Answered prayers

2

ALEX HAD ALREADY LEFT FOR CHICAGO WHEN FAITH woke up with the alarm at eight o'clock the next day. The funeral was at eleven, and she had promised to pick up her stepsister in the limousine. Allison was fourteen years older than Faith, and at sixty-one, she seemed a thousand years old to her. She had children who were nearly Faith's age. The oldest of them was forty, and Faith scarcely knew them. They all lived in Canada, in the north of Quebec. Allison had never had any particular bond to her stepmother, nor to Faith. She was already married and had children herself when her father and Faith's mother had married. And her stepsiblings, Faith and Jack, were of no great interest to her.
Allison and her father weren't close, for the same reason he hadn't been close to Faith. Charles Armstrong had no particular use for girls. He'd been a graduate of West Point, and career army. He'd been forty-nine when he married Faith's mother, and recently retired. And he had treated his stepchildren like West Point cadets. He inspected their rooms, gave them orders, meted out punishments, and had left Jack out in the rain all night once for failing a test at school. Faith had let him in her window and hidden him under her bed, and in the morning they had splashed water on him so his clothes would be wet, and he'd sneaked back outside when the sun came up. Charles hadn't caught on to it, but there would have been hell to pay if he had.
Their mother had never intervened on their behalf, just as she hadn't in their previous life. She avoided confrontation at all costs. All she wanted was a peaceful life. She'd had a difficult, emotionally barren first marriage. And two years of dire financial problems when her husband died and left her drowning in debt. She was grateful that Charles had rescued her, and was willing to take care of her and Jack and Faith. She didn't care that Charles seldom spoke to her, except to bark orders at her. All he seemed to want from her was that she was there and cleaned his house. And all he wanted from Faith and Jack was for them to follow orders, get good grades, and keep out of sight. It had helped set the stage for both of them to marry people who were as removed and unemotional as Charles and their mother had been, and Faith's father before that.
Faith and Jack had talked a lot about it the year before he died, when he and his wife had separated yet again. He and Faith had both been aware of the parallels in the relationships they had. They had married cool, aloof people, who were neither affectionate nor warm. Although Alex had seemed affectionate at first. But he had cooled rapidly by the time Eloise was born. And it had been a progressive cooling process after that, it was just the way he was. Faith no longer resented it, but accepted him as he was.
Alex was also far more sophisticated than Charles had been. Charles had been more of a rugged man's man, a West Point man to the bitter end. But in some ways, over the years, Alex had begun to remind her of Charles. Her mother had been long suffering. It was her defense to keep the world at bay. She managed to convey that life had disappointed her, without saying it in words, and yet she did what was expected of her, and had been married to Charles for thirty-four years when she died. She never seemed happy to Jack or Faith. It was not a marriage Faith would have wanted, and yet in an odd way, it was the one Faith herself had now. She wondered why she hadn't seen that when she and Alex married. And Debbie, Jack's wife, was just as cold to him.
Their history was what had made Faith determined to be overtly affectionate with Zoe and Eloise. She had gone to great efforts to go overboard the other way, and with Alex as well at first. But he had made it clear over the years that affection was something that not only made him uncomfortable, but that he didn't need from her. He needed an orderly life, a great career, a handsome house, and a wife who was there for him, doing what he expected her to do, while he conquered the business world. But he didn't want the little frills and flourishes and warmth Faith would have liked to offer him. So instead, all the love that came bubbling out of her, she lavished on her brother and her girls.
The limousine was waiting outside the house, when Faith left at ten-fifteen. She was wearing a black dress and coat, black stockings and high-heeled black leather pumps. Her blond hair was swept back in the same bun she had worn the day before, and the only jewelry she wore was the pair of pearl earrings that had been her mother's and that Charles had given her. Faith looked sedate and subdued and dignified, and beautiful, and despite what she wore, she looked younger than her years. There was something open and kind about her face, and she had an easy smile and gentle ways. When she wore blue jeans and her hair down, she still looked almost as young as her girls. Whatever sorrows she had had in recent years had not appeared on her face, and as she slipped onto the backseat of the limousine, she was thinking of Jack. He would somehow have managed to be irreverent, even about this somber day. He would have made it easier for her, and found some subtle levity or absurdity that he would have whispered to her. Just thinking of it, as they drove to Allison's hotel, made her smile in spite of herself. He had been full of mischief right up to his untimely and unexpected end.
Jack had been an attorney in a Wall Street law firm, and had been much loved by his colleagues and friends. Only Alex had found him undignified and had issues with him. The two men were at opposite poles on every subject, and Jack had found his brother-in-law tedious, although he rarely said as much, out of deference to her. He knew there was no point discussing it, Faith didn't like his wife either, and talking about it just made it more awkward for him. Their spouses were a taboo subject most of the time, except when they themselves chose to bring it up. And Jack was wise enough to offer as little criticism as possible, out of his deep love for her.
