Too Close to Touch (25 page)

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Is it before noon?”

Kylie grimaced. “Um, yeah. It’s about ten.”

“Then you woke me.”

“Sorry. Listen, I was wondering if you were heading to Poughkeepsie today.”

Jori was silent for several seconds, then yawned. “I’m going to New York, but not until tomorrow.”

“Is that when the services are?”

“What services? No, I’ve got a shoot in Manhattan.”

Kylie frowned, realizing they were on completely different pages.

“Jori, you know that Gretchen’s dad died last night, right?”

“Oh. Yeah, she left me a voice-mail. We were supposed to meet up tonight and do dinner and she needed to cancel. That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, it is. I know they weren’t close, but I think she was really relieved that he’d come through the surgery okay.”

Jori grunted, Kylie assumed in agreement.

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“Do you have any details on the service? What time will you go?

I’d like to send some ß owers.”
I really wish I could be there for her,
she thought. But the idea of standing off to the side while Jori supported Gretchen was just too much to bear.

“Oh, I’m not going.”

Kylie blinked and took several seconds to register what Jori had said. “What do you mean you’re not going? Why not?”

“It would be a little awkward, and you know me. I don’t do well at funerals and things.”

“Jori. You
date
her, for Christ’s sake. The least you can do is stand next to her at her father’s funeral.”

“Jesus, Ky, you sound like my mother or something.” Jori’s tone held an edge of defensiveness. “I don’t date her, okay? We’re not like that. She doesn’t owe me anything and I don’t owe her. We have an understanding.”

“An understanding. TerriÞ c.” Kylie shook her head, trying hard to comprehend that type of arrangement and failing miserably. “So…

you’re not going. At all.”

“I told you. I’ve got a shoot.”

“Wow. Your priorities are admirable.” She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Okay. Fine. Do you at least know where it is or have any details?”

“Nah. I haven’t spoken to her yet.”

This time, Kylie’s grip on her anger slipped and she let it burst through. “You haven’t even
called
her? For Christ’s sake, Jori.” She was ß abbergasted and didn’t bother trying to hide it.

Jori had the good sense to at least sound a little embarrassed. Kylie could almost see the shrug and had a crystal clear visual of Þ fteen-year-old Jori. “I just thought she probably had a lot of other stuff going on.”

Kylie couldn’t take it anymore and ended the call quickly, afraid she’d say something to her old friend that she might regret later.

I’ve already destroyed one friendship this week. I don’t need to lose
another.

She sat back in her chair and sipped her now-cold coffee, unable to get the image of Gretchen all alone for the burial of her father out of her mind. John Kaiser lived in Poughkeepsie, she knew that much.

Maybe she could Þ nd the local paper online and get information that

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TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

way. She had already entered a few words into her Google search when a thought hit her and she bit her bottom lip.

After several long minutes of debate, she went into Gretchen’s ofÞ ce and sat at her desk, sinking into the soft leather and inhaling the lingering scent of Gretchen’s perfume. She took a deep breath, opened the e-mail program on Gretchen’s computer, and scanned the list of contacts until she found the entry she was searching for.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Pete was worried about Gretchen. It was normal for someone to be upset about the death of a parent. It was normal for that person to seem a little numbed or lost, even a person usually in control of things. Gretchen, however, seemed completely shell shocked. He’d never seen her like this and it made him a little apprehensive for her.

When he’d seen her for the Þ rst time since the news and given her a hug, she’d put her arms around him, but barely squeezed. His wife Allyson said she’d gotten the same reaction. Gretchen had hardly said two words other than voicing her opinion of funeral home technicalities to help out poor J.J., who was an absolute mess.

John Kaiser hadn’t wanted endless hours of services. Instead, he’d requested—according to J.J.—a small memorial service and then an immediate burial, all in the same day. Pete admitted to the beneÞ t of getting everything done and over with, but he almost wished, for Gretchen’s sake, that there was a little more to the public good-bye process. Maybe it would help her become unstuck.

