An Unfinished Story(8)



With an unforgiving attitude, the woman said, “I would expect that at the very least.” She turned to her friends and shook her head. Then back to Claire, “How sad the owner let it fall to pieces like this. I know it’s not your fault. Ugh. Probably some family business and the parents are letting the kids take over.”

Scrambling to suppress the volcano of anger erupting inside her, Claire stared the woman down. “Actually, I own this place. Leo’s South. Leo was my father, and he owned Leo’s Diner in Chicago for forty-five years. My husband died three years ago today. Today!” Claire paused for effect. “But I didn’t stop working. I didn’t want this place to slip. I didn’t want my husband’s death to be some excuse for letting Leo’s South fall apart. Instead, I did everything I could to not only keep up our standards but to make my restaurant better. Not just to make it better for you! To make it better for my husband! He built this place!” She started pointing. “He put in that stove. Built the bar. He ran the wiring. David gave me this place, my dream. Leo’s South is his, too, and it’s just about all I have left of him!” And she added less aggressively, “So I’m sorry it’s not special to you anymore.”

To say you could have heard a pin drop would not have done the moment justice. You could have heard a gecko sneeze from across the bay in Tampa.

Claire covered her mouth and took a giant breath, realizing what she’d said. She couldn’t imagine the story her eyes must have told as emotions rushed over her. David was suddenly speaking to her, telling her to calm down. She could hear his voice in her mind. “Simmer down, honey.” Closing her eyes, she nodded to him.

Finally, Claire looked at the ladies, ending with her eyes on the unhappiest of them. “I am so sorry. That was too much.”

The woman looked like someone had stuffed a hard-boiled egg into her mouth. The patrons at the other tables were attempting not to stare.

Claire let out a sigh. “Your meal is on me. I’m so sorry, really. As you can tell, it’s been a hard day.” Without much more to say, she ended with, “I’m going to excuse myself.”

Not a peep came from the table.

Claire attempted a smile and sneaked away with the past pecking away at her like turkey vultures on roadkill. The last person she saw before disappearing through the green door into her office was Didi, waiting in line for the restroom, showing a concerned facial expression.

Sitting down at her desk, she glanced at a picture she’d taken of her father. More than once over the years, he had gently cautioned her, “Don’t air your dirty laundry in public.” He’d also told her, “Never let them see you sweat.” Both rules had officially been broken today.

A knock on the green door. Didi entered and closed the door behind her, shutting out the craziness of the busy café. She sat across from Claire in the wicker chair.

Claire straightened her glasses. “I know you’re not going to ask me if everything’s okay.”

Didi took her time responding. “I’m not sure what I want to say.” Shaking her head, she continued, “As you know, I don’t have all the answers.”

Several moments passed, and Claire liked having Didi in the room, but she didn’t know how to break the silence. Finally, Claire told the truth. “I honestly don’t feel like I’ll ever get to where you are. There’s no way I’m going to wake up one day feeling all giddy and excited about life. Look at you. I’m never going to be so carefree, running around with some Spanish model.”

Didi sighed. “Claire, I still have my moments.”

“What could possibly pull me out of this awful feeling that is constantly dragging me down? And don’t tell me it’s another man. That might be your secret, but it’s not mine.”

“I don’t know what your answers are, Claire. There’s no magic formula to get over losing the love of your life. Though I think you’ll find another man to love one day, you’ll probably have to learn to love yourself again first.” She shrugged. “But what do I know?”

Another wave of emotions rushed through Claire, and she had to close her eyes and breathe through them. She put her hands behind her head—fighting the nausea—and looked at Didi. “I miss him more than anything, and the hole in my heart aches. The hurt is indescribable, like someone has ripped my rib cage open and left me to die.” Hot tears filled her eyes. “I can’t bear it anymore.”

Didi rounded the desk and wrapped her arms around Claire. “Stay strong. That’s all I can tell you. Try to tap into your stronger self.”

Claire cried into her friend’s shoulder. “How can I stay strong? I’m not strong. Nothing about me is strong.” All she wanted to do was curl up and finish David’s book, to read his words, to be close to him again.

Her friend released her and wiped one of the tears from Claire’s cheek.

Claire removed her glasses and wiped her eyes.

“You don’t ever have to say goodbye to him. He’s in your heart, Claire. He’ll always be in your heart.” Didi stood straighter and touched her own chest. “Find him here. Feel him. And talk to him. Ask for his help. That’s my magic formula. Not these men who chase me around. My secret is that my husband is here in my heart, and he wants me to be a fighter and to carve out a new happy life for myself. He wants me to be happy. What does David want from you?”

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