When Least Expected

By Sheryl Fawcett

The FBI serves simultaneous search warrants on an office and a residence. Indiscretion makes sexual escapades impossible to ignore. An ambulance rushes to the hospital in the middle of the night.

The results are three women alone after decades of marriage. They are intelligent, affluent, self-sufficient, and totally devastated by their losses. Stories of betrayal and human frailty are a reminder that any family's public face can be very different from its private one. An Iowa snowstorm sets the scene for a shocking personal revelation about a Ponzi scheme, giving birth to an unexpected bond of strength in their friendship.

After emotional setbacks, the three baby boomers wonder if happiness is possible or if misery is the life left for them. A long-ago chemistry lesson about electrons, and a message in a fortune cookie, lead them on a journey in pursuit of the answer.

This is the first book of "The Women of Lakeshore Drive" series. While the series progresses over time, each book is a stand-alone and can be enjoyed on its own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sheryl Fawcett
• Release date: Jan 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301937622

Sheryl Fawcett

Sheryl Fawcett grew up primarily in Knoxville, Iowa, and attended Grinnell College. She married her high school sweetheart, Rich, and today they live in Omaha, Nebraska. They raised two daughters who blessed them with four granddaughters. Sheryl grew up with a sister and no brothers. With so many females in her life, is it any surprise she creates complicated female characters that intrigue both women and men readers. Her career path has ranged from owning and operating a dance school to selling residential real estate. Now she devotes her time to writing novels and short stories. Her personal motto: I intend to die young at a VERY advanced age!

Book preview

WHEN

LEAST

EXPECTED

(The Women of Lakeshore Drive: Book 1)

By Sheryl Fawcett

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

When Least Expected

By Sheryl Fawcett

Copyright 2012 Sheryl Fawcett

Smashwords Edition

Cover by LFD Designs for Authors

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please log on to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: September 22nd

Chapter 2: Jack's Story

Chapter 3: Carrie and Jack

Chapter 4: Glenda's Story

Chapter 5: Suzanne's Story

Chapter 6: The Meeting

Chapter 7: The Friendship

Chapter 8: Robert's Story

Chapter 9: The Affair

Chapter 10: Betrayal Analyzed

Chapter 11: And Then

Chapter 12: The Aftermath of September 22nd

Chapter 13: The Duncan Family

Chapter 14: Healing

Chapter 15: The Wall

Chapter 16: Resolution

About the Author

Reading Group Guide

Chapter 1: September 22nd

Carrie stood alone in front of the open casket, her cheeks damp with tears. Two women waited in silence a short distance back, arms hanging uselessly at their sides. The widow bent over the casket, whispering softly, her fingers stroking Jack’s still hands.

Reverend Abel approached Carrie and spoke quietly to her. She reached out and caressed Jack's beloved face one last time, cherishing every detail. A part of her had died with him, and she wondered if there were even a way to hold onto whatever remnants of life remained inside her. Reverend Abel spoke again. This time she nodded and pulled herself away to face her two friends. She lightly embraced each and then allowed the minister to lead her from the room. She forced herself not to look back. Glenda and Suzanne followed a few steps behind.

They entered a small parlor where the others were already assembled. She hesitated; she didn't want to be confined in there with all of them. Carrie’s brother, Robert, stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulders. He walked her to an unoccupied couch where they sat down together.

Carrie sat with her thumb tracing the outline of the lilies woven into the design of the fabric, and then seemed suddenly startled to find herself sitting there, as if she didn’t remember walking into the room. Her eyes darted around the small group, avoiding Jack's mother, and stopped on Glenda and Suzanne. Her expression beckoned them to her side. Suzanne perched herself on the rounded arm of the overstuffed couch, while Glenda walked behind and rested her hand reassuringly on Carrie’s upper arm.

After a short message of comfort, Reverend Abel suggested they pray together and heads bowed throughout the room. Glenda remained immobile, and raised her eyes after the first few words to scan the scene. She just didn't do the God thing.

