A Beautiful Mess

by Brenda S Anderson

  Erin lifted her so they could both study the piece better. She searched for the hidden item Jon said had become Corey’s trademark—it shouldn’t be that hard to find!—but Corey was good.

  There it was. A button. She touched the third button down on Clara’s dress. Was it a memento of some kind? Had it fallen off one of her pieces of clothing?

  How could a man who’d been so awful to her and Mik paint such beauty?

  “Brilliant work, don’t you agree?”

  Erin turned toward an older couple who dressed impeccably. No doubt, they didn’t purchase their wardrobe from the local big box like she did. “Yes. It is.”

  “You must be Erin.” The woman extended her hand. “Belinda Caldwell. And this is my husband, Charles.”

  “Nice to meet you.” The man thrust out his hand.

  Erin accepted his offer. Corey’s wife’s parents? “I thought . . . ” That they weren’t coming. She clamped her mouth shut before something insulting snuck out.

  A silent exchange that Erin couldn’t decipher passed between the couple before Belinda responded. “You are correct. Once we got over the shock that Lilith was gone, we came to our senses.” The woman broke eye contact and her gaze went to the portrait of Clara. “An amazing likeness, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes. Amazing.”

  “Gramama.” Clara reached out her arms for the woman.

  Recalling what Jon had said about Corey and that woman not wanting these two to have custody, Erin reluctantly handed over the child then looked around for Jon. He remained at the door, greeting mourners. A very pretty mourner at that. She and Jon seemed quite familiar with each other. A possible match? Perhaps Jon’s mystery woman.

  “My daddy, mommy go be with Jesus.” Clara’s comment jerked back Erin’s attention.

  Mrs. Caldwell’s jaw trembled as she clung tightly to her granddaughter, and the silent Mr. Caldwell looked away. Hiding tears maybe?

  “Yes, dear, your mommy and daddy are with Jesus.” Belinda drew her granddaughter closer.

  “And Daddy’s painting sunsets with Jesus!”

  “Amazing sunsets.” The woman offered a sad smile to Erin. “You’ve already done a masterful job with Clara.”

  “I’m doing what I can.”

  “And under very difficult circumstances, I’m sure. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her gaze flitted to Jon again, hoping he’d get the signal and come help her out. That pretty woman remained at his side. Interesting.

  Not the time for that. She needed to know if this couple was safe. They were being very pleasant. But were they too nice? Not in Erin’s perception, but Jon might interpret something else.

  “Would you mind if Clara stayed with us through the service?” Mrs. Caldwell kissed her granddaughter’s forehead.

  “I, uh . . . ” What would Jon recommend?

  “Dear.” Belinda laid a hand on Erin’s shoulder, and Erin’s muscles tensed. “Charles and I wish to assure you that our threats of fighting the will were made in haste and out of grief for our daughter. If Lilith and Corey felt you were the best caregiver for our granddaughter, who are we to argue? We’re certainly not young anymore and couldn’t keep up with her. But we would appreciate the opportunity to spend time with her while we’re in town.”

  Erin shrugged, not certain if her next words would fit the legality of the situation. “I’m sure it can be arranged.” Jon would have to dictate the circumstances.

  “Thank you, dear, and we are very sorry for your loss.”

  Erin just nodded as the two walked away with Clara, though she wanted to heave a relieved sigh. Caring for this child, much less trying to love her, took far more energy than Erin had to extend.

  “Pearl?”

  Erin whirled toward the familiar voice, and in spite of being at a funeral, she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. “Zax!” She hadn’t seen Corey’s brother, Zachary, in over a year. No surprise, though, the man looked as roguish as ever with that thick mop of hair as unruly as he was, and the mischievous dark eyes to match. Erin had always thought the man should be in front of a camera, not standing behind one as a photojournalist.

  “I’m so sorry, Zax.” She let him draw her into his arms for a hug she embraced. Zax was one of the few who could get away with it.

  “Me too.” He hugged her tighter.

  She absorbed the tears he was now shedding. The two brothers may have fought a lot, but they were also fiercely loyal to each other.