Allison and her husband were waiting outside the hotel when Faith stopped to pick them up. They looked like solid, decent older people. They had run a large prosperous farm in Canada for forty years. They had three sons nearly Faith's age who helped them run it, but hadn't come to the funeral, and a daughter who had stayed home because she was ill. Allison and her husband Bertrand seemed uncomfortable with Faith. She was sleek and citified, and although Allison had known her since she was a child, they had scarcely seen each other once adults, and their lives were centered in different worlds.
They inquired about Alex, and she explained that he had to fly to Chicago for the day. Allison nodded, she had only met him a few times, and he was like someone from another planet to her. They had been of no interest to him, and he had made no effort to talk to them when they met, and again when he saw them at Faith's mother's funeral. He knew that Allison meant little to Faith. They were virtually strangers to each other after being related for more than three decades, and Faith couldn't help wondering as they drove to the church if they would ever see each other again after today. She had no real attachment to her, and knowing that increased her sense of loss again. Allison was yet another person who was about to slip away from her. Her entire life seemed to be a peeling-off process. No one was entering her life anymore, everyone was exiting. Jack, her mother, Charles, her daughters in their own way … now Allison … she had begun to feel in recent months as though everything in her life now was about loss. And Charles's death, however timely and appropriate at eighty-four, seemed like yet another blow. Another departure. Another person moving away from her, abandoning her.
She and Allison and Bertrand said little to each other on the way to church. Allison seemed quiet and composed. She and her father rarely saw each other, and had never been close. She told Faith she wanted to invite people to come back to the hotel afterward, if there was anyone she wanted to include. She had taken over a large sitting room, and ordered a buffet, which Faith thought was a nice touch, and thoughtful of her when she offered it. It would be nice for their parents' friends.
“I'm not sure how many people I'll know,” Faith said honestly.
The obituary they'd given to the newspaper had said where the funeral was, and she had called a number of her parents' friends. But many of their old friends were gone, or in convalescent homes. Charles and her mother had lived in Connecticut for many years, and had had a number of friends there, but after her mother's death, Faith had moved Charles into town, to a care facility, and he had been ill for most of the past year. His death had come as no surprise to any of them. But it was hard to say how many people would come to his funeral service. Faith suspected that attendance would be pretty thin. They were going to the cemetery immediately after the funeral, to bury him. And she and Allison agreed that more than likely by one-thirty they'd be back at the hotel. They anticipated greeting people at the hotel for the remainder of the afternoon, and Allison and Bertrand were flying back to Canada at eight o'clock that night. Faith and Alex were going to a business dinner, which would be a good diversion after a depressing afternoon.
All three of them were surprised, as they entered a side door of the church, how many people had actually come and were already sitting in the pews. Charles had been a respected member of the community in the small town in Connecticut where they had lived. Surprisingly, Faith always felt, people had been fond of him, they thought him decent and upstanding, and even interesting. He had been stationed in some exotic places in his youth, and often had tales to tell, although he didn't share much of that with his wife or stepchildren. But people beyond his immediate circle had always thought well of Charles. He was not nearly as chilly to them, and made considerably more effort with them, which had always seemed odd to Faith. Particularly since he and her mother hardly ever seemed to exchange more than a few words, and she could never understand what her mother had seen in him, other than that he had been a solid citizen, and at one time a nice-looking man. But as far as Faith was concerned, her stepfather had been utterly without charisma or charm.
The service began punctually at eleven o'clock. Faith and Allison had chosen the music the day before, and the casket stood a few feet from them, under a large spray of white flowers. Faith had used her own florist for the flowers in the church, and offered to pay for it, and Allison was relieved. The service was a simple one, he had been Presbyterian, although Faith's mother was Catholic, and they had been married in the Catholic Church. But neither of them had been staunch about their faith, although Faith was, and Jack had been as well. They had often gone to mass together right up until the time he died.
The sermon was brief and impersonal, as seemed appropriate. Charles wasn't the kind of man about whom one would wax poetic or tell anecdotes. The minister listed his accomplishments, talked about his West Point background, his military career, and referred to Allison and Faith. He got confused, and assumed they were both Charles's daughters, but Allison didn't seem to mind. Everyone sang “Amazing Grace” at the end, and as they did, Faith felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks. For some reason, she had just had a vision of Charles when he was young, one time when they were children and he had taken them to a lake, and was trying to teach Jack to fish. Jack had had big bright eyes, and had looked lovingly at Charles for one of the rare times he did, when Charles wasn't berating them, and all she could see in her mind's eye, was Charles standing over Jack, showing him how to hold the pole, and Jack grinning from ear to ear…. It made her miss Jack far more than Charles, as she closed her eyes, and could almost feel the August sunshine from that day on her face. It made her heart ache thinking back to that time. It was all gone now, part of a lifetime of memories.
She couldn't stop the tears as they continued to slide down her face, and a sob caught in her throat, as the pallbearers from the funeral home slowly rolled the casket away, just as they had Jack's three years before. His friends had been his pallbearers, and he'd had so many of them. There had been hundreds of people at his funeral, and for Faith, the memory was only a vague blur. She had been so distraught that day that she could hardly remember it, which was merciful. But as she watched Charles's casket roll slowly down the aisle, it brought back agonizing memories for her, particularly as she followed Allison and Bertrand down the aisle. They stopped in the vestibule as the pallbearers took the casket to the hearse, and Charles's three surviving relatives waited to shake hands with friends.
