Madam Mom

by Lynda Rees

  Tisha bent to kiss her cheek. “I haven’t a clue where to begin.” She dug into the omelet and bacon strip Ms. Flanagan placed in front of her along with buttery biscuits and cottage fries.

  “Not to worry, dear. Daniel made appointments for us with the necessary people. He’s got it under control and arranged audiences for the rest of this week. He faxed a schedule earlier waiting for us in the foyer. We meet with the funeral director first at ten.”

  “It’s awesome, Gran. Thank you. I’m glad someone’s taken charge ensuring we manage everything properly.” Relief swept through her.

  They ate with quiet conversation, mostly about the gallery. Ten a.m. found them sitting in the office of the Leeman’s stately funeral home. Mr. Leeman served coffee. Then they perused documents he prepared. “The mortuary secured Roberta’s remains last evening and Roberta prearranged everything except for clothing for the burial.” His voice soothed in a practiced tone meant to calm grieving customers. The strong scent of coffee brewing didn’t overpower putrid hint of embalming fluids souring her stomach.

  “I’ll choose an appropriate dress.” Tisha’s mind wandered to her mother’s closet.

  “Fine. I’ll send a courier for it later today. We can arrange the funeral the day after tomorrow if it suits you. Roberta selected flowers, wrote her obituary, and even selected the casket. Please review the obituary, to ensure nothing needs updating.” He motioned to the file he’d handed Tisha.

  “It looks fine. Thank you.” It felt surreal. The offices in this stately mansion designed to put frantic mourners at ease. But Tisha gulped air as her breakfast did a fast roll in her stomach. Thank goodness she wasn’t required to stroll through a casket showroom to pick one out. Her legs wouldn’t make the trip.

  “Roberta will rest beside your father. There’s a gravesite purchased for Lola when the time comes.” He nodded and Gran smiled. How did she manage to appear serene when discussing her demise? “Roberta bought a four-person plot aside theirs for you, Tisha and the family she hoped you’ll have, if you want it.”

  Mom considered everything as usual. “Thank you.” Surely she wasn’t required to decide now. She and Mom had never discussed it. Obviously she’d considered marriage and family a given—surprising considering the McClain Women’s Curse. A running sordid joke—they couldn’t catch a break hanging onto a man. Roberta and Gran survived without men for the most part. Tisha assumed them happy—the McClain women against the world. If Mom expected Tisha to fall in love and have a family, had she missed having a man in her own life after Dad? She never brought men home. She eyed Gran. What about Roberta’s father—a lover or from a previous marriage? Tisha made a mental note to ask Gran.

  Tisha had never considered Mom or Gran desiring a lover or husband. Things changed. An adult, time was running out. She needed to learn about her family.

  Tisha and Gran reviewed Roberta’s stated wishes then signed the documents. They selected a time for the service and a blanket of yellow roses for the casket—Mom’s favorite. The idea of them being her last roses brought tears to Tisha’s eyes.

  The women drove to the gravesite but didn’t get out. Mud made it difficult for Gran. They remained in the car and talked. The ground had been prepared for digging, and equipment awaited the operator’s arrival. A funeral tent erected would provide shelter in case the weather didn’t cooperate. The service would take place immediately following the funeral at Leeman’s.

  “Mr. Leeman engaged engravers to carve Mom’s statistics on the headstone erected when Dad died. Everything is ready. Mom will finally sleep beside Daddy again.” She patted at a teardrop on her cheek.

  Lola grasped her hand and squeezed.

  “I especially like the tiny angel statue atop the stone. I pray for an angel to lead Roberta and one to watch over you, Tisha.” They cried over amusing stories and laughing then wiping their tears. Finally, holding hands they drove out of the graveyard, preoccupied with memories.

  “Let’s have lunch at Scotties. It’s still your favorite café in Ft. Thomas. Right?” She smiled. The older woman nodded.

  “It is. I especially love summer months eating at their sidewalk tables.”

  Today, in their sober state with cool weather, they made their way inside. “Let’s sit at this window table. There’s room for my walker, out of the way of other patrons.” Gran eased herself into a chair with Tisha standing guard behind before joining her. The waitress arrived with a smile and greeting, depositing ice water and a pitcher on their table.

  “I’ll have the house salad with blue cheese. It’s my favorite and a specialty of the house,” Gran eyed Tisha.

