Family Interrupted (5 page)

Disappointment surged through me. I’d been prepared to be flexible, maybe a part-time schedule at first until she regained her confidence. She’d reduced her hours the past two years anyway. Of course, for the expansion, I’d need her full-time. She normally would dig into a project like this. But going up against her dreams? Her art? I could never win those rounds.

“Too bad Ian’s not ready to join me.”

“Maybe I could work from home...?” Claire offered.

“And turn the house into a design center? I think not. Besides, our subdivision isn’t zoned for business.” Pushing my chair back, I stood, my appetite for dinner gone but not my need for an antacid pill. I popped one in my mouth. “I do my best thinking while walking, so I’ll see you later. Maybe I’ll figure out if I can save Barnes Construction without you. I can’t believe you won’t give it a try. Maybe you should figure out if you need counseling.”

Claire’s jaw dropped, her eyes bulged. She looked horrified. So maybe I’d been too hard on her.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” she asked. “It’s only been four months, Jack. Are there rules I’m supposed to follow for this kind of grief? Rules I don’t know about but you do?”

She stood facing me now, no longer aghast but ready to argue. She almost seemed like the Claire I used to know. I wanted to cheer, but I also wanted to make my point.

“I don’t know about any rules. All I know is that we’ve lost our daughter. But does that mean we should lose the business too?”

“The business! The business!” she shouted. “How can you compare Kayla to a business?”

“I’m not comparing, Claire. I’d give the company away in a New York minute if it would bring Kayla back. But it won’t, and I don’t know what else to do except work and...love you.”

I took her in my arms. She resisted for a moment and then sagged against me. We held each other, a quiet time for catching our breaths, collecting our thoughts. I sincerely hoped this intermission wasn’t a prelude to another round of arguments.

#

CLAIRE

I sent for the posse, and at nine o’clock the next morning, Judy and my mom rapped at the door. My sister is a petite brunette, just a bit over five feet, but somehow she always seems a lot taller. Jack said it was all about attitude, about being fearless. I said she had a Napoleon complex. We’d laugh and agree it was the same thing.

“Good girl. I smell the coffee,” Judy said after kissing me on the cheek. “It’s the least you can do after I rearranged my morning for you.”

Judy managed the Human Resources Department at the local Macy’s department store, no small task. The company had a myriad of full-time and part-time employees. Judy supervised everything staff related—the hiring, firing, training, benefits, scheduling, and a host of incidentals.

“How can we help you, Claire?” asked Mom, giving me a mama-bear hug.

I filled our three cups, took out the milk and sugar substitute, and sat down with them. “Don’t you love a kitchen table?” I asked. “It’s the best place to talk.”

Mom’s eyebrow arched so high I thought it would hit the ceiling. “What are we discussing, Claire? Is it about Kayla?”

“Not exactly,” I replied slowly. “It’s just that last night, Jack and I were talking a-and I just want a second opinion. So, here’s the question: do you think I need counseling?”

The room became so quiet the proverbial pin could have dropped to the floor with a bang. I first sought my mother, but tears had already started to flow down her cheeks. God, I’m so selfish. Why hadn’t I thought she’d get upset?

“Okay. Forget about this conversation. I’ll be fine,” I said. “Judy, go to the store. Mom, did you bring your crocheting? I’ll work on something with you.”

“Oh, no,” said my feisty sister. “You asked a serious question. You deserve a serious answer.” She dug out a tissue from her purse and threw it at our mother. “Wipe up. Claire needs us.”

She focused her dark eyes on me. “I’m certainly not a shrink. But it seems to me, because you’ve asked us to come here, that the topic is bothering you. What about counseling? Do you think you need it?”

“I think you’re turning the question around.”

“Then let’s back up,” Judy said, raising her forefinger. “I wasn’t trying to play a game, sweetie. I was trying to help. So, maybe we should start at the beginning. What brought this on?”

I told them about Jack’s fears for the business. In our family, everyone knew everything, so I never considered I was telling tales. “And when I couldn’t commit to working with him, he said I should get counseling. As if he’s so perfect and has all the answers.”

“Aw, Claire. He’s just being Jack,” said my sister. “Trying to fix things. He always does that.”

