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It’s obvious that they had to use a ton of makeup to cover his wounds. I honestly wouldn’t have recognized him. There should be tears running down my face right now, but instead, all I feel is numbness. The tears don’t come until I see Nana’s face. She comes completely unglued as she approaches the casket.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, slipping my arm around her as she gazes down upon him.
“He was in his prime,” she sobs. Her entire body is convulsing as she breaks down and cries with the hurt that only a mother can feel. I turn toward her and wrap both arms around her. She’s so frail and unsteady. She shouldn’t have to go through this.
“It’s okay Mom,” Margaret comes up behind her and pulls her from me. “He’s in a better place.”
“He was way too young. It should have been me,” she cries. “It should have been me.”
I step back and wipe the tears from my eyes. No, it was meant to be him. He wasn’t nearly as good of a person as you or Papa. I am very sad for her loss, but it is hard to even pretend that I am hurt by the fact that he is no longer with us. An empty hollowness resides where the sadness should be found.
I wander from person to person greeting them and sharing condolences. Everyone looks so much older than I remember. I suppose I haven’t seen most of them since my high school graduation. Everyone is somber, but other than Grandma, I haven’t seen a single tear. Not even from his fiancé. She is over in the corner on her cell phone, apparently making final arrangements for the funeral. The whole scene is rather sad. Everyone is commenting on Tyler’s recent engagement to Vanessa and wondering where my girlfriend is. I joke that I will be bringing both of them to the funeral.
After a short prayer service, the small crowd is asked to share their memories of my father. Everyone sits in silence, waiting for someone else to speak. I think back to the fishing trip once again. If someone doesn’t say something soon, I decide that I will talk about that. My mother finally stands up and starts out by telling everyone what a great father he was to Tyler and me. Her voice cracks a bit as she talks about how he always provided for all of our needs and was there for us whenever we needed him. I glance at Tyler and we both nod our heads in agreement. This is the mother I remember from my youth; she was always the thoughtful, softhearted one.
~~~
“Where are you guys?” I ask Liv after slipping out a side door.
“We are at the Rose bar in Gramercy,” she replies.
“That was one of my three guesses. I’m on my way.” I slide into the limo and ask the driver to drop me off before coming back for my mother. He doesn’t see a problem with my plan. I feel a little bad about bailing without saying goodbye to anyone, but I’ll see most of them again tomorrow. I just didn’t feel good in there. I’ll be glad when this whole ordeal is over.
Creeping through traffic, my mind flashes back to having my arms wrapped around Vanessa. God, she still looks good. She seems to be one of those women who continue to improve with age. Tyler, on the other hand, appears to still be high on painkillers with that hazy look in his eyes. Mom doesn’t seem to think there is an issue, but I know he was completely stoned today. I plan on talking to Vanessa about it before I head back to California.
Part of me wants to head back as soon as possible, but I know that won’t be possible. Tyler and I will now be the two largest shareholders in the company, so we will most likely have some level of responsibility. It’s amazing to think that it all would’ve gone away on Monday. Apparently I do have a little positive karma working for me. There is no other explanation for how things ultimately worked out.
“Holy shit!” A barrage of photographers swarms our limo as we pull up to the Gramercy Park Hotel. They must think I’m a celebrity or something, since it’s one of the hotspots for the rich and famous.
“I’ll do my best to clear a path for you,” the driver says before attempting to open his door. He’s at least six foot four and outweighs me by fifty or more pounds, so I’ll let him blaze the trail through this crowd.
Stepping out of the car, I’m immediately greeted with the sound of snapping shutters and people yelling at me. One reporter has the balls to ask whether my brother or me had anything to do with my father’s death. Another asks whether or not we’ve been called in for questioning. What the fuck is wrong with these people? I put my head down and follow my driver into the hotel.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, sir,” the driver says after we make it through the revolving doorway and into the hotel lobby.