The memorial service had been nice, though Pete abhorred referring to anything that had to do with death as “nice.” He hated hearing people walking away from the open casket at a wake saying,

“He looks good, doesn’t he?”

No, he doesn’t look good,
he always had the urge to scream.
He’s
dead!

But the speech given by the local priest had been gentle and kind.

Gretchen’s uncle had given a glowing, often humorous eulogy, during which Gretchen had stared straight ahead from the front row, her face

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showing no emotion whatsoever. Conversely, on her left, J.J. had tears rolling down his ruddy cheeks, Jenna holding his hand tightly from the chair next to him, their two older kids on the next two chairs, looking sad and uncomfortable.

Pete had watched from the corner of his eye, keeping track of Gretchen during the entire service. He wasn’t sure what he’d been waiting for. A complete breakdown? Maybe a sob? One small tear? He didn’t know. But he kept her in his sights, just in case. She had shaken hands with the endless line of John’s former coworkers and clients; at one point before the service, the line had run out the door of the funeral home and down the block and the service itself had been standing room only. John Kaiser knew a lot of people, that fact was indisputable.

The ride from the funeral home to Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery was quiet, and he could practically feel Allyson’s swirling thoughts from the seat next to him as he maneuvered their car so they followed the hearse and limo in a line down the street.

“Gretchen doesn’t look so good,” she said softly. Her creamy smooth face was clouded with worry and he felt that old familiar urge to hug her to him and make everything all better.

“I know.”

“What can we do for her? There must be something we can do.”

Tears Þ lled her big blue eyes and her voice cracked. “I hate seeing her like this.”

“Me, too, honey.” Pete had scanned the crowd all day, had kept his eyes peeled and his proximity close to Gretchen, but he hadn’t seen what he was looking for and he began to think he was holding out hope for something that just wasn’t going to happen.

“Do you think she’d let us stay with her tonight? We could do that, couldn’t we?”

Gretchen was staying at her parents’ house, despite J.J. and Jenna’s offer to stay with them and the kids. Pete didn’t like the idea of her being there alone, but he was 99.9 percent sure she would refuse Allyson’s offer and claim that she’d be Þ ne, that she preferred to be alone.

“I doubt she’ll go for it. You know how she is.”

Allyson mulled that over for several minutes. “Well…maybe it will be good for her to be alone. Maybe that’s when she’ll allow herself to grieve. I mean, I know they weren’t close, but…he was still her father.”

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Pete nodded as they turned into the gated entrance of the cemetery.

He hadn’t been there in years, but he was continually awed by the age, by the feel of history that always struck him whenever he passed through the large stone pillars. He parked in a line with the other cars and walked a short way to the freshly dug grave next to Emma Kaiser’s as the funeral home employees positioned the casket nearby and laid a large bouquet of white roses on top.

Pete and Allyson stood behind Gretchen, each of them laying a hand on the shoulder of her black dress. Pete felt her stiffen slightly as she turned around and met him with hollow, haunted dark eyes. Her pain stabbed him deep in the gut, but he didn’t know what to do for her so he squeezed her shoulder and left his hand there throughout the service.

The blessing was short and sweet and the priest mentioned that the family wished to express its thanks by inviting everybody to J.J. and Jenna’s home for coffee and pastries. J.J.’s cheeks were still wet as he pulled a red rose from a nearby arrangement and stepped forward to lay it upon his father’s casket. Jenna followed him, an audible sob issuing from her chest, then the children. Gretchen didn’t move and stood as if riveted to the ground. The crowd began to slowly disperse and make their way back to their cars.

J.J. stopped next to his sister, kissed her sweetly on the cheek, and headed for the limo. Jenna did the same, unable to hide her worry, and squeezed Gretchen’s hand before following her husband. In a few short minutes, there were only Gretchen, Pete, Allyson, and the funeral home workers left.

“Gretchen?” Pete said softly. “Ready to go?”

Gretchen cleared her throat and spoke to him for the Þ rst time in hours, though she stared straight at the casket and didn’t turn to meet his eyes. Her voice was hoarse. “I think I’m going to stay here for a little longer.”