They were halfway through the hundred or so mourners who had come, when Faith heard a voice behind her that was so familiar, all she could do was stare. She had been shaking the hand of a woman who had been one of her mother's friends, and before she could turn, he said a single word.
“Fred.” It brought a smile to her face in spite of the circumstances, and she was beaming as she turned. There was only one person in the world who had called her that, other than Jack. In fact, he had created it, and Jack had adopted it. It had been her nickname for all of her growing-up years. He had always said Faith was a stupid name for a girl, so he had called her Fred.
Faith turned with a broad smile and looked at him, unable to believe that he was there. He hadn't changed a bit in years, although he was the same age as Jack, and two years older than she. At forty-nine, Brad Patterson still looked like a kid when he grinned. He had green eyes the same color as hers, a long lanky body that had always been too thin, but seemed more reasonably so now. She had always told him he had legs like a spider when they were kids. He had a smile that stretched across his face irresistibly, a cleft chin, and a shock of dark hair that had not yet begun to go gray. Brad had been her brother's very best friend from the time he was ten. Faith had been eight the first time she had laid eyes on him, and he had painted her blond hair green for St. Patrick's Day. She, Jack, and Brad had thought it a terrific idea, although her mother had been considerably less amused.
Brad had come up with a million plots and pranks over the years, he and Jack had gotten into everything, and been inseparable for a dozen years. They had gone to Penn State together, and only separated finally when they both went off to law school. Brad had gone to Boalt at Berkeley, and Jack to Duke. Brad had fallen in love with a girl out there, and eventually stayed on the West Coast, and then somehow real life intervened. He married and had kids, he had twin sons roughly the same age as Eloise. And as time went by, Jack flew out to see him once every couple of years. But Brad stopped coming east. It had been years since Faith had seen him when he came to her brother's funeral. They had both been devastated and spent hours talking to each other about him, as though by telling everything they remembered about Jack they could bring him back to them. Brad had come back to the house with her, and met Zoe and Eloise. The girls had been fifteen and twenty-one then. Alex hadn't been terribly impressed by him, he thought him too West Coast, as he put it, and was dismissive of him, mostly because he was Jack's friend. But Faith didn't care, all she wanted to do was cling to him. She and Brad had exchanged letters for a year, and lost touch again finally. His own life seemed to devour him. She hadn't seen him since Jack's funeral, and hadn't heard from him in nearly two years. She was stunned to see him standing there, at Charles's memorial, and couldn't imagine how he had come to be there.
“What are you doing here?” The smile they exchanged could have lit up the entire church.
“I was in town for a conference, and saw the obituary in the paper yesterday. I thought it would be a decent thing to come.” He smiled at her just as he had nearly forty years before. He still looked like a boy to her, and in her heart he always would be, no matter how old he got. Their youth was all she saw. He was one of the three musketeers she and Jack had formed with him. And she smiled up at him, grateful that he had come. It made it easier for her suddenly, and made her feel as though Jack was also in their midst. “And I knew I'd see you here. You look great, Fred.”
He had teased her mercilessly as a kid, and she had had a crush on him when she was about thirteen. But by the time he left for college three years later, she had gotten over it, and was dating boys her own age. But he had remained one of her best friends. It saddened her that they had lost contact finally, but it was hard to maintain their friendship over distance and time. All they had was history, and the enormous affection she still felt for him. They both treasured endless memories of the years they had shared growing up.
She invited him to the hotel afterward, and he nodded, his eyes seeming to drink her in. He looked as moved to see her as she was to see him.
“I'll be there,” he said reassuringly. He had seen her crying as she sang “Amazing Grace,” as he had as well. He couldn't hear the hymn anymore without thinking of Jack's funeral three years before. It had been one of the darkest days of his life.
“It was nice of you to come,” she said, smiling up at him, as people on the receiving line moved around them to shake hands with Allison and Bertrand.
“Charlie was a nice old guy,” Brad said benevolently. He had some fond memories of him, fonder than Faith's. But he and Jack had done things with him Faith had never had the chance to do, like deer hunting, and fishing at the lake. He had been good about things like that, and it would never have dawned on him to include Faith. “Besides,” Brad added, “I wanted to see you. How are your girls?” he asked, and she smiled again.
“Great. But gone unfortunately. Eloise is in London, and Zoe is a freshman at Brown. How are the twins?”
“Terrific. They're spending a year in Africa, chasing lions around. They graduated from UCLA in June and took off right after that. I want to go see them one of these days, but I haven't had time.” Faith knew he had gone out on his own a few years before. He was doing some sort of community legal defense work, working with minors convicted of felonies. Jack had told her about it just before he died, and she and Brad had talked about it at the funeral. But she didn't have time to ask him about work now, Allison was signaling to her that they had to leave for the cemetery. Faith nodded and looked back at Brad.
