by L. B. Dunbar
My heart rips at the honesty.
“How can you even look at him?” Chopper directs to me, his face horrified by what he’s learned. “It had to have hurt like nothing else.”
“It did hurt, more than I can ever describe.” My eyes shift to Brut who has closed his. His fingers curl to fists as they rest on the steel table. “But it’s called forgiveness, honey. I had to forgive them, if for no other reason than to allow myself to move on.”
Chopper’s forehead furrows as he ponders what I’ve said for a second. His eyes jump to mine, filled with their own well of pain.
“You must hate me,” he chokes on the quiet statement. I circle the island instantly, reaching for his face and cupping it gently between my hands.
“I’ve told you before that I love you, and I don’t say those words lightly. You are part of me by the nature of being my sister’s son. I do not, nor have I ever, held what they did against you. Like I said—forgive. Bitterness can eat you up if you let it, honey. I’ve seen it in so many people. It hurts no one other than the person who bears the bitterness, and I…I just don’t live my life like that.”
Chopper nods within my clasp, and I lean forward to kiss his forehead despite his manly size.
“You’ll need to forgive her as well,” I offer. “If you resent Lauren…her leaving you, her death before you could see her…it will only eat at you, and Lauren wins a victory she does not deserve.”
Chopper tips his head again, his eyes closing at my words. A tear slips from the corner, and my thumb is quick to brush it aside.
“I just wanted to know why.”
“Some questions we will never have answers for. Call it destiny or fate or a sign. It just is what it is, and we can dwell, or we can move on. You only need to live your life, honey, and not worry or wonder about the reasons behind others.”
Chopper’s eyes remain closed, but another tear leaks out. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him and pull him against me. He doesn’t embrace me back at first, and that’s okay. But he needs my comfort, so he slowly raises his arms and encircles my waist. He shudders in my arms.
I can’t see Brut because he’s behind me. I have no idea how he feels about what I’ve said or how I’m acting toward his son, but at this moment, I feel a young man hurting, and that’s all I’m aware of until a hand comes to my lower back and I sense Brut beside me. I peek around Chopper’s head to see Brut’s hand cupping the back of his son, stroking through his hair in a soothing manner.
While I don’t want to let go, I know that Brut needs in, and Chopper needs his father. I slide back enough for Brut to hold the majority of his son with an arm around his shoulder. He tugs, and Chopper falls to the side, collapsing into this father’s chest with his head. I release Chopper, allowing Brut to take over as his son tugs at his dad’s tee, willing away the tears but unable to tamper a sob or two.
Normally, I’d expect a hug between two men to be awkward—one between a father and his grown son potentially strained—but Brut is holding his son like he’s had a lifetime of embracing this boy, no matter the age. He kisses the top of his head without shyness or hesitancy.
“I love you,” he mutters to his child, and my heart breaks all over again from the tenderness and sincerity. “We’ll get through this.” The collective we shows Brut’s solidarity with his son, and I sense this statement is one Brut’s said too often in his life. He’s gotten through so many things, but I understand at some point, you wish for more than merely getting by.
I watch in wonder at the display of affection before me, still shattered by the love of father and son, and children I’ve never had, but also overwhelmed with the rightness of Brut and Chopper, and the fact they need one another. Brut turns his head to rest against his boy’s and looks at me.
“Thank you,” he mouths. I sense Brut feels he owes me, and I want to remind him he owes me nothing. Witnessing him with Chopper puts everything into perspective for me. Life has happened as it should.
29
Funerals aren’t supposed to be sexy
[Brut]
It’s been two days of hell. Lauren made Chopper the executor to her estate. What a crock. Does she even own anything? This news enlightens us that he’s therefore responsible for her funeral. I’d like to find a cardboard box and set her out to sea, but I keep my comments to myself. Instead, I go with Chopper to the Cochran Funeral home in Sun Valley. Lily joins us.
Chopper seems to be relying heavily on Lily for some reason, but after the other night in her bakery kitchen, I see the connection between her and my son is strong.
“I love you,” she easily told him. As if the words were so simple. As if he were her child.
