by Fha User
coasted by on Route 110. Across the street a bus was stopped at the corner
picking up passengers, most of them elderly citizens and mothers with baby
carriages.
“Well, that settles it,” she told him as they walked toward Clarence’s car, a
large Chevy station wagon.
Clarence shot her a questioning look, “What’s that?”
Looking to him for confirmation, she told him, “Well, I was going to put
off getting Craig’s things together, but maybe the sooner I do it the better.”
“You sure you’re up to that today?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she continued, “Besides, we need to get his clothes back
here by 5:00 today, before the mortuary closes.”
“Okay, if you’re sure, I’ll go over there with you.”
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As they drove over to Craig’s apartment Clarence and Vi talked about
Craig, reminiscing on some of the times that stood out in both their minds.
“Remember the time his team won All State Champion in his senior year?”
“Yeah, I remember. I loved going to those games. He was quite a short
stop.”
“How about the time he paid a scalper $250 for those Luther Vandross
tickets because the show was completely sold out?”
“Oh my, do I? I remember nagging him nonstop about blowing his first
full paycheck on it even if—as he put it—his date was ‘really hot’.”
Clarence pulled up to the apartment complex, shut off the engine and
turned to face Vi. Reaching for her hand, he enclosed it in his large, age-
spotted palm. “Before we go in there, I want you to know that if it gets
difficult for you, I’ll be there with you and so will Clayton.” Pausing to gain
control of his own emotions, he eyed her solemnly before continuing. “Vi,
we both know it’s not easy being a parent, and times like these are some of
the hardest. But we need to remember we had Craig for twenty four
wonderful years and nothing can take that from us.”
Vi reached over and touched his weathered cheek, wondering how it was
possible to love this man more than she already did.
Clayton strode to the door, answering it on the second knock. Freshly
shaven, he opened the door wearing jeans that hung a bit low on his hips and
nothing else.
“Mrs. Simpson,” he said in surprise. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by
this morning.” He grabbed a shirt hanging on the coat tree next to the door
and quickly put it on. Not bothering to button it, Clay stepped aside,
allowing Clarence and Vi to enter the apartment. Momentarily, her gaze
traveled over him, stopping when she reached his eyes. His eyes were tired
and red and he looked like he’d had a rough night.
Vi said hello as she crossed the threshold and gave him an affectionate hug.
A faint, woodsy aftershave lingered in the air and she noticed the subtle
change in him from yesterday. Yesterday he’d seemed strong and solid, but
today he looked slightly vulnerable. When they parted, Clayton turned
toward Clarence, giving him a strong, firm handshake.
“Clarence, good to see you again,” Clay replied.
“Clayton, how are you holding up, young fellow?” Clarence gave Clayton
a solid clap on the back in greeting, walked briskly inside and sank down
onto the soft, leather sofa. “We’re sorry to barge in like this, but Vi forgot
her cell phone so we couldn’t call you ahead of time. The funeral home
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needs some of Craig’s things and we thought it might be best to try and get
some of his things together today, if that’s alright with you.”
“It’s fine with me, I just…” he trailed off, reluctant to finish what he’d
been about to say.
Sensing his hesitancy, Vi urged him to speak freely about whatever was on
his mind. “No, don’t stop, please finish what you were about to say.”
“I just thought this would be pretty hard on you and that maybe Tony or
Janae would be here to help you.”
Hearing the concern in his voice, Vi tried her best to reassure him she was
going to be okay. Besides the fact she hadn’t actually planned to do this
today either, she certainly couldn’t have enlisted the kids help this morning.
Last night had been a particularly rough night for both of them. Wearing a
brave smile, she spoke to him reassuringly. “They were asleep when I left
this morning. We all had a pretty rough night. Anyway, Clarence is here.
“Well, I can stick around and help out too,” Clayton volunteered.
“Clayton, please don’t feel like you have to hang around and help us. I
know you must have things to do.”
“No, I don’t mind helping. Really,” he assured Vi, then sat down on the
sofa opposite Clarence, facing the older man.
She watched him talk quietly with Clarence, offering to help them in any
way he could and deciding which room to tackle first. Thinking about what
he’d been about to say made her think of her children. Unable to sleep, Tony
and Janae had climbed into her bed during the night. However, out of all of
them, she knew this young man probably had the toughest time last night.
After all, he’d been closest to Craig for the past four years, sharing an
apartment and working together. She imagined it must have been very hard
for him to walk into this apartment last night. Not voicing those sentiments,
Vi walked over to the sofa. Always the gentlemen, Clayton stood up
immediately so she could sit down. Vi shook her head to indicate that she
was fine standing. She smiled at him as a sudden thought struck her. “Did
you eat my spaghetti last night?”
