sort of been there, like this constant fixtureâboth she and her home were always open for swimming, tea, a game of gin rummy, or whatever. But, beyond that, Luella was an unfalteringly reliable confidante to Katherine, offering advice when needed and lending a sympathetic ear when there was nothing to be said. She had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly when to keep her mouth shut and when not to. Still, it was hard for Katherine to feel like she ever really knew Luella the woman, despite how close theyâd been. She was a widow; that everyone was well aware of. She had no kids of her own, though she never spoke of why. She had lavish parties with throngs of guests, but very few close friends, if any. She was gorgeous, kind, and relentlessly generous, but also painstakingly private. That Katherine could relate to, then and now.
Through the years, Jane Sachs had made only a few passing comments about her old friend, all of which Katherine had taken note of. Apparently, Luellaâs husband had been about a decade older than she and very handsome; the kind of man that other women ogled on the sidewalks of New York City, whereâtypicallyâpeople didnât take time to look more than two feet in front of them. Jane had once remarked that John had been madly in love with Luellaâthat theyâd had a very special and unique connection that was evident to anyone in their general vicinity. Sheâd said Johnâs eyes followed Luella everywhere she went, like it was the first and last time he would ever see her, even if she was just excusing herself to the ladiesâ room. Jane had also confided, on the heels of Katherineâs prodding, that Luella and John had been desperate to have childrenâa big family, actuallyâbut theyâd tried and tried to no avail. Thereâd been more than one miscarriage, Jane recalled, and ultimately theyâd decided to leave it in Godâs hands rather than let it rule their lives. The one thing Jane had never touched on was how and when John had died. And what that had been like for Luella. Of course, Katherine had never asked, given her acute sensitivity when it came to people dying prematurely.
âJoe, your cholesterol,â Hazel admonished in her gentle way.
âOne quiche wonât kill me.â He shooed at her tenderly. âYou were very important to Luella, and she wanted you to know that.â
âSo, you knew about this?â Her father looked at Hazel, who nodded.
âWe did. Luella told us of her plans before she passed. But she asked us not to say anything. She didnât want you to fuss.â
âDo you know what sheâs left me?â Katherine eyed the mini hot dogs. She wanted to eat one for Hazelâs sake alone, but she just couldnât bring herself to. There were so many more tempting things to waste oneâs calories on. Like chocolate soufflé.
âNot really.â Her father looked at Hazel again.
âNot
really
? Or not at all?â Katherine winced at her inherently demanding tone. It was the tone she used for employees, not for her father.
âWeâve already said too much. Youâll find out everything tomorrow.â
âWould you like to stay for dinner, darling?â Hazel let him off the hook.
âI wish I could.â She could. âBut I have so much work to catch up on. Iâll probably eat room service in front of my laptop.â Hazel looked horrified. Sheâd definitely never ordered room service. Or felt tethered to a laptop.
âYouâre staying for Thanksgiving, though?â Her dad walked her to the door, helping her into her coat. Theyâd been so thrilled when sheâd told them.
âYes, Dad. I promise.â She kissed his cheek and he pulled her close to him.
âI love you, Kitty Kat.â
âLove you too, Dad.â
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
Katherine got back into her rental car, realizing she