I find strange relief in Lily’s presence although we keep our distance. Without speaking, we both agree the focus needs to be on Chopper. He needs our support in any manner to get through this bizarre turn of events.
Chopper has the awful experience of picking out a coffin but declines decisions about the service. Crystal has been rather open in explaining Lauren had few friends, and she doesn’t suspect the funeral will be large. Chopper’s agreed to an open casket viewing for a half-hour with a brief prayer service followed by a short funeral procession to the closest cemetery. Whatever her reasons were to go to Sun Valley, Lauren will rest here eternally.
I’m rather proud of Chopper. He’s acting like an adult while I sense the child inside him. He’s freaked out by his decisions but keeps his calm. He doesn’t understand why he has this responsibility from someone who never wanted him. If she wasn’t already dead, I’d kill Lauren and pay whatever consequences.
The morning of the funeral, Hank drives Midge, Chopper, and me to the funeral home. They decided to attend as moral support. Knowing our whole past, Hank understands this is a crazy situation, one I still don’t fully have my head wrapped around. He’s turning into a good brother; not like he wasn’t before, but he’s stepping it up with Midge by his side.
This will be the first time Chopper has ever seen his mother, and his nerves show in how he jiggles his knee in the back seat next to me. I’m tempted to tap him, to make him stop like I’ve had to do during parent-teacher conferences or when I was once called into the principal’s office, but I don’t dare touch him today. Let him have his anxious moment. I’m scared out of my mind, as well. I haven’t seen Lauren in twenty-two years either. This isn’t exactly how I pictured seeing her again.
When we arrive at the funeral home, I feel strangely numb as though I’m doing something I don’t want to do but have to. I have no desire to attend a service commemorating the end of a person’s life. I was able to find my suit still fits although I’m certain it’s outdated. Chopper and I agreed he didn’t need a suit if he didn’t want one, so he wore a black button-down with black jeans and his heavy boots. I’m fidgeting with the buttons on my coat as we approach the front doors.
As we enter, everything hits me when I see Lily. She’s dressed in a shapely black dress, cutting just above her knees with short cap sleeves over her shoulders. Her neck is exposed, and my mouth waters to kiss her at the juncture I know will turn her to putty. It’s inappropriate, but she looks amazing and even offers a weak smile when she sees me. Then her attention shifts to Chopper who walks into her open arms.
Like the night at the bakery, I want to hold them both. The other night, I held off on touching Lily other than a hand on her back, signaling my presence, but my body hummed to envelop them collectively. Eventually, Lily relinquished Chopper to me. Today, I want to wrap them in my arms and get us the hell out of here. Instead, I step forward when Chopper steps out of her embrace.
“Lily.” I address her too formally as I choke on the second half of her nickname, swallowing it back. Hank knows I spent my vacation week with Lily. He also knows we fought and have come to an unspoken truce during all that’s happened for the sake of Chopper. Still he wastes no time intercepting her.
“Lily,” he says a little too loudly and a little to
o enthusiastically. “How was your vacation?” Forget the funeral, he’s going to drag us back more than a week to when life was good. I want to take Hank out with my fists and then throw him in the coffin with Lauren. Asshole.
“It was wonderful,” Lily teases, raising a brow at him before looking over at Midge. “One day, we’ll need to share stories about it.” Her other brow rises, emphasizing the stunt these two pulled by somehow arranging our vacation together. Hank chuckles and Midge pinks, but now isn’t the time for answers. Has it only been ten days since Lily and I were secluded in our bubble of bliss? It has.
Hank interrupts my thoughts when he speaks to Lily again, touching her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
My head pops up as if the question is foreign to me. In all the chaos, it’s something I haven’t asked Lily, and now, I want to punch myself instead of Hank. This is her sister. I have no idea if they’ve spoken over the years although she told me she knew nothing about Lauren’s condition or her whereabouts. Either way, Lily must have her own demons and torments about this day, and I’ve been so absorbed in Chopper I haven’t paid her the attention she’s due. Is she grieving? Is she confused like Chopper? Does she need me?