She watched as he placed a strong hand to his mid-section, where his shirt
lay open. Managing a slight smile, he rubbed the long fingers of his left hand
against an extremely flat abdomen. “Yes, ma’am, I ate all of it this morning.
It was real good, thank you.”
Looking away, Vi’s eye wandered around the living room until she spied
his cordless phone base, sitting on a small glass and chrome end table. When
Vi asked to use his phone, Clayton promptly retrieved the cordless phone
from the kitchen counter where he’d left it earlier.
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After punching in the salon’s phone number, Vi was mildly surprised when
Cynthia answered on the first ring. Some of the anger she’d felt earlier crept
into her voice when she spoke to her sister.
“Cynthia, I’m at Clay’s gathering some of Craig’s things. I tried you at
home this morning, when I found out what you did.”
Cynthia heard the suppressed annoyance in Vi’s voice right away. Playing
for time, she responded slowly, “Vi, what on earth do you mean?”
Losing patience with Cynthia’s feigned innocence, Vi lost no time getting
right to the point. “Why did you go behind my back and make my son’s
funeral arrangements?”
“But Vi, I…”
“What gives you the right to do such a thing?” Cutting her off, Vi
deliberately lowered her voice, desperately trying to reign in her temper.
“Vi, honey, I’m sorry. I thought I was doing you a favor, what with
everything’s that’s happened.”
Vi felt herself losing it all o
ver again. What Cynthia did this morning was
typical of what she always did—take charge. No matter whose feet she
stepped on, Cynthia always felt it was her right to take charge. Lowering her
voice to a firm whisper, she spat out. “You had no right.” Then, gaining
some of her composure back, Vi told her pointedly. “In any event, we were
able to change everything so I guess there was no real harm done.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
The fact her father-in-law remained close to the family even after Vi’s
husband had died annoyed Cynthia, and Vi knew this. However, Cynthia’s
inquiry took Vi by surprise, so she answered honestly, “Clarence and I.”
There was no reply, so Vi filled the void. “Cynthia, before you leave today,
have Nicole call and reschedule everyone for the rest of the week. Then go
ahead and close the shop early. In fact, if Nicole is there, let me speak with
her.”
Cynthia took it upon herself to act as second in charge when Vi wasn’t at
Nu U Salon and the fact that Vi asked to speak with Nicole directly was not
lost on her. Suspecting Vi was still angry with her for making the funeral
arrangements, Cynthia handed the phone to Nicole, silently fuming.
In the background, Vi heard Andre yell, “Is that Vi?”
Nicole mumbled something she couldn’t hear, then her voice came back
clearly in the receiver. “Andre sends his love. How are you and the kids
holding up?”
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“Oh, as good as the circumstances will allow. We forced ourselves to get
up this morning, take a shower and eat. It was more than any of us wanted to
do.”
“It’ll be rough for a spell Vi, but we’re all here for you.”
Appreciating the genuine concern in Nicole’s voice, Vi smiled wryly.
More than an employee, over the past few years Nicole had become one of
Vi’s closest friends. “My kids slept with me last night, Nicole. My kids
haven’t done that since they were in grade school. They curled up on my bed
and we talked about Craig till it was almost daybreak.”
“You must be exhausted, girl. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything and call
you later.”
Hanging up the phone, Vi stomach roiled as she walked back into the living
room. Hearing the unladylike noise, Clarence and Clayton looked up as she
entered the room.
“Sorry guys,” she apologized. Vi suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten in
over 24 hours and got Clarence up so early, he probably didn’t have a chance
to eat either. In a mildly embarrassed tone, Vi addressed the two men.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but when my stomach makes those
noises, it’s definitely time to eat.”
Clarence smiled in agreement and confirmed that he didn’t have time this
morning for anything but a cup of coffee. Clayton denied being hungry
when Vi asked him, but she quickly insisted that he needed to eat too. Vi
decided to run out and pick up breakfast at the bagel place on the corner.
Clarence stood up and immediately offered to go with her, suggesting they
stop at the supermarket while out there and to pick up some more boxes.
While they were gone, Clay wandered around the apartment. After a few
minutes, he ended up in the kitchen. Pulling out a chair, he sat down at the
kitchen table and paid a few bills. When that was done, he got up and
decided to get a head start boxing up Craig’s things. He started in his
bathroom.
Big mistake!
Craig’s shaver sat on the sink, as if it were waiting for him to amble out of
bed and use it just like he’d done hundreds of mornings in the past. His
toothbrush still hung in its holder over the bathroom sink. Gripping the sink,
Clayton squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the sense of loss that seemed to
assail him at the oddest times. This is how Vi found him.