“You don’t have a car, sweetheart.”

“I know. I’ve got my cell. I can call a cab when I’m ready.”

Pete pursed his lips. “Can we wait for you?”

“It’s okay, Pete. Thanks, though. Jenna will be looking for you two.”

“You’re sure?” Allyson asked. It was clear that this idea didn’t sit well with her.

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GEORGIA BEERS

Gretchen nodded.

Pete took a deep breath and let his eyes wander the cemetery as he searched his brain for a way to not leave Gretchen alone there. When his gaze fell on the Þ gure standing near a tree a dozen feet away, relief ß ooded his heart.

“As long as you’re sure,” he said. Allyson looked at him as if he was insane for agreeing to leave her there alone, but he leveled a reassuring gaze at her behind Gretchen’s back and she refrained from comment.

As they headed to their car, they passed the woman leaning on the tree, and Pete gave her a nod and a heartened smile of thanks. Allyson took in the woman’s blond hair, simple black skirt and white blouse, and tear-stained face and smiled sympathetically.

When they were safely past her, she whispered, “Who was that?”

“If my instincts are correct, that, my dear, was the person who’s going to help Gretchen get through this.” He broke into a genuine grin for the Þ rst time all day.

Allyson furrowed her brows in confusion and he gave her time to put the pieces together. “Wait…” Her eyes widened. “That was
her
?

She came all the way down here?”

Pete nodded with satisfaction. “Kylie O’Brien. In the ß esh.”

“Oh, thank God,” Allyson muttered.

“Tell me about it.”

They got in their car and Pete turned the key in the ignition but didn’t shift into gear right away. Instead, he and Allyson watched as Kylie approached Gretchen from behind and stopped a foot or two away from her. Gretchen turned and her face registered a crystal-clear combination of surprise, joy, and relief. It didn’t look to Pete like Kylie said a word; she simply opened her arms.

“Oh, my God.” Allyson’s gasp was audible next to him as she watched Gretchen step into Kylie’s embrace without a second thought.

Gretchen’s smaller body began to shake with sobs.

“Told you,” Pete said, his voice quiet and proud. He shifted the car into drive and pulled away.

v

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TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

Gretchen wasn’t sure how long she stood wrapped up in Kylie, how long she’d cried in Kylie’s arms, but she knew she never wanted to let go. She felt relieved. She was warm, safe, protected.

Loved.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she mumbled against the soft, silky fabric of Kylie’s white blouse.

“I’m a little late. Sorry.”

“How did you Þ nd me?”

Kylie smiled against Gretchen’s hair and tightened her arms around the small frame. “MapQuest is a beautiful thing.”

“How did you even know?” Gretchen pulled back far enough to become lost in the emotional blue of Kylie’s eyes. “I mean, I should have called you. I’m so sorry I didn’t.”

Kylie used her thumb to wipe away the tears on Gretchen’s cheek.

“Wheeler told me. As for getting the right time and information…” Her eyes twinkled. “I had a little help.”

“You called Pete.”

“I did.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“He cares a lot about you.”

Gretchen nodded. She turned back to the gravesite, her palm sliding down Kylie’s arm and Þ nding a comfortable grip on her hand.

The funeral home employees who were left tried hard to look as though they were paying no attention to the two women, not wanting to intrude, so they busied themselves arranging and rearranging ß owers and such.

Gretchen knew she needed to let them get on with their jobs. She took a deep breath as she gave her father’s casket one last look.

Bye, Daddy.

Turning to Kylie with a lump in her throat and the irritating threat of more tears, she asked, “Did you drive or ß y?”

Kylie grimaced sheepishly. “I thought I could probably use the drive time to do some thinking.” She pointed. “My car’s right there.”

Gretchen voice was a hoarse whisper. “Can you drive me home?”

“Of course I can.”

Once situated in the car, Kylie was forced to drive one-armed, as Gretchen surprised her by once again grasping Kylie’s hand, lacing their Þ ngers together. They didn’t say much, Gretchen giving directions

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GEORGIA BEERS