  He finally stepped back and wiped his hand over his nose. “The brat just had to go and grab more attention, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, you know Corey. Always wanted the spotlight.” Which was not at all who Corey had been. That was more Zachary’s personality, but he’d constantly ribbed Corey about it.

  “Come with me.” Zax took Erin by the elbow and led her to a classroom. He pulled out a child-sized chair for her, and he sat opposite, his piercing eyes boring into hers. “I want the truth. How are you doing?”

  She shrugged. He didn’t need to be dragged into her drama.

  “Truth, Pearl.”

  She slumped and studied the low-napped carpeting. Why could she never say “no” to him? Tell him it wasn’t any of his business? “I’m angry,” she muttered the words. “He keeps screwing up my life.”

  “Clara?”

  “You know?”

  “Jon told me.”

  “Why would Corey do that to me?” Her gaze riveted on Zax. “To her?”

  “I can’t tell you exactly what my brother was thinking, but I’m pretty sure he wanted the best for Clara, and I agree that would be you.”

  “Did you, Corey, and Jon team up and say, ‘let’s mess with Erin’?”

  “I’m sure it looks that way.”

  “Smells like it, too.”

  “I suppose it does.” He ran a hand over his Tony Stark-like facial hair. “Know that I’m just a phone call away.”

  “That, and an ocean.”

  “Technology brings us a lot closer.”

  “Well, maybe I want the real thing, not an image on the screen.”

  With a sigh, he kneaded the back of his neck. “Exactly what the folks said.” He looked out the classroom door, then at Erin. “One more thing. Mom asked me to put together a video for the service. She called it a photo eulogy.”

  “Lovely.” Her sarcasm snuck out again. A video that would likely ignore the years she and Corey had together and spotlight his fabulous new marriage and family. And probably make Mik feel worse than she already did.

  Zax touched her hand, prompting her to look him in the eye. “I’m narrating as it plays. It’s honest, Erin, just like the stories I tell overseas, I’m telling Corey’s life story. The 3 Sixlets. Your marriage. Mik. Him messing up. Him finally growing up. Faith became a big part of his life. I want people to see how it changed him, and they can’t see that unless they see the bad parts as well as the good. I told Mom I wouldn’t do one of those glossed-over pieces that shows how perfect Corey was, and she agreed. It will not be your typical tribute.”

  And Zax was just the person to get away with it. “Thank you.”

  “I suppose I should join the family.” He stood up and offered his hand. “Will you sit with us?”

  She shook her head. Being here was awkward enough without mourners seeing her as part of the Belden family. “I plan to stay in the back. Mik’s fine with being with you guys. The Caldwells have—”

  “Mo-om—Uncle Zax!” Mik’s voice went from a whine to a squeal behind her.

  “Hey, Sixlet. I was wondering where you were.”

  She practically bowled him over with a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Nowhere near as much as I’ve missed you, Six.”

  “Are you gonna stick around now?”

  “I’ll be here for a week, but then I’ve got to go back.”

  Mik’s whole body slouched as if a sudden weight had dropped on her, and she shook away from his hug
.

  “Hey. I’ll be back more often. I promise. Someone’s gotta keep the boys away from you.” He bopped her nose. “You’re getting as pretty as your mom.”

  Mik looked back at Erin, and her nose wrinkled.

  Zax winked at Erin. “Believe me, Six, guys are going to be fighting over you.”

  “Please don’t encourage her, Zax.” Mik was unhappy enough about not being able to date until she was sixteen and had a job.

  “You’re right.” Zax raised his hands in surrender. “Off to join the folks. You coming with, Six?”

  “I can sit by you?”

  “Gotta have my best girl beside me.”

  Her daughter beamed as the two headed toward the door, Zachary’s arm around Mik’s shoulder. The man still hadn’t lost his charm.

  “Oh, Mom?” Mik stopped and looked back, her eyes narrowed. “Do you realize who has Clara?”