  “Perfect. I’ll have the same. Bring an order of deep-fried eggplant with cocktail sauce and shrimp cocktail. Bring Gran an Old Fashioned.” She winked at the old gal. “I’m driving. I’ll have unsweetened iced tea.” The waitress sped away to fill their requests.

  “Now, Sweetie, what about the lovely young man you’re seeing? Simon, wasn’t it? Will he come for the services? I hate seeing you go through this alone.”

  “No, Gran. Don’t worry about me. I’m not alone. I have you and the uncles. They’d walk through fire for me. Kelle’s coming. I have friends to lean on.” She felt alone, no matter who came.

  “Very nice, I love how you managed saying that and avoided answering my question.” Gran’s smirk turned to a smile.

  She might as well get it out in the open. Gran wouldn’t rest until she knew the story. “I broke up with Simon awhile back.”

  “Why? You appeared well-suited. At least it looked that way. What happened? Spill it.” Gran rubbed her hands together then laid them on the table. “I want juicy details.”

  “I figured you would. I believed us well-suited, Gran. Simon was well-suited to his wife.” Tisha glanced away, her brow furrowed, and a frown marked her face. Better off without Simon, she hated being lied to.

  “The fool was married? I hope you smashed him like a bug and kicked him to the curb.” Gran’s face took on an angry, shocked look; and she jiggled in her seat.

  “I don’t know. I found him and his loving wife snuggled into a corner booth in a restaurant. I stopped for a carry-out order. The little woman surprised Simon with a romantic visit to town.”

  “She surprised you both.”

  “I understood he was single. He lived alone. He stayed in his apartment in the city during the week to work. His wife hated the city. She rarely came to town. A couple days a week, he went home to their house in the Hamptons. Having skipped a couple visits, she got antsy and I guess horny so decided to surprise him. Stupidly he took her to our favorite Italian bistro.” Tisha’s voice aired thick as she avoided tears. She’d cried enough for the bastard. “Honestly Gran, I saw no sign of a wife in his apartment—none—no clue I ever picked up on. I had no idea.”

  “The pig.” She spat the words. “I hope you gave him a piece of your mind. Did you tell the wife? Or did she already know?”

  “My guess—she knew but avoided the subject pretending everything fine between them. Not facing reality as he didn’t flaunt it and embarrass her.”

  “Strangely, some women settle for losers.” Tisha didn’t know much about her past, but Gran never ceased to surprise her with what popped out of her audacious mouth—definitely a woman of the world.

  “Honestly, I don’t think she came to the city often. I spent time at his apartment. No sign of a female anywhere. It explains a couple things, however. I forgot a pair of underwear in his bathroom, and he freaked finding them. It should’ve been a warning sign, but I never dreamed him committed elsewhere. It pisses me off. I wasted time on him.”

  “I’d like to commit him to an early grave for treating you badly.” Gran blustered waving her tiny fists furiously.

  “Thanks, Gran, but it is over. I worry. I missed the signals. I may’ve been blind. He lived in a bachelor pad through-and-through. I’m a pitiful judge of character when it comes to men, but I won’t be deceived again.” Tisha poked at
the tasteless salad.

  “Nonsense. Remember the lovely hunk you played push-the-bush with in Paris? Jacques Louis Giancola if I recall. You had fun, but didn’t take him seriously and knew he wasn’t a keeper. There’s nothing wrong with your judgment, Tisha. We all have setbacks with men. It’s part of the thrill.”

  The evil glint in her eyes made Tisha want to pry into her personal love life, but she didn’t have the energy. “Jacques Louis was something. Wasn’t he?”

  “Ummm, yummy.” Gran rubbed her hands together. “Simon—even the name rings pretentious—good for a cat. So … you found Simon with his wife. What did you do?” She stressed two words.

  “In shock her rings sparkled in the candlelight from their table, I strutted swinging my hips, introduced myself offering my hand. She shook it.” Tisha snickered. “I said, “Are you Simon’s new girl? Congratulations. He’s good in the sack, but don’t leave panties in his apartment. He gets pissed. Nice meeting you. Good luck. Enjoy him.” Then I sauntered outside before breaking into tears.” She grinned proudly.

  Bursting into laughter, Gran held her hand up for a high-five. Tisha slapped it. It had always been easy talking with Gran. McClain women could discuss anything.

