A Soft Place to Fall Read Free Page A

Claudia hated. They would
make an appointment with that fancy therapist John Jr. was seeing
and she would have to waste fifty dollars of her late husband's
hard-earned money to find out what she already knew: she was lonely
and she was old.
    Why was it nobody seemed to understand that
without being told? She didn't have to work four days a week with
Annie at the flower shop. John had been very careful with their
money and, while she wasn't rich, she was certainly comfortable by
anyone's standards. She tried to keep up with the financial news by
listening to the experts on the radio and following their advice
when it felt right to her. So far, thank the good Lord, the market
had been kind to her. If her children stopped racing through their
lives for just one second and thought about it, they would realize
she worked at the flower shop because sometimes she needed a reason
to get up in the morning, someone to smile at her when she walked
through the door. They laughed at all of the seminars she took on
topics as diverse as money management to ikebana and never
one considered that maybe she just needed the pleasure of being
among people.
    It was the same with the house. She and John
had moved in on their wedding day. Every significant event of their
married life had happened within its four walls. Living in the
house where she and John had raised their family made her feel
connected to him even though he was gone. Love filled her heart
each time she walked through those dear and familiar rooms. Oh,
there were too many rooms by half. She would be the first to admit
that. She couldn't keep to her old standards of housekeeping any
longer. Dust lingered a little longer. The floors weren't as shiny
as she might like. She told herself it was all part of getting old,
the letting go, the giving up, turning a blind eye to the same
things that drove you mad when you were young and strong.
    Last Christmas her children and their spouses
had converged at the old house to celebrate the holiday, same as
they did every year, but with one small difference. This year they
were determined to convince her it was time to move on.
    "It's time to simplify things, Mom," Eileen,
her youngest, had said to her as she served the eggnog. "This house
is way too big for one person. You'd have so much more free time if
you didn't have this barn to take care of."
    "And where would the lot of you stay if I
didn't have this barn?" she had tossed back. "You'd be sleeping in
tents in the front yard."
    Of course, Eileen's was only the initial
salvo in an assault designed to open her aging eyes to what they
considered to be reality. Terri commented on how difficult it must
be to keep four bedrooms and two baths clean and sparkling, which
made Claudia smile into her eggnog. It was certainly easier now
than it had been years ago when the house was bursting at the seams
with toddlers and teenagers and John's hobbies. The boys talked
about taxes and upkeep and how the plumbing was going to need
repairs before next Christmas rolled around and why hang onto a
money sink as if she didn't have the right to make up her own mind.
Finally she had to stand her ground.
    "This is where I lived with your father, it's
where you grew up, and it's where I'm going to die," she had said
in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. "Now, who'd like
another piece of pie?"
    Annie was the only one who understood what
Claudia was talking about. In an unfair twist of fate, Kevin's
death had united the two women in a way not even Claudia's
flesh-and-blood daughters could understand. Annie knew how it felt
to lose the man you loved, how it felt to sleep on his side of the
bed because it made you feel less alone. Annie knew without being
told that time didn't heal a broken heart, it only helped you learn
how to live with it.
    You can't run away from your memories,
Annie, she thought as Susan barreled into the parking lot at
full speed. The world wasn't big enough. Better to stay in the
house