Chapter 74
One Tuesday morning in March, I woke up early couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt something wasn’t right; maybe it was just too quiet. I went in and sat next to him on the bed.
His skin was grayish but his face was peaceful and relaxed. I hoped that he’d gotten to see what it was like, as he’d wanted to, and didn’t sleep through it. I sat with him and cried, holding his hand, cool to the touch. I was calm and sad, maybe a little numb.
After a while I got up and called Daniel, then went to wake Jessie.
She didn’t cry right away. She stretched out next to Dad on the bed and held him tight, as if she could somehow keep him from going away. She finally let go, and I held her close while we wept together.
When Gus came, we let him go in and say goodbye. I thanked him for the care he had given, and paid him for the rest of the month. After a half hour or so, a hearse pulled up. Two strong men slid Dad’s thin body onto a gurney and zipped the bag over him. They came back in for the suit the tailor had dropped off. I gave them a bag with his tie, shoes, a pair of socks, and his watch. Then they took him to be embalmed.
We stripped his bed and threw the sheets into the hamper. Jessie fished out the pillowcase and sat on the floor holding it to her face, weeping and shaking.
“Do you want me to hold you?”
“No, just let me be for now. It hurts too bad.”
I got out our address book and started making calls; Grandpa Joe, Aunt Mel, and the rest. I called Dave and asked if it was okay to stay with them. He was sad to hear about Dad, but told me that we were welcome to stay at the house as long as we wanted.
Jess called her girlfriends and was relieved to get through to Jody. She spent a long time talking to each one, even Janna.
While she was on the phone I packed our clothes for the trip and puttered around, trying to keep busy, trying to hold the agony at bay. I picked up Dad’s pain pills from off the nightstand and hesitated. I knew they were strong. Maybe just one...
I went into the bath. My hand shook as I twisted the cap. I swallowed hard and poured the capsules into the toilet. As they circled down, I sat on the tile and wept again.
About four, Daniel called and said Dad was ready, and that Grace had booked a flight for us. They picked us up and took us to a restaurant. They ordered food for us, and we ate it. I didn’t really taste anything. Then they took us to the airport, where we all boarded a commercial flight for Michigan.
Out the window I saw men load the mahogany coffin. Dad was right; it was really nice.
Jessie barely said a word the whole trip, but we took turns crying on each other’s shoulder. For a while Daniel told us stories about Dad when he was in the Army, and we laughed and I felt okay. When we started our decent into Escanaba, I got sad again. A rental car and another hearse waited for us at the airport.
I dropped off the Franks at the Breakers. Jessie and I had dinner at the house with Dave and Beth, and spent the evening in the living room as friends came and went. We didn’t hide our rings.
I desperately needed to talk about something other than Dad.
“How’s married life, Dave?”
“That part’s good.”
“What part isn’t?”
“Other kids at school. The guys are always bugging me to buy beer for them. And condoms.”
“You are buying those, I hope.”
“I don’t like beer, and I’m not going to jail for serving minors. But the other things? Even though there’s no more monkey business with the pills, we’re definitely not taking any chances.”
“That’s good.”
“The bigger problem is the other kids don’t seem to understand that this is our home. They want to borrow the key so they can skip school and have sex here. They think they can crash here when they’re mad at their parents. They assume it’s party central every weekend.”
“What do you do?”
“We turn them away. When we have to, we call the cops.”
“Has that happened often?”
“Once or twice a week. It was out of control for a while, but now everybody’s mad at us. Now we’re so uncool. They egged the place and TP’ed the trees. It was kind of the in thing for a while.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it. Beth hasn’t told Jess any of this.”
“We didn’t want to worry you.”
“Maybe you would’ve been better off at your folks’ place.”
“It’s getting better, and we like it here. We know they’re just immature and jealous. It’ll pass.”
“Well, the place looks great. You’ve kept it up nicely.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. We’ve been working at it. We really appreciate the use.”
“Have you heard from Spaz?”
“Yeah, he’s out. He couldn’t come tonight, but promised he’d stop by the viewing tomorrow.”
“It’ll be good to see him.”
“I guess Jody wrote him every day while he was there. Now they’re a hot item.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for both of them.”
That night Jessie and I slept in my old bed, under the ugly quilt.
“Hey, Sis,” I whispered, do you want to mess around?”
“You’re funny. Shut up and hold me safe. I’m not doing too well right now.”
“Do you want me to sing to you?”
“Would you?”
We slept late, showered and dressed; me in my new dark suit and tie, Jessie in a conservative, navy blue dress. We ate brunch at the Honey Tree.