  She’d told Kelle and other friends, but it wasn’t the same as getting it in the open with Gran, getting understanding and support from family. Her body literally relaxed releasing the last angst she had about Simon. Finally over him, closure came as a relief.

  “My girl deserves better than a skunk. We taught you to depend on yourself. Take care of your and people you love. If you want a man around keep one, but not because you need him. Never allow a man put you down.”

  “I know, Gran. It sucks. I wasted a year of my life on a worm.”

  “Get back on the horse. Don’t waste youth pining over an unworthy jerk. Have fun now while you can enjoy it. Time is fleeting. Don’t waste it. Let’s find you a new beau. Forget the turd and live.” Gran patted her hand.

  “It’s what Kelle told me. I’m not ready. I’ve enough on my mind. A man’s the last thing I need.” She eyed the attractive, aging woman across from her. “Now you mention it, why not take your own advice? Long as I remember, you’ve been alone. Mom never brought guys home after Daddy died, either. Why?”

  “We had reasons. I’ll share my past soon enough. This isn’t the time or place, but don’t discount your old Gran yet. I’ve still got game, girl.” Her evil wink sent Tisha into spasms of laughter. It felt good talking about a subject besides their grief. She’d make time to understand Gran, her only family left. She wanted the best for her.

  “I’m not dead yet, girly. I’ve got a slick hunk in my sights. The fun gent’s gorgeous and active, loves to dance and makes me laugh. He even wets my panties. I’m considering an illicit affair. You won’t mind will you, Tisha?” The scandalous words rolled off her tongue as easily as if asking Tisha to choose fish or beef for dinner.

  Hearing the comment, Tisha barely avoided spitting a mouthful of sweet tea. “Gran, you’re too much. If you find love, lust or whatever, go for it.” They chuckled. Tears formed in Tisha’s eyes. Gran’s brilliant smile filled with love.

  She discussed sex with some dude in the restaurant, but not her past. Curious.

  Tisha had been a backward child and teen. Growing up, folks treated her oddly, like an outcast, and it burned her hide recalling. On her own, things changed starting with a fling in Paris. She brushed it aside to enjoy this time together chatting the afternoon away. Incredibly lucky having the delightful force of nature in her life, Tisha wouldn’t ignore her. Downright forward standing for no nonsense, Gran didn’t waste breath on things she didn’t enjoy or want and shot straight to the heart of a matter.

  Exiting the restaurant Tisha focused on holding the door wide; Lola maneuvered her walker through without problems. A bulking hand slipped inside the door and too the pressure from her backside. “I’ve got it, Ma’am,” a familiar, haunting voice came from the hulking Carlo Tallarigo as recognition filled his eyes. “Ms. McClain, Lola, I’m surprised seeing you out .”

  Gran flashed him a sideways grin with her brow cocked. She spun away continuing her exit. “Why? We’re still kicking.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Tallarigo.” Tisha stepped out following Gran making a hasty exit in tiny, baby-steps, sniffing a heavy garlic and onion scent.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, ladies.” Carlo’s hulk stepped inside tilting his hat.

  “Again, thank you.” Tisha scampered toward their vehicle trying to beat Gran there to open the door for her. Carlo’s appearance sure quickened Gran’s step.

  “The damned, squirrelly baboon—” Lola muttered unintelligible words as she climbed into the front passenger seat. Tisha snatched and folded her walker stowing it behind, then rounded to the driver’s side.

  “I don’t like the man.” She started the engine with a roar.

  Lola’s smiled nodding. “See, I told you. There’s nothing wrong with your intuition.” She faced forward signaling the conversation over.

  Returning home, Gran napped while Tisha checked email, voice mail, and returning business calls requiring attention. Time sped by.

  Kelle confirmed the gallery was fine. “How are you holding up? I’ve been worried. Wish I could help.” She found Kelle’s soft banter comforting.

  “Good as can be. It’s tough. I’m lost without her. You’re doing your best for me, minding the store and here for the funeral. I’ve got to figure out. Gran can’t live alone. I’ve got to figure out what to do about her. Today, having time with her felt wonderful.”

  “I’ll close the gallery for the services. I hung a wreath on the door, and will add a sign saying we’ll reopen the following day.” Kelle devoted to her and their business.