  Apparently, Mik didn’t care for that woman’s parents either. Erin didn’t care. “Yes. Clara’s grandparents. And they’re just holding her during the service.”

  “Dad didn’t like them.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Zax said.

  “Well, he didn’t like me much either, so I have something in common with them.”

  Mik let out a huge sigh then kicked at the carpet. “Guess he didn’t like me much either.” Her chin quivered, which meant tears were on the way again.

  “Oh, honey.” Erin mentally slapped herself for stepping into that one, as she drew Mik tight to her body and held the now-sniffling child.

  Zax squinted at Erin. Maybe asking what Mik’s drama was about?

  She mouthed, “I’ll explain later.”

  He rolled his eyes and formed his hands into a circle, like he wanted to strangle something. That was body language she recognized as Zax had used that very same motion in regard to his younger brother many times as they were growing up.

  At least Erin wasn’t alone in that thought.

  Tonight, after the funeral, Erin planned to dig into the journal and find something that would reassure her daughter that Corey did love her. Even if she had to forge a few new words.

  __________

  Corey

  May 9, 2014

  Counseling was Erin’s idea. It usually worked for her, so I promised I’d give it a try.

  Writing in this stupid journal, though, was my counselor’s idea, as if putting my thoughts on paper will help me feel less anxiety. Of course, Erin jumped at the idea and gave me this journal. A boring, brown leather book with blank pages inside. I know, she just wants me to get better. I want me to get better. I promised to try.

  Anyway, the doc said to write whatever comes to mind, and I don’t ever have to share it with anyone. I do like the idea of having a secret from everyone. From Erin, my parents, Jon. It almost seems prodigal. Sometimes I envy my brother.

  So, here it goes, my big secret.

  I hate my job.

  No, I can do better than that.

  I HATE MY JOB!

  Yeah, that’s it.

  I hate accounting. I hate numbers, how they never vary. One plus one always equals two. They have no color or melody or scent. They always stay in their boundaries. Like me. Boring. Wish I wasn’t so good at it. Maybe if I start messing up, Mom and Pop will fire me.

  Now there’s a fantasy. With a wife and eight-year-old to support, that’ll never happen. Some days I hate being tied down to them.

  You know what? The doc was right. Getting my feelings down on paper is freeing.

  The problem is, how do I free myself from my family and the family business?

  Chapter Ten

  Oh, boy. Erin hid Corey’s journal inside her nightstand and slammed the drawer shut. No wonder Mik felt her dad didn’t like her. Not that it made Erin feel any better either. He’d felt tied down to them as if he had nothing to do with it? Maybe if he hadn’t pressed her for sex before they were married . . .

  She pounded her pillow to refrain from screaming.

  No, that was unfair. Yeah, Corey had pressed her on their college break, but she’d instigated it, flirting, hoping to wear him down. Yet, he was the Christian. He’d been raised to wait until marriage, whereas her mom had only told her to use protection. They’d both failed miserably at obeying their parents, and look where they ended up. Married with a child far too early. Was it any surprise that their marriage had ended in divorce?

  Raising Mik was going to be difficult enough, but raising Clara too? When she got to be Mik’s far-too-wise and inquisitive age, what would Erin tell her then about her father’s behavior?

  Erin re-opened the tableside drawer and took out her own journal. The way she was going, she’d need another journal by the end of the week.

  She started writing out a prayer . . .

  __________

  April 9, 2019

  Hey God, me again.

  Corey’s funeral was . . . odd. I saw so many old friends that either ignored me or avoided me. People think that when you divorce, you just divide up family and belongings. But that’s far from true. I got physical custody of Mik, and we shared legal custody with her spending a weekend a month at his place and the rest at mine, with her having no true home. Yet, I’m supposed to assure people that Mik will be so much better off because Corey and I couldn’t get along and were making our home a tense place to live.

  What a bunch of drivel.

  So yeah, our family and home were divided—I got the house, which also meant I got the mortgage and barely enough support to keep us afloat—but so were our friendships. After the divorce, people acted weird toward me. I guess I acted weird toward them too. The divorce embarrassed me. I was a failure, just like my mom and her mom and . . .

