Flamingo Diner. Sherryl Woods

Flamingo Diner - Sherryl  Woods


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      “Yeah, whatever,” Jeff said, but when he climbed into his car, he turned it toward home.

      6

      Rosa should have felt gratified. There had been so many people at the funeral, so many sincere expressions of sympathy. Every word spoken to her had been filled with very real dismay over her loss. Even the mayor had come by the house to offer his condolences. Though Rosa listened skeptically, for once his remarks seemed to be genuine, rather than calculated for maximum political benefit.

      “Don Killian was a tremendous asset to this community,” Owen Habersham said, clasping Rosa’s hand in his. “Whenever I had a problem, I knew I could come to him for clear thinking.”

      Rosa had always felt the same way about her husband, had thought he felt the same about her. So why hadn’t Don come to her with whatever devastating problem had been on his mind at the end? She’d always believed there was nothing they couldn’t discuss, nothing they couldn’t work out.

      The early years of their marriage had been filled with trials—business struggles, a miscarriage, the loss of his parents, then hers—but they had met each test together. Even before they’d married, there had been a few serious ups and downs. One rift had almost broken them up permanently, but they’d mended it and been stronger than ever.

      She sighed at the irony in the mayor’s comment. If her husband had been thinking clearly, would he have killed himself? She was ashamed of his actions, even more ashamed that she hated him for them. One act, one instance of craziness, had destroyed everything she’d felt for him, all the love in her heart. It had turned her into a liar and a hypocrite. She was keeping her suspicions—her certainty—that Don had purposely driven into that lake from the police and, more important, from her family. She simply couldn’t bring herself to add to the devastation that Emma, Jeff and Andy were already feeling. And even now she felt a tremendous sense of loyalty to Don. She wanted to protect his reputation, which was more than he’d seen fit to do when he’d decided to drive into the lake.

      Hearing so many people say such nice things should have been gratifying, but it wasn’t. She felt like a fraud, as if she didn’t deserve their sympathy because she was so horribly angry with the man they were bent on praising. Worse, she felt she didn’t deserve any compassion because it was plain to her, at least, that she had let Don down in some real, meaningful way. Why else would her husband take his own life?

      “Excuse me,” she said to the mayor, when she could take it no longer. Hurrying from the room, ignoring those who spoke, she made her way to the comparative quiet of the kitchen.

      Helen, who’d rarely let Rosa out of her sight, rushed after her. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

      “Can you get these people out of here?” Rosa pleaded. “I’m not sure I can handle it if one more person tells me how wonderful Don was.”

      “He was wonderful,” Helen replied, her tone chiding Rosa for thinking otherwise even under the current circumstances.

      “I always thought so,” Rosa said, feeling the rage once again begin to build in her chest. “But wonderful people do not suddenly decide to kill themselves one day. They do not abandon their families and leave them with a million questions.”

      Helen gasped. “Rosa, what on earth are you saying? Don’s death was an accident. No one’s said otherwise.”

      “I know better,” Rosa said. “He drove into that lake on purpose. Nothing else makes sense.”

      “Stop that. Stop it right now!” Helen said. “You can’t be saying such a thing. You can’t even think it.”

      “I don’t think it. I know it,” Rosa insisted, then sighed. “But you’re right, I can’t say anything to another living soul.” She gazed at her friend. “But I have to talk to someone, Helen, or I’ll go crazy.”

      “Then you can talk to me,” Helen said decisively. “If you need to work through this, then you can say whatever you want to me and it will go no further.”

      Rosa nodded. “You knew Don. How could he do such a thing?”

      “If—and I’m not saying I believe it for a minute—if he committed suicide, then something terrible obviously drove him to it. Anyone can reach a breaking point.”

      “Of course they can,” Rosa agreed. “But what was Don’s breaking point? Can you tell me that? Was he having an affair? Did some other woman dump him or threaten to tell me what was going on? Was he sick? Was he trying to spare us months of suffering? Or was he just tired of everyday life with me and the children?”

      “I don’t know,” Helen said, looking utterly helpless. “I wish I could give you answers, but I can’t. I can’t even accept the possibility that you might be right. You may have to resign yourself to not knowing.”

      “I can’t live with that,” Rosa said angrily. She searched her friend’s face and voiced just one of her fears. “Helen, do you think he was involved with another woman? Someone at the diner, maybe?”

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen scolded. “Don would never have an affair right under your nose. He would never have an affair, period. He loved you. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that.”

      “How do you know that?” Rosa scoffed. “I never thought he’d kill himself, either.”

      Helen obviously had no answer for that. She merely returned Rosa’s gaze, her expression distraught.

      “I know one thing,” Rosa declared. “I am not setting foot in that diner ever again, not when there could be someone there who was sleeping with my husband.”

      “Rosa, you’re talking crazy now,” Helen said impatiently. “Listen to me. There was no other woman. I am as sure of that as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. You love that diner. You’re its heart and soul. People come there for a kind word from you. They can get a decent omelette or pancakes anyplace, but they can’t see their friends or be welcomed like one of the family anyplace else in Winter Cove. Besides that, it’s your livelihood. Who’ll run it, if you don’t?”

      Rosa faltered at that. Don had always taken care of the finances. She had no idea what sort of money they had, but she doubted it was much, not with Jeff in college and Emma out only a few years. Don had believed in building up the equity they had in Flamingo Diner. Every spare penny had been put back into the business. That equity ought to be worth something. And it was on a prime piece of real estate now that downtown Winter Cove was turning trendy.

      “I could sell it,” she said slowly.

      “You wouldn’t,” Helen replied with shock.

      “Why wouldn’t I?” Rosa challenged. “Emma and Jeff aren’t interested. That leaves Andy, but why should I tie him down to a business he might not even want? Why not sell it and invest the money?” She was already warming to the idea. In fact, she could move back to Miami to be closer to her sisters. No one there would stare at her with pity the way so many of her friends had today. Of course, she wasn’t as close to her sisters as she was to Helen, Sylvia and Jolie, her three best friends.

      “And do what?” Helen asked. “How would you spend your days?”

      Right now the only thing that appealed to Rosa was sleeping through them. “I’d find plenty to do,” she said confidently. “Especially if I went back to Miami. I could work in my uncle’s restaurant. I could have Sunday dinners with my family, go to Mass at the church where I had my First Communion.”

      And best of all, there were few memories of Don in Miami. They had met there, but the courtship had been brief and tumultuous. Then, immediately after the wedding, they’d moved to Winter Cove and opened Flamingo Diner, using every penny of both their savings to invest in their future.

      Helen was staring at her as if she didn’t even know her. “Would you honestly rip Andy out of school


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