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A man in his midfifties smiled warily when they entered. He looked so much like Frankie that Sam’s throat closed. This would be Gerald Wilson. Who’d changed his name to White.
“Can I help you?” Gerald asked.
Sam waited for Georgia to say something, but her gaze was fixed on the woman in the bed. Sharon was thin, but alert. She was even wearing a bit of lipstick. That was a good sign. Now they had to get the son to let them stay.
“I hope so,” Sam said. “My name is Sam Reeves. This is my friend, Georgia Shearer. We were friends of Frankie. I mean Frank.” He didn’t say Flynn. If the son hated his father, Sam didn’t want to pour gas on the flame.
The man’s gaze hardened. “No. This is not a good time.”
“Gerald,” Sharon said, her voice crackling like paper. “I want to see them.”
“Mom.”
She lifted brows that were a tad too dark for her ashen skin. Her cheeks, however, had been colored a perfect shade of pale pink. “These are the visitors I’ve been expecting. Oh, and they brought a dog. I love dogs.”
Siggy wagged his tail but didn’t make a move to run or jump. Good dog.
Gerald’s jaw clenched. “Do not upset her.”
“We don’t plan to,” Georgia said, then swallowed hard. “You look like him.”
Gerald’s cheeks flushed a hot red. “Please don’t say that.”
This is not starting well.
Sam helped Georgia into the chair beside the bed, then stood behind her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. He’d be her guardian, if need be. Siggy curled up at his feet, and Georgia reached back and patted Sam’s hand. “Sam’s a good boy,” she told Sharon.
“I don’t know about that,” Sharon said with a weak smile. “He didn’t bring me an In-N-Out animal style.”
Sam sagged in relief. “Henry Whitfield called you.”
“Yes, he did. Said you wanted to talk about Frank.” Her smile disappeared. “I didn’t know that he’d died. Not until Henry called me.” She glanced at her son, who was watching with a mutinous expression. “Gerald is shielding me from news. Normally, I appreciate it, but I wanted to know about Frank. I still can’t believe he’s gone. Murdered.” She reached for Georgia’s hand. “You knew him?”
“I did. I was his friend. He spoke of you. Quite warmly.”
Gerald snorted rudely.
“Gerald,” Sharon rebuked. “Stop it. I’ve told you over and over again that your father and I both decided to divorce. I’ve told you this for forty-five years. If you can’t at least be respectful, I’m going to ask you to take a break for coffee.”
Gerald swallowed. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Sharon shook her head, the movement slight. “Son, I don’t know what more to tell you. Your father was not at fault for our divorce.”
Gerald’s jaw bulged. “Fine, Mom.”
Sharon turned her attention to Georgia. “Henry said that you’re writing Frank’s eulogy and wanted to know about him before he met Ryan.”
Gerald’s gasp was loud and harsh. “What?”
Sharon frowned. “What do you mean, what?”
Gerald approached the foot of the bed and gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “You knew about his…affair?”
“I knew about Ryan, yes. I told you that your father had met someone else.”
Gerald cast a panicked look at Sam and Georgia. “But I thought you were talking about a woman. Not a man.”
“Does it matter?” Sharon asked gently. Then she sighed. “Excuse me, Georgia and Sam. I’m getting the distinct impression that my son has been mistaken for a very long time. Gerald, I knew your father was gay. I knew almost from the beginning. Certainly before we got married. His parents were pressuring us to marry and…well, it was a different time. He didn’t feel like he could be honest with them, but he was honest with me. It was okay. He was against our marrying. He didn’t want to ‘use’ me, but I was all for it. I told him that we’d be friends. That if we could have a child, I’d be grateful, but that I wanted to keep my career. I’d worked hard to get my PhD and I was on a path to tenure at the university. I wasn’t ready to settle down and be a housewife. Not many men would have allowed me to continue working back then, but Frank was supportive of my work. We were friends, Gerald. Best friends. And, a few times, we were lovers.” She lifted a thin hand and waved up and down, taking Gerald in. “Thus, you. He never lied to me.”
