by J. P. Grider
“No thanks.”
“Where’s Norah?”
“School. She and Carter wanted to go.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “Too depressing here? I don’t know.”
He nodded and left. Two minutes later, Lorraine heard his bike come to a roaring start. Oh how she wished she were on the back of it right now. Better yet, she wished she could take it out on her own. She’d never felt anything like what she’d felt last night. The cold wind on her face, the smell of the pavement combined with the smell of the frozen woods, outriding her thoughts.
As Lorraine sipped her tea, the impending sorrow began to settle around her. It didn’t seem real yet—her mother dying—but she knew once it finally hit, she would be lost. She didn’t know if she’d ever come back from the devastation once it sank in. Her mother was her teacher, her confidant, her best friend—her hero. Though Lorraine was only six years old when she watched her father die on the floor in front of her, she could vividly remember her very pregnant mother taking charge of the whole scene. Tatum Blanchett Mattina Mack was an elementary school teacher, but she commanded respect and authority no matter who was in the room. The day Lorraine’s father died, Tatum stood tall and composed. No tears were shed by her mother that day. Even at the services, Lorraine could recall her mother comforting those who offered their condolences. “Oh, Gert,” Lorraine remembered her mother speaking to Lorraine’s father’s cousin. “I’m so sorry. I know how much Dominic meant to you.” Gertrude went on to explain how her cousin Dominic was her favorite cousin, and they were so close, and she didn’t know how she would live without him. Yeah, how she would live without him. How was Lorraine’s pregnant mother going to live without her husband? How would Lorraine live without her father? How would her new baby sibling live without him? Lorraine was six, but still, she’d thought these things. And she couldn’t understand why her mother didn’t say something along the lines of, “You’re worried about yourself right now?” But no, Lorraine’s mother was selfless and compassionate and thought nothing of putting someone else’s feelings before her own. Lorraine wasn’t like that. But, right now, she was hoping to imitate her mother’s strength and selflessness. But how could she do that if she let herself feel the imminent pain? How did her mother hide the hurt? Because even though Lorraine was six, she could see it in her mother’s eyes; her mother may have been easing the aches of her consolers, but no one was taking her mother’s suffering away. Yet, her mother smiled through it regardless. Now it was Lorraine’s turn to be the strong one—for Carter, for Norah. But could she? She was having her doubts.
The loud roar of the motorcycle once again invaded her thoughts. Noah. She didn’t know what to think of him or what part he’d play in all this. He’d most likely go back to his college life as if his sister’s life wasn’t just turned upside down. As if all their lives weren’t just shaken up like a broken snow globe, all its pieces floating aimlessly until they landed. The thing was, Lorraine thought, where would they all land?
“Hey.” Noah ambled back in and took a seat at the table. After digging into a brown deli bag, he pulled out a cup of coffee and two packages of Hostess orange cupcakes. “Want one?” he asked, holding up one of the packages.
Lorraine shrugged. She liked orange cupcakes. “Okay.”
Noah slid it across the table, tore open his package, and took a bite so big that half the cupcake was already gone.
“Hungry?”
With a full mouth and a groan, he mumbled, “Mmmm hmm,” and then chased it down with a gulp of coffee.
“So,” Lorraine started, figuring she’d better give him time to find something for his father to wear. “You think you can pick out a suit for your father to wear tomorrow?”
He put down the coffee he was about to sip again and looked at her. “What?”
“My grandmother would like you to pick out a suit. Y’know, for your dad. For the wake.” Lorraine ripped open her package of cupcakes.
“Jesus Christ. No. No, I’m not going to pick out a suit. You do it.”
“Me?” she asked, pausing as the cupcake reached her lips. “Why me?”
He gaped at her. “Why not?”
“Why not?” She put her cupcake down. “Because he’s not my father. He’s yours.”
Noah’s eyes rolled up, he shook his head, and closed his eyelids all at the same time. “I’ve seen him twice in two years. I hardly even talked to him. You want him to look nice, you do it. I’m not picking out a suit.”
