The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,22
all a blur to her. Jean and Carole had arranged for food at the house, and more than a hundred people came to eat and drink and tell her how sorry they were. And all Liz could think of was leaving him at the cemetery. She had left a single red rose on his casket for him, and then kissed the box, and walked away, holding Jamie's hand with Peter's arm around her. It was a moment of such blinding pain that she knew that never in her entire lifetime would she forget it.
She moved like a robot throughout the day, and two hours after everyone left, her brother-in-law caught a flight to Washington, her brother to New York, Jack's parents to Chicago. Victoria went home, but promised to drop by the next day, with the boys. Jean went home that night too, and her mother was leaving the next morning. And then she would be alone with her children, and have the rest of her life to live through without him.
When the children went to bed that night, finally, Liz and her mother sat in the living room. The Christmas tree was still there, drooping as badly as she felt, and her mother had tears in her eyes as she patted Liz's hand.
“I'm sorry this happened to you.” She had lost her own husband, Liz's father, ten years before, but he had been seventy-one and sick for a long time. She had had time to prepare for it, and her children had been grown and gone. It had been painful for her too, but nothing like this was for Liz, and she knew it. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, as tears slid down her cheeks and Liz's once again. There was nothing else to say. They just sat in the living room and hugged each other for a long time, and for the first time since Jamie's birth, Liz remembered that she loved her, and forgave her for the things she had said then. In a terrible way, this agonizing loss had brought them a kind of healing, and if nothing else, Liz was grateful for it.
“Thanks, Mom. Can I make you a cup of tea?” she asked finally, and they went out to the kitchen together. And as they drank tea at the kitchen table, her mother asked her again if she was going to sell the house and Liz smiled. This time it didn't bother her as much. It was just her mother's way of saying she was worried about her and wanted to know if she'd be okay. She had finally figured out that she wanted Liz to reassure her.
“I don't know what I'm going to do, but we'll be fine.” They had put aside enough money over the years, and Jack had a healthy insurance policy. And of course she had the law practice to support them. Money wasn't the issue now so much as learning to live without him. “I don't want to make any big changes for the kids.”
“Do you think you'll remarry?” It was a silly question, but Liz smiled, thinking of what Victoria had said. “If China declares war on us …”
“I don't think so. I can't imagine it, Mom.” And then tears filled her eyes again. “I don't know how I'm going to live without him.”
“You have to. For the children. They're going to need you more than ever. Maybe you should take some time off from work, close the office for awhile.” But she couldn't afford to take time off, and she knew it. Their entire caseload was now resting exclusively on her shoulders. Except for Amanda Parker. Just thinking of her made Liz ache for her children and what they had been through that day. They had lost both a mother and a father. She had called the house and spoken to Amanda's sister that afternoon and told her how sorry she was. They had both cried, and the Parker family had sent her and the children flowers.
“I can't close the office, Mom. I have a responsibility to our clients.”
“That's too much burden for you, Liz.” Her mother cried as she said it. She had a heart after all. It was just the connection to her mouth that was so often foolish and faulty, but Liz suddenly understood something more about her. She meant well, she just didn't know how to say it.