“I've got to go…. Will you come to the hotel afterward? The Waldorf.” She looked like a kid again as she reminded him, and he smiled. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and give her a hug. Something in her eyes told him she'd seen hard times. He wasn't sure if it was Jack or something else, but there was something powerful and sad in her eyes that tugged at his heart, like when she was a kid and she looked sad. He had always felt protective of her and still did.
“I'll be there.” Faith nodded, and two people came between them and offered their condolences as they shook her hand.
Brad signaled good-bye to her, and then drifted off. He had some errands to do before he went to the hotel. He didn't come to New York often, and he wanted to stop at a few favorite haunts, and go to a couple of the shops he liked. He would have preferred to go to the cemetery with her, to offer his support, but he didn't want to intrude. He knew it would be hard for her, because of Jack. Funerals and cemeteries were all too familiar to her now. And he realized as he watched her get into the limousine and drive off behind the hearse that he hadn't seen her husband with her. He wondered if something had happened between them—if they'd split up—and if that was the sadness he'd seen in her eyes. He and Jack had talked about it after Faith had married, neither of them had been enthused about Alex. He had always seemed distant and cold to them, even then, but Faith had insisted to Jack he was a great guy and warmer than he looked. And Brad was no longer close enough to her now to ask how things were. But he found it odd that Alex wasn't there.
The brief interlude at the cemetery was perfunctory and grim. The minister read several psalms, and Allison said a few words, while her husband stood silently by. And then each of them left a rose on Charles's casket, and walked away quietly. They had agreed not to stay while it was lowered into the ground. It would have been too sad. Only a handful of people had come, and half an hour later, they were on their way back to the city again. It was a brilliantly sunny October day, and Faith was grateful at least that it hadn't rained. It had poured the day they'd buried Jack, which made it that much worse. Not that sunshine would have helped. Nothing would. It was without question the most agonizing day of her life.
Burying Charles was different for her. It was quiet and sad. It made her think of her mother, the marriage they'd had, and the childhood she and Jack had spent with them. Based on her experience with her own father, Faith had been afraid of Charles at first, when her mother had married him. She wasn't sure what to expect. But she had been relieved to find early on that he had no sexual interest in her, although he had been unyielding and stern. He had often shouted at them. The first time he'd done it, she had cried, and Jack had held her hand. Her mother had said nothing to Charles in their defense. She had never wanted to make waves, and hadn't stuck up for them, which seemed like a betrayal to Faith. All her mother had wanted was for everything to work, no matter what it took, whether she had to sacrifice herself or Faith or Jack. She deferred to Charles about everything, even her own kids. It was Jack who had always protected Faith. He had been her hero all his life until the day he died. It made her think of Brad again, and how pleased she was that he had come. Seeing him at the hotel was something to look forward to, as she tried to turn her thoughts away from painful memories. There were far too many of them.
The car pulled up outside the hotel, and Faith and Allison agreed to let it go then. Faith could either walk or take a taxi home, and Allison and Bertrand were going to take a cab to the airport at six o'clock. All they had left to do now as part of Charles's funeral was spend a few hours with his friends. As they walked into the hotel, Allison was still holding the folded flag they had taken off his casket at the cemetery. It made her look like a war widow, Faith thought, as they walked across the lobby, and took the elevator upstairs.
The room Allison had rented for the afternoon was simple and elegant. There was a grand piano in one corner, and a buffet covered with sandwiches, cookies, and cakes. There was coffee, and a waiter offering people drinks and wine. What she had provided to eat was basic but adequate, and the first people began to arrive almost as soon as Faith hung up her coat. And she was relieved to see that Brad was the third one there.
She just stood and smiled at him for a minute as he crossed the room to her. It made her think of how gangly he had been as a kid. He had always towered over her, and when she was really young, he used to throw her in the air, or push her on the swing. He had always been part of the furniture of her childhood and teenage years.
“How did it go?” he asked her, as a waiter handed him a glass of white wine and he took a sip.
“Okay. I don't do funerals anymore, if I can help it. But I couldn't avoid this. I hate cemeteries,” she said, with a fleeting frown, and they both knew why.
“Yeah, I don't like them much myself. Where's Alex, by the way?” Their eyes met and held, he was asking her more than just that, and she sighed and then smiled.
“He had to go to Chicago to see clients. He'll be back tonight.” There was nothing critical in her tone, but Brad thought he should have been there, for her. It annoyed him on her behalf that he wasn't, but he was also glad. It gave him time alone with her, to talk and catch up. It had been far too long since they'd talked.
“That's too bad. That he's in Chicago, I mean. How's everything else?” He perched on the arm of a chair, and was almost the same height as Faith as she stood and they talked.
“Okay, I guess. It's weird having both of the girls gone. I don't know what to do with myself. I keep saying I'll go to work, but I don't have any marketable skills. I was thinking of going back to law school, but Alex thinks I'm nuts. He says I'm too old to go back to school, or pass the bar.”
“At your age? Lots of people do. Why wouldn't you?”
“He says by the time I pass the bar, no one will hire me anyway.” Just hearing her say it annoyed Brad. He had never liked Alex anyway.
