Read Life After Perfect Online
Authors: Nancy Naigle
Life After Perfect
ALSO BY NANCY NAIGLE
The Adams Grove Series
Sweet Tea and Secrets
Wedding Cake and Big Mistakes
Out of Focus
Pecan Pie and Deadly Lies
Mint Juleps and Justice
Barbecue and Bad News
Standalone Books
InkBLOT, cowritten with Phyllis C. Johnson under the pen name of Johnson Naigle
The Granny Series
cowritten with Kelsey Browning
In for a Penny
Fit to Be Tied
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 Nancy Naigle
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of
Amazon.com
, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781477829493
ISBN-10: 1477829490
Front cover design by Anna Curtis
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014958174
To Pete:
For celebrating the little victories with me along this journey and reminding me to believe in those blue skies ahead.
Thank you, my friend.
You are the real thing.
Contents
Chapter One
June days in Georgia were mostly spectacular and sunny, if not a little too darn hot, and on this particular one, the weather wasn’t a match for the mood.
Katherine Barclift and her husband, Ron, walked hand in hand up the landscaped path leading to the huge church where the funeral service was being held for their neighbor, Donald O’Connor.
A large crowd had gathered already. As folks filed through the tall arched front doors of the chapel, Katherine spotted Peggy Allen and Shaleigh Wright waiting near the entrance.
She made a beeline for her two friends. “It’s so sad,” she said as she reached out to hug Peggy. Ron hung back a couple steps.
“Poor Bertie. I can’t believe Donald died like that. No warning at all,” Peggy said. “I mean, if he were a type A guy I could totally see it happening, but all Donald did was golf and fish. How hard can that be on the heart?”
“I know.” Katherine shook her head. “So sad, and he wasn’t that old.” He was the same age her parents were, and the news of his death had made Katherine worry about them for the first time.
“You’ve been with Bertie all week, Katherine. She hadn’t seen any signs?” Shaleigh asked.
“None.” Katherine shrugged. “She said he was perfectly fine. Just didn’t wake up.”
“He seemed so healthy,” Peggy said.
Ron placed his hand on Katherine’s arm and said, “I’ll go ahead and sign the guest book and get us seats while you talk.”
“Sure, honey. Thanks.” Katherine watched as her husband walked up the stairs to the chapel. He still had a way of making her swoon. He hadn’t had to adjust his wardrobe at all for the funeral today. He sported a nice suit and tie every day of the week. Katherine turned to Shaleigh. “Is it just me or is this the biggest chapel you’ve ever seen? I always thought chapels were small, with steeples twice as tall as the buildings were wide.”
“I think it’s just you,” Shaleigh said. “Living in that pretend world you like to think is so charming and perfect.”
“Perfect is good. Or perfect. Whatever it is, I like my world that way, thank you very much,” Katherine teased, but it was only a half-joke. After spending the week with Bertie, helping her figure out her finances and funeral arrangements, Katherine had a long laundry list of things she planned to discuss with her own parents and sister to ensure they were better prepared than poor Bertie had been.
Shaleigh raised a heavily penciled brow. “Well, someone’s life ought to be perfect. May as well be you.”
No one really knew how old Shaleigh was. Her long dark hair had a youthful sheen and she had only a few tiny wrinkles right around her eyes. But even with those good features, all put together, she was more interesting-looking than attractive. Some would say even harsh-looking. Just as harsh as her reputation.
Rumors in Preakness Heights ran the gamut—from thirty-something to fifty-something. It didn’t matter how old she was, though, because the woman was the best divorce lawyer in Atlanta. Local men hated her, because if Shaleigh was representing your former better half, she’d drag your sorry ass through whatever it took to get her client a hefty
settlement
. Shaleigh seemed to love that she made men cringe, too. Seemed to take a little pride in it, actually—sometimes taking time to point out past prey.
“Can you believe how many people are here?” Peggy, almost six feet tall in her heels, with natural red hair that would send Paul Mitchell into fits of envy, looked around and nodded politely as people passed.
“I know,” Katherine said. “No doubt the O’Connors met and mingled with a lot of folks in their lifetime, but we’ve lived next door to them for five years. If Bertie’s seen hide or hair of even a quarter of these people, they must have been sneaking in over the back fence.”
Peggy nodded. “Tucker was surprised by how many people were here too. Did Bertie and Donald go to this church?”
“I have no idea. I guess so. Where is Tucker?” Katherine asked.
