A viewing was a family affair that didn’t require the presence of mortuary staff, other than to refill tissue dispensers, give directions to the restrooms, or on the rare occasion, provide smelling salts to a mourner overcome with grief.
Funeral fainting was more of a dramatic show than a true, grief-induced loss of consciousness. Ed had told her the way you could tell if someone had truly passed out was if their head bounced off the floor when they swooned. In any case, it wasn’t staff’s place to judge the sincerity of the collapse, but to make sure the fallen were helped up off the floor and back to their seat.
The after-hours business line rang and Kay was on phone duty. She walked over to her desk and reached for the receiver, hoping it wasn’t a death call. With Uncle Owen being MIA, Ed would have his hands full transporting two bodies. Nope. Just someone wanting to know what time the Campbell viewing started. “7:00 o’clock,” she replied. “Funeral tomorrow at 10:00 at St. Mary’s,” she added before the caller had a chance to ask the inevitable followup question.
She was heading back to her little typewriter station when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a woman, obviously upset, standing in the middle of the family room. Kay recognized the woman as a member of the Campbell family. The moment the fretting woman saw Kay she beckoned her with a rapid-fire crooking of her finger.
Is the restroom really that hard to find?
Reluctantly, she responded to the urgent summons. As she got closer to the distressed woman Kay noticed the sounds from the chapel had become quite boisterous…almost as if there was a party going on.
“Thank God. I didn’t think anyone was here,” the woman said, frantically grabbing Kay’s arm. “You have to come see my brother. He looks like he’s starting to smell.”
Kay’s blood ran cold and she stood paralyzed, not sure she had correctly heard the woman.
Oh, God! Please don’t tell me he wasn’t thoroughly embalmed.
Kay managed to keep her panic to herself and with all the professional poise she could muster, she led the woman back to the chapel to investigate the potential disaster.
As she rounded the corner from the hallway, Kay almost knocked over a little girl holding the casket veil above her head, twirling around like Salome dancing for the head of John the Baptist. She scanned the room expecting to see other signs of undignified revelry. The intensified noise she had worried about was nothing more than lively conversation between attendees catching up on each other’s lives since the last family funeral.
She cautiously approached the casket, discreetly sniffing the air; the only detectable smell was flowers. A small group of mourners stood at the casket blocking her view of the body. Even though she was anxious to see what was happening to Mr. Campbell, she respectfully held back, not wanting to intrude on their final moments with their loved one/friend.
That’s funny. These guys aren’t gasping in horror or holding their noses.
However, from where she was standing she became aware of several large, ghastly brown smears matting the nap of Mr. Campbell’s blue high pile casket. Unlike the sleek, polished finishes of wood or metal, high pile caskets were finished in what can only be described as sculptured carpeting. The high pile was available in blue or pink and because of its affordable price, it tended to be one of their biggest sellers. Kay had always thought the casket should come with a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the casket lid.
Kay was certain these unsightly stains hadn’t been there this afternoon when Ruth was setting the lighting. She couldn’t imagine how the casket had become so filthy.
Once the mourners returned to their seats, Kay was able to get a better look. She sighed with relief. Mr. Campbell wasn’t decomposing before everyone’s eyes. Rather, the family, unable to keep from touching him, had removed the casket veil and in the process of lavishing him with affection for the last time, had made a mess of his cosmetic restoration. With his “face” coming off in their hands, it was easy to see why his sister thought he was starting to “smell.” What wasn’t easy to see was why, with the tissue dispenser just two feet away, they’d felt the need to clean their hands on the casket. She made a mental note to tell Ed the stains would have to be removed before tomorrow morning’s funeral service.
After reassuring the sister that her brother wasn’t rotting in full public view, Kay retrieved the casket veil from the dancing girl, re-draped it over the casket and stationed herself nearby, guarding against any more destructive pawing of the body. Fortunately, back under the veil, Mr. Campbell resumed his almost-natural appearance. The transformation, courtesy of theatrical tricks of the trade, made Kay think of the famous Shakespearian quote, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances…”
Mr. Campbell had been given his cue and he was about to make his exit.