“That's nonsense. You'd make a great lawyer, Fred. I think you should.” She smiled in answer, and didn't try to explain to him how impossible it would be to convince Alex of that. He was a stubborn man.
“Alex thinks I should just stay home and relax, take bridge lessons, or something like that.” It sounded deadly to her, and Brad agreed. As he looked at her, he was remembering her long blond hair when she was a kid, and wished he could pull the pins out of her bun, for old times' sake. He had always loved her hair.
“You'd be bored to death. I think school is definitely the right idea. You ought to look into it.” It was exactly what Jack would have said, and it sparked her enthusiasm again, as a fresh group of people walked in, and she went to greet them. She recognized several faces, and thanked them for coming, and a little while later, she came back to Brad.
“So what's Pam doing these days? Are you working together at all anymore?” They were both attorneys, and had met at law school, although Pam had been a year ahead of him. Jack had gone to their wedding and been best man, but Faith had only met her once. Pam had seemed hard and more than a little daunting to her, but smart certainly. Brad had definitely met his match in Pam.
“Hell, no,” Brad grinned. “She's still working in her father's firm. He keeps threatening to retire, but he's seventy-nine and hasn't yet, so I don't know if he ever will. She's a litigator and she thinks I'm insane for what I do.”
“Why?” What he did had sounded both interesting and noble to Faith. According to what he'd said the last time they met, he was defending a wide assortment of kids accused of some fairly major crimes.
“No money, for one thing. Most of the time I'm court appointed, the rest of the time I don't get paid, or not enough, according to her. I work days, nights, and weekends. She thinks I gave up a cushy job in her father's firm to hang around in county jail with a bunch of kids who are allegedly unsalvageable. The nice thing is that some of them actually do turn their lives around, if they get a break. It's interesting work. And it works better for me. You can come and clerk for me one summer if you go to law school,” he teased. “You'd have to work for free of course, or you could pay me, that would work.” They both laughed as they wandered to the buffet, and Allison introduced them to a couple Faith had never met. The crowd had begun to thin by midafternoon, but Allison thought they should stay till five out of courtesy, in case others arrived late. It gave Faith a chance to spend more time catching up with Brad.
“So what else, Fred?” Brad teased as they sat down again, after eating egg salad sandwiches with watercress, some strawberries, and petits fours. “Any misdemeanors? Felonies? Parking violations? Affairs? You can confess to me, I'm bound by confidentiality,” he said, and she laughed. He realized as he sat with her, how much he had missed seeing her in the last several years. It was so easy to drift apart with distance and time and busy lives, his at least. And yet the moment they were together, it was as though nothing had changed. And if anything, Jack's absence brought them closer together and provided a tighter bond. “So, what's the deal?” he pressed.
“No deal,” she said, crossing her legs, as they faced each other. He was still an incredibly handsome man, she realized, as she looked at him. All the girls had always been crazy about him, although it was always Jack who had gotten the best girls. He had had irresistible charm, and in some ways, Brad was shy. Faith had always loved that about him. “You'll be very disappointed. No misdemeanors or felonies. I lead a pretty boring life. That's why I want to go back to school. I've been out of a job since Zoe left for Brown. Alex is busy all the time. Ellie's gone too. That's about it. I do some charity work from time to time, organizing fundraisers. I can do that in my sleep.”
“What about affairs, Fred? You've been married for a hell of a long time. Don't tell me you've behaved all this time!” He'd done the same thing to her when they were kids. He'd always wormed all her secrets out of her, with his big brotherly way, and then teased her about them afterward. But this time she truly had nothing to tell.
“I told you. I lead a very boring life. And no, I've never had an affair. I don't think I'd have the guts, too complicated, besides, I've never seen anyone I want. I've just kept busy with the girls. It sounds embarrassingly dull, doesn't it?” She laughed and he grinned, his green eyes locked on her.
“You must still be madly in love with Alex then,” he said, and she looked away thoughtfully and then back at him. It was odd, all the same intimacy was still there between them, even after all these years. She trusted him, who he was now, and all he'd ever been to her. And he was standing in for Jack in a way. In some ways, at certain times, she had been even closer to Brad than to her brother. She and Brad were very similar. Jack had always been more outgoing than either of them, and more outrageous at times. She and Brad had always had a lot in common. And she had told him things in the past that she hadn't even told Jack.
“No,” she said honestly, “I'm not in love with him. Not ‘madly,’ as you put it. I love him, he's a good person, a good father, a good man. We're good friends. Actually, I'm not sure what we are anymore. I think his work is his first love, and he doesn't need anyone close to him, he never has. We live in the same house, share children, go out together to business dinners, and see friends occasionally. Most of the time, we go about our own lives. We don't have much to say to each other anymore.” He realized then that that was the sadness he had seen in her eyes.
“That sounds lonely, Fred,” he said quietly, although his own life was no better than hers. He and Pam had scarcely been more than acquaintances for years. Things hadn't been going well between them when he went out on his own professionally, and she had yet to forgive him for leaving her father's firm. She viewed it as an abandonment, and a betrayal of sorts. She had taken it personally, and couldn't see that what he was doing was better for him. It was diametrically opposed to everything she wanted and believed, for either of them. Making money, lots of it, was far more important to her.