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CHAPTER
EIGHT
Using the key Clayton gave her before they left to pick up breakfast, Vi
opened the apartment door. While Clarence retrieved the bigger boxes from
the car, she’d taken breakfast and a few smaller boxes in her arms. Entering
the apartment with her arms full, Vi called out to Clay as she closed the door
with her foot. When he didn’t answer, she set her burden down on the living
room coffee table and walked down the hall looking for him.
“Clayton? They were all out of bagels, so Clarence went over to
McDonalds to get breakfast sandwiches and coffee,” her words trailed off as
she came upon him in the bathroom.
It was a bachelor’s bathroom. Masculine colors dominated the walls and
the scent of cologne and shaving cream permeated the air. But those things
paled in comparison to what she encountered as she got closer to the open
bathroom door.
Clayton was in front of the bathroom mirror, slumped over the sink. He
was unaware of her presence, and she took in his drooping shoulders and
watched as they shook slightly. Vi looked at his reflection in the mirror, his
head was down but she could see tears running freely down his face. His
solitary sadness touched her deeply. Approaching him from behind, she
slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek between his shoulder
blades, holding him in comfort. He’d never gotten around to buttoning the
shirt he donned earlier and her fingers came in contact with his bare chest,
where his shirt lay open.
When she touched him, he sucked in a sharp breath and his arms fell to his
sides. Clay squeezed his eyes closed as she held him like this, and neither of
them said a word. Outside of their breathing, the only other sound in the
room was a bird singing outside the bathroom window. Finally, he drew in a
fortifying breath, expelling it with a harsh shudder. “You know, I don’t think
I realized it until yesterday. I loved him like a brother, but I never told him.”
“Clayton, he knew it and I know he felt the same way.”
“But I never told him, ya’ know?”
“You told him in so many countless ways,” she told him reassuringly. “I
can’t count how many times he told me you worked on his car, or covered
his shift so he could get away for the weekend.” When he didn’t respond,
she continued to try and convince him. “And how many times did you wash
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his car just because you were out there in that parking lot washing your own?
Believe me, he knew it.”
“Yeah, but… but I never told him. I’ve never been good with these
things.”
This last statement escaped his throat in a ragged whisper and her mother’s
heart wrenched at his desolate admission. It was unbearable to think that
love had been so absent in his childhood. Removing her arms from around
him, she grabbed his shoulders and turned him around to face her. “Think
about it. Did he ever say it to you?” When he didn’t say anything, she
looked into his eyes. Searching his face, she spoke earnestly, trying to
ensure he would hear and understand what she was about to say. “Clay,
even brothers by blood have a hard time saying they care about one another,”
she reasoned. “Most men are uncomfortable exp
ressing their feelings—it’s
normal. Trust me when I say to you, Craig felt the same way about you. I
can remember several times he came over for dinner and refused to take
leftovers home unless I had enough left for you too.”
“Yeah, but...”
“No buts. Since the two of you moved in together, not one holiday
celebration went by without Craig making sure you were invited. He’d say,
‘ Mom, don’t forget to invite Clay. If he’s not on duty, he’ll spend the holiday
alone, if we let him.’” Searching his face to ensure he really understood,
“So, stop beating yourself up?” she implored, touching his strong chin with
the tip of her fingers.
In that moment, the air in the room seemed to heat up noticeably. Clayton
felt as if his nerve endings were tingling from some unseen electrical current
in the room. They stared into each other’s eyes, for what seemed like
forever. Was she aware of this change? This awareness, this shift in the
atmosphere? If she was, she quickly hid it behind a nervous smile, chucking
him on the chin with her fist playfully.
“Now, do you feel better?” she asked him encouragingly.
He couldn’t have uttered a word if he’d wanted to. Suddenly his throat
clogged up and every muscle in his body tensed in reaction. When he
nodded, she stepped back, giving his shoulders a quick squeeze for good
measure before releasing him.
A short time later, they rejoined Clarence and sat at the kitchen table to eat
McDonald’s and talk about the arrangements made earlier that day.
“Oh, by the way Clayton, the funeral home mentioned we needed
pallbearers.” Vi searched his face when she said, “We were wondering if
you could talk with the officers that were close to Craig at the station, and
see if they would be willing.”
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Clay cut off her inquiry and quickly offered. “Of course, I’d be glad to.
I’m sure Stokes and Piterrelli would be more than willing.”
“Good. And what about you Clayton, would you also consider being a
pallbearer?”
He looked at her seated across from him at his small, oak kitchen table and
said. “I’d have been insulted if you hadn’t included me Mrs. Simpson. I’d