  Kelle’s thoughtfulness touched Tisha. “Stay the night and close the gallery two days. I don’t know how to repay you.”

  “Shit, girl.” Kelle’s mock-southern accent came to life. “You’re my best friend. I’m here for you. I’ll do whatever you say. Bless your heart.” She could make Tisha laugh—no matter what.

  “Well, sweetheart, get your sassy ass down here. I can’t wait to see you.” Tisha employed her best Jersey accent—closest she could manage to match Kelle’s brogue. “Stay at the house with me and Gran. I want you with us. As for being here for me, forget the bull. You’re at the gallery where I need you most. It’s a blessing having it safe in your hands. Thanks.”

  “Well, darling,” Kelle drawled, “any ‘ole time. I’ll see you bright and early day after tomorrow at your house. I can ride to the services with you.”

  “Thanks.” Tisha made a mental reminder to find a way to show gratitude for Kelle’s continual help. One of a kind, Kelle’s life amused Tisha. “How’s your social life faring?”

  “Remember the finance manager for the Degal buyer last month?”

  “Yeah, why?” It felt good thinking of someone else’s life.

  “We’ve had dinner and drinks a couple times. I spent last night at his penthouse. He lives a block away.”

  “It’s convenient. So third date, sleep over, I give him maybe two more dates.” Tisha joked, laughing.

  Kelle gave a low chuckle. “Am I so predictable?”

  “Let’s say you love-‘em-and-leave-‘em. It’s your style.” No accusation in her words, only fact.

  “This guy might be different. We’ll see. I’m not tired of him yet. Hear from the airport dude?”

  “Hell no, and I won’t. It was merely sex. We’ll never see each other again, a onetime, sweet treat—nothing more. A girl can’t live at the bakery.” Her laughter distracted from the yearning Sam’s image flashing in her mind caused.

  She sighed. Sam’s hazy eyes stared at her half naked body blatantly posed in her stilettos. A gorgeous specimen, his long, firm shaft pointed upward greeting her. Her mouth watered. His touch, the flavor of him, and wanting him inside her made her squirm as moisture pooled between her thighs.

  “Gla
d you at least got the pastry’s name. Honey, I heard the sigh. You’re fooling no one.” Kelle laughed. She knew Tisha better than anyone. “You’re conservative and guarded. It’s difficult picturing the scene as lusty as it sounds. I have to say, I’m proud of you for taking what you needed. I read its natural craving sex while grieving.” Kelle continued laughing. “So Sam’s gorgeous, huh?”

  “Yes, he’s hot in a shaggy, blonde way—hot enough to make my day.” Tisha wiggled in her seat at the twinge.

  “Give him kudos. He manned up and performed. Did you keep his card? You should call the guy. He might be a keeper.”

  “Seriously? I did everything but molest him. I doubt my shaggy sweet thing would consider me girlfriend material after the stunt.”

  “Come on, Tisha. He had a good time. Some men like wild women. He’s a sucker for a gal in tears. It’s kind of sweet and sensitive.” Encouragement in Kelle’s tone made it doable, but Tisha didn’t have the nerve.

  “He was sweet, but merely a distraction.”

  “A little steamy sex never hurt anyone. Sam’s pining away for letting you go without a way to contact you.”

  “Doubt it. The fling is over. See you later, Kelle.” With his memory taking her mind off her troubles, Tisha slid into comfort of her sheets for a nap.

  At dinner Lola studied her face. “You’re preoccupied.”

  “Oh, work—nothing special.” Change the subject. “Did you choose a dress for the funeral, Gran?”

  “Don’t bait-and-switch me, young lady. What’s bothering you?” Lola put her fork down and placed her hands in her lap. “It’s a man. I knew it.” Pleasure perked up her eyes.

  “Gran, you’re something else.” She shook her head laughing.

  “Come on. I know you have a juicy story to share. Go on.” Gran flashed a wicked grin.

  The old gal would drag it out of her sooner or later—might as well fess up. “I met a guy on the airplane. A basket case, I acted rude to him in security. He seemed nice and concerned for me. I felt badly, but figured I’d never see him again. He ended up sitting across from me on the plane. We struck up a conversation, and he accepted my apology. He’s from Cincinnati, living in New York. I borrowed his hanky and got hives from it. The attendant gave me medicine, and I slept the rest of the way. My rash healed by the time we landed.”