“It is lonely sometimes.” She didn't want to tell him it was lonely all the time. It didn't seem fair to Alex to say that, and it sounded pitiful to admit that to Brad. “He's a very solitary person, and we have different needs. I love people, being with the kids, I used to love seeing friends, going to movies, hanging out together on weekends. We kind of lost all that. Alex can't see the point in doing anything unless it's related to his work.” Even his golf games were with clients, or people he wanted to get to know, and do business with eventually.
“God,” Brad said, running a hand through his hair and sitting back in his chair, with an agitated look. He hated to think of her living that way. She deserved so much more, which was what Jack had always said, and Brad agreed. “He sounds like Pam. All she cares about is how much money we make. And frankly,” he smiled at Faith sheepishly, “Scarlett, I don't give a damn. I mean sure, I wouldn't want to see us starving to death. But that's not going to happen. She makes a fortune at her father's firm, she has some very, very major clients. And he's going to leave the whole shebang to her when he retires, or dies, whichever comes first. We have more than enough put away. We have a great house. Terrific kids. What the hell more could we want? How much more do we need to make? The beauty of it is that I can afford to do what I want, I don't have to gouge clients, or do boring tax work for them. I love what I do, that means a lot to me. I think Pam is embarrassed by it, because I'm not making the kind of money she thinks I should. And in the end, who gives a damn except Uncle Sam on April fifteenth? We've got more than enough to leave the kids, and we live very comfortably. I figured it was time for me to give back. Someone should.”
“It makes sense to me,” Faith said thoughtfully. It sounded like he'd made the right decision, for himself at least. But it also sounded as though it had created a big rift between them.
“For Pam, it's all about status and prestige, who you know, what other people think, what clubs you belong to, what parties you get invited to. I don't know, maybe I am getting old, or weird, but I'd rather sit in a jail cell talking to some kid than go to a boring black-tie dinner and sit next to some old bag who doesn't work and doesn't have a goddamn thing to say.” He looked heated as he talked about it, and Faith smiled at him.
“I think that's me you're talking about. I think that's the best argument I've heard for going back to school.”
“Maybe it is,” he said honestly. “I don't know. I just knew I had to do something better with my life than estate planning, or listening to people whine about their taxes, and try to help them preserve their fortunes for their kids, who need to get out and make a living anyway, and probably never will. I think I might have killed someone if I'd stayed.” He had hated the years he'd worked at her father's firm and longed to get out.
“I get so bored with nothing to do all day,” Faith confessed. “I feel like I'm wasting my life. The girls have their own lives, Alex has his work. I don't know what to do with myself now that I'm not taking care of them. All I have to do is show up and cook dinner at night. I can only go to so many museums, and have lunch with so many friends.”
“You definitely should go back to school,” he sounded firm. “Unless you want to go back to work.”
“And do what? I haven't worked since before Ellie was born, and I was really only a glorified gofer then. You can do that at twenty-two, you can't at my age. It doesn't make sense. The trouble is I'm not sure what does anymore. But Alex is going to have apoplexy if I go back to school.”
“Maybe it threatens him,” Brad volunteered, as Faith thought about it. “Maybe he likes knowing you have nothing to do and are dependent on him. I think that was part of it with Pam. I think she liked knowing I worked for them. It made me feel claustrophobic as hell. I'd much rather screw up and go down the tubes on my own.”
“I'm sure that won't happen,” Faith said reassuringly. “It sounds like you're doing fine, or at least you're doing the right thing. And it doesn't sound like the money is really an issue for either of you.” It was a nice position to be in.
“The money is a major issue to her. It's how she measures herself, by her success, and the money she brings in. I don't think that in the end that's what counts. When I die, I want to know I made a difference to someone, that I changed a life or two, that I saved a kid, and kept them from destroying their lives. I can't tell myself that by saving tax dollars for people who have too much money anyway.”
“I think Alex and Pam may be twins.” Faith smiled at him. She had always loved his values and views, even when they were kids. And she was sorry when Allison reminded her that they had to give up the room at five o'clock, and she was leaving for the airport at six.
“I think it went off pretty well,” she said to Faith. They all looked tired, but a lot of Charles's old friends had come by, and it had been an afternoon of affection and respect.
“You did a lovely job,” Faith said, wondering suddenly if they would ever see each other again, and although they had never even been friends, thinking about that saddened her. “Charles would have been pleased.”
“I think he would,” Allison said, as both women got their coats, and Bertrand signed the check. He had insisted that they wanted to pay for it. Faith had paid for the flowers at the church, which had come to almost the same amount.
Brad walked to the elevator with them. Allison and Bertrand were going upstairs to pick up their things. And Faith had to go down to the lobby to get a cab.
“When do you leave?” Faith asked Brad as they waited for the elevator with Allison and Bertrand.
“Tomorrow morning,” he said as the up elevator arrived and Faith and Allison embraced, while Bertrand held the door for them.
“Take care of yourself, Faith,” Allison said. She appreciated everything Faith had done for the past two days. They both had the same sense that their paths might not cross again.
