Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(29)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“Walter?” Someone called from behind them.

Dakota pasted on the smile that had been on her face all evening. Only Walt’s expression paled.

He turned and his words sounded dry. “Mrs. Adams.”

There wasn’t a hug, or even a handshake.

Mrs. Adams took a great interest in Dakota. The woman’s gaze moved over her slowly and left her bare. Without realizing she did so, Dakota moved closer to Walt. Only he held himself away just enough to wiggle a sense of insecurity in her veins.

“We really didn’t think you’d be here,” Mrs. Adams said.

Dakota waited for an introduction that didn’t seem to be coming.

Walt set his drink down on the table beside them, stood back.

Tension started to build as the seconds ticked by.

Dakota sought a pleasant face in the crowd, found Brenda nearby, and pleaded that she join them with a look.

A man approached Mrs. Adams’s side, his expression less than friendly.

When Walt’s hands started to clench, Dakota set her drink aside and placed a hand on his back.

He flinched, and she dropped her hand and stood back.

Mrs. Adams gaze stuck with Dakota. “She looks nothing like our Vivian.”

Brenda reached their side, offered a smile. “Hello, Harriett.”

The woman scowled.

Dakota wasn’t sure what was going on, but she hadn’t yet seen Walt this tense. Not even his parents placed as much stiffness in his spine as the couple in front of him did.

Mrs. Adams sucked in a deep breath and turned to the man at her side. “We should make our excuses.”

They started to walk away and Walt called out. “Lee?”

The man escorting Mrs. Adams away sneered. “We have nothing to say to you.”

Something inside Walt deflated, his shoulders slumped, his smile long gone from his lips.

For a brief moment, no one said anything. Walt stood motionless, and Brenda stared at her brother.

Dakota waited.

“That was ugly,” Brenda finally managed. “I don’t know why Mom invited them.”

“It’s OK, Brenda.”

“It’s not. They should have realized how that would play out.”

Dakota moved in, not willing to be left unaware of what had just happened, and why it had affected Walt so deeply. “Who were they?”

Brenda glanced at her briefly before returning her attention to her brother. “Vivian’s parents.”

Dakota’s practiced grin slid. A rock in her stomach started to grow. “Who’s Vivian?”

“Walt’s late wife.”

Late . . . what?

It took Dakota’s mind a moment to catch up with Brenda’s words. When Walt’s eyes found hers and a layer of ice closed over them, she understood.

Walt was a widower.

It’s strange how the head buzzes in times of stress. Lee’s retreating back parted old friends, those who knew the truth, and those who simply assumed. Most of those watching had no real idea what had happened and why.

Walt’s head started to pound.

“Walt?” He felt Dakota’s hand on his arm. A huge question sat behind her eyes but this wasn’t the time, or place, to tell her about Vivian. He’d hoped to avoid the conversation altogether.

“I’m . . . sorry you saw that,” he told Dakota.

She tilted her head. “What’s a little family drama?”

“There you are.” His mother approached from behind and Brenda jumped on her.

“How could you, Mom?”

JoAnne pushed closer, lowered her voice. “Harriett and Lee just excused themselves. What did you say to make them leave?”

Walt’s back teeth met up and threatened to break. “Your loyalty is astounding.”

Dakota squeezed his arm and stared at his mother. “I could use some fresh air. If you’ll excuse us, JoAnne.”

It was probably a good thing Dakota led him outside.

The image of a caged animal caught him when they stepped out in the cooling air while Brenda and his mom stared each other off. He broke away from Dakota the moment they were alone on the back porch overlooking the lake. The moon glistened on the lake like diamonds . . . a sight he would enjoy if his insides weren’t twisting on themselves.

Dakota leaned against the large wooden pillar, her eyes following him.

“She was in her last year of medical school,” he told her.

Dakota lifted a hand. “You don’t have to explain.”

He liked that about her, he decided. If he’d just learned that Dakota was a widow he’d have a million questions. Besides, this wasn’t something he ever talked about, yet confronting Vivian’s parents made the details surface.

“I was a first-year resident. We grew up in the same town but didn’t really notice each other until med school. She was smart . . . funny.” He glanced at Dakota and noticed that practiced smile start to surface. “You don’t want to hear this.”

Her gaze softened. “No. I do . . . please.”

He pushed away from the rail, stared at the lake while he talked. “We saw each other off and on. It wasn’t serious . . . more like when we had moments of homesickness, or were in need of a familiar face, we took each other up on the other’s company.”

“So what changed to make you two marry?”

He saw Vivian’s foggy image deep in his memory. “I was four months into my first-year residency. God, I was tired . . . so tired. I didn’t want to date, didn’t have the time. Vivian was just as exhausted. Struggling to finish her final year in med school. I didn’t get it. She’d always been so full of energy.” He rubbed his temple. Feeling the fatigue all over again like it was yesterday. “She ignored her symptoms . . . didn’t tell me.” He ran his hand through his hair. “She had an advanced form of pancreatic cancer. One trip to the ER . . . one trip and we both knew.”

“Oh, Walt. I’m so sorry.”

“She opted for surgery . . . was going to follow up with chemo. There were new drugs available. But she was scared. It’s like she knew.” She knew she was going to die.

“What happened?” Dakota’s voice was soft, concerned.

“Lee and Harriett aren’t doctors. They don’t know when it’s time to let someone go. Vivian was an only child. Only Viv didn’t want to prolong her life and make everyone else around her suffer. As her husband, I could make decisions on her behalf if she wasn’t able to make them. So before she went in for surgery, we eloped.” He remembered the justice of the peace, the two of them trying to laugh with the fake bouquet of flowers he’d grabbed from the hospital lobby.