“Same as yours. Went inside to sit down. I guess he thinks the sooner he’s in a pew, the sooner it will be over. You know the world rises and sets on him, right?”
The three women laughed.
“I think everyone from the neighborhood is here. That’s nice,” Peggy added.
Preakness Heights was filled with busy professional couples, and although Katherine wouldn’t call most of them friends, they did look out for one another. Kind of an unspoken law of the neighborhood. Just like Bertie had asked for help from Katherine this week.
“So, what exactly were you doing for Bertie this week?” Shaleigh asked.
“Donald handled all of the finances. She had no idea how much money was in any of the accounts or even how to access them. I went through everything and helped her set up a new budget, locate the insurance papers—the basics.”
“She knows you’re a project manager, not a banker, doesn’t she?”
“Everyone thinks if you work for the bank, you know everything from checking accounts to mortgages and investments. At least this I could handle. Any of us could have,” Katherine said.
“True. It was still nice of you. How is she?”
“Sad. Devastated. Lost. But thank goodness she’s in financially pretty good shape.”
“It’s her money, you know,” Shaleigh said.
“Bertie’s? Really?” Peggy’s eyes opened so wide, horizontal wrinkles won against the Botox on her forehead. “I’d just assumed Donald had retired, but now that you mention it, I don’t think anyone ever spoke about him having any kind of a career.”
“Family money?” Katherine hadn’t even considered that, but it made sense now that she knew. “But wouldn’t you think Bertie would have been more involved if it was her money?”
“You’d think, but I kind of got the feeling she was a spoiled rich girl when Donald married her. I think his specialty was playing,” Shaleigh said. “Not playing like most of the men. Real play. Fishing, golf. I think I remember him saying he collected sports memorabilia. Something like that.”
“Well, if he was retired, isn’t that what he’s supposed to do?” Peggy said.
“Yeah.” Shaleigh shrugged. “It just surprises me how many couples still let one person handle all of the finances. It’s a big old mess when you’re trying to split things up and the two people’s interpretation of the financial picture is different. It’s just not smart. That’s all.”
Katherine knew that Shaleigh, with her black-and-white thinking, saw her share of the inner workings of marriages gone bad. She always came down a little on the negative side of it, too.
“I’ll be right back,” Shaleigh said. “I see someone I need to say hello to.”
“I was happy to help Bertie in some little way,” Katherine said, then she motioned Peggy closer. “Only I found something that I’d rather not have. I really hate to say anything, but . . .”
“But you’re going to. What?” Peggy prodded.
“So . . .” Katherine tucked in closer to Peggy and lowered her voice. “I need your advice.”
“What’s the matter?” Peggy asked.
“I think Donald had someone on the side.”
Disbelief registered on Peggy’s face. “Why would you think that?”
“It was the last thing I expected to find going through the checkbooks and working up a budget for Bertie.” She glanced around. “But there were monthly checks going to a woman for at least the past two years. Kim Elliona.”
“Never heard of her. It was probably a loan or something,” Peggy said. “Did you ask Bertie about it?”
“I kind of probed about the amounts, but she didn’t seem to know what I was talking about, so I just let it drop.” Katherine folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself at the thought. “Why hurt Bertie like that, or embarrass her if she did know? The guy is dead and gone. Water under the bridge. No use stirring up that kind of pain. Hasn’t she been through enough?” But, then again, if that woman showed up and befriended Bertie to keep her allowance going, Katherine would be forced to tell her the truth. What a mess.
“Well, for the record,” Peggy said looking dead straight at Katherine, “I’d want to know.”
Shaleigh came back. “What did I miss?”
Peggy pushed her hair over her shoulder. “I was just saying that if someone knew my husband was cheating, I’d want to know.”
Shaleigh cleared her throat and gave Peggy an odd look.
“I would,” Peggy said about two octaves too high to be convincing.
Katherine avoided eye contact. This was not a conversation she wanted to have right now, and especially not with Peggy. Tucker Allen was anything but an angel.
Peggy nudged Katherine. “What would you do if you caught Ron cheating, Katherine?”
She sucked in a long breath. “It would be the ultimate betrayal. I’d leave him so fast his head would spin.”
“Easy to say,” Peggy said. “But you wouldn’t want someone to tell you?”
“Oh, I think I’d know.” Katherine wished she hadn’t let Peggy bait her.
“Y’all don’t want to hear statistics on this, and you don’t understand until it happens to you. So, come on.” Shaleigh took one of each of their hands. “We better get inside.”