“I will, you too. Call me sometime.” They were the words of people who had nothing to talk about, but who shared a sliver of history.
They got in the elevator and Faith waved as the doors closed, and she turned to Brad after they had, with tears in her eyes. “I'm so tired of losing people … of saying good-bye … and people who leave my life and never come back.” He nodded and took her hand in his as their elevator came, and they rode in silence on the way down.
“Are you in a rush to get home?” he asked as they crossed the lobby to the Park Avenue doors.
“Not terribly. We're going out tonight, but not till eight o'clock. I have time.”
“Do you want to have a drink somewhere?” he asked even though they had just spent the entire afternoon eating and drinking in the room upstairs.
“What about walking me home?” It was twenty-four blocks, a decent walk, and she wanted some air. Brad liked the idea, and they went through the revolving door and headed north up Park Avenue arm in arm.
They were quiet for a little while, and then both spoke at the same time.
“What are you going to do now, Fred?”
“What are you working on when you go back?”
They laughed and he answered first. “I'm trying to get a kid acquitted who accidentally shot his best friend. Possibly not so accidentally as it so happens. They were both in love with the same girl. He's sixteen, and charged with attempted murder in the first degree. It's a tough case, and he's a nice kid.” It was routine stuff for him.
“I can't compete with that,” she said, as they walked in easy stride side by side, in spite of his long legs. He was remembering how to adjust his steps to hers. They had gone on a lot of walks together in the old days. “Actually, I'm not doing a thing.”
“Yes, you are,” he said easily, and she looked surprised. “You're going to call Columbia and NYU and whatever other school appeals to you, and get the catalogs and registration forms for the law schools. You'll have to find out about the exams you have to take. You have a lot to do.”
“You've got my work cut out for me, don't you?” She looked amused, but she had to admit, she liked the idea, and so did he.
“I'm going to call you next week and find out how much progress you've made. And if you've dropped the ball, I'm going to raise hell with you. You've got to get off your ass, Fred. It's time.” He had walked back into her life as a stand-in older brother. Just like the old days. She didn't disagree with what he was saying to her, but she still didn't know how to sell Alex on it, or if she could. And she also didn't know if she was brave enough to defy Alex entirely. That didn't seem like a good idea, and challenging him had always frightened her. Some lingering memory of her father's criticisms and betrayals of her had always made her hesitant about standing up to men. At some deep, hidden level, she suspected she was afraid. The only men who'd never frightened her were Jack, and of course Brad.
“Do you have e-mail, by the way?” He was matter of fact as he asked, as they moved into the Sixties. It was getting dark, and Park Avenue was brightly lit, as people went home from work.
“Yes, I do. I just bought a laptop so I could e-mail Zoe. I'm getting pretty good.”
“What's your address?”
“[email protected].”
“You should change it to Fred,” he said, smiling down at her. “I'll write to you when I get back to San Francisco.”
“I'd like that, Brad,” she said, it would be nice to stay in touch with him this time. She hoped they would both make the effort. If he had time. His life was far busier than hers. “Thank you for being there today. You made it a lot easier for me.”
“I had some good times with Charlie a long time ago. I figured I owed it to him.” She still had trouble thinking of Charles in that context, but clearly he had been a lot more interested in Jack and Brad than he had ever been in her, or Allison. “And I wanted to see you.” His voice became gentler as they walked along, they were halfway to her house. “How are you doing without him?” They both knew who he meant, he was talking about her brother.
“Not so great sometimes,” she said, looking at the pavement as they walked, and thinking of him. He had been such an extraordinary person. There had never been anyone else like him, and never would be in her life again. “Other times, better. It's weird, sometimes I'm fine about him for months, and then all of a sudden, it hits me. Maybe it will always be like that.” She had spent a lot of time alone, wrestling with her grief, since he died. That had been another thing that had isolated her from friends. Grief was a solitary thing. And she had often gone to church alone, to pray for him. It was comforting. She had tried to talk to Alex about how much she missed her brother, but it made him uncomfortable, and it was awkward discussing it with him. He didn't like hearing about it. She had gone to see a psychic once, who had “channeled” Jack, and Alex had had an absolute fit when she told him, and forbade her to ever do it again or discuss it with him. He said it was a sick thing to do, and the psychic had taken advantage of her. But actually, Faith had liked it. She had gone back two more times, and never told Alex. And as they walked, she told Brad about it. He wasn't convinced of its veracity either, but saw no harm in it if it made her feel better. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it, to him.
“I miss him too, Fred,” he said gently. Brad was a gentle person. “It's so odd thinking that he's gone. I still can't believe it. I go to call him sometimes, I reach for the phone, when something funny happens, or I'm upset, or bothered about something, or need advice … and then I remember. It doesn't seem possible. How does someone like Jack just disappear? He's the kind of guy who should have lived forever. Do you ever hear from Debbie?” For reasons of her own, she had also vanished. She had maintained no contact whatsoever with Jack's family. Faith didn't even know where she was now, other than in the vicinity of Palm Beach. Or at least that was where she'd gone when she left, and then vanished.
