by Mark Gunther
Jake and Ev were already at the head table. Jake was perfect but Evelyn was breathtaking, in strapless white satin that barely contained her. They were surrounded by old friends. Joy saw Max, and Bobby. Amanda was there with her husband, and Sarah with her wife Janice. That had been hard for Joey, at first, but now Sarah was six months pregnant and Joey was happy as a clam. This is as it should be, Joy thought, as Danny guided her to their table. Joey and Leah and Elaine were there with Lizzie and George, and Carly with her husband Jackson, married twelve years already. Thank God Carly’s not alone anymore, Joy thought. She felt Hiram’s laugh in her chest and his spirit was in her heart.
Daddy, you would have loved this party. But now you’re with Jenny and we’re the old ones; old, but still alive.
Jake stood and raised his glass. The room quieted.
“It’s impossible to have the joy of this day without acknowledging the person who should be here, who would have been sitting right here, next to me. Maybe her daughter would have carried the rings. Only a few of the people in this room actually knew Jenny, but I hope that you all think of her as a part of our family. My parents suffered greatly in those years, especially Mom, and I know that suffering still is with them, every single day.”
He choked up. Evelyn put a hand on his arm. She stood up, right next to him, as close as she could get, arm around his waist, shoulder to shoulder, just the way he had learned from his parents. They turned toward Joy.
“Mom, you are my hero. I am so grateful to you for keeping Jenny real for me.”
Joy grabbed at Danny’s arm like she was caught in an avalanche, forcing his muscles to contract against the pressure. She had the honor of her son’s love. Every moment of every day of every year of loss and fear and anger and guilt and compassion and love and humility flooded her body. Tears poured from her eyes. She weakly held up a hand to Jake as he led the assembly in lifting their glasses to her. Cheers and applause echoed through the room. Jake put the mike down, walked over to his mother, and extended his hand. The DJ played a foxtrot. They danced. Danny danced with his new daughter-in-law. Then they each danced with her parents and together and eventually with everyone else in the room.
The party was super fun and went on for a long, long time. First was swing dancing. Then they did Jewish folk dances. Eight men lifted the bride and groom in chairs and danced around with them while Ev and Jake were holding two ends of a handkerchief. Joy was relieved that went well. Then they ate a big meal and many heartfelt toasts were raised. After dinner, Evelyn threw the bouquet, and then everyone danced nonstop through two straight sets of high-powered rock and roll. Lots of champagne was consumed. Much later, after Jake had carried Ev out the door to raucous catcalls from their friends, and all had said their goodbyes, Joy sat in Danny’s lap in the nearly empty room. They watched the DJ pack up. The hotel staff were clearing tables and stacking chairs.
“I wish she could have seen this,” Joy said.
“I know. She would have had a really good time.”
“I liked what Jake said about her daughter having the rings.”
“That’s a nice thing to imagine,” Danny agreed. “Maybe she’s watching.”
“We should have had the wedding outdoors.”
“I think she found her way on her own, if she came.”
“We should have invited her.”
“Oy,” Danny said. “We’re still talking about the same things, aren’t we?”
Joy pulled out a clip and shook her head. Long silver hair fell to cover her shoulders.
“Every damn day,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “We didn’t get to pick that.”
“Still,” she said, “it would have been nice if she had lived to see this day.”
“God yes,” Danny said, and his face got that look and she worried that maybe she had pushed it too far, but he just said, “I’m glad our family did, Joy. Things were touch and go for a while.”
She felt a subtle echo of Dead Jenny’s voice. “I never would have left Jake, Danny.”
“You didn’t. Besides,” he said, “Stockton was getting really boring. I would have come to my senses.”
She punched him in the shoulder, but then leaned into him. He wrapped her up, and she felt a hand far inside her dress that pulled her to the sweet radiance of a kiss filled with all their years.
And Jenny.
Acknowledgments
Although this novel truly began with the death of my daughter Eva in 1997, it started to appear on the page in 2011 during a single twenty-minute exercise during a course at San Francisco’s Writing Salon taught by Chris deLorenzo. Then it didn’t stop coming. The writers Sherrill Jaffe Lew and Catherine Brady encouraged me to have faith in what I was writing. Early readers, notably Barbara Melson, Mady Schutzman, Steven Kahn, Marty Ollstein, Teresa Burns Gunther, Sarah Kahn and Marsha Douma offered gentle but pointed comments. The generosity of thought given in workshop by my fellow University of San Francisco MFA students cannot be overstated. Writers and teachers Lewis Buzbee, Elizabeth Rosner, Nina Schuyler and Catherine Brady engaged deeply with the manuscript, honing both my intent and my craft. John Koehler, Joe Coccaro, Marshall McClure, Carol Gaskin, and Shari Stauch helped bring this work to the public. The young women of the Eva Gunther Foundation—Alissa Bernstein and Della Leapman—carry Eva’s love forward, and Emma Mayerson has made her legacy real at Alliance for Girls. My parents Richard and Lois Gunther survived the trying years of my youth; I’m grateful their long lives have allowed them to see this text. My daughter Sophie Gunther constantly teaches me that being alive is enough; her patience in dealing with her broken parent has been remarkable. Finally, for over forty-five years Anne Krantz has been my guide and follower, my mentor and student, my lover and friend. I would be a sallow man indeed without her in my life.
And to Eva Leah Gunther, our oldest: long gone, sadly missed. Your short time here showed me the meaning of love.