“Jess, is it me, or are people staring?”
“It’s not you. They’re whispering, too.”
“Maybe they’ve never seen an interracial couple.” That made her smile.
“This’s going to be interesting.”
“I really hope we get through the day without anyone causing a scene.”
I stopped and bought a newspaper on the way out. In the truck, Jessie read the obituary for me. It asked for donations to the American Cancer Society in lieu of flowers. There were a lot of flowers anyway.
The rest of our day was spent at Anderson’s, attending the viewing. They had done a good job with Dad. You had to get really close to see the make-up. I thought it might be creepy or super sad to see him like that, but I knew it was just his empty shell.
Daniel said, “I’m gunna stick close by ya today if ya don’t mind. I understand that feelin’s might be runnin’ high, an’ don’t want you havin’ to deal with that.”
“Thanks, Grampa.”
“Now you cut that out,” he said with a sneer. “When’d you git to be such a smartass? Just don’t make it great-grampa, understand?”
We greeted people as they arrived, and Daniel hovered nearby, ready to come to our aid if needed. A lot of people we didn’t recognize came, some of them just to gawk at us. We could tell. They always left without signing the register.
Dave and Beth came early. It was the first time they’d ever been to a funeral or viewing and I could tell it really shook them to see Dad like that. Jess and I had gotten a chance to be part of the process and say our goodbyes, but the last time they’d seen Dad, he was still active and very much alive.
I recognized a guy with bad hair.
“Excuse me. You’re with Channel Three, aren’t you? Are you here as a reporter?”
“No, but I understand your asking. I just wanted to offer you my condolences. I interviewed you after the fire and you impressed me. You probably don’t remember.”
“I remember. It was kind of you to come.”
“I do have to ask; would you be willing to give me an interview sometime?”
Jessie and I looked at each other.
“I don’t know. We’d really have to talk about it. Excuse me. Doctor Prakesh, thanks for coming.”
Janna was practically in tears. “Oh, Jessie, my life has sucked so bad since you left!”
“Do you guys want to go talk?”
“Not right now,” Jessie said.
Harrad just looked bored. He still didn’t smell very good.
Ladies from the church hugged us and kissed our cheeks. The sheriff and other guys praised Dad, grasped my shoulder and gripped me in firm handshakes.
Reverend Adams came in. He glanced at us but chose to go to Dad. He stood there for several minutes, praying fervently. He talked to several of his parishioners, shaking his head often. Looking indecisive, he glanced at us again and headed over.
I held out my hand but he didn’t take it.
“I’m sorry about your father, and I suppose I can understand how a brain tumor could affect his judgment. But I have to say, I’m just shocked and disappointed with you two. You have to know how wrong this is.”
“Listen, you sanctimonious ass-hat,” Jessie spat under her breath. “God gave us each other to love, and he didn’t ask you. We don’t need your approval.”
“Wait, Jess. Reverend, even our Dad was really uncomfortable with how this worked out, so we don’t expect our relationship will get everyone’s blessing. But we appreciate your coming to pay your respects…”
“But this is just sick. It’s depraved.”
“Um, maybe this isn’t the place…”
“Somebody has to be honest with you. You two are an abomination.”
A beefy hand landed gently on the Reverend’s shoulder.
“Good mornin’, sir. Daniel Franks. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I wonder if I might have a word with you out in the foyer right quick.”
“No, it’s important that they hear the truth.”
“I think what’s important is not gittin’ yer ass whooped in public by a man twice your age. Now, if yah wanna keep all those pearly whites in yer face, you’ll come with me real quiet-like.”
The younger man studied Franks for a moment and decided the judge wasn’t bluffing. Daniel winked at me as he led the Reverend to the door.
Aunt Mel came in, hugged both of us affectionately, and spent a long time beside the casket, staring at her brother’s face. Beth’s mom slipped in quietly. She stood next to Aunt Mel for several minutes, saying nothing. When I went to greet her, Georgia recoiled and practically ran out of the room.
Jess would hug people and shake hands, but was unusually quiet.
“How are you holding up?” I asked. “Why don’t you go sit down for a while?”
She didn’t answer, but clenched my arm tighter, so I did most of the talking for us.
“Hi Moose. Mr. Palmer, thanks for coming. Yeah, he was a good man. Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, yes, we’ve missed seeing you, too. Mrs. Loomis, thanks for being here. Hi, Jim, it’s good to see you again. Thanks for the beautiful flowers. Grampa Joe. I know, way too soon.”
That’s how the whole day went, over and over. Even without the gawkers, the register held over a hundred names.