Lorraine picked at the orange icing on her cupcake while she contemplated how to respond. “You know,” she said, after a few seconds, “whatever your problems were with Brick, I think you should put them aside for this weekend. This can’t be easy for your sister. I mean, Norah has become a sister to me, but Mimi, she doesn’t come visit much, so I’m sure Norah feels a little uncomfortable around her.” Lorraine paused when she saw Noah close his eyes and shake his head while he let out an exaggerated breath. “I’m serious. She needs you right now to step up and be her big brother. All I’ve seen so far is you being inconvenienced by being here. Grow up, Noah.”
“Gee, thanks, Rain. You put it all in perspective for me.” Noah slapped his forehead. “Picking out a suit will make it all better for Norah. Geez. Why didn’t I think about that?”
“Y’know, Noah. You’re an ass.”
“And you can bite it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Noah was back in his apartment thirty seconds after Lorraine spewed her nonsense. Be there for Norah. Why the hell did she think he was here? He wasn’t here for Brick, that’s for sure. Brick had sealed his fate in regards to Noah's heart a long time ago. He’d made his choice by not choosing Noah. So, Noah’d made his choice—to disassociate himself from his father.
However, Brick dying before the two had made peace with one another was never in the plan. It hadn't crossed Noah’s mind that he’d never be able to open his heart to his father again. He’d loved him so much once. Until he hated him just as equally.
Sitting on the couch in the center of the apartment, Noah looked around. Why the hell would Brick build this for him? Lorraine had to be mistaken. Brick made it clear—if Noah walked away that day, he’d never be welcome again. So, why in the world would he build him an apartment?
Noah rested his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. How did it all become such a mess?
***
Lorraine was in Brick’s closet when she heard her grandmother come through the front door. “How’d it go?” she asked after she barreled down the stairs to greet her. “Was it hard?”
“Rainy.” Her grandmother sighed on a smile. “It was really hard.”
Lorraine bit her lip and tried to smile, then reached for her grandmother and hugged her. “I’m sorry,” she said to Mimi. “I should have went with you. Probably that’s what Mom would have wanted.”
Her grandmother pulled away and looked her squarely in the eyes. “No, Rainy. She would not have wanted you to go down to the funeral home and pick out her casket.”
Lorraine dipped her head and shook off the chill that ran through her. Her casket. This was so real. Too real.
Mimi must have seen right through to Lorraine’s brain, because she pulled her granddaughter back into her arms, and while pressing a kiss to her forehead, she stroked Lorraine’s hair. There were no words of comfort, just her grandmother’s hug. But really, were there any words at a time like this?
The hug lasted several seconds, maybe several minutes, Lorraine wasn’t keeping time, before they heard the back door open and close. Mimi’s eyebrows lifted. Lorraine turned around.
“Noah,” she murmured.
“So, where are my father’s suits?” he asked quietly when he saw Lorraine and Mimi in the living room.
“Oh, Noah, Rainy asked you? Thank you so much. We asked Norah, but she, well, I understand how hard this is on her. And you, as well.” Mimi paused a moment, then said, “I just thought it’d be nice if o
ne of his kids picked out his outfit.”
Noah, standing with his hands deep in his front pockets, shrugged and eyed Lorraine.
Lorraine stared back, but she could feel her grandmother twisting her head from Lorraine to Noah and back.
On a sigh, Mimi said, “Lorraine can show you to their room. She’s more familiar with where Brick’s clothes are kept than I am.”
Great. Just what Lorraine wanted—to be alone with Noah again.
Noah nodded. Lorraine led the way up to Brick and Tatum’s room. “Sorry about before,” Noah said behind her.
An apology? Lorraine was not expecting that. “‘S okay. Sorry, too.”
Noah said nothing more, even as he searched through Brick’s closet. Lorraine sat on the bed in case Noah needed her, but after several minutes of silence, she started to feel silly. Why the heck would Noah need her to pick out his father’s clothes? At that thought, she got up and quietly walked out of the room, stopping only when she heard, “Lorraine,” come out of his mouth.
