Madison muttered under her breath, “He didn’t suffer enough.”
Madeline turned back quickly, anger apparent in her voice. “What did you just say?”
Madison spoke loud and clear then. Too loud. “I said it must have been tough.” She turned right at the intersection. “I mean really tough for you, watching him die away, a little more each day...one moment closer to...” She reached over and patted the woman’s thigh. “Well, we know where he went, afterwards, don’t we?”
Madeline began to bawl then. She covered her face with her already over-used hankie.
Roxy stared into the rearview mirror until Madison tilted her head high enough so their eyes met. Roxy shook her head. Madison responded with a shrug of her shoulders. A moment later, the car pulled into the parking lot of the neighborhood funeral home.
Roxy took the “backseat” there as well. Madison had taken charge, wrapping her arms around Madeline, steering her inside and letting the staff know why they were there. Mr. Jones, the director, was summoned, almost wordlessly; he led them into a large room.
Madeline continued to cry into her now drenched linen handkerchief, until the director sat them down at a long table. The elderly woman, who seemed so frail a moment before, now sniffed, wiped her eyes, blew her nose, sat up straight and spoke in a direct manner.
“There are going to be a few changes in the arrangements.”
“Oh,” replied Mr. Jones, who was dressed in his usual ready-to-bury-people suit, leaned his elbows on the table. His fingers interlaced and moved positions. Roxy wondered if he was going to extend his pointing fingers, like the steeple game she played as a child. The thought nearly caused her to burst out into laughter.
“Yes. My brother will be cremated.”
This caused a frown. “Cremated?” The frown deepened. “I thought you had said he was adamant about being buried...you spoke of a plot in the cemetery...”
Madeline’s face took on a stern, hard look. “Cremated. Let’s pick out an urn.” She stood up.
Mr. Jones opened his mouth as if to speak, or perhaps argue the point, then clamped it shut and ushered them into another large room in the back that held urns and a variety of caskets. The director and Madeline walked quietly to the shelves that held a wide assortment.
Madison elbowed Roxy lightly in the ribs. “I think they need one of these stores at the mall. You know, buy two, and get half off on the third one. What do you think?”
Roxy stood there, grinning, hoping her mother wouldn’t take this inopportune time to turn around and see her.
Madison walked over to a large cream colored urn, in the shape of a bell jar. Starring at it, she asked, “Do you think he changed his mind about being buried?”
“No. He’d talk about it sometimes when he was drinking.”
Madison gasped. Roxy met her eyes. Madison pointed at the bottom of the shelf where the urn had sat. “Look at the price of this? I could have made one of these in my ceramics class for next-to-nothing.”
“Maybe we should make our own? Save our kids some money.”
Madison set it haphazardly on the bare edge of the shelf. The unstable urn tipped. Roxy gasped and lurched forward. Madison quickly caught the falling object.
Madison held firmly to the urn, sliding it back on the shelf. “Faked you out!”
“Girls, girls, be careful!” Madeline scolded, walking towards them.
“Sorry, it was all my fault,” Madison exclaimed.
Madeline patted Madison on the shoulders. “You always took the blame for Roxy, even as a little girl.”
“No, really, it was me...”
“Roxy is so lucky to have you for a friend.” She turned towards her daughter. “I do hope you appreciate her, Roxy. Friends like Madison are hard to find.”
“Yes, Momma. They sure are.”
* * * *
They traveled silently to Madeline’s house. Turning into the driveway, Roxy breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Cory’s black Jeep. Madeline fumbled with the car door handle before it would open for her. Her little feet hit the gravel driveway and hurried towards the house. Madison eyeballed Roxy.
“Glad it’s him and not me,” she replied.
Madison nodded her head in agreement. Roxy led the way inside the house where she met her younger brother’s pleading eyes. Her mother had surrounded him with her arms so tightly he looked like he may be getting strangled.
“Oh Cory...” Madeline began to sob loudly once again. “It was soooo awful! I’m so glad you’re here to take good care of your mother.”
