’s probably an error. I’ll call and get it straightened out tomorrow. And I’ll transfer some money from our savings to the checking account and pay the rest of these.” She felt a little better having decided that.

She hadn’t located a savings account passbook in Kurt’s desk, but he’d probably kept it at the office, Janice decided. She had to order new checks to be printed and find out the up-to-date balances on the accounts. Surely there was enough money. They hadn’t lived lavishly, though they were comfortable. Kurt had rarely refused a request she’d made for a purchase or an improvement on the house. But then, she hadn’t asked often. So much to see to, to think about.

Stefanie had been sorting through the rest of the mail. “This is mostly trivial junk. A magazine subscription renewal notice, a request for the return of an overdue book from the library and a coupon offering a large pizza at a discount. Three more notes of condolence—these names don’t look familiar.”

Janice sighed. “Probably from Dad’s clients. There’s a whole stack on the dining room table.”

“And here’s a notice that the tires on Dad’s car are due to be rotated next week.” Stefanie brushed back her long hair. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about the cars, Mom?”

Janice leaned back, her eyes filling. “How Dad loved that car.” A very impractical Mercedes convertible that seated only two. Kurt had bought it in Chicago and driven it home, so pleased with his purchase. Janice smiled at the memory. “He’d have it washed weekly, and afterward he’d take a rag and polish it even more. I wonder if I should sell that or my station wagon.”

Stefanie stacked the mail in a neat pile. “Why not get rid of both and get something you really want?”

“I don’t know, Stefie. It seems kind of...frivolous.” Janice sat back wearily. “I’ll decide later.” Why hadn’t she paid more attention to things? Why hadn’t Kurt taken the time and trouble to explain all this to her before he died? Why had he left her with this dreadful mess?

“All this has taught me a valuable lesson,” her daughter said, rising to return to her book. “When Ross and I marry, I’m going to make sure we handle the household accounts together.”

“That’s a good plan.” Hers had seemed like a good plan at the time, too. She’d done what her husband wanted her to do. If he’d lived, there wouldn’t have been a problem. But he hadn’t lived.

In a burst of unreasonable anger, she shoved back the chair and went to stand by the window. It was snowing again, a light sprinkling, and quite cold out. She’d hardly left the house since the day of the funeral. Yesterday the dry cleaners had phoned, asking when she’d be picking up Kurt’s shirts. She’d had an urge to tell them to keep them, that he would no longer be needing them.

The windowpane was cool on her forehead as she leaned forward, trying to swallow her anger. It was stupid to be angry with someone for dying. Kurt, she was certain, hadn’t wanted to die, had loved life immensely. Why? Why had this happened to them? It wasn’t fair.

Stefanie came up behind her, slipping an arm around her slim waist. “Mom, are you all right?”

Janice nodded and cleared her throat. She had to get a grip on herself. Stefanie was a worrier and was going home tomorrow. The least she could do was put on a brave front for one more day. “I’ll be fine.” She glanced toward the fireplace. “Why don’t we build a fire?” She was always cold lately, even wearing her gray sweatpants and a heavy sweater.

“We used up the last of the wood last night, remember? Want me to call around and see if I can get some delivered?”

Kurt had always ordered the wood and had it stacked. Janice didn’t even know where he’d gotten it, or who to call. Annoyed, she shook her head. “Let’s forget it. I think I’ll make a cup of tea. Want some?”

“No, but I’ll make it for you,” Stefanie suggested.

“That’s all right. I need something to do.” In the kitchen, Janice turned on the small radio and put water on to boil. Opening the refrigerator, she looked inside, wondering what to make for dinner. Nothing appealed to her, but she’d have to produce something for Stefie’s sake.

She shuffled covered dishes around, leftover food her friends and neighbors had brought over. Taking the lid from a familiar blue dish, she found tuna salad that had gone bad. Kurt had loved tuna and had undoubtedly made it some time ago, then promptly forgotten it was there.

Angrily, she scraped the moldy salad down the drain and turned on the disposal. Why hadn’t he eaten the damn tuna? Why had he let it spoil when he knew food was expensive? And why had he left her here to cope with all this alone?

A rush of guilt flooded her and she felt the heat creep into her face. She had no right to be angry with Kurt. He hadn’t meant to leave her. Yet he had, and she would have to stop feeling sorry for herself and get on with her life. Dear God, where was she going to find the strength to go on?

The music from the radio grew suddenly louder, taunting her. Janice’s head shot up as she heard Johnny Mathis singing, “It’s wonderful, wonderful. Oh, so wonderful, my love.” She and Kurt had danced to that back in college. Only Kurt was gone now and nothing was wonderful. Nothing.

Her back against the kitchen cupboards, Janice slid to the floor, hoping her daughter wouldn’t wander out and see her like this. Resting her cheek on her bent knees, she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.