While I break things. I killed Kayla. I destroyed this family because of dallying with Colombo. And we can never be fixed.

“Claire! What’s wrong? You look like you’re going to faint.” Mom’s voice. “Maybe she needs a medical doctor, not a psychologist.”

“Maybe she needs both.” Judy leaned over and stroked my hair. “Or maybe a visit to the hairdresser might help. You’re very gray, Claire. There’s no shine. You need to make an appointment. And look how thin you are. You definitely need to eat. Has Jack mentioned these things?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think he’s noticed. Everything is secondary to Barnes Construction.”

“Oh, come on. I know my brother-in-law. The man notices details. That’s why he’s got a stellar reputation in the home-building industry.”

“And we’ve got to help him save the company and keep that reputation,” said Mom as she clasped my hands. “I have an idea, Claire, and I think it’s a good one. Why don’t you and I work together for Jack? Who knows fabrics better than me after all my years in retail? I helped customers make selections all the time and then taught them to quilt or sew. You and I could be a design team. Furniture, fabric, wallpaper, paint colors. You know I love doing all that. And as for the customers, I’ll meet and greet and ease you in with each client so you won’t get buried.” Her hands tightened on mine. “I’m seventy years young, my dear, and have more energy than some women half my age. I can help you with this, Claire. And maybe help you with other things too.”

Barbara Anderson had always been a dynamo, and she knew her daughter well. She knew I was shyer and would rather work behind the scenes. I had to force myself into a sales persona while she’d never met a stranger.

Judy got on the bandwagon, proffering insane ideas. Mom and I could each decorate half a house. Or Mom could work with the husband, and I’d work with the wife. The artistic gene had definitely skipped her. Between the two of them, I didn’t know what to think or what to do. I walked to the back door and looked through the glass panes, seeing the studio just beyond the garage. I’d accomplished quite a bit since I’d first entered it again, but of course, everything there centered on Kayla. I’d had calm hours there, productive hours, and I didn’t want to leave.

But Jack needed me. I knew the business. But my life at Barnes Construction wouldn’t be calm. Did I owe him a try?

I turned to my two loving ladies. “Mom, you’ve worked your entire life and finally have a chance to play. I can’t ask you to give that up. You’ve earned a fun time.”

“Claire, my dear Claire, you’d do the same for your daughter if she needed you because that’s what mothers do. They help out whenever they can.”

She was right, of course, but I told her I’d think about her generous offer. I couldn’t make snap decisions, no matter how tempting. And I needed to take baby steps. Jumping into a critically important expansion, even with Mom, scared me. It was too huge a commitment.

Judy had the last word before leaving for her job. “So, you’ve got some choices to think about, Clarabelle. Four months is a short time. Of course the grieving is still fresh; in fact, it’s fresh for all of us. If you think you need counseling, there are support groups right here in the city for parents who’ve lost a child. On the other hand, maybe Jack’s right, and you should get back out into the world and interact with people. You can even do both. Your call. However, the bottom line is that you cannot continue to hide in the house or in the studio.”

“I’ll think about it.” But they didn’t understand. I wasn’t hiding from the world. I simply enjoyed working in the studio, which wasn’t anything new. They were right about a couple of other items, however. Like my hair. Like my weight. It didn’t matter what I looked like, did it? I sure didn’t deserve to look good or feel pretty, but I picked up the phone and made an appointment with Juanita. One baby step that would make everyone else feel good.

CLAIRE

“I’ll drive,” said Jack a week later as we stood at the kitchen counter, drinking coffee. He pocketed his keys.

“No, let’s take both vehicles.” We were heading for the office. It was my first day back, and I wanted the ability to come and go in my own reliable sedan. He drove a long-bed pickup. I rinsed my cup and reached for my purse.

“Planning an early escape?”

Only if I had to. “It’s a baby step, Jack. Just like I told you. I’ll do my best, but my brain is jumpy. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to focus.”

“And you’re afraid I won’t drive you home?”

Guilty as charged. “You might be too busy.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “I promise to take you if you want to leave early.”