“Ya, uh, Mom.” Cory gasped. Reaching up, he pulled on her frail looking arms. “You’re choking me, Mom.”
Madeline’s arms fell away from her son’s neck and dropped to her sides. “You’re going to move in and take care of me now, aren’t you, Cory?”
His face took on a stern look. “No, Mom, I’m not. We talked about this a week ago. Remember? I am not moving in. Roxy and I will help you with what we can, but you’ll have to do a lot on your own now.”
Madeline whined, “I just don’t know how I’ll manage.”
“Mom,” Cory said sternly, “we can help you call the Senior Center. Mrs. Jackson down the street has someone come in and do some cleaning and takes her shopping once a week. I’m sure we could find plenty of resources available.”
Madeline burst into tears. “Ned used to do all that.” Her voice took on a nasty tone. “Then he had to up and die on me, leaving me all alone.”
Cory’s eyes grew large and he glanced from Roxy to Madison, perhaps expecting something from them that would make sense to his mother’s change of attitude.
Madison spoke first. “We went to the funeral home...”
Roxy stepped to the cupboard and took a mug out, filled it with water, and set it in the microwave. “Sit down, Momma, and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
Madeline walked into her dining area and plopped down in a worn wooden chair. “All right.”
Cory whispered to Madison, “Is she going to be okay?”
Madison nodded her head in return. “She’s a tough old gal. She’ll be fine.”
Roxy continued preparing the tea for her mother as Cory and Madison whispered quietly behind her. She took the cup to her mother. “Here you go, Momma. Enjoy your tea.”
Madeline took a sip of the hot liquid. A moment passed before she spoke up, loud and clear. “I’m having him cremated, Cory.”
Cory walked into the dining area next to his mother. “Cremated? I thought he was always against that. He had a fit when Mrs. Jackson had her husband cremated.”
“Yes. Well, when he was alive he had some say-so. Now that he’s dead, he don’t.” She took another sip of tea and stared across the room, not seeming to focus on anything. “It’s cheaper that way you know. I don’t have much to live on. Besides, he needs to burn with what he did to this family.”
Silence filled the room and all the implications from her words echoed in Roxy’s head until she thought she may start screaming and never stop.
“I gotta go, Momma.” She turned and walked quickly out to Madison’s car. Her friend was right behind her, had the engine running, and was backing out of the driveway before Roxy had her seat belt fastened. She fumbled with it as hot tears ran down her face.
“It’s okay, Roxy. It’s okay now. You’re with me.”
Roxy doubled up her fists and slammed them down on the dashboard. “She fucking knew! She fucking knew the whole time and didn’t do a thing to help me. She just wanted to pretend it didn’t happen!”
“You suspected that all along.”
Roxy crossed her arms and rocked forward. She felt hollow inside, like a deep nothingness was filling her. “I know...but...I guess I thought...I hoped that she really didn’t know what he had been doing.” She threw her head back and laughed. “She’s angry that he died and left her alone. That’s why she can hate him now and act like she’s mad about what he did to me.”
Madison drove f
or a minute before speaking. “We are going to my place and I’m going to order pizza and we are going to watch a comedy and I am going to work on a reference letter for you to take to your interview tomorrow.”
Roxy shook her head. “I don’t think I can do that now.”
Madison reached over and grabbed Roxy’s arm. “Yes, you are. You’re not letting that crazy bitch of a mother take over any more space in your head. We have three days before the funeral, and I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure you have a good time until then.”
* * * *
The interviewer’s name was Mrs. Lastly. She pursed her lips this way and that, looking over Roxy’s application and paper work. Roxy sat straight in her chair and hoped she was portraying a look of confidence. Madison had whipped up the cover letter and resume the night before. Now, she was mentally flogging herself for not reading over what Madison had typed. It had just come to her a minute ago, that Madison, while pretending to type what she had asked, simply typed what she wanted in order to make Roxy look good on paper. She had been too exhausted the night before to read any of it. Her mother had been so wearing...
