Coaster (14 page)

Diana smiled. "Yes, she always did. Even as a child she always had something playing or was singing a song. Brilliant, Kate. I will find something that works to honor her memory. It was so wonderful to see you. May I give you a squeeze?"

Kate nodded and Diana stood. Wrapping her arms around Kate she felt the small body hug her back and closed her eyes to relish the feeling that was similar
to,m but not exactly like, hugging her own daughter. "Thank you. I won't keep you."

"It's okay. It was good to see you, Mrs. Richfield." Kate backed away and turned toward the door.

Under her breath Diana said, "Goodbye."  Then she stood and walked to the bar holding out too much money to the bartender so she could get to her car before she began to cry.

                                                                      ****

James pouted as he looked around at the small room where boxes of his things were scattered. The walls were painted tan and his leather couch fit well in the room, but the size of the space was what irked him. After living in a Kensington mansion, he was now in a small townhouse that was a quarter of what he was used to living in. Even worse, most of the antiques were Diana's so the lovely feeling of quality he'd become used to was gone. What he had was utilitarian and bland. James got up and wandered into the loo. It was nice-sized with a big tub that Regina had cooed over. He looked at himself in the mirror. How had he gotten here? While he wanted to blame someone else for his misfortune, he couldn't. Hitting his hand on the sink basin in frustration he decided he had to do something.

                                                                      ****

Clara had actually eaten something. Sitting at Rachel's table she felt familiar and rather good
for the first time in weeks. In this house she was connected to her daughter and grandchildren. She could see their life and it felt more like she was house-sitting for them than mourning. Pushing away the reality that immediately dispelled this lie, she picked up the phone. Dialing her home number she heard the phone ring several times and the machine picked up. The automated voice told her the mailbox was full. Irritated she hung up, and then dialed Joseph's cell phone. It rang five times and she got another automated voice, this one telling her to leave a message.

"
Joseph, it's me. I'm sorry I left like that. Sorry that I left you to deal with everything. The service. The people. I just...." Clara's voice cracked. "I just couldn't do it. Couldn't sit in the room and see people's faces and listen to their words. I'm not ready to deal with this yet. And I know I should but I...look I'm at Rachel's house. I know it seems weird that I'm here, but it helps being among her things and smelling her. I just need a few days. Can you give me that? I promise I'll be back soon." Clara hung up the phone.
Yes, I'll be home soon.
That's what she believed anyway.

                                                                      ****

He was lying face down on the kitchen floor. Joseph had heard the phone ringing, but it seemed too far away to wake him. He'd passed out and hadn't moved all night. He felt wetness and stirred slowly.
What was that
? He felt his pants.
Shit, I pissed myself.
He got up from the floor and took his pants off dropping them into the laundry room as he headed to the bedroom. Twenty minutes later, he had taken a shower and his head was a bit clearer but still pounding. He found the two empty bottles on the floor and threw them away, and then he looked around at the kitchen. There were plates, cups, silverware and take-out boxes spread over every flat surface. He could smell rotting food somewhere. Joseph paused and ran his hand through his wet hair. This mess was too big to tackle with a hangover. He grabbed his keys to drive to a diner for a greasy breakfast.

He saw the
message light on their answering machine blinking and pushed the button. Clara's voice filled the air and he felt his heart tug. As the message played he realized that he missed her. She sounded good, or at least better than she'd been for a while. He'd call her when he got back home, but now he needed to eat something.

Chapter Eighteen

The restaurant was quiet and dark. Roger sat across from La Rosa as they ate their pasta. He was
trying not to stare, but she looked really beautiful. The sharp edge that she gave off at work seemed blurred as she smiled at him and took a sip of her house red.

"When
my second brother got initiated into a gang, I decided I was gonna be a cop." La Rosa was looking at her plate and Roger could see the emotions playing across her face.

"What did your parents do?"

She looked up. "What could they do? My mother lost two sons to gangs and violence was a constant. I didn't want to be around that life. So I studied like crazy and got good grades. On career day in high school a police officer came to our class and I talked his ear off. He kept in touch. When I was ready to graduate he helped me get the paperwork together so I could go to the academy. As tough as school had been, the academy was brutal. But for some reason instead of wanting to quit, I just wanted to win. I guess my competitive nature was waiting for the right opportunity."

Roger laughed.

"What?" La Rosa looked at him.

"Nothing. I was just picturing your
determined chin. Those other candidates didn't stand a chance."

La Rosa smiled and shrugged. "That's true.
What about you?"

"Me? Not much to tell. Local boy. I didn't do great in school
but I always liked to read. I like working with my hands a lot more than my mind. I'm an only child and my parents are retired down in Mexico. They moved with a couple of other friends to some town down there where the white hairs go."

"What about your daughter?"

"Tori? She's great. Really smart and completely cool. She's one of those people that are going places, you know. You can just see it in her eyes. My ex is okay. We split pretty amicably as far as divorces go. We got married young and outgrew each other. We do a pretty good job co-parenting Tori. Although sometimes...." Roger fiddled with his napkin.

"What?" La Rosa was interested.

