book.pdf

by Fha User

  The phone rang several times at the Washington’s before the answering

  machine came on. After leaving a brief message she called information for

  the mortician’s number and waited as the automated voice connected her to

  the funeral home. She did fine answering the mortician’s questions, until

  they got around to where the body was. Helplessness slammed into Vi,

  crushing her dwindling resolve.

  I can’t do this. Her mind screamed as she looked around frantically,

  repeating what the mortician had asked her.

  “Where is he?” She stared at the ceiling, “I don’t know…I…”

  Immediately, Clayton came over and took the phone, speaking into the

  receiver with authority.

  “This is officer Clayton Marshall of the Amityville Police Department. The

  deceased was my friend and my partner. Perhaps I can answer your

  questions.” He listened intently and responded to each question the

  mortician had.

  “Brunswick General morgue.”

  “At 10:00 this morning.”

  “Gun shot wound.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Yes, the number is 789-1346.”

  “Hope Missionary Baptist.”

  “If she doesn’t have one, we have one at the police department.”

  “I believe that will have to wait. I think she needs a little time to make

  those decisions and we haven’t reached all the family members yet.”

  “Yes, tomorrow at 9:30 would be better. Thank you Mr. Jones.”

  Writing some information down on a pad by the phone, Clayton hung up

  and turned to Vi.

  “I told him you would meet him tomorrow at 9:30. I hope that was okay.

  He has enough information for now and he assured me that he would take

  care of everything,” he told Vi.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they would take him to the morgue so soon,” she

  said looking at him apologetically.

  “It’s fine. How would you know? Its just police procedure whenever

  there’s a fatality to take the remains there,” he trailed off.

  36

  Again, it occurred to Vi how good it was to have Clayton Marshall here. If

  he was still in shock over all of this, he hid it well. On some level, she

  realized that every time she felt ready to fall apart, he seemed to be right

  there, stepping in and handling the difficult tasks like a husband or grown

  son.

  Having him with her was like having Craig here and it gave her a measure

  of comfort. Vi got up from the table where she’d been sitting with Cynthia

  and went to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Clayton,

  for all you’ve done today.”

  “Think nothing of it, really. It’s a tough time and I think Craig would have

  wanted me here to help you. So, if it’s okay with you, I’ll hang around for a

  while.”

  She hugged him hard to show her appreciation for being there. The phone

  rang as she absently rubbed his back, as if he were her son. Vi listened as

  Cynthia answered the phone and spoke to Carol.

  “Yes, okay Carol. I’ve got it. Delta flight 74 at 8:49,” Cynthia said as she

  scribbled information on a pad. Before she hung up Cynthia thanked Janae’s

  friend once more and said. “I’m sorry you had to cut your vacation short

  Carol, but we’re so grateful you’re coming home with our Janae.”

  The telephone kept ringing after that and, although she tried the

  Washington’s every half hour, Vi had no luck reaching them or Tony.

  Cynthia and Clayton took turns making the calls that needed to be made from

  there. Once, Vi had to take the phone and try to console her mother, who

  wept uncontrollably. When she finally calmed down, Vi hung up the phone,

  too drained to speak with anyone else. The house began filling with people

  after that, each person carrying some kind of dish or casserole. Sitting by

  herself at the dining room table, Vi wondered. Why do people bring food at a

  time like this? Do they think eating will make the families grieving any

  easier?

  Feeling strangely out of sorts, she was having a hard time grasping the fact

  this was all actually happening to her. Her wandering thoughts created a

  dull ache at the base of her skull. Closing her eyes, Vi placed a hand at the

  back of her neck and began massaging that area to alleviate the pain. It was

  actually starting to work, when suddenly she opened her eyes and looked up.

  For one odd moment, an insane urge struck her and Vi realized she’d been

  about to ask, Did anyone remember to call Craig?

  She quickly clamped her mouth shut, startled that those words had been on

  the tip of her tongue. While she silently berated herself, she acknowledged

  how right it felt to think of him at a time like this. Craig had always been

  there for her.

  37

  Just then, Nicole and Andre walked in and rushed over to where she sat.

  Nicole, who was her right hand at the salon, hugged her tight. Vi listened as

  she explained, unnecessarily, her decision to close the salon for the day.

  When Vi hired Nicole four years ago, they quickly found out how much

  they had in common. She was an excellent stylist and, the two of them were

  very close in age and had a lot in common. Just like Vi had been when her

  husband died, Nicole was a single mom raising her kids on her own. Having

  so much in common, the two women had become very good friends quickly

  and, in some ways, Vi felt closer to Nicole than she did to her own sister.

