Love in the Time of Corona

by Elena Graf

  “I understand,” said Cherie, “but you look fantastic.”

  “Thanks. Can’t go to your father’s funeral looking like a slob.” She gestured to the bags on the bench. “I’m sorry the groceries are so limited. The shelves are still bare. The only chicken I could get is defrosted wings and boneless thighs. There were plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables. What does that tell you? Still no toilet paper though, but I threw in a few rolls from our stash.”

  Cherie brought her clasped hands over her heart to show her appreciation. “That’s so kind of you!”

  Liz nodded. “Lucy wants you to know that she won’t be going to the cemetery. This church funeral is a special favor to you. She doesn’t want someone in town to see her at the graveside with the hearse and think the church is open for business. She said she’ll say the graveside prayers later, hopefully when you can attend.”

  “I understand, and I appreciate the favor.”

  “I’ll call five minutes before we’re actually ready to start so you can get set up.” Liz glanced at her watch. “I’ll see you later…in a manner of speaking.”

  Cherie took a shower and styled her hair. Because she would be witnessing her father’s funeral, she put on makeup and dressed in a fairly nice outfit. Her choices were limited by what she’d brought to Brenda’s.

  She went to wake Brenda, whose eyes were glassy and unfocused when she opened them.

  “Honey, you don’t need to get up for this,” said Cherie, kissing her forehead. “I’ll understand if you want to rest.”

  “No,” said Brenda swinging her feet to the floor. “I want to be with you. I’ll feel better once I take a shower and wake up a little.”

  Cherie read on her iPad outside Brenda’s bathroom while she showered, alert to any indication that she might be weak or in distress. She was relieved to see that, when Brenda came out and began to dress, she looked almost like her old self.

  “You look better.”

  “I feel better.”

  “Probably the steam in the shower helped you breathe more easily. Maybe we should do that when you’re really bad, fill up the shower with steam and you can sit in there for a while.”

  “It does seem to help.”

  “I can ask Liz to bring over the humidifier from my house. I don’t know why I didn’t ask her bring it along with my father’s oxygen tank.”

  “She’ll bring it. Just ask,” said Brenda, putting her foot into her jeans. She swayed a little and flopped onto the bed. “A little dizzy this morning.”

  “You should be careful. You don’t want to add a bump on the head to your other troubles.”

  Cherie held up a jar of Vicks VapoRub. “Look what Liz included in her bag of goodies. I wanted to laugh.”

  “Don’t laugh. My grandmother used to rub that on my chest when I was a kid. It works.”

  “Sometimes Liz is so old fashioned, but that’s what I like about her.”

  “Where do you want to do this?” Brenda asked, slipping her arms into an oversized corduroy shirt.

  Cherie realized she meant where did they want to watch the virtual funeral. “On the sofa in the living room?”

  They went downstairs and settled on the sofa. Cherie wrapped a crocheted afghan around them. “Did someone make this for you?”

  “My grandmother. She used to make them like a human loom. She’d donate them to be raffled at church bazaars. She made this one for me when I went away to college.”

  “That’s nice to have something she made especially for you.”

  The phone rang. Cherie picked up right away because she knew it would be Liz’s five-minute warning.

  “Ready?” asked Liz. “The funeral people just arrived. I’ll call when they’re ready to begin the service.”

  “We’re ready,” replied Cherie. She wondered if Liz knew the call was still open when she heard: “Look guys, wear masks in the church or I’ll ground you both. I can. I’m a medical officer.”

  Brenda snickered. “That’s Liz all right.”

  There was a muffled response from whomever Liz was addressing, followed by a crunching sound. Obviously, Liz had the phone in her pocket. “Jack, if you don’t put on a fucking mask, you’re not going into this church and exposing my friends. Do you get that?”

  Brenda laughed out loud. “Yep, that’s Liz.”

  Although this was the saddest occasion that she could imagine, Cherie laughed.

  “I hope she doesn’t threaten to break their legs,” Brenda said. “Or pull out her gun.”

  Cherie stared at her.

