Last Time

I stood motionless, half expecting those eyes to open. The room was dim and stuffy, the rain made it humid.The pale, wrinkled skin had me in its grips when a hand touched my shoulder. It broke the trance and I jumped. I must’ve made a strange noisy, because everybody turned and looked. I gave an embarrassed smile and was confronted with an unknown face.

“I’m sorry”, she said while quickly withdrawing her arm, “I know how upset you must be. He was a great man.”

I wondered to whom she was referring, but her tearful glance in his direction revealed it. I wanted to pull her aside and confess. She would be my priest. She would know the reality of my true happiness - how I’d slept better the past few nights than I could remember. It would continue as I detailed the whistling I enjoyed on the way to the funeral home. She would listen intensely and tell me to light a candle and beg for forgiveness. Instead I gave the usual funeral nod and thanks. I turned away thinking the interaction was done, but she felt the need to explain.

“I’m Susan Allen. I worked with your dad. We bowled together and spent a lot of time in McGee’s.”, she said with a course laugh while patting my shoulder.

It was assumed that I knew about McGee’s, so I laughed. I surveyed the landscape looking for an exit. I saw my sister and excused myself.

I walked past everybody out the front door. The cold air slapped me in the face; I pulled my sport coat tightly, but it was little protection. I watched my breath stream from my mouth as a mangy dog walked across the parking lot. It was a small town with the funeral home located on a dead end street. The road was lined with slab homes. I counted the broken cars along with furniture on numerous porches. It was where dad belonged.

    

The day had been long and the claustrophobic with the family. I wanted the next two days to be over, but dad would not let me off that easy. He would make me suffer one last time, so I returned inside.

A large girl towered over the guest book. She seemed familiar, but I could not place her. I was dumbstruck as she turned and glanced in my direction, and then it hit me - it was dad’s daughter with Maryanne. I had not spoken to her in years, and no desire to start now. Thankfully, she shot a scornful look at me and turned away. Maybe she didn't recognize me, but I doubted it. I was surprised and relieved as she embraced my brother Joe. I headed downstairs to grab a sandwich.