Alek didn’t have a single excuse to offer his sister and finally told her to mind her own business. But Anna was right.

“Thank you, Alek,” Julia said, climbing out of bed. Her face was turned away from him.

“For what, staying with you?”

“No…well, yes, that, too, but for…you know, not…”

“Making love to you?”

She nodded. Reaching inside her closet, she took out a set of clothes and held them in front of her as if to shield her body from his view. She’d spent most of the night cuddling against him. He’d felt every inch of her creamy smooth skin; there wasn’t anything left to hide. It didn’t seem right to point that out, however.

“The next few days are going to be very busy. I’ll be spending a lot of my time finishing up the funeral arrangements and…and going through Ruth’s things, so we probably won’t see much of each other for a while.”

She didn’t need to sound so pleased at the prospect, Alek mused.

By the time he’d showered and dressed, Julia had already left the condominium. His sister was eyeing him critically, clearly displeased about something.

“What’s wrong with Julia?” Anna asked in an accusatory voice. “She looks as if she was crying.”

Naturally it would be his fault, Alek thought, ignoring his sister’s glare.

“Her grandmother died,” he explained and he watched as Anna’s eyes went soft with sympathy.

“You love this woman.”

“She’s my wife.” He saw now that it was a mistake to have hired his sister. It was obvious that she was going to be what Jerry called “a damned nuisance.”

“You did not marry her for love.”

“No,” he admitted gruffly, resenting this line of questioning. He wouldn’t have tolerated it from anyone else and Anna knew it.

“She knows that you did not love her. This is why she sleeps in the small bed.”

“Thank you, Dear Abby.”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” Alek said impatiently. He grabbed a piece of toast from the plate and didn’t wait for the rest of his breakfast. He turned to leave the room.

“Aleksandr,” she said sharply, stopping him. “You’ve become very American.” Her face relaxed into a wide smile. “I think this is good. You teach me, too, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, chuckling.

Sorting through Ruth’s possessions proved to be far more difficult than Julia had expected. Her grandmother’s tastes had been simple, but she’d held on to many things, refusing to discard life’s mementos.

Disposing of her clothes was the easiest. Julia boxed them up and took them to a shelter for the homeless. It was the little things she found so difficult. A token from the Seattle World Fair, an empty perfume bottle that had long since faded. The photographs. She could never part with the photographs.

Julia had no idea her grandmother had collected so many snapshots. The comical photos Ruth sent Louis Conrad while he was away fighting in the Second World War made her smile.

Julia came across a packet of pictures that caused her to laugh outright. Her grandmother, so young and attractive, was poised in a modest-looking swimsuit in front of a young soldier’s photograph. It had to be Julia’s grandfather, but she’d never seen pictures of him at that age.

The whole thing must have been rather risqué for the time. Julia guessed Ruth had been giving Louis a reason to come home. Heaven knew it had worked.

Julia studied the picture and sat for several minutes remembering the love story Ruth had told her. It was sweet and innocent, unlike now when sex so often dominated a relationship.

Except for her marriage, she thought defeatedly. It was difficult to believe she could’ve been married to Alek this long without making love.

He’d been eager for the physical side of their relationship—until she’d revealed the first signs of wanting him, too. How typical of a man.

“Oh, Alek,” she breathed, holding her grandmother’s picture. “Will there ever be a way for us?”

In her heart she heard a resounding yes. But the voice wasn’t her own, nor was it Alek’s. It came from Ruth.

The day of the funeral, Julia wore a black dress and an old-fashioned pillbox hat with black netting that fitted over her face.

Julia hadn’t slept well the past few nights and the fatigue was beginning to show. She’d made a point of coming home late, knowing Alek would be waiting for her. She’d mumble something about being tired and close her bedroom door, slipping into bed alone.

She’d spent the past two nights wishing Alek was there with her. She cursed her foolish pride for not approaching him. But she was afraid that once she did, she’d ask him to make love to her again, and this time she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The limousine delivered Julia, Jerry and Alek to the Methodist church where Ruth had worshiped for a number of years. Jerry and Alek climbed out first. Alek offered her his hand as Julia stepped out of the car. A small group of mourners had formed on the sidewalk outside the church, awaiting the family’s arrival. Julia’s gaze quickly scanned the crowd, then stopped abruptly.

There, seeking her eyes, stood Roger Stanhope.

Eight

Julia hesitated, one foot on the curb, the other in the limousine. Crouched as she was, she felt in danger of collapsing. Roger had dared to show up at her grandmother’s funeral! The man had no sense of decency, but that didn’t come as any surprise.

Although Alek couldn’t have known what was happening, he leaned forward, put his arm around her waist and assisted her to an upright position.