“Oh, I’m fine.” She waves off Hank and brushes a piece of her butterscotch colored hair behind her ear. Her hair has a curl to it I haven’t seen before as if she did it up for today. Some special occasion, I think as I watch my brother lean forward and kiss Lily’s cheek. I’m back to wanting to punch him.
Midge steps up next and embraces Lily, speaking low into her ear. Lily nods against my sister-in-law, and a pang of jealousy courses through me. Everyone’s touching her when I want to be the one holding her. My anger at first learning Lily knew Chopper and then the reveal of Lauren’s death has dissipated to respect for Lily’s kindness toward my son. Then it returned to the longing I’ve had for her, especially after our week together. I miss her something fierce.
Chopper waits just inside the viewing room, still as a statue. I nod at Lily, fisting my fingers in my pockets so I don’t reach out and drag her to me. Nearing my son, he turns to me, and the fear in his eyes breaks me. He looks wounded beyond anything I can fix, and my heart rips to shreds. Damn Lauren. That’s right, God damn her to hell for what she’s doing again—abandoning Chopper. I reach for his shoulder.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to go any farther if you don’t wish,” I offer. Chopper nods, his eyes searching for Lily. She has stepped around me, standing close enough I can smell her fresh air fragrance. Summer rain. Sunshine. Something fruity. My thoughts leap to ten days ago and us dancing on the deck of the beach house. I’ve never wanted time to roll backward more than I do at this moment.
Lily holds out a hand, and Chopper curls his fingers within his aunt’s. It’s strange to think of her in this manner or have him acknowledge it, but a twinge of comfort comes to me as Lily leads my son to see his mother for the first and last time.
“She doesn’t look how I imagined her,” he says. Lauren was very opposite her sister with her once raven black hair, cold blue eyes, and more angular features than the roundness her younger sibling once had. Her hair has grayed, and her face looks swollen. I can’t see her eyes, and I’m thankful. Lily looks up at Chopper.
“What did you think she would look like?”
“In my head, I envisioned you.” His voice breaks, and I’m not certain if it’s sorrow or relief. I’m glad Lauren looks nothing like Lily. The contrast is refreshing, and hopefully, Chopper will continue to separate the two women in his head.
Lily smiles weakly, her mouth falling open like she wants to tell him something, but then she changes her mind. We step aside as an older woman comes forward. Lily stays to the right of the coffin, greeting the woman who introduces herself as a nurse. She doesn’t have much to offer about Lauren other than she didn’t suffer much. I take no comfort in what I hear. I don’t wish pain and injury on Lauren, but I don’t have any sympathy for her either. Instead, all my thoughts circle around Lily and my son.
Minutes later, the funeral director comes to the opposite side of the coffin and begins a short prayer. I admit my mind wanders off, drifting with the lull of his monotonous voice. I’m slammed in the chest with the vision of Lauren sidling up to me and seducing me. Her mouth near mine, telling me Lily won’t mind. She was a woman, and Lily was a child. I remember fighting her off, but later, I’m in a back room with her. I remember whimpering Lily’s name as I did what I shouldn’t have done, and all the while Lauren encourages me to take what I need.
“That’s right. Think of Lily.” Her slurred voice rattles through my head like ice cubes in an empty glass. Cold surrounds me, and I shiver. Midge’s hand comes to my hand, but I don’t respond to her touch. Instead, I look over at Lily, my heart racing within my chest. Sweat trickles down my temple despite the chill, and I want Lily’s hand on me. I need her warmth to still the coolness covering my flesh. I’m staring at her, unabashedly, ignoring what’s happening around us. She’s a seat over from me, on the other side of Chopper, but I can’t let up. My eyes refuse to tear away from her as if Lauren might wake up, cackle like the witch she was, and steal Lily away from me, steal my son. My eyes shift to him, and I draw the outline of his face, taking in his floppy hair, his thick nose like mine, and his blues eyes, thankfully soft and sorrowful like his aunt and not penetrating like his mother’s.