Martha, Jack's elderly mother, sat in a striped wing-back chair. She wore an ornate black jacketed dress and heavy jewelry. Her eyes were tightly closed as if struggling to contain sobs welling within her. Her remaining son, Jerry, and his wife, Dana, stood as sentinels beside her. Jerry's face was one of controlled grief for Jack, a brother he would have to admit he barely knew as an adult. He glanced down with concern at Martha every few seconds. Dana had slipped her arm through the bend in Jerry's elbow. She had a gentle demeanor that exuded quiet strength. In contrast to Martha, their clothing was understated, albeit expensive.

Sitting on the couch next to his sister, Robert's expression held no clues that might reveal what was playing out in his mind. He had perfected his neutral mask over the last several months. Right now, Carrie's needs were forcing him to push his own personal anguish into the background. His wife, Ellen, stood stiffly by the door. She shifted from foot to foot as if anxious to move on.

Glenda's gaze shifted to the small reading table in the corner encircled with three straight chairs. Robert and Ellen's teenage daughters sat in two of them, the only splash of color in the room. Leah just started her senior year in high school, and Lyn was two years younger. Glenda was surprised to find the older girl also searching faces in the room. Their eyes locked for an instant, then diverted. The third chair was occupied by Jerry and Dana's fourteen year old son. Willie didn't tug at his collar the way most boys his age would. He was accustomed to wearing a suit and tie. The three teens had never met before yesterday when Willie flew in from New York with his parents and grandmother. They were uncomfortable, and not simply because each was experiencing this inevitable end of life for the first time as a family member.

Finally, she returned her attention to Carrie. As the minister prayed, the muscles in her face and neck relaxed and her breathing deepened, a brief respite from the devastation that had struck in the wee hours of the morning a few short days ago. She was clearly finding comfort in the very words Glenda found so empty.

The minister concluded, Amen, and the others immediately responded with their own amen’s almost in unison. Glenda quickly lowered her eyelids so no one would be aware of her having observed them. Rustling sounds fluttered about the room as they rose and slowly readied to leave.

The gentlemen in the dark suits from the funeral home had been busy during the family time in the parlor. They had rapidly moved the casket and flowers into the waiting hearse, reaching the church well ahead of the family in order to prepare for the service there. Two black limousines waited under the portico of the funeral home.

Carrie squeezed the hands of her two friends and stepped into the first limo. Her right shin smacked the door frame, but she was numb to any physical pain, too consumed by the choking pain deep in her heart. Robert and Ellen followed. Next Jerry helped his wife and his mother in, before settling into the rear facing seat himself.

Glenda and Suzanne walked back to the second limo, where the three teen-agers were already leaning against the back seat. The boy looked at them curiously. The older of the sisters spoke his thoughts, Why are you two riding in a family car? You’re not related to either Carrie or Jack. You’re just neighbors. Shouldn’t you be at the church with the other people?

Glenda stiffened defensively, but it was Suzanne who calmly responded, It was Carrie’s request. She asked us to stay with her all day. The boy nodded. The younger girl glanced at her sister whose eyes were flashing accusingly. It seemed to her these two women had taken their place in Aunt Carrie’s affections. Why she cared, she didn’t know. They rode in silence the rest of the way.

As they entered the church Carrie turned from Robert. Glenda, Suzanne, please sit by me.

Glenda answered, We’ll be right behind you. Your family is with you now. She looked directly at the oldest teenager and proceeded to the second pew.

Carrie sat tall throughout the service. Her eyes were red but the tears had stopped. She had already cried out all the tears in her right now. The hymns, the eulogy, the readings, all seemed to be coming from somewhere far away. Only the prayers brought her back to this place. At the end of the service she followed behind the pall bearers to the waiting hearse, standing quietly as the casket was slid into place. Once again the minister spoke softly to her. She hesitated a moment then moved toward the limo. When all were in their places, the procession rolled forward for Jack’s final drive to the cemetery.

Carrie grabbed onto Glenda and Suzanne’s arms as they approached the gravesite. She looked at them imploringly, This time I need you two beside me. So it was Robert and Ellen who stepped back to the second row.

Martha appeared to be near collapse. Jerry, always the dutiful son, centered his attention on her. Martha never released Jerry’s right hand. Dana now laced her fingers through his other hand. Seeing the expression on his face she mused, I wonder if Jerry regrets so many lost years. But then, how do you reach out to a brother when your mother never lets go of you long enough to do so?