Peeking her head back into the room, she said, “Yeah?”
“Is this okay?” He was holding up a dark-gray single-breasted suit.
Lorraine nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice.”
He let out a soft grumble and laid it on the bed.
“He needs a shirt and tie.”
Noah shook his head and threw up his hands. “You think you can help with that? I have no idea what goes with it.”
Lorraine went right to Brick’s closet, did a quick once-over, and pulled out a pale green shirt and darker green tie. “This’ll look nice,” she said softly, laying them next to the suit and her mother’s outfit. “They’ll match.” She stood there staring at the clothes in front of her. Another anchor dropping into the reality waters.
“That’s it?” Noah hoped; Lorraine heard it in the way his voice turned up at the end.
She swiveled to look at him. “Yeah. I’ll get his shoes.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled and left the room.
Lorraine looked up past the ceiling, her eyes unfocused as she whispered, “Mom, if you can hear me, if you’re there at all, do you think your arms could reach long enough to hold me right now?” Lorraine dropped her head, turned around, and sat down on the floor. Leaning against the bed, she rested her head back on the mattress and closed her eyes. “Mama, please.”
Lorraine’s mother’s arms didn’t magically appear. And Lorraine wasn’t any less sad or overwhelmed, or lost. In fact, she felt no change at all. A small part of her actually believed she’d sense her mother’s arms in the form of some kind of feeling—like a warm blanket or a gentle tickle. But Lorraine felt nothing. Did this mean her mother wasn’t there? Was it childish to believe that her mother could comfort her from beyond? Was that just something that happened in movies? She let her eyes drift close, and the next thing she knew, Lorraine was uncurling herself from the fetal position on the floor. How long had she slept?
“Lorraine?” Norah said from the doorway. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” Lorraine got off the floor and shook it off. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Norah nodded; Lorraine followed her out the door. “How was school? Are you glad you went?”
Norah shrugged. “I couldn’t pay attention to anything, but—” Norah trailed off.
“Same here. I must have slept a really long time since you’re home already.”
“You probably needed it.”
Yeah. She probably did.
As the girls were walking down the stairs, Carter was walking up. “Hey, Carter. How’d it go today?” Lorraine asked.
Carter said nothing, continued to his room, and slammed the door.
“He got in a fight today,” Norah told Lorraine.
“Wait. What?”
“During lunch. He punched his friend in the face.”
“Oh my gosh, why?”
“He didn’t say. The whole ride home, he was quiet. Your gram picked us up, ‘cause, well, she was called to come get him. He’s suspended for three days.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I don’t think he’s handling this well.”
Lorraine shook her head. “No. Guess not.” But who was?
CHAPTER NINE
The morning of the wake was a sad one. Norah and her family were in the main part of the house getting ready, while Noah was in his apartment alone. He would have stayed in the main kitchen to have his coffee, since Mimi had made a pot, but the tension was so thick that he’d only taken one sip before he decided to take his mug next door.
He called Norah from his cell and asked her to join him.
Two small raps on the door and it opened.
“Nor.”
“No, what’s up?”
He patted the couch and said, “Sit. I haven’t gotten to even talk to you much since I got here. How are you doing with all this?”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
“Norah, you don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay to not be okay.”
“But I am okay, kind of. I’m sad. I don’t know.” His sister was almost a stranger, he thought. Why wouldn’t she be taking this harder? Shouldn’t she be in tears or something? Her mother died only four years ago, and now her father? How come she wasn’t breaking down? Something.
“Well, just know that I’m here. You know, if you want to cry or something.”
“What about you? You okay?”
“Pfft. Yeah, been here, done that.”
“Noah, that’s horrible. That’s so cold.”
Noah leaned back against the couch. “Norah. It is what it is. I haven’t seen Dad, in what, since the weekend he got married? And even then, I didn’t speak to him much. Yeah, it sucks, but I’m more worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because. You had a relationship with him. He was your father. It’s not easy losing a second parent when you’re a teenager.”