Quickly, the service ends, and we stand. The director asks if we’d like to say a final word before they close the casket, and Chopper declines. We’re ready to exit the main room when the director announces he needs pall bearers. The funeral attendees number only a few with the nurse, Crystal, and a man no one asks about. The rest of the people are my family. Hank, Chopper, and I step forward although the last thing I want to do is touch the coffin. I don’t want Chopper to either, as if holding the handle will somehow bring him into contact with Lauren on some level.
We wait outside as the coffin is prepared and then assist in lifting the wooden rectangle into a hearse. Hank says he will follow in his car, which leaves Lily behind us. Alone. I don’t like this setup.
“Lily, ride with us,” I say with a sternness to my voice, practically demanding her.
“I don’t want to leave my car here.” She dismissively waves, but I don’t like the crack in her voice.
“You should go with her,” Chopper states, and I find myself stuck between knowing I should comfort my son and wanting to be near Lily.
“No, I’ll go with you,” I say, but I’m still looking back at her car behind Hank’s.
“Why don’t we both ride with Lily?” he suggests, and I want to tackle hug him. Instead, I nod and stalk toward her car. She’s already in the driver seat, but I open the door without permission.
“What the…?” She curbs her tongue as Chopper rounds her car to the passenger side.
“I’ll drive.” I hold out my hand to help her out of the car, and Chopper climbs into the back seat.
“This isn’t necessary,” Lily mutters, standing in my space and holding her ground. I lean forward, my lips nearing her ear.
“Don’t make me spank you in front of these people to get my way.” Her breath hitches, and I pull back to see her eyes dilate. She’d like it, and my dick jolts to life. This isn’t the time nor were my words appropriate, but it gets her moving. I shuffle her around the vehicle, keeping my hand on the small of her back until she slips into the passenger seat. I’m honestly wondering if anyone would care if I just gunned it out of this parking lot and sped back to Pasadena instead of following the hearse to the cemetery.
When I return to the driver’s seat, the dazed glaze in Lily’s eyes returns, telling me she’d never understand if we left abruptly. Her head rests on her hand. Her elbow perched on the edge of the door. She’s a million miles away, and I’m grateful I demanded to drive. I don’t need her getting in an accident.
We arrive at the burial plot and stand under a gloomy sky as the funeral director reads ano
ther prayer. My hand returns to Lily’s back as if magnetically pulled to the spot, and I don’t remove it even as we stand on the edge of the grave. Chopper remains somber, hands folded before him with his head lowered as we await the final words.
Hank steps forward and shakes the director’s hand, and I follow suit. We walk as a clump, sticking close but not touching as we near our cars once more. Lily stops a few feet from hers and turns back to the gravesite. Like Lot to his wife, I want to tell her not to look back. I want the past to be the past and hopefully be buried with the woman who changed everything, but Lily remains frozen, a pillar of salt rooting her to the earth as she stares. I slow my gait and follow her gaze.
“I just want to make sure she goes in the grave.” It’s an odd statement, and we pause as the cemetery workers begin lowering the casket. The scratch of shovels against dirt echoes in the silence around us, and Lily begins to visibly quake.
“Enough,” I whisper, reaching out for her arm, stroking a hand down her pebbled skin. She remains still as if unaware of my touch. “Let’s go.”
Lily turns to look at me, her eyes blinking with unshed tears. I don’t want her to suffer sorrow for Lauren, yet the pain in those misty blues seems as though so much more is going on in her head.
“She was my sister,” she whispers. “But I did not know her.”
I nod, taking a second to peer back at the workers filling the pit in the ground. For some reason, I swing back to look over at Hank. I’m truly blessed, I realize, as I love my brother and he loves me. He stands with his wife, vigilant over her but supportive of me, as he waits. I’m staring at him when Midge says something to Hank, and then she steps forward.
“Lily, honey,” she speaks softly, like a mother to a child. “Come to the house. We’re going to have dinner as a family tonight.”
This snaps Lily’s attention, first to me, and then over her shoulder at Midge. She smiles weakly, pulling on a brave face with false bravado.