6
Cursed by Good Energy
“I’m ho-ome,” Kay called out, wiggling and jiggling the key, trying to pull it from the stubborn dead bolt lock.
Silence.
Kay let out a grateful sigh. She was anxious to hear how things had gone with the girls and their dad, but was glad for the opportunity to wind down from her long, crazy day. She poured herself a glass of her favorite Pinot Noir and headed for the welcoming caress of her sofa’s poofy cushions.
She was getting home much later than she would have preferred but Ed had returned just as she was locking up. She stayed to give him a hand moving his retrieved deceased from the gurney to the embalming table, debriefing him on the unusual events of the evening. He smiled and shook his head, saying as far as viewings go, Mr. Campbell’s was pretty much par for the course - he had seen much worse. Then, before he’d sent her on her way, they cleaned Mr. Campbell’s face off the casket. When they were finished, the blue high pile looked like new.
Unfortunately, Kay’s welcomed lull didn’t last long. She had just put her feet up on the coffee table when she heard the rising volume of the girls’ voices as they neared the front door. They didn’t bother to use their key, but instead, one of them laid on the doorbell with a heavy finger.
Ding, dong, ding, dong, ding, dong, ding, dong - followed by insistent knocking. Kay jumped, nearly knocking over her glass of wine.
“Ok, ok, I’m coming,” she hollered, hurrying to put a stop to the racket.
She opened the door and Mariah came in with a little skip and exuberant, “Hi, Mom.”
Cory blew right past her mother, looking glum as usual.
“There’re my gorgeous girls,” Kay said. She wanted to find out about the events of their evening but she knew it was better to keep her curiosity in check. Both Mariah and Cory hated being interrogated about their time spent with their dad - something Kay, regrettably, wasn’t able to resist when the separation was new and she was at the peak of her craziness. It took her a while but she eventually learned if she stayed quiet long enough, the girls would volunteer all the information she needed to know.
She closed the front door and headed back to the couch and her waiting glass of wine. “Did you guys eat?” Kay asked, hoping her tiring day was over and she wouldn’t have to feed anybody.
“Dad took us out for a burger,” Mariah said, plopping on the sofa next to Kay.
“He took YOU out, you mean,” Cory said with disgust. “I was stuck with Dr. Fulmer. All I got was a cold hamburger and fries. He didn’t even buy me anything to drink.”
“It wasn’t that fun,” Mariah said. “He spent the whole time on the phone.” Kay thought it was sweet that Mariah was trying to make her sister feel better.
“I guess Sandy just wanted to know everything was going ok,” Kay said, trying to make both girls feel better.
“I don’t think he was talking to Sandy, Mommy. He was laughing a lot.” Even at nine years old, Mariah was already an astute observer.
Kay’s ears pricked up, but her exhaustion prevented her from indulging in speculation about who might have been amusing her
humorless ex husband.
“How was therapy?” Kay asked, turning her attention to her sulking daughter.
Cory let out a sigh. “It was ok. Except Dr. Fulmer made me mad. He thinks I should try going to dad’s this weekend.”
“Hmmm. That’s interesting,” Kay said in her own noncommittal, therapeutic tone.
“I asked him why he was trying to lay a guilt trip on me. I mean, I get enough of that crap from Dad.”
Kay tried to explain to a stubborn Cory the therapist wasn’t trying to make her feel guilty, but was encouraging her to confront her problems head on. It went right over the immature girl’s head. Like most kids her age, Cory was of the opinion all adults, even those with a license to practice psychology, were stupid and didn’t have a clue about what was really going on.
