January 2005 – Greenwich, The Grayson Estate
Among the hundreds of mourners that flooded her home, Victoria failed to find one single family member. By the bar, her father-in-law reminisced upon his marriage but neither Conrad, nor her children, were anywhere in sight. She spied the portrait of Elizabeth that hung in the foyer of her home and realised that her mother-in-law's death left her to become the Grayson matriarch. It was a burden Victoria no longer desired.
Excusing herself from the guests that lingered in various areas of her home, Victoria ascended the stairs that reached the first floor of bedrooms. "Conrad?" The background noise of an automated audience laugh attracted her attention and she wandered toward her daughter's bedroom, where she discovered Daniel and Charlotte.
"Hey, mom." Daniel raised his hand in acknowledgement, as his mother peered into the room. Protectively curled in his arms, Charlotte's head rested upon his chest and a F.R.I.E.N.D.S. repeat episode played on the television.
"Have either of you seen your father?" Their mother asked, her voice hushed.
Daniel shook his head, concern evident in his furrowed brow, "Isn't he downstairs?" His mother shook her head and Daniel felt a mild sense of relief. At any other time, his parents would have been at odds with one another; it felt as if they had been for most of his childhood, but his grandmother's death had taken its toll on all of them. Thankfully, his mother had made her best effort to be a source of support to his father. "Do you want me to help you find him?" As Daniel prepared to embrace adulthood in a few months, he pondered that, one day, he would be forced to bury his mother and the thought provoked great distress. He doubted that kind of pain would be any easier to tolerate with age either.
Both children looked toward their mother and Victoria curled her lips into a heart-warming smile. The day had been difficult for both Daniel and Charlotte, who had been unable to disguise her horror at the open-casket funeral. As beautiful as Elizabeth appeared, she was equally as haunting and Victoria had held the eleven year old until the service concluded. "No," Victoria shook her head, "You stay here with your sister."
Shutting the door to ensure privacy for her children, Victoria swept between the empty rooms and retreated back downstairs, where Edward beckoned her, "Victoria?" He excused himself from the circle that had gathered around him, fascinated and longing to hear more of his memories of Elizabeth. "Where's Conrad?"
Regretfully, Victoria clasped her hands together. "He needed some time to himself." In an attempt to distract him from his son's noticeable absence, Victoria placed a hand on his arm, "How are you holding up?"
"Well enough," Edward admitted, and Victoria had little doubt her father-in-law would survive the loss. He was a tough soul, one of the few men she had ever respected and relied upon. "You know, I can't help thinking how much Lizzie would have loved all of this." Hundreds had gathered at Elizabeth's funeral, a show of respect and an appreciation for the life that had touched so many, and Edward had been heart-warmed to discover that his wife had such a profound effect on even those that knew her briefly. "Losing someone you love so suddenly can bring so much into perspective, too." The elderly man wisely pointed out, as Victoria linked her arm into his and they wandered through the home, its walls adorning many pictures of the deceased. "There were so many times I disappointed her." Like Conrad, fidelity was not Edward's strong point. "But, no matter what I did, she always found it in her heart to forgive me and we loved each other for over fifty years." It was quite the accomplishment. "That's the kind of life Lizzie always dreamed for Conrad," Edward pursued the moral of the story that Victoria had learnt to anticipate from his snippets of advice. "I wanted him to inherit the company and continue the legacy but Lizzie always wanted him to be happy, to grow to be an older man than I am today with a good woman by his side. There's no better woman than you, Victoria." Her body naturally tensed; too much had come to pass between them for their happy-ever-after to suddenly reappear. They tolerated one another, that tolerance had become much easier to bare since David's death, but their relationship had gone far beyond breaking point. Her father-in-law squeezed her arm, "It was her dying wish to have the two of you grow old together."
"Edward," Victoria scowled. She resented the emotional extortion, preying upon her fondness for a woman who had been a better mother to her than her own.
Defensively, Edward raised his hands and relented in his meddling attempt. "This marriage has survived far worse than most," he reminded her, ironically not entirely aware of just how much Conrad and Victoria had endured at one another's side. "My girl always believed in the two of you," he pointed out, motioning to the portrait of his wife and Victoria affectionately admired her beaming grin, wondering if, perhaps, her mother-in-law had more faith in her than she possessed herself.
The tie around his neck loosened, the buttons of shirt unlocked, Conrad staggered home in the dead of night. The memorial had been unbearable and the sympathy he received from well-intentioned mourners had suffocated him. Burying his mother had left him with a heavy heart, not even the assurance that she had lived a full life could have consoled him.
Quietly, he trudged to the master bedroom, where he discovered Victoria propped upright against the headboard, her eyes drooping shut, and the book on her lap forced open by her hand. It had been years since she had purposely waited up for him. She roused from her slumber, "Conrad." His eyes were bloodshot, his appearance understandably dishevelled and Victoria discarded her book onto the nightstand. "Where were you?" The stench of Chanel perfume mixed with alcohol overpowered the room but Victoria dismissed it. Their marriage had hardly been a traditional one and Conrad's lack of loyalty to her seemed such a trivial issue in the wake of Elizabeth's death.
"I needed some time to think," Conrad avoided the question, carelessly slinging his jacket onto a nearby chair and collapsing onto the edge of his side of the bed. His affair with Lydia had been a hot and cold commitment for two years but Conrad relied upon her as his only solace in times of crisis. "Did dad leave already?"
She nodded her head, "He decided to stay in the city until the reading of the will next week."
Conrad removed the tie from his neck and played with the material. "Thank you for arranging the funeral, it was a beautiful service." He couldn't fault her for her behaviour, she had shown his mother the greatest of respect.
"I loved your mother." The diagnosis of lung cancer had been a shock to them all. Elizabeth had always been the epitome of health, she had never smoked and rarely drank alcohol. The progression of the disease, in spite of the aggressive treatments she underwent, had been a bigger shock. Barely four months after diagnosis, Elizabeth had peacefully passed away in her sleep, mere days after her last Christmas, but her warmth and love had been present to the bitter end. "I'll miss her."
"Thank you," Conrad acknowledged her words, as if she were a mere family acquaintance, but their relationship had reached the point that she may as well have been. His head bowed, in an attempt to hide the tears that had overflowed his cheeks and he sniffed away the rest.
Hesitant, Victoria shuffled across the bed and curled one hand around the back of his neck, gently massaging it. He relaxed into her touch, transported back to yesteryear, when his marriage hadn't been in such shambles and his mother had always been on hand with the right advice to sway Victoria back to him. "Conrad?" At her call, her husband angled his body to face her and Victoria brushed away the tears from his cheek. Grateful for the consolation she brought, Conrad eased his body onto the bed and Victoria curled into his open arms. It wasn't much, but it was a start.