Hope Springs (23 page)

Kory looked at her, then away, as if debating whether he wanted to answer. He wrapped his hands around his mug and stared into it. “She and I entered the firm the same year, two out of twelve new associates in litigation—and two of only six black associates out of a hundred in litigation.”

“How large is the firm?”

“About five hundred.”

Sara Ann topped off their cups. Kory blew off the steam and took a sip.

“You know how it is,” he said. “As the only black first-years, she and I gravitated toward one another for advice, information, and whatnot. We'd go to lunch.” He shrugged. “The nature of our job meant we worked into the evenings, weekends, so we were together all the time. It was easy to fall into a relationship.”

“So the environment made it easy. But what was it about
her
?”

He took a moment. “She was smart, sure of herself. She knew exactly what to say and how to get her way. I was caught up in the hype back then. I'd been heavily recruited by top firms, saw myself making partner, becoming a rainmaker, serving on the firmwide management committee . . . So her style was appealing to me. Also didn't hurt that she was attractive.”

Janelle had been tempted to Google her but had decided against it. “So you got married, two up-and-coming power players . . . and what happened?”

“We were fine the first year and a half or so, until I started talking about having a baby. Whenever I brought it up, we'd argue. I assumed Shelley wanted kids like I did, but she didn't. Said they would stifle her career goals. We finally compromised. She said she'd have one, and I said I'd give up my vision of three or four. I thought we were cool. Then Dee was born and—”

Sara Ann appeared and dished out their meals with a flourish. “And two orders of sausage,” she said to herself, checking the ticket to be sure she'd gotten everything. Satisfied, she looked up with a smile. “Call me if it's anything less than yummy.”

Janelle smiled back. “It certainly looks it.”

“Thanks, Sara Ann,” Kory said. He prayed over their food and continued. “So, yeah, Dee . . . she changed everything.”

“How so?” Janelle poured hot syrup on her hotcakes, then passed it to him.

Kory poured the syrup, then peppered his eggs and grits. “I didn't realize how much I could love a little baby. My world no longer revolved around the firm. I didn't want to work every night and every weekend. I wanted to see the sparkle in Dee's eyes when she looked at her daddy. I wanted to hear the belly laugh when I tickled her.”

“And that was a problem?”

“I don't think it was a problem with my supervisors in litigation,” he said. “At least at first. When I was working, I was focused and gave my all. Clients complimented my work and gave me new matters to handle. I was doing well.” He forked up some pancakes. “But I was no longer concerned with internal politics. I wasn't going to play the game of staying till nine at night just to look committed. I stopped going to cocktail parties and all the other schmooze events with senior partners.”

“But Shelley was doing all that?”

He nodded. “And then some. Somewhere in there she started her affair with the head of litigation.”

They sank into a silence, eating, thinking. A sadness came over Janelle as she thought of the hopes and dreams people carried into marriage.
Were they ever realized?

Kory wiped his mouth, stared at Janelle a moment. “So what was it about David that made you want to marry him?”

She smiled at the question. “He was silly. He could find humor and enjoyment in almost anything, and I loved that about him. I could never stay down for long when he was around.”

“How did you meet?”

“A girlfriend at church started dating someone, and she kept telling me he had this friend . . .” Janelle gave him a look as she drank some juice. “You know how that is. I said I wasn't interested, wasn't doing a blind date. So she had a cookout and made sure we were both there.”

Kory smiled. “And it was love at first sight?”

“More like we hit it off as friends, and the more I got to know him, the more I saw he was the real deal—great to be around, sincere about his faith, hardworking. It was easy to love him.”

Kory was almost done with his food. “What's your favorite memory of you, David, and the kids?”

“Hmm, we have a lot of good memories actually.” She pushed her plate aside. “Father's Day four years ago has to be near the top of the list. I told David to stay in bed because I'd be making breakfast and bringing it to him. But soon as I went to the kitchen, Tiffany started crying, so I got her from her crib and fed her. Soon as I'm done feeding her, Daniel says he doesn't feel well and wants me to sit with him and read him a story.” She laughed. “By the time I'm done with all that, David had breakfast made and on a tray for
me
.”

“Aw, that's awesome. Definitely a great guy.” He paused, his eyes warm. “I can't imagine having a marriage like that and then losing my spouse. How have you coped? That is, if you don't mind talking about it.”

“I don't mind,” she said. “It was really hard at first. The first Christmas after David died, I didn't get out of bed until the afternoon. My parents were there, but I didn't want to talk. Phone kept ringing—Libby, Grandma Geri, Aunt Gladys—but I wouldn't talk to them either. I didn't feel like anyone could understand.”

“Did you see a counselor?”

“For a while, yes. He said if I couldn't express how I felt to friends and family, I should write it in a journal. That helped some.”

“You still journal?”

“Not as much.” Time with her journal had really decreased since she'd moved to Hope Springs. She looked at him. “They say divorce can bring almost as much grief as death.”

Kory pondered it. “I can see that. Except the memories you're left with are good ones.”

“You and Shelley had good memories too.”

He let that one hang, staring at the activity in the diner.

“I started praying for her,” Janelle said.