His eyes were filled with concern. Julia’s heart was beating double time and her head was spinning. She was afraid she might faint.

“I…I need to sit down.”

“Of course.” With his hand securely around her waist, Alek led her into the church vestibule. A row of wooden pews lined the wall and Alek encouraged her to take a seat.

“What’s wrong?” Jerry asked.

Julia couldn’t answer. “Water…could you get me a glass of water?”

Jerry hurried away and returned a moment later with her drink. Other friends were beginning to arrive and after taking a moment to compose herself, Julia stood.

How dare Roger come to her grandmother’s funeral! He’d done it to agitate her, and his unscrupulous ploy had worked. Julia had never been so close to passing out. Not even the day her father had—She pushed the thought from her mind, refusing to dwell on anything that had to do with Roger.

Jerry caught sight of their former employee, and his mouth thinned with irritation. “You saw him, didn’t you?”

Julia nodded.

“I’ll have him thrown out.”

“Don’t,” she said. Roger wasn’t worth the effort. “He’ll cause a scene. Besides, I think Ruth would’ve gotten a kick out of it. We tried everything but a subpoena to talk to him after the fire, remember?”

“I’m not likely to forget.”

“Who would’ve believed he’d end up coming to us?”

“Not me,” Jerry agreed.

Alek didn’t say anything, but Julia was well aware of his presence at her side. She wasn’t fooled; he took in every word of the exchange between her and her brother.

“Point out this man to me,” Alek said to them both. “I will see to his removal.”

Jerry glanced at Julia, looking for her consent. She thought about it a moment, then decided she wouldn’t give Roger the satisfaction.

“Don’t kid yourself, Julia, he’s up to something,” Jerry warned.

“I’d be a fool if I didn’t know that,” she returned testily. She’d been duped by Roger once and it wasn’t a mistake she cared to repeat. She knew his methods and wouldn’t be taken in a second time.

The three of them had gathered in the back of the church and were unaware of anyone else until Pastor Hall approached them and announced they were ready for the service to begin.

Julia had known this ordeal would leave her emotionally depleted. Several times during the funeral she felt close to tears, but she held them at bay, taking in deep, even breaths. Her fingers were entwined with Alek’s and she appreciated more than ever that he was with her. His presence lent her the strength she needed to get through the heartrending experience of saying goodbye to the woman she loved so dearly.

Anna sat nearby, and despite the solemnity of the occasion, Julia thought she saw Jerry cast her several interested glances.

From the church they traveled to the north end of Seattle to the cemetery where Ruth would be buried in the plot next to her beloved Louis.

Julia was surprised by how many people came. The day was bright and clear and the sky a pale shade of blue she’d only seen in the Pacific Northwest.

There were so many lovely bouquets of flowers. The group of mourners gathered under the canopy at the cemetery. Julia, Jerry and Alek were given seats, along with a few of Ruth’s more elderly friends. Pastor Hall read from his Bible and the words were familiar ones since Julia had read them so often to Ruth herself.

Her heart felt as if it would shatter into a thousand pieces as the casket was slowly lowered into the ground. Alek must have sensed her distress because he placed his arm around her shoulders. The tears sprang from her eyes and she quietly sobbed her last farewell.

Afterward, the assembly met at Ruth’s home. Charles, who’d been with the family for years, had insisted on having it there, although it demanded extra work on his part. The meal was catered, but several friends brought dishes themselves. A wide variety of casseroles, as well as salads, cheeses and sliced meats, were served.

Julia and Jerry stood by the doorway and greeted their visitors, thanking each of them for their love and support. Julia received countless hugs. Anna had a felt uncomfortable about being among so many strangers and had left, with Julia’s fervent thanks for attending the service.

Various family friends recounted stories involving Ruth and Louis, and before she realized it, Julia found herself smiling. Her grandmother had been a wonderful, generous, warmhearted woman. Julia didn’t need others to tell her that, but their comments reaffirmed what she’d always known.

The gathering broke up into small groups of mourners. Every available seat in the living room and formal dining room was taken. Julia assisted Charles in seeing to the guests’ comfort.

She was filling coffee cups when Roger spoke from behind her. “Hello, Julia.”

It was fortunate that she didn’t empty the steaming coffee into someone’s lap. Roger had apparently sneaked into the house through the back door, because Jerry would never have allowed him in the front.

“Hello, Roger,” she said as unemotionally as she could.

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother.”

“Thank you.” Her words, if not her tone, were civil.

“Julia, Julia,” he said with an injured sigh, “isn’t it time for us to let bygones be bygones? How often do I have to tell you it was all a horrible mistake? It seems a shame to rehash something that happened so long ago, don’t you agree?”




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