  Telling close friends (of which I had few. My time was spent raising our daughter and we didn’t have the money to go out, so friendships deteriorated) was hard enough, but how do you inform acquaintances? Like the women in my Bible study group who all have perfect marriages and were quick to point out what I should have done to save my marriage. I found a new Bible study group, one with real people who had messy lives, just like me.

  How was I supposed to inform people on social media? I just changed my status from “Married” to “Single” and hoped that people didn’t notice. Ha! People I barely knew were suddenly messaging me, trying to dig into my personal life. A lot of people judged me, threw Bible verses at me. How dare they! I deleted all my accounts shortly afterwards. I didn’t need “friends” like that.

  Then there were gossips at church I barely know, but who noticed right away that I was worshiping alone. Some, who knew about Corey, had the audacity to blame me for him cheating! Said if I’d paid him more attention, he wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere. I found a new church, too.

  How do you send out a joyful Christmas card when your big news is that your husband got another woman pregnant and asked for a divorce? Some people I know who’ve gotten a divorce just sent a family picture minus the spouse. All that would do was raise more questions, so I stopped sending Christmas cards.

  Oh, but Corey’s “lovely” new wife, she mailed out a beauty of her new family, which sent Mik into another tailspin. I’m not ashamed to say that I pegged that card to my bulletin board and mutilated it with stick pins. Should I apologize for that, God?

  Jon, who, as you know, handled the divorce, convinced us to craft an explanation (AKA, “a lie”) to appease the nosy and gossips. I’d summon a not-so-convincing smile and say, “We drifted apart, but we’re still friends. We stand together in raising our daughter who is adjusting well. We’d appreciate it if you’d respect our privacy.” Blah, blah, blah. I nearly choked every time I told that lie, when I really wanted to say, “The scumbag chose a new family over me and Mik. She’s very upset that her daddy doesn’t live at home anymore and that he doesn’t make time for her ball games.”

  But I digress. I was going to talk about the funeral, but my feelings—my anger—took over. Why is that the only feeling I reco
gnize?

  Anyway, Zax was right about the video story he crafted. It showed Corey as a baby, of course. Lots of pics with the two brothers. Then there were a lot of the 3 Sixlets, too. I even smiled at some of those. He also included a wedding photo—our wedding may have been small and rushed, but we’d been happy that day. And, of course, Zax included some of our Christmas card photos. The happy ones showing Mik growing from a baby to a nine-year-old.

  Then the cards stopped.

  And Zax literally said, “My brother messed up big time.” That almost made me cry. I loved seeing someone acknowledge the truth.

  From there, I tuned out a lot. I didn’t want to see him happily remarried. I didn’t want to see Mik glowering in her new family photos. I didn’t want to hear about the success Corey found with his mixed-media artwork.

  Because he found that happiness without me, and I wanted—I want to be happy too, and now he’s ruined that for me. Again.

  Yeah, I shed a few tears this afternoon, but not out of grief, rather, out of pity.

  The video ended with a stained-glass-like mosaic of Corey’s life. The good. The sad. And the faith filled. Including a verse from Ephesians that said we are Your masterpiece.

  That final frame was beautiful, and it promised good things. Not a bad video created by a non-believer.

  Am I really your masterpiece, God? Have you made me new to do good things for you? It sure doesn’t feel like it.

  Still, I hope.

  __________

  Erin dropped her pen at a shrill cry that made the hair on her arms stand up straight. What? Oh, Clara! She threw off her covers and hurried to the room next door, the office-turned-nursery.

  Clara held up her chubby little arms, her body shaking in sync with her sniffles.

  “Hey, Lollipop, what’s the matter?” Erin withdrew Clara from the foldable crib, using the nickname Zax had given her early on when her hair started growing out in ringlets like Shirley Temple. He’d been a sucker for her old movies and loved “On the Good Ship Lollipop.” So, with that, Clara’s nickname had been born. Hopefully, using the name now would help settle the child.