“I never hear from her,” Faith answered. “I don't know that I ever will again. I think she knows I never liked her, although I tried for Jack's sake. She really jerked him around.” She had threatened to leave him regularly, separated from him repeatedly, and never appreciated what a terrific person he was. It had irked Faith constantly, although Jack had defended Debbie staunchly to Faith for all the years that they were married. “I always thought their relationship was sick. I don't know why he put up with it. She hardly said two words to me at the funeral, she left town two weeks later without saying good-bye, and Jack's lawyer told me that she had remarried. She used the insurance money to buy a house, and then married some guy. I think Jack got a raw deal from her.”
“I always thought so too. I think it's too bad they never had kids.”
“She probably wouldn't have let me see them anyway,” Faith said unhappily, and then looked up at Brad again. It was so nice talking to him about Jack, and life, and old times. “Are you really going to e-mail me?” she asked, looking young again, and he wanted to tell her to take down her hair so she'd look like the Fred he had always loved. She was the little sister he had never had, and had always been. And in some ways, she still seemed like a kid to him, and he felt protective of her.
“I told you I would.” He put his arm around her again and held her close as they walked. She was almost home.
“You won't drift away again? I miss you when I don't hear from you. There's no one left from my childhood anymore, except you.”
“You'll hear from me, Fred. I promise. But I want you to look into schools too. The world needs more lawyers like you.” They both laughed at that. And a few minutes later, they were standing outside her house. It looked elegant and respectable, with freshly painted black trim against the brick, and a narrow clipped hedge out front.
“Thank you for coming today, Brad. It's weird to say, but it actually ended up being a nice day. It's a funny thing to say about a funeral,” but it had meant a lot to her to spend time with him. She was happier than she had been in a long time. She felt comfortable and at peace, and safe, and loved, almost the way she had been as a little girl, when she was hanging out with him and Jack. They were the only thing about her childhood that she had loved.
“I think Charlie would have enjoyed himself if he'd been there. I'm glad I went. It's been a long time since you and I talked. Take care of yourself. I worry about you.” He looked down at her with concern, and she looked up at him with a brave smile.
“I'll be fine. Have a safe trip back to California, and don't work too hard.”
“That's the part I like best,” he admitted to her. Other than his sons, it was the only thing that really meant something to him in his life. He didn't have a lot of common ground left with Pam, and was no longer sure he ever had.
Brad gave her a big hug then, and hailed a cab, and she watched him get in and drive away. He rolled down the window just before they turned the corner, and gave her a last wave. Faith wasn't entirely sure she would hear from him again. He had drifted out of her life several times. After law school, and again after Jack's funeral. But at least they had shared this one lovely day. And in an odd way, it had been like sharing a visit not only with him, but with Jack. She was still smiling to herself when she turned the key and walked into the house.
She could hear Alex moving around upstairs. She hung up her coat, and walked slowly up the stairs, thinking of Brad.
“How was it?” Alex asked her, as she walked into their bedroom, and she looked at him with a smile.
“Nice. Everything went fine. Allison rented a room at the Waldorf, and a lot of people came by afterward. A lot of his friends, and my mom's. And Brad Patterson, I hadn't seen him since … in a long time.”
“Who's that?” Alex looked distracted. The television was on and he'd been watching the news. He was standing in his boxer shorts and socks, buttoning a freshly starched white shirt. And as he talked to her, he knotted his tie.
“He's a friend of Jack's. His best friend, in fact. We grew up together. You met him at Jack's funeral. He lives in San Francisco. You probably don't remember him.” There had been so many people there, and Alex never paid close attention to details like that, or people who were of no use to him. Brad would have fit into that category for him.
“No, I don't. Will you be ready in time?” He looked concerned. It was an important evening for him. It was a dinner party given by one of the senior partners of the firm, for a new client they had just signed. And he didn't want to be late. But Faith seldom was.
“I'll be ready in half an hour. I'll take a quick bath, and do my hair. How was Chicago?”
“Tiresome. But necessary. It went all right.” He didn't ask her anything about the funeral, but she wasn't surprised. Once he knew he wasn't going, he had swept it from his mind.
She walked into the bathroom then, and as promised, emerged half an hour later, wearing a black silk cocktail dress and a string of pearls, with her makeup on, and her hair combed straight down her back. She looked more like one of his daughters than his wife. They both had Faith's blond hair. Alex looked her over appraisingly and nodded, and didn't say anything. It would have been nice to hear him say she looked beautiful, but he hadn't done that in a long time.
They left the house five minutes later, and hailed a cab. The dinner party was ten blocks down Park Avenue, and Alex didn't say anything to Faith as they rode downtown. She didn't notice. Her mind was a million miles away. She was thinking about Brad. It had been so nice talking to him all afternoon. She hadn't confided in anyone that way in such a long time. Not since the last time she had talked to him, when Jack had died. It made her feel suddenly as though someone was interested in her life, her worries, her fears, the things that mattered to her. She had found in him the family she had been longing for and felt she had lost in the past few years. It reminded her of something she forgot at times these days, that someone cared about her, and she was loved.