  “Just kidding,” said Brenda. “She follows the rules to the letter. Besides, she knows if she tries anything, I’d yank her permit like that.” Brenda snapped her fingers. “Hang up on her. I don’t think she’d want us to hear what comes next.”

  “This is not the way to start a funeral,” said Cherie, tapping off the call. She swallowed hard to stop the tears.

  Brenda reached out for her hand. “I’m really sorry to be the reason you can’t go.” She turned her face and blocked her cough with the arm of her sweatshirt. Worried, Cherie watched her hack away with the characteristic dry cough of the coronavirus. Brenda’s test, like her own, had come back positive, but Cherie hadn’t needed confirmation of the obvious.

  Cherie squeezed Brenda’s thigh. “I gave it to you. I’m the reason I can’t go. I gave it to Daddy too, and that’s why he’s gone.” The sobs erupted before Cherie could stop them.

  Brenda gently rubbed her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. You didn’t know. No one knew. You thought you were doing everything right. There is no way you could have stopped it.”

  That made Cherie completely dissolve. She buried her face in Brenda’s shoulder and sobbed harder. Brenda stroked her hair and made soothing cooing sounds. Who would have guessed that a tall, muscular cop, carrying a gun on her hip, could be so sensitive?

  The phone ringing made them jump. Cherie picked it up. “It’s Liz. They must be ready to begin.” She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

  “I guess she settled up with whoever wasn’t wearing their masks.”

  Liz was requesting video, so Cherie tapped the pulsing red icon. “I’m here,” said Cherie.

  Liz’s expression instantly changed when she perceived that Cherie had been crying. Her brows came together in a sad frown of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Cherie. I wish I could give you a big hug. We’re all here for you.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Stolz.”

  “Please stop with the Dr. Stolz. Liz, okay?”

  Cherie nodded.

  “Mute your phone,” Liz advised. Her face disappeared, and Cherie was looking into the interior of St. Margaret’s Church. Liz’s voice came through the phone speaker. “My wife is going to sing the entrance hymn accompanied by Lucy’s daughter, Emily.”

  The video cut to a young, red-haired woman playing the piano. Cherie noticed for the first time that Lucy’s daughter was growing up to be the very image of her mother. A soprano voice began to sing On Eagle’s Wings. The video feed switched to Maggie Fitzgerald singing. The camera angle changed to show the casket being brought into the church. The funeral staff was wearing masks. Evidently, Liz had won that argument.

  The camera trained on Lucy, wearing a priest’s choir robes and a white stole. She waited patiently for the casket to approach the front of the church. The funeral staff moved away. Lucy looked right into the camera, which zoomed in on her face.

  “Cherie, as you requested, we are here to honor your father and see him to his rest. All of us care for you and we are here to help you bear your burden. Although you cannot be here with us, you can join your prayers to ours.”

  Cherie began to sob. Instantly, Brenda’s arm was around her, pulling her close.

  Lucy continued to look into the camera as she began the service. “The Lord be with you!
”

  The tiny congregation responded: “And with thy spirit.” Cherie could hear Liz’s voice near the microphone. Liz was praying? That was unexpected.

  Maggie sang Psalm 23 to Emily’s accompaniment. Each of those present read one of the scripture readings. While someone held the phone for Liz, she read too.

  It was an abbreviated service. Finally, Lucy blessed the casket. As it was wheeled out, the camera tracked its progress. Lucy walked solemnly behind the casket, followed by Maggie Fitzgerald singing the exit hymn, Amazing Grace. Behind her was Emily, Lucy’s daughter. The camera caught up with the casket being loaded into the hearse. Cherie realized that this was her last sight of her father’s mortal remains, and her eyes began to fill. The hearse door slammed shut, but the camera angle shifted to Lucy’s face.

  “Thank you, Cherie for the privilege of seeing your father to his rest. We can’t accompany him to the cemetery, but our hearts go with him.”

  Cherie unmuted her phone. “Thank you so much, Lucy. That was the most beautiful funeral I have ever seen.”

