The Gunny and Lenore
Chapter 51

Copyright© 2011 by black_coffee

17:40 Thursday, November 22nd, 1991
7914-B Arthur Street
Oakland, CA 94621

She trotted up the wet stairs, feet slick on the dead flower leaves blown and beaten into the treads. Moments later, shoes off, and having seen the Gunny's powder-blue Crown Victoria in the driveway, she called, "Gunny, I'm home!"

"In the kitchen, Lenore," and she slid into the kitchen, her happiness at finding him home draining as she saw his expression. "Your cell phone wasn't on," he said.

"The battery's dying," she answered. "What did I miss?" Only a split second after she asked, she caught her breath, the distress she felt surely reflected in her expression.

Her Gunny nodded. "About an hour ago, Barbara called me at work. We'll need to go see Deb," he said, characteristically concerned about others, and Lenore loved him for it, even as her grief began to rise, threatening to overwhelm her. "Just put your shoes on, Lenore, it'll be appropriate that you're in your SDBs."

"Oh, Deb..." Lenore trailed off.

The Gunny shot her a sympathetic look, and nodded.


Deb returned from the coroner's office. Barbara brought Lenore and Deb tea, while Harry and the Gunny wordlessly drank Bourbon, at six-thirty in the evening. Barbara had ordered a pizza, now cooling, as no one was rushing to eat a second slice.

"You're the beneficiary of everything he had, Lenore," Deb told her, seriously. "I'm the executrix, and he left provision for me to be paid, but we'd last updated his will before ... he and I..." she trailed off, and visibly steeled herself.

"You'll have to let it out, Deb, and soon," Barbara said. "And you're with friends."

Deb gave her a helpless look, and then Barbara got up and fetched another crystal tumbler from the sideboard. She poured two inches of Bourbon into it and brought the amber liquid to Deb. "Drink," she said.

Deb took a sip, and then another, deeper and longer, draining the liquid from the glass, seeming to welcome the burn. "The Joy Redux, his house, and all his policies, his entire estate, Lenore, are yours."

Holy shit. I'll think about that later. Aloud, Lenore heard her voice, somehow composed, say, "I loved him, Deb, and anything of his you want is yours, because I know how much he loved you and I love you too." The sob broke through, just a little, and Lenore opened her arms to Deb. The older woman rushed in, her own choked sob echoing Lenore's.

Minutes later, Barbara, then the Gunny, and finally Harry, embraced Deb and Lenore in turn. "Mom, Dad?" Lenore asked the room at large.

Deb answered, "I told them not to drive here in the rain, it was silly. Tomorrow's soon enough." Lenore nodded.

Barbara spoke gently. "I'll begin the management of the estate tomorrow, Deb, and you can work with the VA for funeral arrangements."

Harry spoke up. "Deb, I'll take on the Navy and ONI."

"I'll spend the day with you," Lenore promised Deb, and the Gunny wordlessly put his hand on Deb's shoulder.


07:05 Friday, November 23rd, 1991
392 7th Ave
San Mateo, CA 94401

Lenore woke in the strange bed, and took a moment to orient herself. The warm body draped across her back felt ... softer than she was used to. I guess this is my bed now, though the Gunny and I haven't slept in it, and that would make the person behind me Deb. And there is no way in hell I could have refused her request to not sleep alone in this house last night. This has to be one of her sleep shirts, which she must have had here already. I don't remember anything after the fourth or fifth Bourbon drink, but I'm not feeling too bad this morning, and my mouth isn't dry, so the Gunny must have gotten me to drink a lot of water. Now, if I could just go pee without waking Deb up...

 
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