“And of course, Dad started in on me as soon as I got in the truck. He didn’t even ask me nicely if I would come this weekend. All he did was bitch about how bad Sandy and Little Dave were going to feel if I didn’t show up. So much for the adult conversation you wanted me to have with him. ”
“I think you’re wrong, Cory. He really wants to spend some time with you,” Kay said.
“So how come he doesn’t say he’d feel bad? Why does he put it all on Sandy when we all know she doesn’t want us around?”
Kay didn’t know how to respond. Dave had always had difficulty with taking responsibility for anything, especially his feelings. But she didn’t think it was appropriate to get into that with Cory. The little girl would soon figure it out for herself…if she hadn’t already.
Cory helped Kay out of her obvious internal struggle by changing the subject. “Did you get the message I left for you by the phone?”
“I didn’t bother to check. I just wanted to sit and not have to think. Who called?” Kay said.
“Some Virginia Something-or-Other. She wants you to call her.”
Cory retrieved the piece of paper and handed it to Kay.
Virginia Voorhees. 555-6473
“Did she say what she wanted?” Kay asked, not recognizing the name.
“Nope. Just wants you to call her back.”
Kay shrugged, then frisbeed the message on to the coffee table. “I’ll call back tomorrow. Probably just wants to sell me something,” she muttered.
Cory joined her mother and sister on the sofa. Both girls leaned into Kay in a vertical cuddle that felt especially delicious to the exhausted woman. The three of them sat there without saying a word, content to end a hard day in the sweet familiarity of each other’s company.
* * *
“Good morning. Executive Connections. Virginia Voorhees speaking.”
It all came rushing back to Kay. This was the woman who had interviewed her for the singles group.
“Good morning, Virginia. This is Kay Manning. You spoke with my daughter yesterday and left a message asking me to call you.”
“Yes, Kay. How good to talk to you again. I know it’s been a couple of months since your interview but since we haven’t seen you, I was checking to see if maybe you hadn’t run off and gotten married.”
“Oh my goodness, no!” Kay said, a tad too emphatically.
“Well, that’s ok,” the woman responded, a little too condescendingly. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know we’ve had a big boost in membership and there are some very interesting people I think you would enjoy getting to know.”
Kay looked behind her - right then left - making sure the girls didn’t know she was having this conversation.There was still something unnatural about participating in this proposition that made Kay feel like a loser. But she couldn’t admit that to this woman who seemed sincere in her efforts to play matchmaker to the executive lover-lorn.
“You know, Virginia, I’ve had every intention of coming to a meeting but it seems like something always comes up.”
Ignoring Kay’s lame excuse, Virginia said, “No problem. I completely understand. We’re all so busy these days. But just in case you’re free on Saturday, you may want to check out our meeting. It’s at 7:00 at my house. We’re planning a houseboat weekend at Lake Beauchamp while the weather is still warm.”
A houseboat weekend?
Seems Kay had missed out on quite a bit if these people were at the point of planning weekend get-aways.
“Wow. That sounds like fun,” Kay said. “The group must be pretty friendly to share a houseboat. I mean, I’m assuming the accommodations are coed.”
Virginia laughed. “I’m sure some of the guys wouldn’t object to a set up like that, but no. The plan is to rent two houseboats, one for the men and the other for the women. A couple of our members have even offered to pull their speed boats so we can water ski.”
Her misgivings allayed, Kay was now intrigued. A weekend at the lake, relaxing, water skiing and partying with adults sounded tremendously appealing. “I’d love to hear more.”
“I hoped you’d be interested. You have just the kind of energy this group needs.
After all these months, Kay was doubtful the woman remembered anything about her, let alone her energy. In any case, the suck-up wasn’t necessary. She was definitely interested. It had been a long time since Kay had had anything like this to look forward to. Unnatural or not, she couldn’t pass it up. She was going to attend that meeting whether Cory chose to go to Dave’s or not. If she had to, she could leave her twelve-year old home alone for a couple of hours.