“So things worked out okay for your little problem, eh?” Father John teased.
“Yes, and thank you again for your tip. You could have been a little more specific, you know.”
“I knew you’d figure it out.”
“How did you even know about the case?”
“I knew how you felt from talking with your father. After I spoke to Jessica, I called Franks and asked him if it was possible.”
“Why?”
“It was a logical solution, elegant even. And besides, I’m a hopeless romantic. You and Jessie remind me so much of your parents when they were young. I thought it would be good if you had one another. You’re like your father in many ways, Cory. He’ll live on in you.”
Spaz and Jody arrived, holding hands. He was wearing regular jeans a nice sweater. There was a new gentleness on his face, and it was really cool to see the obvious affection between them. He nodded to me and walked to the casket, where he broke down in tears. I excused myself and went to him.
“I miss him so much, man. He was like a second dad to me. I never got to tell him.”
“I know, Rob. He liked you – I think he knew how you felt.”
We hugged longer than guys usually hold each other, but it felt right.
“I’ve missed you terribly, Cory,” he sighed.
“I’ve missed you guys a lot, too. Can you come over to the house tonight? It’d be good to catch up without such a crowd.”
“Yeah, we’d like that. Look, here’s the rest of the family.”
Rob’s sisters came in, and Liz gave me a huge hug. She whispered in my ear, “I can’t believe you sent us all that money! I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
“We don’t want it back. Hopefully it’s enough to get you by until you graduate high school. If not, let me know. And I want you to make sure that the younger ones are eating three good meals a day.”
Jess took Beth and Jody to one of the side rooms to talk Janna looked absolutely crushed, but then Beth came out a minute later to get her, and Janna’s face just lit up. I’d never seen it before, but she had a really nice smile.
Before they left, Jody gave me a lingering hug.
“Cory,” she whispered, “I was never brave enough to tell you, but…”
“I know.”
“I… I would have at least liked to have kissed you, just once.”
“It wouldn’t have been right. I was already married, a long time ago. You deserve someone who can love you with their whole heart.”
“I think I’m good there.”
“You know what, Jody? I’ve seen Rob happy before, but I’ve never seen him smile the way he smiles at you. Take good care of each other. We’ll see you later, okay?”
The next day was the funeral and a short graveside service. By then I wasn’t sure if we could cry anymore, but we did. I was starting to worry about Jess getting dehydrated. She used nail polish to draw a small, purple heart on the rich wood of the casket, and I added the letters “A&F”. The wind in the cemetery was bitter cold, and it started to snow.
Two days later, on the flight home, Jessie said, “I’m exhausted, but it was so good to talk to people.”
“It makes me sad. It’s like now we have to grieve their loss all over again.”
“Cory, we’ve been cooped up too much. It’s not healthy.” She looked at me. “What would you think of going back to high school?”
“In Esky? I don’t think that’d be a good idea. I mean, people were on their best behavior this week. I think it could get ugly if we overstayed our welcome.”
“No, at home.”
“Oh. Yeah, maybe. I’d like to think about it if you don’t mind.”
“We don’t have to, but I think it might be good for us.”
It took me a few minutes, but I said, “That would mean we wouldn’t start college for another two years. Dad said he wanted us to have momentum.”
“I think that two years of low stress would be healthier. We’d be more like normal kids our age.”
“Can I take you to the prom?”
“I’d love that.”
“Well, I guess there’s no harm in trying. We can always go back to home schooling if it doesn’t work out. But… our lease is going to run out before summer break. Maybe we should move first.”
“That’s a great idea! I wasn’t looking forward to an empty apartment anyway.”
“So, what would you look for in a new place?”
Her whole face broke into a huge smile. “I want lots of space, big windows, high ceilings, and beautiful views. I want bright colors and living plants. I want art on the walls.” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “I want room to practice karate, and a workshop. That would be so good for you. I want a place where we can have friends over, you know, from the karate club, from church and school. I want it to be the place everybody comes to.”
It was good to have a new goal.
We cut back on our studies for a while, and Daniel recommended a realtor. Steamboat Springs wasn’t that big a place back then, but it took a couple weeks of
looking. At night we talked about the pros and cons of each property we’d seen while we wrote out the hundred thank-you notes. It took both of us to carry them all into the post office.
We got lots of mail, too. Bills, statements from mutual funds and the bank, a thank you from the American Cancer Society, and one day, an envelope from Anderson’s. Inside was a nice letter with a picture of the gravestone, Dad’s dates now filled in. July 4, 1942 to March 20, 1984. I was able to smile. It looked complete, like “the end” on the last page of a good story.