  “Stay strong. We’ll see one another soon.” Lucy made the sign of the cross in blessing. “May God bless you, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” Then she put her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss. “We all love you. You too, Brenda! Feel better soon!”

  “We love you too, Lucy!”

  The video feed ended, and Liz’s voice came on the line. “That’s it, Cherie. Hugs from all of us. See you soon. Call me if you need anything.”

  Cherie turned into Brenda’s arms and cried. Brenda pulled her up to her shoulder and held her tight. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. It hurts like hell to lose a parent. I know all about it.” She rocked her back and forth. “It’s okay,” she soothed.

  “I couldn’t even say goodbye,” said Cherie, weeping. “I can’t even go to his grave.”

  “You will. Soon.”

  Cherie sat up and dried her face with the back of her hand. “You must think I’m a big baby.”

  Brenda reached for her face and kissed both tearstained cheeks and her mouth. “I don’t think anything except that you’re hurting, and I understand.” She pulled Cherie back into the crook of her arm. “After my father died, my mother and I were at odds. I hadn’t spoken to her for years. And then she died. You had a good relationship with your father. You loved him and took care of him. He knew you loved him. That’s all that matters, and that’s why it hurts so much.”

  That only made Cherie cry more. Brenda held her tighter, as if that could stop the pain.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Liz made a cup of coffee for herself. She chose the extra-dark blend because she needed something bracing to help her shake off sleep. She’d stayed up with the others to watch Tom Simmons celebrate the Easter vigil service in Lucy’s church. Tom had a boyfriend now, a former television broadcaster, who had some knowledge of camera work. He wasn’t as skilled as Alina, but he had a good eye.

  Although it meant a late night and not very much sleep, Liz was glad she had watched the service. Maggie’s a cappella group, singing together virtually from their homes, had performed beautifully. Tom and Jeff had arranged candles on tall staffs around the darkened church to represent the absent parishioners. It was a dramatic and moving ceremony.

  When Tom had kindled the Easter Fire, Liz had been close enough to Lucy to hear her murmur a little prayer, “Please don’t let them burn down my church!” The little irreverence made Liz smile.

  Liz took her coffee to the enclosed porch to escape the noise of the children squealing over colorful Easter baskets full of sugary treats that would only make them more wired. This year all the goodies had come from the drug store instead of the craft candy shop in Scarborough that made their own chocolate bunnies, jellybeans and peeps. The kids didn’t know the difference, of course, and were no less delighted by the drugstore candy. Alina finally took the children upstairs to dress them. Ordinarily, they’d have new outfits for church this morning, but they only had what they’d brought from their condo. This year, everything about Easter was different.

  Maggie found Liz hiding on the porch and came out to give her a kiss. “Good morning, sweetheart. Happy Easter.”

  Liz muttered something that sounded like “Happy Easter.”

  Maggie brushed Liz’s gray hair back from her face. “You need to let me give you that haircut. How can you stand it?”

  “I can’t. I’m just afraid of what you might do to me.”

  Maggie laughed. “Don’t you trust me by now?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure?” asked Maggie, with mock indignation, hands on hips.

  “Take it easy, Mag. I’ll let you do it tomorrow when there’s not so much going on.”

  “Come out and be sociable,” urged Maggie. “It’s a holiday.”

  Liz grunted. “Okay.” She looked in her cup. Her coffee was gone, so she followed Maggie into the kitchen.

  There was the usual traffic around the island where continental breakfast had been set out. Liz grabbed a brightly colored hard-boiled egg. She peeled the egg and ate it standing at the counter. As she chewed, she watched the activity around her and wondered how they hadn’t already killed one another by now. Ordinarily, Liz’s house guests came and went as they pleased. No one except close family ever stayed more than a week. Yet, after almost a month of living in the same house, people seemed to have adapted.

  Liz grabbed an orange and headed to the media room where the preparations for the Easter Eucharist were underway. The alb and white chasuble Lucy had brought from the church after the funeral hung from a peg on one side of the stage. Liz had managed to find Easter lilies at the supermarket to decorate the makeshift altar. As Liz surveyed the scene from a seat near the back of the home theater, she decided it looked rather festive.