Man, he was pushing it. Sighing, I followed him to the garage and got into his passenger seat. As we put the ten miles behind us and I studied our surroundings, the trip seemed like a shadowy memory from long ago. The passing scenery was almost that of a strange land and I, a tourist. So, my family had been right. I hadn’t ventured away from home and the immediate neighborhood since the funeral. Everyone had noticed except me.

My tension mounted the closer we got to Barnes Construction. The unknown scared me, and yet I knew every corner of the building. By the time Jack parked in his reserved spot, I was talking out loud to myself. “Stay calm. Stay calm.”

Jack turned the key, and quiet surrounded us. “You’ll be fine,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I’ll be nearby.”

The design center occupied its own wing in the main building. Jack was around the corner and down the hall.

“There’d better not be a welcoming committee,” I said. “No more condolences. I couldn’t handle that. I just want to creep into my office.”

A quick kiss. “I took care of it.” Another kiss. “I’m planning to stay put today. No site visits.”

“Oh...I’m sorry...” I’d made it a point never to interfere on the construction side of the business. My husband was truly the Jack-of-all-trades.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Today, I’m investing in you.”

I bit my lip. He’d probably lose on this investment. We both knew I didn’t want to be there, but I owed him a try.
Suck it up, girl. You can do it. You used to love the work, and you’re good at it.
In the beginning, when Jack started the venture, I was as excited as he and at his side with a million ideas beyond decorating. I altered blueprints and changed layouts too, as long as the construction cost didn’t change.

Now, I just wanted to hide away.

Walking into the lobby, I stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice Mary Toomy, the front-office face of the company, as she set up for the day. Instead, I shadowed Jack and headed down the familiar hallway and around the corner. He stepped aside as I walked through the door of the design center. I passed the countertop and carpet sample displays. Passed the tile and cabinet choices, as well as the racks of bathroom and kitchen fixtures. Choices, choices. A million choices. How would I handle this again?

As soon as I entered my own office, I smelled the lemony furniture polish and had to admit the place sparkled. On the large oak desk stood a vase of fresh-cut daisies, the perfect choice. Jack had heard me call them a happy flower at least a thousand times. Inch by inch, my gaze traveled around the familiar room, the room I used to call my home away from home. Sample books of wallpaper and fabrics lined the shelves; some were piled on the floor. Lifting them was akin to lifting weights—great for keeping muscles taut.

A set of blueprints stretched across the desk with pads, pencils, and a calculator alongside. I absorbed everything, taking my time, studying the walls where framed pictures of decorated rooms were showcased. I usually updated the displays regularly, but these pictures had hung for a long time.

Finally, I nodded, pulled out my chair, and sat down. Automatically opening the bottom right drawer, I threw my purse inside. The instinctive routine overrode my five-month absence.

I plunged ahead. “So, tell me about this new model,” I said, pointing at the blueprint.

“I think I’ll stick to the old one. She suits me just fine.” Jack’s eyes gleamed in a shade of blue I’d tried to reproduce a hundred times but couldn’t.

I smiled at his joke, but a mass of doubts tumbled inside me, doubts Jack didn’t want to acknowledge. The man knew darn well what it took to provide the individualized decorating services our buyers deserved. I needed to be friendly, to listen, concentrate, and come up with selections and ideas. I hadn’t had an original idea in...a very long time. The challenges ahead made me nervous, and I almost asked for one of his antacids.

Within an hour, I knew Jack should have believed me. I’d promised a dozen callbacks by day’s end. I wasn’t familiar with the new construction sites, the locations, the buyers’ names. I wasn’t familiar with our four new models and hadn’t memorized the room measurements. These buyers wanted the decorating consultation they’d been promised.

Jack wasn’t in his office, so I called Mary at the reception desk. “I’m drowning here. And I just remembered about the temp. Has Jack let her go already? And if he has, who’s been fielding these calls?”

The woman paused. “Well, either Jack or the site managers. Sometimes me. And...and that local decorator was more of a kitchen designer. She wasn’t very good with anything else. We’re so happy you’re back, Claire. In fact, there’s a couple here right now who need help. They’re very excited. They’ve already bought a home in the Grand Lakes subdivision. Get it?” she whispered into the phone.