Before she hung up Kay took down the directions to Virginia’s house and gave her assurances she’d be there.
“Are you really going on a houseboat?”
Kay jumped, not aware Cory had come into the room.
“Don’t sneak up on people, Cory. You startled me.”
“Sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to bother you while you were on the phone. What’s the deal with the houseboat?”
“Excuse me, young lady, but that was a private conversation. You know it’s rude to eavesdrop.”
“Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that you sounded so excited.”
Kay wasn’t aware she’d telegraphed her enthusiasm and she could feel her cheeks heat up. “Well, it’s not a for-sure thing. I don’t know if I’m going.” Then she underhandedly added, “I’ll find out more about it on Saturday when you and Mariah are at your Dad’s.”
Cory gave Kay a stone-faced look, cracked half a smile and said, “Nice try, Mom.”
Kay chuckled. “It was worth a shot. Anyway, I got the feeling last night you might have changed your mind about going,” Kay lied, giving her manipulation one more try.
Much to Kay’s surprise, Cory confirmed her fictitious suspicion. “The truth is, I was gonna go, but I got an email from Violet this morning. Her family is going camping this weekend and she wants me to come. Can I, Mom?”
Kay laughed again - this time at the uncanny timing of her daughter’s last-minute reprieve. “Saved by the bell, huh?”
Now it was Cory’s turn to be embarrassed. “No, really Mom,” she protested. “I thought about what you said about Dr. Fulmer wanting me to face my problems. I mean, I don’t really think it’ll change anything, but I guess I owe it to myself to try. I’m only sorry it’ll have to wait until the next visit. That’s if you say I can go with Violet.”
Kay was pretty sure her daughter’s sudden show of thoughtful maturity was just that - a show. Teenagers were so obvious when they were trying to get their parents to give them something they wanted. But Kay couldn’t fault the girl - especially in light of her own attempt at shifty maneuvering.
“Well, before I say yes, I’ll want to call Bonnie for the details. You’re probably going to need some camping equipment.”
Cory bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet and a wide grin exploded across her face. “Thank you, thank you, than…”
Kay put her hand up, interrupting her daughter’s buoyant expression of gratitude. “But there’s one condition. You’re going to have to call your Dad and let him know you won’t be coming th
is time.”
That stopped Cory in her tracks. “Really? You’re going to make me call him?”
Kay dropped her chin and stared disapprovingly at Cory from under her brow.
“All right, all right,” the girl reluctantly acquiesced. “I hate when you give me that look. I’ll call him. But I know he’s going to give me a bunch of shit.”
“Good. But don’t call until I have everything confirmed with Violet’s mother.”
Cory nodded dejectedly and headed for the stairs.
“Look at it this way, Honey,” Kay said, stopping Cory with a gentle touch of the shoulder. “If you’re sincere about giving your dad a chance, this call is a good way to start.”
Cory looked at her mother, rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever.” She disappeared up the stairs in her usual churlish fashion, leaving Kay to quietly return to the excitement of contemplating the possibilities of her upcoming lake-side social prospect.
“Mom?” came the timid call from the top of the landing.
Here it comes.
Kay braced herself for a last ditch plea. But to Kay’s pleasant surprise, Cory said, “I really do hope you get to go on that houseboat. You never get to do anything fun.”
Kay was so taken aback and touched by Cory’s, seemingly, heartfelt sentiment she felt moved to offer to make the call to Dave after all.
Really…what would it hurt?
But just as she opened her mouth to tell Cory she had reconsidered, the realization she was being played again tossed her off her little pink cloud. Kay had to admit she was impressed.
Does my kid know me, or what?
“Thank you, Stinker. That’s sweet,” Kay called back up the stairs. “Now go call Mariah. You guys have about ten minutes before the bus comes.”
The derisive little snort she heard in response let her know her suspicions were right on the money.
Do I know my kid, or what?
Same Old Truths (The Reluctant Avenger) Page 5