We still suffered fits of sadness and depression, but we helped each other through them, and they gradually happened less often. Dad’s last gift was preparing us for his absence.
We were feeling blue the morning we drove to see the house on Everest street. Maybe it was the warm sunshine and the sound of wind in the trees, but the closer we got, the better I felt.
As soon as we walked inside, Jessie grabbed me and said “This is it!”
The home had been standing empty for a couple months, and was bigger than we needed. But it had high ceilings and big windows, just like she wanted. The price was reasonable for the neighborhood, but even so, the idea of parting with so much money made me cringe.
We’d been preapproved for the bank loan. We didn’t need it, technically, but like Dad had said, it would build up our credit. As part of the deal we put a quarter of the price down in cash. The sellers were thrilled to close quickly. It took another three weeks furnish the place and get entirely moved in. I installed a smoke detector in every room.
There was an art exhibit at the community college on Thursday, and we bought several pieces by one student. She painted in broad strokes of vibrant colors. We took them to a frame shop and had them mounted. I also asked them to blow up the picture of us on the couch, and had them seal the silk rose in a shadow box. We hung that by the front door.
The next morning over coffee – yeah, I’d started to acquire a taste for it – Jessie said, “Cory, let’s go out and buy me a car.”
“Why? We’ve got the truck.”
“No,” she said, taking my hand, “I want a car of my own.”
“Like what?”
“A Mustang.”
“Not a Chevy?”
“No, I noticed it on the lot - I think they look cool. It’s red, a convertible.”
“A convertible? In northern Colorado? That’s not even practical. You may as well ride a motorcycle.”
“I don’t want something practical. I want something fun. I want a GT.”
“Um, aren’t those, like twenty thousand dollars?”
“I don’t know, but that’s not the point. The house and everything is new, but it’s ours to share. I want something new just for me.”
“We don’t need it.”
“Maybe I need it. What have I ever asked for, just for myself?”
“Look, Jess, we just bought the house, furnished it, got new appliances, and decorated. It makes me nervous – we’re going to have to pay hundreds of thousands in taxes at the end of the year. I think we’ve spent enough money for now.”
“I know all that. But you aren’t listening.”
“All I’m hearing is spend, spend, spend.”
“Cory, I really want this.”
“Not now, okay? Maybe later.”
“Okay, I… I guess I’ll wait. I understand how worried you get about money. If we just had our first fight, you win.”
“Thank you. I’m just feeling really frazzled. I think everything’s finally catching up with me.”
“Do you need some space? Maybe you should go play guitar for a while. That makes you less stressed.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.”
I got the old wooden case from under our bed and opened it. I took the humidifier out of the guitar’s sound hole and tuned old Olie up. Almost time for some new strings.
As I played and relaxed, I tried to work out what was bothering me. Part of it was that I had this beautiful home, beautiful wife and even this amazing guitar. The problem was that I had done nothing to earn any of it.
The guitar was a gift; I accepted that. I guessed the house was a gift from Mom. It was a lot, but she would have wanted us to have it. And Jessie? Yeah, I saved her and fought for her, but that didn’t seem enough. She could have any guy she wanted, but she wanted me. On every count I was lucky. Maybe blessed would be a better word.
I thought about what Jessie had said. It was true, she had never asked for anything just for herself. Not even when we were kids. She could have bought herself designer jeans or hoarded shoes, but she didn’t. She was always so practical. I assumed she was just frugal, like me. But then again, she’d had so much fun shopping with Beth, and that definitely wasn’t cheap.
Sure, we had more money, but it hadn’t changed my thrifty nature. Had she changed, or had she always wanted more, and just… What? Never thought she deserved it? How weird. Or maybe not. She’d had nothing before she was adopted. Maybe it was a good sign that she was finally asking.
I wiped down the strings and put Olie away. I grabbed Dad’s old briefcase, the one with all our papers in it.
Jess was sitting on the new sofa, looking at a cookbook, trying to decide what she wanted for dinner. I came up from behind and wrapped my arms around her.
“Thanks for giving me a little space. You know me so well. Come on, get your jacket.”
She hugged my arms. “Mmm, thank you. I do know you, don’t I?”
“I told you that if we ever fought that you’d win.”
“And you told me to make sure I got my own needs met.”
“I did, didn’t I? Is it going to wreck the experience for you if I try to get the price down a little?”
“You can work out the money while I’m taking a test drive.”
“Deal. And then you can drive us to the high school.”
When she drove back into the dealership lot in her new car, I had to admit it; the look on her face was worth every penny.