  Erika flopped down in the seat beside her. Liz handed her half of the orange.

  “Thank you,” said Erika. “It’s not easy having a wife in the religion business.” Liz followed Erika’s line of vision to Lucy’s animated gestures as she conferred with Alina.

  “I imagine not,” said Liz, munching on the orange. She wrapped up the napkin full of peelings and stuffed it in her pocket.

  “I see you spiffed up a bit,” said Erika giving Liz the once over.

  “It is a holiday. Just in case I accidently get caught on camera, I don’t want my patients to see my usual Sunday morning attire.”

  Erika chuckled. “No, the ratty workout suit won’t do.”

  Lucy saw them sitting together and approached. “Happy Easter to my favorite heathens.”

  “Technically, a heathen is a believer, but not in your faith. Lucy, I don’t know why you haven’t given up on Liz. She’s quite stubborn. Perhaps more than I.”

  Liz turned to Erika. “I’m not reasonable like you, Professor. I resist out of conviction. I can’t be swayed by a compelling argument or a pretty face.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Erika. “I think in the end, Maggie will be the one to convert you.”

  “Never happen,” said Liz and finished her coffee in one gulp. “Are you sure you want the kids here for this service? They are crazed on sugar this morning.”

  “They’ll be fine,” said Lucy. “Besides, it will be good for the parish to see children on Easter morning. Children are a sign of new life. I’ve asked Katrina to be the acolyte bringing up our stand-in for the Paschal candle.”

  “Oh God,” groaned Liz. “She’s got my entire family wrapped up in her religion business.” Liz glanced at her watch. “Shouldn’t you be getting started soon?”

  “Yes,” said Lucy. “Can you find Maggie for me?”

  Liz found Maggie in the kitchen, putting away the breakfast food. “Lucy is ready for you.”

  Finally, everything was in place. Lucy had on her splendid white vestments. Alina was behind the
camera, and Maggie was poised in front of her laptop to join the virtual choir. Erika and Liz were in charge of the children. Nicki climbed into Liz’s lap. Katrina eyed Erika for similar possibilities but Erika’s stern expression warned her away. “You’re too big for that now, love,” said Erika in a gentle voice to soften the message. “Aren’t you?

  Liz could watch the entire service on the TV overhead. In one of the Zoom windows, the real paschal candle was burning at the empty church along with the candles representing the missing parishioners. The virtual choir sang “Jesus Christ is Risen Today.” In the room, Lucy’s beautiful soprano could be heard singing along, which inspired Liz to join in too. Despite her atheism, she considered herself a cultural Christian and liked the sturdy familiarity of church hymns.

  The camera switched to the livestream of Lucy. “Alleluia! Christ has Risen!”

  Nicki began to suck her thumb and made a pillow of Liz’s breast. When the girl’s eyelids began to droop, Liz knew sleep wasn’t far away.

  The service proceeded to the readings. Even Stefan, atheist without peer, had been recruited and read very well. Lucy had an amazing ability to enlist people in her projects.

  Finally, the time came for Lucy’s sermon. She’d been locked away for hours the day before, so Liz was curious to hear what she had to say.

  As always, Lucy beamed a smile to everyone. “Good morning and happy Easter!”

  “Happy Easter,” murmured the tiny congregation.

  “This is the day the Lord has made! A magnificent day to celebrate life restored from death. The stone has been rolled away and the tomb is empty, but do we believe? Today’s Gospel says, ‘While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.’”

  Lucy paused for effect. She’s so good at this, thought Liz.

  “The resurrection, which we commemorate today, is one of the most difficult doctrines of our faith. It requires that we set aside all that we know about the finality of death and believe that a man could rise from the dead. Have you ever seen anyone rise from the dead?” She looked around. “Neither have I. No wonder the disciples couldn’t believe their eyes. Finally, Jesus broke bread and shared it with them, and they recognized Him. But when he appeared again, they had to feed him some broiled fish to make certain He was real. That specific mention of broiled fish always gives me pause. I wonder if it was good as our Maine haddock.”