  When Nicole released her, Andre moved forward and quickly gathered Vi in

  a bear hug. It felt more like a baby bear, as his thin arms came around her

  light as a feather. Because of his alternative lifestyle, Andre, sweet to a

  fault, fit in well with the women at the salon. And like Nicole, Andre was

  more than just an employee Vi thought, as she returned his embrace. They

  were both just like family.

  The hours dragged on. Vi’s parents arrived a little while later needing

  more comfort than she was able to give. Rising to the task, Vi tried her best

  to quiet her mother’s piteous weeping, all the while thinking, I need someone

  to hold me. I need to cry. When will I have time to cry?

  As that desperate plea swept through her mind, she silently wished that

  everyone would leave. Right now! Just get out!

  Just as quickly, she instantly felt ashamed for even thinking such unkind

  thoughts. Vi ushered her mother to a nearby chair and went down on one

  knee beside her just as the doorbell rang again. Steeling herself, she rose and

  prepared to meet whoever it was. As she made her way to the door, Clayton

  touched her elbow gently.

  “Mrs. Simpson, I’ve got Tony on the line.”

  Handing her the cordless phone, he kept his hand on her elbow, guiding Vi

  a short distance away from the gaggle of people in the rest of the house.

  Leading her down the hall, Clay ushered her into the kitchen. Once there, he

  stood in the open doorway with his back to her, shielding her from prying

  eyes in other parts of the house and simultaneously ensuring she had a

  measure of privacy.

  Gripping the phone tight, Vi spoke into the receiver, “Tony?”

  “Mom
, what’s going on? How come Clayton called me? Is everything

  alright?”

  “Tony, Sweetie, listen I have some very bad news to tell you.” She sensed

  the alarm in his voice.

  “What is it mom? Is somebody hurt? Did Janae get hurt?”

  38

  Pausing to gather her courage, Vi quietly responded, “No, honey, .it’s not

  Janae. It’s Craig.”

  “Craig?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Craig was shot today in a holdup and he’s dead, baby.”

  “Dead? Oh, mom, dead? But, but he can’t be. He promised we’d go to

  the Mets game next week.”

  Several seconds passed before Vi called his name through the receiver. It

  was hard for Tony to speak, and when he did, it came out cracked and high

  pitched like it sounded a year ago when his voice was changing.

  “Ah, mom.”

  “I know, honey. I know.”

  Vi heard him crying softly through the phone line. It broke her heart to

  hear him crying and not be able to reach out and hold him. Taking a quick,

  calming breath, Vi spoke to Tony quietly.

  “Tony, listen honey, I need for you to come home right away. Put Mrs.

  Washington on the phone so I can speak with her, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Trying her best to be strong for him, Vi told Tony before hanging up,

  “Honey, I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

  Mrs. Washington came on the line, offered her condolences and promised

  to have Tony home as soon as possible. Vi dried her eyes as she hung up the

  phone and turned around to find Clayton still shielding her from the rest of

  the room. He turned around quietly from where he’d been standing and

  faced her.

  “That was tough.”

  “Yeah,” she acknowledged with a slight nod of her head.

  “Do you want me to go and get him?”

  “No, thank you Clayton, that won’t be necessary. The Washington’s

  assured me he’d be home soon.”

  “Okay, but really it would be no bother. I could leave now and get him for

  you.”

  Appreciation flooded her again and she walked over to him and touched his

  forearm lightly. “I know you would and I really appreciate the offer, but

  he’s not that far and they promised to leave right away. But, if you really

  meant it earlier, I would truly appreciate you picking Janae up at the airport.

  I don’t want to be gone when Tony gets home.”

  39

  “I meant it. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for her as soon as her flight gets

  in.”

  She turned from him then and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. Clayton

  took the chair across from her. After a few seconds passed, he asked her,

  “Can I get you something? Coffee? Food?”

  “No, I couldn’t keep anything down, but you go ahead.”

  “No, I couldn’t,” Just then, Cynthia came in the kitchen and quietly told Vi,

  “Clarence is here.”

  Vi didn’t realize she’d been waiting to hear that name, until it was spoken.

  Clarence Simpson, her father-in-law, was the most beloved man she knew.

  She walked down the hallway toward him. At seventy, Clarence was very

  tall and fit for his age. Milk chocolate skin was stretched over his kind face

  where life left its mark in wrinkles and spots, but the laugh lines around his

  eyes and mouth revealed he’d found joy along with the pain life brought him.

  His hair and beard had long since turned gray, but his eyes were still the

  same warm brown they’d been since the first time she’d met him. Clarence

  was solid as an anchor and gentle as a lamb. Meeting her halfway, he opened

  his arms and enfolded Vi in his embrace.

  “Vi, honey, I’m so sorry,” Clarence told her in his soothing, deep baritone

  voice. She didn’t miss the grief written across his features or the unshed

  tears in his eyes. “I know this hurts, but we can get through this Vi. We

  done this before, you and I. God saw us through then and guess what, he’ll

  see us through again dear.”