"Sometimes it feels like Tori is the parent. Not that I'm completely immature, she just seems to be...like...wise beyond her years. It can shake me up sometimes. She's been like that ever since she was a baby. Anyway, she's a great kid." A smile played at his lips.

The
y spent the rest of the meal talking about the music they liked, their favorite movies, and how much they both loved the Dodgers. It was a nice afternoon and when they exited the restaurant they both paused as if they didn't want to leave.

                                                                      ****

The man was frustrated because the press was waning on the roller coaster bombing. This week he'd only been able to find one blogger who was talking about it. Although there was a small article in the Journal, it was on page fifty so it wasn't going to make any impact on anyone.

The man felt that anxious feeling
returning that he'd gotten rid of with the execution of the bombing. He was edgy now and having trouble sleeping. He still didn't have any money coming in and the bills were piling up on his coffee table. The envelopes were becoming consistently red and he'd had to turn off the ringer on his home phone because collection agencies were calling. When it all got to be too much he sat down in front of the T.V. and watched the video he'd taken of the bombing. The flash and explosion followed by screaming and running people somehow eased his agitation. Before going to bed he swallowed a sleeping pill and then checked the stock market. A smile spread across his face when he saw the company's stock still was taking a huge hit. His mind slowed and the tension eased for a fraction of a second as he enjoyed continued success.

                                                                      ****

James sat with the pistol in his lap. He'd sent Regina home because he was formulating a plan. While he quickly became the black sheep of the aristocracy, he wasn't going to take it lying down. The lack of return phone calls from his previous colleagues made it obvious that this divorce was going to destroy him. Even Regina was going to leave if his social standing fell much more. This was intolerable and disastrous. People were taking sides and of course they weren't going to choose him over Diana and her family connections. His life, as he knew it, was over. Well, that was fine. If she wanted to play it that way, he was going to make her pay...his way.

                                                                      ****

Diana had narrowed down the charity she was going to support in the children's name.
Beauty in the Beholder
brought music and art to children of the inner city of London and they planned to branch out to other countries. It was the perfect blend of both Anne and Christopher, and the non-profit had been ecstatic to have Diana's newfound support.

They were planning
a fundraiser for next month and with Diana's address book, hoped to bring an entirely new clientele to the organization. The founder, Elena, had taught piano her entire life and was not only sweet but formidable. She was in her late fifties and had outlived both her husband and her son. This next stage in her life to make this non-profit into one of the top in the world. Diana's patronage on behalf of her children was a perfect beginning.

After the first meeting these
two women really liked each other. Both of them had lost children and that shared pain was a catalyst to honest and real communication. It was a win-win for both them to find friendship and sponsorship for
Beauty in the Beholder.

Diana felt
strength of purpose she'd never experienced. Doing for others was so much more rewarding than just doing for yourself. Being able to use her party planning abilities to bring not only funds to the organization, but to honor Anne and Christopher's name, had made her truly happy.

She drove through London enjoying the smell of rain on the pavement. Diana was writing a list in her mind as she
drove down her driveway. Getting out of the car she took a deep breath and walked into her home.

                                                                      ****

Joseph had come home and decided he needed not to drink today. He had to clean up the house because now that Clara had reached out to him she would probably be coming home soon. If she came home and saw the house the way it was now, she'd be incredibly mad. He brought a plastic bag to the counter and swept the old food containers into it. A clatter jarred his ears as a bottle tipped over. He picked it up and saw that there was a tumbler full of booze in it. He set it aside as a reward and kept cleaning. An hour later he'd made pretty good headway, so he took a break. He filled a glass with the remaining liquid and sat down in the living room. After one hit he knew he wasn't going to stop. He finished the drink and reached under the chair for the full bottle he'd put there. The drinking began and the cleaning ceased.

                                                                      ****

Clara had gone through the kitchen at Rachel's house throwing out the old food left in the refrigerator. While running the vacuum, she heard the satisfying sound of things being sucked up. Then she went into each of the bedrooms and folded clothes, put them away, and straightened the bedclothes. It took most of the day to put the house in order, and after she was done she was hungry. Heating up some soup she turned on the television for the first time since the accident and watched the world come through the screen. She called Joseph one more time and left a message when he didn't answer. Then she climbed into Rachel's bed, gathered her daughter's clothes around her, and fell asleep.

Chapter Nineteen

Two weeks after the memorial Diana heard from the corporation. They told her they had a suspect and they expected a trial to take place in the next month or two. It would be in California and they would fly her out if she wanted to be there.

Diana told them she would get back to them
. She wasn't sure she wanted to go back and hear all the testimony about what had killed her children. It wasn't like anything said in that courtroom was going to bring them back. Besides, she was completely involved in
Beauty in the Beholder
and it was rewarding and cathartic.

Diana was growing
personally by leaps and bounds. The altruistic lifestyle affected her physically. She was glowing and happy, maybe for the first time in years. She stopped the Botox injections, letting her face be real. She spent more time in jeans than Gucci and it felt nice. People commented on how the tight, unhappy, curt Diana had been reborn to someone easy, calm, relaxed, and happy.