“My, you have quite a recommendation from your former employer.”
What former employer?
“It’s rare that I run across someone that has unequivocally recommended a person for...well...cleaning.”
Oh, my God. Madison!
“You must have worked for her for sometime.” Her eyes skimmed across the paper. “And being a nanny to five children!”
Roxy gave a demure smile.
Mrs. Lastly took off her reading glasses and set them on the desk. “You are certainly qualified for the job. You realize it is only two nights a week?”
Roxy nodded.
“Will you be able to start next week?”
“Yes, of course.”
Mrs. Lastly stood. “Be here at seven on Monday night. Leon will train you that night. Tuesday you’ll be on your own. It’s a fairly simple routine and you’ll have a written schedule to follow.”
Roxy stood up and shook her new employer’s hand. “Thank you so much.”
She nearly skipped out to the parking lot; her heart was light and happy. Roxy felt a relief she hadn’t felt in ages. When she started her car, her cell went off. Roxy checked the caller ID and answered with, “What the hell did you write?”
She only heard wild laughter from Madison in return.
* * * *
Later that evening the women crowded around Madison’s dining room table. Jacki brought a barrel of fried chicken; Madison, a veggie plate and dip; Sunday, cheese cake for dessert and a bottle of wine. Roxy heated a can of corn while the ready-to-serve dinner rolls warmed in the oven. Minutes later the women sat down to eat.
Jacki had a wide mixture of feelings and thoughts. She wanted to be a support to Roxy, knowing that the wicked man was finally dead. However, as the others discussed Madeline and her comments at the funeral home, Elvira’s face kept popping into her mind. The thought of her caused her nipples to tingle in excitement, spreading the warmth throughout all her erogenous zones.
“Can you take off work for the funeral?” Madison asked, breaking through her world that for a moment only held Elvira.
“What?” Jacki looked up at four staring faces.
“The funeral. Can you come?” Madison asked, perhaps for the second time.
Jacki nodded. “Yes. Of course. I wouldn’t miss it...” Her words died away as she realized how ridiculous they sounded.
Roxy burst out laughing. “Where were you, girl? Off in Never-Never Land?”
Jacki felt her face turn hot as she shook her head.
Roxy was quiet for a moment before she exclaimed. “You were off in Elvira Land, weren’t you? I haven’t even thought to ask how your dinner went the other night.”
Jacki felt another wave of warmth in her face. Not going unnoticed, Madison egged her on.
“Come on, Jacki. What happened?”
Jacki cleared her throat. “I had a very nice dinner. Elvira is a good...cook.”
“Ohh,” the cat calls began, causing Jacki to laugh along with them.
Sunday leaned on the table. “Is she the woman of your dreams, Jacki?”
“She might be.”
Roxy poured a glass of wine and slid it across the table to Jacki. “Did you get a little lucky then?”
Jacki took a slow sip of wine, knowing the women were practically holding their breath awaiting her response. She set the glass back on the table and smiled. “I got very lucky!”
The ladies almost pounced on her, asking for details.
Chapter 11
Roxy stared into the mirror, gelling her blonde/red spikes. She frowned. Butterflies circled her stomach and a wave of nausea swept though her, leaving her shaky and pale. “Madison, I feel sick.”
Madison opened up the bathroom door. “It’s okay. We will get through the day and you’ll be stronger than ever before.”
“Can’t I just stay here? I don’t have to go to his stupid funeral.”
Madison shook her head in reply; her blonde locks swayed to and fro. “You need to see him buried.”
“It’s just a small box of his ashes.”
“That’s fine. You need to do this. Trust me.”
Roxy played with her spikes, still not satisfied with how it looked. “I can still smell his spice aftershave.”
Madison walked up and gave her a hug. “Just remember he is one dead bastard now.”
Roxy turned towards her. She felt weak. “Don’t let my mom keep me at the house.”
Madison reached up and adjusted a few strands of Roxy’s hair. “I won’t. You’ll come back here with me.” She touched Roxy’s shoulders and squeezed slightly. “Even if I have to kick her skinny ass.”