  Consoling her parents earlier left Vi feeling drained, but now her spirits

  lifted a fraction. Listening to Clarence’s comforting words was just what she

  needed right now. If anyone knew what she was feeling right now, it was

  Clarence. She thought about another day when the two of them had stood

  just like this, grieving. That was the day she’d lost a husband and Clarence

  had lost a son. She stood in his strong embrace, feeling closer to this man

  than her own father, not at all surprised that his thoughts and feelings

  mirrored her own.

  The evening wore on and an endless number of people came and went,

  bringing more casseroles and desserts. Expressing their condolences, two of

  her neighbors met Vi at the door, handing her a covered dish. Vi accepted it,

  thanked them and quickly made her way to the kitchen to put it with the

  others. On her way to the kitchen, however, she passed the dining room

  window and glimpsed Clayton standing in the front yard. She watched him

  walk across the yard and turn off the sprinkler, which had sat forgotten in the

  same spot, continuously saturating the same area all day long. As he bent to

  pick up the hose, she saw him swipe a hand across his eyes. Vi made her

  way to the front of the house and walked out onto the front porch. Sensing

  40

  her presence, he turned to face her. Vi watched him methodically wind the

  hose around his bent elbow and open palm.

  “You didn’t have to bother with that,” she started to say.

  He broke eye contact and responded quietly, “Yeah, I know. I didn’t have

  anything better to do. Besides, it was getting pretty soggy over here.”

  Not terribly concerned with the saturated ground near his feet, she continued

  to watch him. He was obviously upset and doing a very good job of trying

  to hide it. Vi closed the short distance between them.

  “Clayton, why don’t you come back inside?”

  “No, I’m fine, really,” he cut in quickly, not giving her a chance to finish.

  “I’d better get going anyway if I want to get to the airport on time.” And just

  like that, he dropped the hose in a neatly wrapped pile on the grass, strode

  across the yard, got in his car and left.

  41

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  The pilot announced their pending arrival at Kennedy airport just as the

  seatbelt lights came on. Trays were pushed up and books were quickly put

  away as everyone buckled up and prepared for landing. Watching the

  bright lights of the city below her, Janae wondered idly about her mother,

  and how she was holding up. How was Tony? Were grandma and grandpa

  alright?

  The plane landed safely and everyone rose as the seatbelt light went off.

  Moving down the aisle, Carol and Janae waited patiently as people reached

  overhead to pull down their carry-on luggage. Since 9/11, only passengers

  were allowed beyond the baggage area, so Janae wasn’t concerned that no

  one was waiting at the gate as they got off the plane. Quickly making her

  way through the airport, Janae assumed her family would be at the baggage

  area. When she arrived there, she was totally surprised to see Clayton

  Marshall standing at the
Delta baggage turnstile.

  “Clayton,” Janae cried, dropped her small carry-on bag and rushed toward

  him.

  He opened his arms and gathered her in a huge bear hug. Glad to see him,

  Janae swayed slightly in his strong embrace, her toes lightly grazed the

  carpet beneath her feet. Several moments passed as they held onto one

  another, totally oblivious to the crowd of people rushing by, anxious to be on

  their way. After a few moments, he placed his large hands on both of her

  shoulders, setting Janae away from him. He stared down at her and it was

  obvious she’d spent the entire flight crying.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I keep thinking this can’t be happening.”

  Lowering her eyes, Janae trailed off, unable to finish her thought. Clayton

  gathered her in his arms again and Janae clung to him, this time doubling her

  arms around the back of his neck, as overwhelming grief washed over her.

  Although this was the first time the two of them had ever really embraced, it

  felt oddly familiar. Since her brother, Craig, and this man had become

  roommates four years ago, she’d secretly dreamed of being in Clayton’s

  arms, just like this. It crossed Janae’s mind now, how peculiar that it should

  happen at a time like this. No one knew about the huge crush she’d

  developed for Clay, except Janae’s best friend. Over a zillion times she’d

  42

  thought about acting on her feelings for him, but something in the way Clay

  treated her made Janae hesitate. Although he was a bit older—ten years to

  be exact—Clayton had always treated Janae like a baby sister. Like Craig’s

  baby sister.

  She tightened her arms around his neck and lost herself in the moment,

  completely forgetting where they were until someone brushed against her.

  Immediately breaking the spell, she turned to see an elderly woman reach for

  a suitcase as it moved slowly along the turnstile. Suddenly ashamed of

  herself, Janae released her hold on Clayton and abruptly moved out of his

  embrace. Remembering why he held her, Janae struggled to compose herself

  and mentally push her personal feelings aside.

  When they separated Clayton shook hands with Janae’s friend, Carol. He

  helped them collect their luggage and carried all four bags with ease as they