Tom Hubbard Is Dead
Chapter Twenty-Six
Julian wanted his old high school friend, Ted Dorsey, to accompany him and Melanie when they went in to pay their respects to Mrs. Hubbard. Although Julian was fond of Mrs. Hubbard, he feared that if he went in to see her alone she would smell the alcohol on his breath and confront him about his drinking. Out of all the people he knew at the reception, he figured she would be the one who would know he was half-drunk. She had called him on it once before, shortly after high school graduation, on one of his rare visits with Tom at the farmhouse. She asked him why he drank so much and then told him, “A drinking life leads to nowhere but misery.”
Despite the overwhelming number of people who had given him similar warnings, his own mother included, it was Mrs. Hubbard’s simple, direct words from fifteen years ago that haunted him. So he needed Ted to join him and Melanie for additional reinforcement—two people to hide behind, confusing Mrs. Hubbard, throwing her off her game so she wouldn’t confront him.
Julian and Melanie cornered Ted, his back against the buffet table. “You have to come in with us,” Julian insisted. “It will be like old times, like we came to pick up Tom or something. You know, like we used to.”
Ted swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bouncing as he spoke: “I don’t think it’s appropriate.”
Melanie nudged Julian, signaling she wanted him to ask Ted again. She needed additional cover as well. Julian alone wasn’t enough; worrying Aunt Casey would spot the insidious glow of alcohol on her in mere seconds. Moreover, Melanie suspected that because she had avoided Aunt Casey for weeks now—actively since the news of Tom’s death—her aunt was likely already suspicious that the drinking had started again. Melanie did not want to disappoint Aunt Casey, especially given how proud Mrs. Hubbard had been about the two years of sobriety. Best to hide it, best to prevent Auntie from suffering further troubles.
Julian responded to Melanie’s nudge and pushed Ted. “Sure it’s appropriate; old friends going in to pay their respects together. Makes perfect sense.”
“I’ve already visited her with my family.”
“For old times,” Melanie begged.
“No, you two should go in together without me.” Ted sidestepped along the buffet table away from the pair, uncomfortable with their obvious reluctance to see Mrs. Hubbard on their own.
“Alright, then we’ll just go in,” Julian said definitively, shifting his weight from side to side.
Melanie swayed with him.
They shared a closeness that had just re-blossomed over drinks.
Arnaldo, the caterer, asked if they were in line.
Julian and Melanie smiled at one another and Julian answered “No” for them.
Ted, still nearby, looked down at the wide-board pine floor. He was sure Julian was buzzed, but he began to suspect that Melanie was, too. He had known her since she was a girl. She was one of those people whose personalities clicked on like a light switch and became extra alive when she put alcohol in her body. And now, with Julian on her arm, she was positively radiant. Was it the alcohol or Julian or both? Ted wondered.
Ted heard the town gossip from his wife. There had been a car accident, an arrest for drunk driving, and then lawyer fees and gambling debts that forced Melanie to sell the land across the street from her house. He heard all of that was in the past—he thought she was on the straight and narrow now. But maybe not.
The door swung open and Elizabeth marched through the dining room with her arms folded tightly across her chest. She disappeared into the entrance hallway.
“What’s wrong with her?” Melanie asked.
“Right, let’s talk to your cousin first—maybe she’ll join us?” Julian said, speaking into Melanie’s ear through her black hair. “You smell beautiful,” he added with a husky whisper.
An exciting chill rushed up her spine. She leaned in and whispered back into his ear the only thing she could think of to say. “Did you see her? She’s such a snit. Always has to be the center of everything. Oh, look at me. I’m the most important person in the room.”
Julian forced a laugh.
Ted, embarrassed by their exchange, moved further away from the lovebirds. At the makeshift bar he nodded “hello” to a casually-dressed middle-aged couple who were debating whether or not to have another drink or just leave. Much of the earlier crowd had already left. In fact, when the couple finally chose to depart, Ted noticed that the dining room was practically empty of mourners. Arnaldo gave his assistant a knowing look and without a word they began to cautiously remove the last of the steaming, silver food trays from the buffet.
Just then, Tony poked his head into the dining room from the kitchen access hallway and issued a directive before ducking back out again. “Mel,” he said, “get your shit together and go see Aunt Casey already.”
“Fuck him,” Melanie whispered to Julian. As much as she hated being told what to do, she resisted the urge to respond loudly and defensively to her brother’s order, even though he had embarrassed her in front of Julian, the one place she wanted to look cool. She guessed Tony knew she was drinking and wanted to avoid a family confrontation in front of Julian, who had no idea she had ever stopped. Melanie had neglected to mention it to him. In fact, during their series of late night phone calls over the past couple of years, she also neglected to mention any of the trouble that drinking had brought her.
“One more before we go?” Julian asked, guiding Melanie to the bar. He took two plastic cups and poured a couple of ounces of scotch whiskey into each. “That should do the trick.” He handed one to her. “I’m a vodka man myself. But this is a formal event.” Looking into each other’s eyes they drank and gasped and choked together.
“Whew!” Melanie wheezed, setting the cup down.
She lightly gripped Julian’s forearm as they navigated their way through the living room where Juan’s son, Eduardo, who had brought Gabriella and his grandmother Patella to the reception to sit with Mrs. Hubbard, kept the flames alive in the large living room hearth. In the late afternoon light, some of the thinning crowd sat in little groups on the couches and chairs, chatting, while others simply milled about the long room. Melanie recognized most, but instead of saying hello, she tightly hung onto Julian’s arm. She even ignored the two older Hubbard brothers who grimaced at her and Julian as they passed.