Robert looked first at the back of his sister’s head and then studied his wife’s profile. She was a beautiful woman, but with a hard demeanor now. Most of that was his fault. He was so lost in thought that he missed the first words of the Scripture before hearing, …I shall not want.

But I do want! he thought. I want my family back. Where did everything go so wrong?

…beside still waters.

Ah, there’s no such thing as still waters. There’s always a current stirring beneath the surface.

He leads me in the path of righteousness…

He missed me there. Either He forgot to lead or I forgot to follow.

…and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Dwell?…I guess that’s what I do in my house. It’s sure as Hell not living.

Carrie’s lips mouthed the words of the Scripture along with Reverend Abel’s reading. Once again Glenda was aware of her relaxing both physically and emotionally.

The graveside service concluded. Carrie placed a single red rose on Jack’s casket and stood with one hand resting on it as people streamed past. They murmured their condolences. Some patted her free hand, some gave her a hug, a few pecked her cheek. She nodded, gave a small appreciative smile now and then, and thanked them all for coming.

Ellen and the girls headed for the limousines. Robert stopped halfway and waited for his sister. Jerry stepped forward, touched the casket and bowed his head, before turning again toward his mother. He and Dana then helped Martha, no longer able to contain her sobbing, to her feet and walked her to the limo. Their son followed. Reverend Abel respectfully remained a few feet away from Carrie, allowing her all the time she needed. Glenda and Suzanne also stayed, having no intentions of abandoning Carrie as she stood there so very much alone.

Cool fall breezes gently stirred the air. An occasional golden leaf floated down from the trees around the five figures. The sun shone brightly in the southwest sky. Several minutes ticked by before Carrie quietly spoke, Goodbye, my darling, leaned and kissed the casket and slowly walked away toward the limo. Robert took her arm as she approached. Glenda and Suzanne followed alongside the minister. For the third time that afternoon the two vehicles carried them through the streets of town, this time not stopping until they arrived at Carrie’s home on Lakeshore Drive.

Close friends and Jack’s business associates came and went over the next couple hours. The rows of pies and cakes lined up on the granite top of the kitchen island gradually diminished. The coffee pot brewed pot after pot and the tea kettle on a back burner whistled from time to time. The background rumble of muted conversations mingled with tinkling cups and saucers. The sun was setting as the last of the guests left. Glenda and Suzanne retreated to the kitchen. Glenda started cleaning up the piles of dishes while Suzanne pulled small sandwiches, fruit, and raw veggies from the refrigerator. Only the family remained sitting in the huge living room.

Jerry had opened a couple bottles of wine and busied himself filling everyone’s crystal glasses. Martha exclaimed, Gerald, you poured my Chardonnay into a cabernet goblet! What were you thinking?

Sorry, Mother. I just wasn’t paying attention. Here, give it to me and I’ll get you another in a proper glass.

Suzanne whispered to Glenda, How important is the proper glass on the day her son is buried? Glenda shrugged and rolled her eyes.

Jerry and Dana’s son asked, Is it OK if I go in the den and watch the game? His mother raised her eyebrows, but Carrie quickly responded, Sure, Willie, go right ahead. She looked at the girls, smiled, and asked if they wanted to join him. The younger sister followed Willie, but the older shook her head no.

Robert swirled his goblet and sniffed the aroma before sipping the George De Latour. This is an excellent cab, full-bodied with smooth tannins.

It’s Jack’s favorite. That’s why I wanted to open this bottle first tonight, Carrie told no one in particular.

Martha remarked, If nothing else, he did have expensive tastes, didn’t he?

Carrie’s face colored, but she simply said, Jack said he was an all-American boy. His two favorite things were a juicy hamburger right off the charcoal grill and a bottle of great Napa Valley red wine. I bet that combination is missing from the gourmet magazines. She chuckled softly.

Jerry added, When he was a kid, his favorite combo was a peanut butter sandwich with sliced bananas and a mug of cold milk. Still all-American, I guess.

That led into a string of anecdotes about Jack. Jerry filled glasses around the room several times, opening more bottles as he went. As the wine flowed, the stories grew louder and more animated.

Suddenly, Martha’s voice cut through the room, How can you all be laughing and talking like this? Jack is dead; my son is dead! Everyone stopped talking and stared at her.

