Here's the next installment:
* * *
The ride from the airport was not
relaxing, since it included a stop at the funeral home for a private,
family-only viewing. It was just Hot, the in-laws and his kids, except for
Emily who would be arriving later in the evening from Brussels. Hot sat in the
front row next to Joe with his hands folded on his lap, watching Maggie
kneeling in front of the casket just gazing and dabbing at tears and every once
in a while heaving a sonic sob that broke the silence of the heavily draped and
carpeted room. The kids stayed in the back, speaking softly. Phillip’s latest
girl slouched over two chairs in the back, tapping on her phone and fussing
with her ponytail.
“Lottie was so beautiful, even now,”
said Joe.
Hot nodded, without looking at his
father-in-law.
“It is so…shocking, you know, to see
her like this,” said Joe. “I can’t process it, really. It’s like being inside a
collapsing building--your whole world just falling to dust--you with it. As a
parent…as a parent, nothing can be worse than seeing your child go before you.
I don’t know…I don’t know.” Joe was a shuddering, heaving mass of grief and Hot
found himself putting his arm around the “good” in-law and feeling heartily
sorry for the mess created by a burst artery in a key cranial location.
“I loved Lottie very much,” Hot
said, with immediate regret. Hot hated the obvious and the trite. Of course he
loved Lottie. Of course Joe knew he loved Lottie. But saying so opened a gate
of sensation for Hot, fingers of grief tightening his throat and the stir of
indignation rattled his gut. “Yes, I loved Lottie and I don’t care what Maggie
says.” The shuddering sobs racking Joe’s body subsided and he lifted
tear-streaked eyes and looked Hot straight-on in the face.
“Maggie can be a real shit,” said
Joe. “She doesn’t have much of a filter, but I hope you understand her by now.
She’s wonderful in her way, but her way is kind of hard to take at times. Of
course you loved Lottie. I’ve always known that and so does Maggie, regardless
of what she says. You’re a good guy, Anderson--maybe a little weird, but you’ve
been great for Lottie and we are grateful what you’ve done for our daughter.”
Joe stood up and looked down at Hot and took a deep breath.
“We’re sorry for your loss,
Anderson.”
“Our
loss, Joe.”
“Our loss. Now I think I better go
up with her mom and begin saying good-bye to my daughter.” It was a slow walk
by an old man who slouched behind his kneeling wife. For the first time Hot
could feel tears welling in his eyes and he hunched over alone in the front row
less than 10 feet from the prone form of his wife in a box. He tried to clear
his mind. Of the logistics of Death, the demands of mourners, the suspended
routines of his life. He wished he could meditate but never learned how. He was
sinking sinking into a reduced state of consciousness when he felt a presence
next to him. Nothing seen or heard, just the subtle compression of space when
another person or object alights in proximity. Hot took a deep breath and
expected to see Margot or Phillip when he opened his eyes, but it was the girl.
Hot squinted, suddenly without words. This girl up close was a startling sight.
Metallic rings pierced her lower and upper lips, complemented by multiple loops
of various lengths and thicknesses in each ear. She had a wide pale face with
large, deer-brown eyes and dense black eyebrows. Her hair was a frizzed ball
that somehow terminated in a long frizzed braid in back tied with a black
ribbon. She wore a short black dress with a high neck collar and row upon row
of neck bling of various metals, beads and stones. She wore tight black boots that
laced up to her bare, dimpled knees. She was a large woman, not fat exactly,
but pleasingly voluptuous and quite unlike the skinny, mousy women that Phillip
generally dated, or married. She made a striking appearance.
“Hi, I’m Chloe--I’m with Phillip. I’m
sorry about your wife. Phillip’s all torn up about it--he was close to her, so
he says. Look, I’m not too great at these kinds of things, but I am truly sorry
for the pain you must be going through. Like, I don’t know…”
“Thanks, Chloe. I’m glad to meet
you. I didn’t know that Phillip was dating again. Thank you for coming.” Hot
expected Chloe to retire to her former place in the back, but instead she sat
silently next to Hot, which he found curious. Why wasn’t she back with the
other kids?
“I think Phillip is talking business
with Margie. Not my thing.”
“Her name is Margot. The older
sister,” said Hot. “Tell me, Chloe, is your
mother still alive?”
“I don’t know. She dumped me on my
aunt when I was 13. We didn’t, you know, exactly get along.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, it’s no big deal. My Ma was
a kind of bitch and wasn’t fun to be around when she was on one her tears.”
“She was an alcoholic…”
Chloe let out a chortle then quickly
covered her mouth when those in the room (except, of course…) suddenly stared
in her direction. “I don’t think much about it. Do you want some gum or
something?” Hot shook his head. It was an odd offer. Gum? Why would someone
want gum under these circumstances? Sure Chloe was chewing like a locomotive,
which Hot chalked up to nervousness--meeting the family, seeing the dead
mother, meeting the bereaved husband. The
kids in the back fell silent and the only sound in the room were the occasional
snap of Chloe’s gum chewing. The faint hint of peppermint in the air between
them. Then Chloe resumed playing with her braid, the pull and swish of her
manipulations was something Hot found soothing. He glanced at her as she stared
straight ahead, humming softly to herself. There was a tiny tattoo of a green
alligator on the side of her neck. Exquisite. Her skin was unearthly pale. She
turned her head to him, smiled and shrugged and resumed humming, some tune
unknown to Hot--perhaps improvised.
“You don’t have to sit with me if
you want to go back and join Phillip and Margot. I’m okay--I’m pretty lost in
my own thoughts.”
“I’m fine here. Why would anyone
want to be alone in this situation?”
“I like being alone at times. It’s
never been an issue with me.”
“Okay,” said Chloe, “I guess I’ll go
up and introduce myself to Phillip’s mom.” When Phillip saw Chloe in front of
the casket, he hustled up and stood next to her, placing an arm around her
shoulders. He whispered something in her ear and Chloe nuzzled in closer. They
stood still, gazing at his mom for several minutes before they turned back,
Chloe retiring to the back with Margot while Phillip took a seat next to his
father. Hot was deep in thought, trying to figure out what was coming next. In
a few minutes the viewing would be over and Hot would be driven home and he
prayed there wouldn’t be any guests waiting for him. What about the sleeping
arrangements? Phillip will want his old room…Margot of course. But this strange
girl…
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