“Aren’t you a teenager?”
“Geez, Norah, stop. If you don’t care, I don’t care.”
Norah pushed off to the edge of the seat. “I care, Noah, my God, Daddy just died. Of course I care. Yes, I’m sad. But right now, I’m fine. I cried it out yesterday in the girls’ bathroom. I cried myself to sleep last night, and I’ll probably cry at the wake today. But right now, Noah, I’m fine. But I don’t think you are.”
Noah closed his eyes and thought about that for a moment. “You’re wrong. I’m fine,” he said when he opened his eyes and looked at her.
“You’re not. It’s not normal to feel nothing, No. I gotta go help Mimi.” Norah stood and took her brother’s hand. “It’s not normal, Noah. I love you.”
“Yeah. Love you, too.”
Noah finished off his coffee and took a shower. He was fine. Norah didn’t know what she was talking about. He’d been through this before. Four years ago. This was old hat.
After his shower, he dressed in his black jeans, his grey button-down, and his black boots. He didn’t think to stop for something more appropriate to wear on his way up to New Jersey, but, truthfully, he didn’t give it much thought afterward either. His normal attire would have to suffice. When he was dressed, he grabbed his leather coat and went into the main house.
Norah and Lorraine’s grandmother were setting the dining room table. “Noah,” the grandmother said. “You look nice, dear.”
“Thanks.”
“We’re setting things up for the time in-between. Some relatives will be coming back here for dinner, so, we’re just setting the plates out now. I’m having the food catered.”
“Ah.”
“Mimi said tomorrow we’re going to The Brownstone for the repast,” his sister added.
“‘Kay.”
Just then, Lorraine entered the room. Her black dress was simple, and her hair was tied up in a bun. She looked like a ballerina. Noah was so busy staring at her that he felt his face warm when Norah nudged him. “Oh,” he said, startled. “The Brownstone. Right.”
“What?” His sister’s forehead creas
ed. “You already responded to that.”
“Huh? Yeah. Right.” He turned on his heel and went back into the kitchen. What a knucklehead? She’s his stepsister for chrissake. He shook the coffee pot; it wasn’t empty, so he poured himself another cup. Shit. He felt a pang in his chest. No no no no. He wouldn’t let it return. He wouldn’t let it return.
“Aaaaah,” Lorraine yelled just before Noah heard the sound of glass crashing against something.
Running back into the dining room, Noah saw Lorraine crouched down on the floor and her grandmother running over to her.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Norah, can you get me a paper bag and, oh, good, Noah, the vacuum is in the closet behind the kitchen. Can you get it?” her grandmother instructed.
“Sure. sure,” they both said.
When Noah came back with the vacuum, he plugged it in and brought it over to Lorraine, who was hastily picking up the glass. “Uh, Lorraine, you do know you’re bleeding, right?”
She didn’t look up at Noah, nor did she stop what she was doing.
“You cut yourself?” Lorraine’s grandmother asked.
“I’m fine, Mimi.” Lorraine still wouldn’t stop throwing the big pieces of glass into the bag Norah brought her.
Noah knelt down in front of her and grabbed her wrist. “Stop. You’re bleeding.”
Lorraine yanked her hand from his and went back to the glass. “I’m fine.”
Her grandmother was suddenly standing over Lorraine with a wet washcloth in her hand. “Rainy, come on, you’re getting blood on the rug, at least cover it.”
Lorraine took the cloth, wrapped it around her hand, and finally looked up. Her hazel eyes were hidden behind a mess of tears, her mascara smudged beneath her eyes. Noah couldn’t stop looking at her. Those pains in his chest started coming back. He couldn’t let this happen. Noah stood up and went back into the kitchen, afraid to let his heart bleed in front of anybody. What the hell? No. No. He would not breakdown. He was done with emotions. No. He searched the cabinets, opening one door after another until he found what he was looking for—a bottle of alcohol. Blackberry Brandy would have to do.