Dana broke into the icy silence. I’m going to bring in the sandwiches now. I think everyone should eat something.

Martha’s voice rose, Eat? You think eating will make a difference? Do you all think this is a party? She looked at Carrie. You and your brother are more interested in drinking Jack’s wine collection than honoring his memory! You let his den, his private sanctuary, be defiled by a raucous sports telecast! Why is no one mourning Jack but me?

Mother, we’re all mourning Jack, especially Carrie.

The three women had entered from the kitchen. They placed trays of sandwiches, fruit, and veggies alongside plates and napkins on the sofa table, hoping to be a distraction from the growing exchange.

Martha had pulled herself to her feet now, leaning on her cane. Carrie is mourning his loss of income. How can she expect to maintain her present lifestyle? This house? The expensive wine? These leeches she calls friends? She gestured wildly toward Glenda and Suzanne. Glenda’s mouth opened, but Suzanne grabbed her arm and stopped her.

The two teens emerged from the den. The third edged closer to her mother.

Jerry addressed his mother again, Mother, sit down. You’ve had too much wine and you don’t know what you’re saying.

I know exactly what I’m saying, she screeched. Gerald, your brother is dead. Tell them how much I loved Jack and how terribly I’ll miss him.

Now Jerry lost it. You loved Jack? You’ll miss him? You never wanted him born! You ignored him from the day you brought him home from the hospital. It’s a wonder he survived until he was old enough to fend for himself. Why do you think he moved to Iowa? I’ll tell you why. He had to get far away before the empty vacuum sucked the life right out of him! God forgive me, I was part of that vacuum, too.

Carrie started to cry. Glenda and Suzanne went to her. Dana stepped between Jerry and Martha. Stop it, both of you, stop it now! She may as well have been invisible and mute.

Martha continued glaring at Carrie, screaming through dramatic sobs, You kept him away from me! You wouldn’t even bear his child! You didn’t want to take time away from your precious career. Because of you, there’s nothing left of Jack for me.

This Carrie could no longer handle. She doubled over, choking on painful tears. Robert had moved toward the front door. His voice boomed out, This lovely evening has just come to an end. Jerry, you have two minutes to get your family out of here or I’ll do it myself. And brunch tomorrow is cancelled. Have a nice trip home. With that, he pulled open the heavy cherry wood door and flipped on the porch lights.

Chapter 2: Jack's Story

In 1948 Martha and William Andrews lived in the middle of Manhattan on the 23rd floor of an exclusive co-op building overlooking Central Park. Summers and holidays were spent in The Hamptons.

William headed one of New York’s top financial consulting firms. His father had had a successful brokerage house before him. However, William had decided early on that the real money was to be made working with corporations and their executives rather than trading in their stock shares. He had convinced his father to let him delve into that business through a separate division. It became so successful that the brokerage business was sold to another firm for a very tidy sum of money shortly before his father’s death. William’s mind was on business day and night and he spent very little time at home. However, he produced a grotesque amount of income, which was far more important to Martha than her husband’s presence.

Martha was a regular cast member on the New York social scene. Her days and evenings were filled with luncheons, bridge games, cocktail parties, and endless hours in beauty salons. She sat on a couple philanthropic boards, not for any expertise which she certainly didn’t have, but for the generous contributions she could elicit from her husband. Heads turned when Martha walked into a room. She was not what one would call beautiful, but she carried a look of striking nobility. She always made a dramatic entrance, sweeping in adorned with diamonds and dressed in designer wear by the likes of Christian Dior and Hubert de Givenchy. She’d float from group to group, greeting all in such a way as to let it be known they were fortunate to have her in attendance.

There was only one person who could bring pause to Martha’s self-absorbed life, eight year old Gerald William Andrews. Martha doted on her Gerald. He could do no wrong in her eyes and, in fact, did very little wrong in any one else’s eyes either. He excelled in school, played the piano with ability beyond his years, and was already a competitor in the riding arena. Young Jerry possessed the perfect combination of his father’s exceptional intellect and quiet mannerisms along with his mother’s strong features and commanding self-assuredness.

