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I swallowed down my tears, like he said, and I cleared my throat. “If I’d known you’d be such a good boost to my ego, I would’ve spent a lot more time here.”
He smiled, but it was less bright than before. “Alright, after I’m dead, and after all the crying and the sitting there with my body, it’ll be time to get to work. George will know what to do. There’s no sugar-coating it, his job will be the toughest. He’ll bear the brunt of the emotional work, and he’ll grit his teeth and make his shoulders go all rigid, and pretend he’s not affected. Make sure Bethany helps him with my body. Do not let him be alone in that room with me.” Jim’s voice cracked finally. The pain of leaving this impossible task to his beloved son was too great to pretend he could take this lightly.
“Don’t let Gus be alone, either, even if he says he’s okay—he won’t be. Sofia can take charge of Raynie. It’s no secret my wife’s a loose cannon under the best circumstances. She’ll be calmer if she thinks she has to look after her granddaughter. But Sofia’s smart enough to know who’s really in charge.”
I laughed, and a snot bubble formed in one of my nostrils. Jim chuckled with me after a while.
“Use whatever florist Bethany wants. Donations can be made to Sofia’s youth orchestra, but it’s already in the pre-need. You can suggest Yia-Yiá and Raynie make some food. I know they’ll want to cook for everyone. Sofia might want to help. It’ll be good for her to have a task. She’ll feel needed and grown. Make sure they sleep, though. Don’t let them stay up for nights at a time baking koulurakia to go with the coffee that people are only drinking to be polite.”
I leaned into Jim’s ideas. He wasn’t planning his funeral. He and Raynie had pre-planned the disposition of his body. I was here to plan his death, and it seemed he’d already pre-planned that aswell. He’d been anticipating the small, slippery moments that were often the most difficult. It was easy to snap into gear when needed, but after that, when you were left alone in the corners of your grief, in solitude—that’s when it was most brutal.
“Soula?”
Jim’s eyes became glassy. He took a deep breath before swallowing thickly. The two of them had been the closest. Of the three kids, she was the most like him. He knew how much she needed him. Jim had a special bond with George and Gus—Bethany, too—but knowing he was leaving Soula hit him the hardest.
“She’ll be okay. She’ll be the most capable of handling my death. She compartmentalizes the best.”
His tears were too much. Maybe it wasn’t happening tomorrow, but soon enough, he’d be leaving everyone he loved. Everyone I loved. With all the deaths I’d experienced, none had been planned like this. It chilled me down to the bone.
“There’ll be a lot of people. We’ve buried a big chunk of this town, and they’ll want to pay their respects. Expect a big crowd, but don’t let them overwhelm you. Have a small luncheon thing—whatever they’re called—but don’t invite everyone. Just the family. Others can come to the services at the church, or the graveside.”
“Jim. What doyouneed? I’m here for you.”
“Can you find a way to make it easier to say goodbye to my children, knowing how much of their lives I’ll miss? My grandchildren? Sofia came into our lives late. I never got to see her as a little girl. Now, I won’t get to see her as a woman, either. What about Athena? She’s only a year old. I’ll miss her whole life. How many more babies will come along that I’ll never get to hold?
“I’ll never be ready. But… my body tells me I’m done. I can go willingly, or drag it out until I’m resented by everyone who loves me because they’ve had to care for this shell ofa body for so long. I’ve seen that more times than I’d like. I’ve seen every type of death. It’s my turn now. I’d like a little bit of a say, even if it’s just letting go when the time is right.”
I nodded. His words might feel like a stab in the gut, but I’d support him. “Gus said the Orthodox belief about death is that it’s little more than sleep.” I told him. “The saints are still here with us. You’ll be here with us, Jim.”
“A nice thought.”
We were quiet for a little while. My eyes focused on a knot in the wood paneling next to TV. Deep in the burled mahogany was a shocked little face. Two surprised eyes and a gaping O for a mouth. One of those inconsequential details you remembered at odd times.
“Don’t you have those cards anymore?” he asked.
“My tarot cards? I think I have a deck with me.”
“I must be the only one in the family you haven’t used them on.” He folded his hands expectantly in his lap.
“I never knew you wanted a reading.”
“Never did. Not specifically. But I don’t want to be the odd man out.”
I bit back the pain in my throat. “Would you like to do that now?”
“Now or never,” he joked.
“Take a sip first. You should be hydrating. Even if itisbeer.”
He nodded again and sipped from the can.
“What would you like to know? The cards work best if you ask questions.”
“Just tell me something good.”
I pulled out my cards. Held them out for Jim to touch. Then shuffled.
Tell me something good, Granny.