We left the truck at the dealer and she drove us to the high school. The secretary at Steamboat Springs High didn’t quite know what to do with our enrollment papers. She’d never had a form where the lines labeled “Parents’ names” said “None”.
“Are you brother and sister?”
“Um, no, we’re a married couple.”
“I think that’s a first, too. Let me run this past Ms. Winslow.” She got up and took all our documentation into the principal’s office. After a minute she came back out and asked, “Can I make copies of these?”
“Of course.”
“You’ll need to pick some classes,” she said from the copy machine. Back at the counter, she helped us choose our schedules, and then gave us a tour of the building, pointing out the rooms we’d be going to.
“I guess that’s it, kids. Here’s a copy of the student handbook. Don’t expect any special treatment because you’re married. When you’re here, you’re just another student. See you next Monday.”
Outside, Jessie kissed me passionately. A man by the door warned us, “Cool it kids. Not on school grounds.” We got a great laugh out of that.
The next week we started classes. We sat next to each other whenever we could. We were lab partners. We got in trouble for passing notes and for public displays of affection. We got teased a lot, but we didn’t care.
I got asked about my scars, which I expected. It felt good just to be able to talk about them without shame. I found that I didn’t even mind mirrors anymore. The old wounds were part of me. If Jessie could accept them, I could, too.
It was high school, so of course a lot of guys leered and asked me about our sex life. I’d just say, “Maybe. First, tell me about yours.” Most had little to say.
One junior bragged, “I bang my girlfriend every night. How about you?”
I held up my scarred right hand. “Does your girlfriend look anything like this?” All the other guys laughed.
After a fe
w weeks, guys started coming to me with serious questions. I told them the things that Dad told me. I tried to be as calm and reassuring as he had been. I stressed what he’d said about getting verbal, enthusiastic consent. I explained to them why protection was their concern, and their responsibility. I started carrying condoms in my backpack to give my classmates when they asked.
Some came to me with their relationship problems. Mostly I just listened, but sometimes I reminded them that the world didn’t revolve around their own needs and desires. Generally, it wasn’t what they wanted to hear.
I was pleased when Jessie told me that she was talking to the girls, too. After that, I made sure that she always had some condoms with her as well. The lady at our local pharmacy just shook her head every time I came in for another couple dozen.
Ms. Winslow took me aside one day.
“Mr. Laine, I personally appreciate your efforts to promote hygiene among the student body. I understand that you accept no payment.”
“I think anyone who needs protection should have it.”
“Hmmm. I think you’re providing an important service. However, as a district official, I cannot condone the distribution of contraceptives on school grounds, certainly not without risking the wrath of some of our more conservative, and in my mind, shortsighted parents. Please make sure that any future transactions are conducted off-campus.”
“I’d be happy to meet with any parents who are concerned.”
“Young man, how I wish I could pawn that off on you. It’s best for your enterprise, though, if you remain merely another anonymous sophomore. I’m looking for plausible deniability. On the other hand, I could hardly be expected to prevent teenagers from discussing the topic, within the bounds of propriety of course.”
“I’ll try to be discrete, and not cause any problems.”
“Thank you. This conversation never occurred.”
When I told Jessie about it later, she suggested that we start riding the bus instead of driving to school. “That’s not on campus.”
I laughed. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“I have a problem, though,” she said. “I heard that a girl is selling the ones I give her. Do you think I should cut her off?”
“No, she’s obviously reaching girls that you aren’t getting to directly. Otherwise, they’d take them free.”
“Good point,” she said.
“On the other hand, if she gets caught, she’ll throw us under the big yellow bus in a heartbeat.”
“True, but probably so would any of the others. I’m willing to take that risk. You?”
“Yeah, I’m good with that. The worst they can do is expel us.”
“Can you make dinner tonight, Cory? I have a ton of homework.”
“I do, too, but we have that frozen lasagna. I can throw that that in the oven and make some veggies.”
“Yeah, that would be great, thanks, Sweetheart.”
“Anything for you, Jess.”
As the weeks have gone by, our lives are settling into a new kind of normal. In a way, it’s like being twelve again. By society’s standards, we’re too young to be on our own, but we manage anyway. We ride the bus to school. We go to karate and guitar lessons and to church. Sunday afternoons we have an early dinner with the Franks.
Every day I take out the garbage and every week I bring home fresh flowers for Jessie. We do the laundry, go shopping, cook, and clean. We do our homework together and have our friends over. We say thank you for each little thing the other does, because we love and appreciate each other.
But now every night we share very, very dangerous kisses. We know what “more” means, and we embrace it with gleeful ferocity.
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The End
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