One spring morning Martha awoke feeling nauseated. She shook it off with a little toast and tea and went on about her day. The next morning started the same, except the nausea kept coming on in waves, forcing her to cancel a hair appointment. The next two days she felt fine, until a charity luncheon at the Metropolitan Museum. She rushed away from the table, reaching the privacy of a bathroom stall just in time to lose the gourmet chicken salad she had only partly consumed. After that almost embarrassing incident, she stayed home for a few days thinking she was battling a flu bug. Finally, she called for an appointment with her doctor.

She left Dr. Smithfield’s office in shock. Fearing diagnosis of a serious illness, she learned what she considered far worse. She was pregnant. Dismay didn’t begin to describe her reaction. She was furious with William for impregnating her, totally distraught at the intrusion into her busy social life, hysterical over her potential loss of figure, and insanely jealous of the idea of Jerry having another human being he might love.

She considered her options. There really weren’t any. Abortion was illegal and, while she could well afford a few days in Europe, she knew William would never permit it. This baby would be born and she’d simply have to tolerate it.

She had a miserable pregnancy and she decided if she was unhappy, everyone else was going to be unhappy, too. Her friends dreaded being around her because she constantly bemoaned the impossible mess her life had become. Other members of the boards and committees on which she served hoped she’d be absent from meetings because she’d carry on for a half hour about her personal sacrifice to even be there in light of her physical condition. William extended his already long work days, avoided social engagements whenever possible, and took far more business trips.

Jerry arrived home from school each day to his mother’s waiting arms. Only now, they didn’t play games or read stories. She didn’t even want him to practice his piano pieces for her. Instead, she sat beside him on that uncomfortable brocade couch, pulling him so close he could barely move. There he had to listen to how much she loved him, how he was the only bright spot in her life, and how she was so sorry she felt ill most of the time and couldn’t be a better mother to him. It’s all this baby’s fault, Gerald. Things were so good with just you and me, before this creature came into our lives to spoil everything. Jerry didn’t understand why, but he hated the baby whom he had yet to even meet.

John Edward Andrews was born a few days before Christmas. Her hospital room soon filled with baskets and vases of holiday arrangements, reminding Martha how she had been cheated out of all the gala holiday gatherings by this unwanted intrusion into her life. After reading a dozen cards of congratulations on their special delivery Christmas gift, she refused to open any more.

When they arrived home, she handed off the newborn to the nurse she had earlier hired. He was whisked away to the nursery, fed and changed, then swaddled in a blanket before being laid down to nap. Jerry slipped silently to the cradle’s side and gazed down at his brother’s tiny face, wondering what all the fuss had been about all these months. The little blue bundle didn’t look like something he should hate. Hearing his name called, he reluctantly left the nursery and found his mother lying in her bed.

Oh, Gerald, come over here so I can give you a big hug and a kiss. I’ve missed you so much these last few days. Were you afraid I had left you and was never coming home again?

Such a thought had never occurred to Jerry until that very moment. Could such a thing happen? Could that baby make his mother just leave and never come back? In a wave of panic, he threw his arms around her neck crying, Mother, I don’t ever want you to go away! Promise me you’ll always be here with me.

Yes, Gerald, Mother will always be here. I’ll be near you forever and ever and ever! There was no way he could envision the future impact of that promise.

Jack was a happy, contented baby all day long. However, when his nurse went home for the night, he’d start to fuss. It wasn’t long until he worked himself into a crying frenzy. Martha would eventually have to go to him, but she was tense and he was upset and nothing could calm him. Finally, after his evening bottle he’d settle down, only to start the whole episode over again about the time Jerry was being tucked in for the night.

Martha had always especially enjoyed Jerry’s bedtime. They’d talk about his day, make up imaginary stories, and laugh together. Now Jack’s screaming permeated this special time and Jerry understood what his mother had meant about Jack coming into their lives and spoiling everything.

On those rare occasions when William was home for the evening, he would go into the nursery and sit in the rocking chair for hours with Jack sleeping in his arms. The other nights the baby boy would cry alone until he fell asleep from total exhaustion.

When Jack was a toddler, he sometimes would crawl into Jerry’s bed in the middle of the night. Jerry really didn’t mind snuggling with him, but Martha would throw a fit if she found him still there in the morning and carry on about Jerry not getting enough sleep for