Madison’s cell rang and she walked out of the bathroom. Roxy could hear her talking, though she wasn’t able to make out the words. Madison’s giggle caused Roxy to grin, even though she had no idea what her friend was laughing about. A few minutes later she walked into the bathroom. Roxy touched up her spikes with a light lacquer spray.
“Who was that?”
Madison reached over and pulled a tiny bit of lint off of Roxy’s knit top.
“Justin.”
“What is he up to these days?”
“He offered to come to the funeral today, but I told him ‘no.’”
“Am I cutting into your time with him?”
“No. Of course not. But he did want to take us to dinner tonight. I told him I’d call later and let him know. We can talk about it...after...”
“I suppose it’s time, huh?”
Madison nodded. “Rock and roll.”
“Jacki?”
“We’ll pick her up on the way.”
* * * *
A short while later the trio walked into the funeral home. A younger suited man, perhaps Mr. Jones Junior, handed out small pamphlets. A white lily was on the front cover. Roxy shook her head and walked on past the hand attempting to give her the paper. Absurd! A frigging white lily. What for... Show how pure he was? The irony of it caused a bubble of laughter to rise in her throat. She swallowed it back down. Roxy’s hands trembled as she made her way down the aisle, in front, next to her mother. Cory sat on the other side, glancing at Roxy. His arm was across the back of the pew, across his mother’s shoulders. His fingers touched Roxy as she sat against the bench. Their eyes met and he offered a small grin. The tiny gesture eased some of her anxiety away. In just that second or two, flashed the knowledge; the understanding of knowing what Roxy was going through; of what she endured. The spell broke when Madeline reached over and squeezed Roxy’s hand. She turned her head and whispered, “You are late!”
Roxy stared at the frail hand in hers and for a brief moment, felt like squeezing it hard. Hard enough to cause her mother to pull away from her, leaving her in peace. Her heart grew heavy with the thought; a wave of shame swept through her being. Mom is not “right” in her mind. Never h
as been. Yet...she pushes me to the edge... How much is on purpose and how much is because she just doesn’t have a clue on her thoughtlessness?
Mr. Jones Senior took long, slow strides down the aisle, past Roxy and up the steps to the pew. He nodded slightly to acknowledge his audience and produced one of those slight smiles, one that conveyed, Hello. We are all sad to be here today, but I’ll do my best to give the departed a great eulogy.
He began to speak about Ned, using the prepared information given to him from Madeline. His quotes reported a short list of affiliations he had belonged to, as if to comment on his good community standing. Mr. Jones moved into the part about Ned being a loving brother. Roxy clasped her hands together, trying to fight down the feeling of hate that was beginning to overwhelm her.
Mr. Jones cleared his throat. He glanced around the audience, stopping, it seemed, at Roxy. “He was a caring man who helped raise his niece and nephew. It seemed his kindness knew no bounds.”
Roxy jumped up out of her seat. She turned to her stricken mother, opening her mouth, but nothing came out. She ran down the aisle, past the faces staring at her. She burst through the door and out into the open fresh air. Roxy tilted her head back and took a deep, deep breath, exhaling it with a shudder. Hearing the noise of the door opening, she turned to see who it was, hoping it wasn’t her mother. Madison came into view, then Jacki.
* * * *
Madeline couldn’t believe that her daughter had just run out of the funeral home. My goodness! What will people think? She looked up at Mr. Jones who seemed undisturbed, and continued on without missing a beat. Cory’s arm tightened around his mother’s shoulders. “What in the world got into your sister?” she whispered. Her son only shook his head in answer. Another arm suddenly went around her shoulder and a face pressed against her cheek.
“Hi, Auntie,” Sunday whispered.
Madeline huffed. “Did you see Roxy just up and take off outta here leaving me and her brother alone?”
Sunday squeezed her again. “Oh, I think it was just too emotional for her.”
Madeline grunted in response. “I suppose so, but I don’t know how it could be harder on her than me and even Cory.”
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