Katherine thought she might be sick right there, because if Peggy didn’t have any idea that Tucker Allen had hit on every woman in the neighborhood and beyond . . . she wasn’t about to be the one to tell her. It seemed like most of the women rebuffed his overly flirtatious ways, but the guy had to get lucky once in a while, else he’d certainly have abandoned the tacky actions by now.
Katherine’s heart twisted when they walked into the chapel. Bertie looked so tiny in the front pew by herself. No children. No one.
For a fleeting moment she saw herself sitting there. All alone. And boy, did her heart feel heavy, not just for the single loss of a devoted husband, but for the children she’d always wanted . . . thought she’d have by now. She tossed her hair back and swallowed the emotion. She didn’t know how Bertie felt about it, but that thought nearly made her crumble to her knees. No, she couldn’t give in to that kind of emotion.
Katherine looked toward Shaleigh and Peggy. If they’d felt that powerful punch, there was no sign of it. She forced herself to step forward, leading the others inside. She took the empty spot next to Ron in a pew midway down on the left. He reached out and squeezed Katherine’s hand as she sat.
Peggy’s comment still nagged at her. Maybe hearing about Donald’s infidelity had struck a little too close to home for Peggy. It wasn’t like Tucker was discreet. There were rumors. Lots of them, and even if Peggy didn’t have any proof, she had to at least suspect something. Didn’t she?
Peggy and Shaleigh slid into a pew near the front, next to Tucker. They were nearly the last ones to take their seats.
A short, portly man shaped like a bullet stepped to the front. He didn’t wear a church robe, just a dark suit not so unlike every other man in the room. Except for Donald. Although people wouldn’t know this unless Bertie told them, since it was a closed casket. She’d dressed him in his hip waders and a fishing hat.
The organist stopped and the preacher’s voice boomed across the space with the strength and vibrancy of a man eight feet tall.
His message, and the soothing cadence of the words, despite their volume, sent Katherine’s thoughts adrift.
What if it had been Ron rather than Donald who’d had that heart attack? Ron worked so hard. Never slowed down. Long hours. Type A all the way. Bertie had described Donald the same way, but of course that must have been years ago, before they moved to Preakness Heights.
The preacher waved a theatrical arm in the direction of the coffin, and then pulled his fist to his heart. “There’s a place inside each of our hearts where love lives on forever
. . .
always
. . .
and where nothing beautiful is ever forgotten. Those memories. They will remain with us always.”
Always?
Katherine wondered when the last time she and Ron had slowed down long enough to take in the moments that were supposed to become memories. She looked over at her husband. Was he even paying attention, or was he mentally checking off things on a to-do list a mile long? At least he didn’t have his phone out.
Katherine choked back a sob, unsure if it was for Bertie or herself. Were most of the people dabbing at tears in this room today missing Donald? Or, like her, was today a reminder of the mortality everyone all must face? The mistakes made. The fear of the unknown.
“As we grieve,” the preacher said with such emphasis that Katherine hitched in a quick breath at the power of that word. The finality of it. “Let’s share the stories, the hope, the moments that made our smiles touch one another, and be grateful for the lessons that Donald shared with us. Treasure those gifts.”
Ron patted her leg. She looked into his face and he gave her that gentle smile that always made her feel better.
“Let us pray.” Everyone bowed their heads in a rush of movement like a soft sheet floating in a breeze.
When the amens finally rumbled through the room, the organist played a hymn that Katherine didn’t recognize, but it pulled at her core in a way that made it hard to breathe.
The pallbearers came forward to lift the casket and carried it past on the way out of the church.
Donald had been a huge man, but once people die and their bodies are prepared
. . .
do they all weigh the same?
Could you even google that?
The funeral director, a handsome gray-haired gentleman in a suit only a shade darker than his hair, held out his hand to Bertie.
Katherine stuttered a breath as she watched Bertie place her trembling hand into his. He helped her stand, then walk
. . .
ever so slowly
. . .
her lips trembling, her eyes so pink that they looked like they must sting, her hand still clutching one of Donald’s handkerchiefs tightly in her fist. So tiny and alone. One woman. No children. All of her family gone.
Katherine looked down at her hands, trying to will away the lightheaded feeling she had. If she never had children, she would be alone like this one day. There was no guarantee that your children would take care of you, she knew that, but they’d be there in some form or fashion—even if out of obligation.