Kory looked at her. “Why?”

“She can't be happy living like that, not deep down. She's trying to fill a void that only Jesus can fill.”

Kory stared away again.

And Janelle stared at him. Life was strange. She'd had a treasure in David that was taken away. Shelley had a treasure in Kory and let it go. Could Shelley not see the treasure that Kory was?

Seemed awfully plain to Janelle.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Wednesday, January 20

S
tephanie was having a blast with role reversal.

Daniel had awakened this morning with the flu, which triggered an episode of sadness because he wanted his dad who'd had special ways of caring for him when he was sick. Janelle didn't want to leave him, so Stephanie assured her she'd be fine taking Grandma Geri to the hospital. She'd had an enjoyable time with her on Sunday, which surprised her. For some reason at the start of all of this, Stephanie had regarded time with her grandmother as obligatory, sacrificial even. But the more she got to know her, the more she realized what a pistol Grandma Geri was. When she mentioned it to her dad, Bruce laughed. “You didn't know? You take after your grandmother.”

“Over here, Grandma.” Stephanie guided her down a different aisle. “The designer sunglasses are this way.” Her phone rang and she pulled it out and answered. “Hey, Janelle, what's up?”

“Everything okay? I thought you'd be home by now since it was just a checkup.”

“Nope. Doctor said she looks good after her first round. She'll have a CT scan in about ten days. Said we'll know more then.”

“Oh, good. So where are you?”

“At the mall.”

“The mall? Are you sure Grandma's got enough strength to walk around a mall?”

“The way she's dragging me to and fro? I'm thinking yeah.”

Grandma Geri cast an amused glance at Stephanie, but her focus was on the sunglasses in the case.

Stephanie added, “You know she's been losing weight, so I got her some pants and tops. She'll be stylin'.”

Janelle laughed. “That's cool, Steph. Can't wait to see.”

“I'd like to see that pair on the left.” Grandma Geri pointed out a pair to the salesclerk.

“Ooh, those are fly, Grandma.”

“What are y'all shopping for now?” Janelle asked.

Stephanie hesitated. “Designer sunglasses.”

“Designer sunglasses? For Grandma Geri? Stephanie, that's a nice idea, but she doesn't need that.”

“Uh, Stephanie had nothing to do with it. This is all Geraldine Sanders.”

Grandma Geri looked back at her, waiting for the clerk to unlock the case. “I told you she'd think I was crazy, didn't I?”

“Is Grandma talking about me?” Janelle said.

“Yep.” Stephanie moved closer to watch the try-on.

“Okay,” Janelle said. “Why is Grandma Geri looking for a pair of designer sunglasses?”

“I can't exactly tell you.”

“What do you mean, you can't exactly—”

“One sec, Janelle . . .” Stephanie lowered her phone a little to hear what the salesclerk was saying.

“You're sure, that pair there? Those are rather expensive.”

“Ma'am.” Stephanie smiled. She'd learned a lot on the job. “We're well aware of the expense, as I have a pair myself. But if you'd prefer we take our business elsewhere . . .”

The woman had the glasses out of the case and in Grandma Geri's hand in five seconds flat.

Grandma Geri put them on and turned to Stephanie.

“Those are the bomb. Look at you! Here, look in the mirror.”

Stephanie put the mirror in front of her, and Grandma Geri profiled this way and that. A big smile came across her face.

“This
is
crazy, isn't it? I mean, I'm eighty-six years old. It's a waste of money.”

“It's my money—well, Lindell's—but I'm sure I can say for both of us, go for it.” Stephanie reached in her purse, got a credit card, and handed it to the woman.

“Stephanie!”

“Oh.” Stephanie brought the phone back to her ear. “Sorry.”

“I'm waiting to hear why you can't tell me.”

Stephanie sighed. “Grandma, we have to tell her.”

Grandma Geri had put the sunglasses back on, checking herself out in the mirror while they were being rung up. She waved a hand at Stephanie. “You go ahead and tell her now.”

“All right, this is the deal. Grandma was talking to someone at the hospital who's going through the same treatment for cancer, and the woman told Grandma about her bucket list.”

“What's a bucket list?”

“You know that saying about kicking the bucket? A bucket list is a list people make of everything they want to do before they die.”

“You are kidding me.”

Janelle didn't sound happy, just as Grandma Geri had predicted.

“That is completely morbid and repulsive and utterly—you mean Grandma wanted to make a bucket list and you actually let her?”

“She didn't make a list. She just told me a story about Grandpa Elwood not letting her get the designer sunglasses she wanted decades ago.”

“I actually remember that,” Janelle said. “Grandpa said he wouldn't pay a lot of money for sunglasses because all Grandma would do is sit on them and break them. And Grandma had an attitude for days.”

“Well, she said if she put together a dream list, that would be on there. And I said let's do it.”

Janelle was quiet a moment. “I just hate the idea of Grandma thinking she has to do this thing or that thing before she ‘kicks the bucket.' That creeps me out.”

“Yeah, we knew you wouldn't like it.”

“On the other hand . . . I think it's cute the two of you went shopping and got her some sunglasses.” She let go a chuckle. “
That's
what I've got to see.”