She enjoyed thinking that all these people—with their cozy little families and their sweet little children—could now see proof, in the form of a man at her side, that she had someone, too, just like they did. You see, she silently told the crowd, I’m not alone either.
Elizabeth stood in the doorway to the small reception room where Mrs. Hubbard sat, the back of her sleek black dress facing the living room.
“Hello there,” Julian said meekly. He wanted to sound bold to impress Melanie. But Elizabeth’s back, blocking the doorway, was daunting. Although they were close to the same height, heels made her taller and her overwhelming perfume and pure white skin intimidated him.
“Elizabeth,” he said louder, summoning courage.
“Un momentito,” she said without looking, turning only slightly and continuing to speak in broken gringo Spanish. She was busy negotiating, forcing, an hourly wage onto Gabriella and Patella. She wanted the older Latina women to clean the house instead of wasting their time sitting on the couch watching her mother for endless hours. The women were not interested.
“Just a sec,” she repeated in English.
“Lizzy, let us in,” Melanie demanded, to which Elizabeth finally turned around.
“Mel! And … ?” Elizabeth had recognized Julian before when passing through the dining room, but now paused for added effect. “Julian?” she said with false surprise. “How are you?”
The thought of a friendly hug crossed both their minds, but neither leaned forward. Elizabeth could smell the cigarettes and booze on Julian, and Julian continued to shrink, frightened.
“I’m fine,” he answered. “Under the circumstances, that is.” H
e dropped his voice down: “I’m so sorry about Tom.”
“She’ll be happy to see you,” Elizabeth said, ignoring the condolences. “She’s always thought so highly of you. And Melanie,” aggravation lined her voice. “Finally! I told her you were here, and of course she keeps asking, ‘Where’s Melanie? Where’s Melanie?’” Elizabeth mimicked her mother as she waved her hands. “‘Could you ask your cousin to come in?’” Elizabeth stopped and cupped one hand to the side of her mouth. “Anyway,” she whispered, pointing to Gabriella and Patella with her thumb, “let me get these two out of here. I want to see if I can get this place cleaned up again before they go.”
“Liz, you’re such a brat.”
Elizabeth shushed Melanie by raising a palm. Then, turning to face the small room and using both hands, she shooed the two older women off the couch and ushered them into the kitchen.
“What a trip she is,” Julian said.
Melanie stepped into the reception room. Elizabeth’s perfume hung in the air and mixed with the heat of the fire, making it difficult to breath.
“Auntie,” she said, placing a hand on Mrs. Hubbard’s shoulder. Julian silently slid into the room behind her and sat on the newly vacated couch.
Mrs. Hubbard’s head fell forward, then suddenly snapped back as she caught herself drifting into a nap. She breathed deep and opened both eyes. The mixture of alcohol and medication was wearing off and things were becoming clearer. She could now hear the individual crackles of the fire as the sap sizzled in the logs.
“Auntie, are you alright?”
The old woman leaned back and looked over her shoulder. “Well, look who finally decided to come. Melanie, dear, sit, talk to me. Where have you been? I called out the cavalry to find you.”
“Auntie, look who I brought with me,” Melanie said, stepping to the side to escape her aunt’s attention.
“Julian, oh son, don’t sit so far away. Please come here. Let me see you.”
Julian remained on the couch. “I’m not feeling well and I’m afraid I’ll pass it on to you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Mrs. Hubbard said, patting the arm of her chair and raising her voice. “How thoughtful of you to come. You would have made him so happy.”
Her neck looked thin, old, and as she pushed her head forward to study him, her expression saddened. “Julian, it’s been so long. I wish you weren’t such a stranger.”
“Unfortunately, it has been a while.” Guilt grabbed his insides. Maybe he was just paranoid, but he was pretty sure she could tell he’d been drinking. Back in high school, when he did come over, he suspected that the hugs at the door were actually attempts to smell his breath. He knew that she knew all the signs—the droop in his shoulders, the cocky expression on his face and the overcompensation in his carefully articulated speech.
“It’s really so nice to see you. There’s a buffet in the dining room. Have you eaten?” she asked, eyes moving from Julian to Melanie and back. Neither of them would meet her gaze.
“Melanie, why haven’t you called? Is everything all right, child?” Mrs. Hubbard tried not to sound upset but she was beginning to see that Melanie had been drinking. Her heart sank. “Are you alright?”
Melanie focused on the floor as she heard disappointment in the old woman’s voice. Aware that her aunt saw past any attempt to use Julian as a distraction, Melanie suddenly felt naked, alone, and despite the heat in the room, almost cold. Her lips tightened and quivered and, covering her brow, attempted to hide the welling tears.
“Melanie,” Mrs. Hubbard said softly as she tried to see around her niece’s hand.
She had suspected weeks ago, long before Tom died, when Melanie stopped the regular visits and calls, that her niece was soon ready for a fall—all she needed was an excuse. And if Melanie’s father or her own husband were any example, Mrs. Hubbard knew that loneliness could be enough of an excuse.
She was at a loss as to how to help her niece. Experience had taught that once the drinking began anew she could only pray that God would intervene and relieve her niece from the madness.
Mrs. Hubbard looked again at Melanie and then Julian, leaned her head back into the cushion of the chair and, feeling defeated, closed her eyes.