Funeral with a View

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Funeral with a View Page 11

by Schiariti, Matt


  “Yeah, but now you’re an expert. Happy to help, Ricky. I’ll jump at any excuse to blow a day staring at diamonds.”

  “I just hope she says yes.”

  “She will, Rick.” For the first time that day, Jude’s expression turned serious. “I know my sister. She lights up when you’re together. It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Even at the mention of your name, she,” a shrug, “I don’t know. Glows? Frankly, it sickens me. Oh, don’t make that face. I’m just jerking your chain, wimp. But seriously. She’ll say yes. I guarantee it.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “Be my guest.”

  After a final hug and goodbye, I made my way to the car.

  “Oh, and Rick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember what I said. After the honeymoon. Or I’ll kill you.” She drew her finger across her throat, stuck out her tongue, and crossed her eyes.

  “I will, I promise.”

  ~~~

  “Glen? Glen!”

  “Coming, dear.”

  I stopped at my mom’s house later that night. As if that fact weren’t obvious.

  “Holy shit, Richard. This ring is gorgeous!” She wore the same look as Jude had earlier in the jewelry store. “Glen! Come take a look at what Richard bought. Where is that man? And as for you, Richard. Why hadn’t you told me about any of this?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. No reason, really. Things took on a life of their own once Rob gave me the jeweler’s card.”

  Glen ambled into the living room, scratching his halo of hair and inadvertently saving me from any more admonishment. “I was taking a dump, for Christ’s sake. What’s all the fuss about? What did Rick buy, and why are you always yelling?”

  Mom presented the ring, nestled in its black velvet box. “Look at this. Isn’t it spectacular?”

  Glen whistled. “Nice trinket. But I’m already taken.”

  “Very funny.” Mom swiped the box from him.

  Glen walked off and came back with a beer.

  “So, this is the one, eh, Rick?” he said, and took a pull of St. Pauli Girl.

  Mom rolled her eyes. “Of course this is the one, Glen. Why would he have bought her a ring otherwise? Right, sweetie?”

  “Right.” I set my bottle on an end table older than me. “She’s the one. Always has been. Sorry for not keeping you in the loop. It all happened kind of suddenly. It’s been on my mind for a long time now, and with everything going so well I decided to take the plunge. Nothing’s left but the asking and the answering. We’ll see what happens.”

  “She’ll say yes, Richard. How could she not?” She patted my knee. “When are you going to ask her?”

  “I promised Jude I’d wait until she and Rob get back from the honeymoon. Under threat of death.”

  “What about The Colonel?” Glen said.

  “What about him?”

  “You going to ask his permission?”

  Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. Did I have to? The very idea reeked of antiquity, but Colonel Maddox was nothing if not a traditionalist.

  “Do you think I should?” A finger neared my mouth. Mom tagged me with a pointed look. I drank some beer instead.

  Glen shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. From what Beth tells me he’s a bit … rigid.”

  “Glen makes a good point, Richard. You’re getting along now, but given your history it may be in your best interests to show him the courtesy of asking. Do you know if Rob approached him before proposing to Jude?”

  “I can’t say either way. It’s never come up. Shit.”

  Bad enough I had to come up with an interesting way to propose to Catherine—let’s face it, us guys have to conjure something profound and/or romantic—but now I had to ask her father for her hand in marriage? What was this, the 18th century?

  “You think about it, Baby Boy. In the end it’s your choice, but wouldn’t you rather know going in if her father approves or not? Not that there’s anything he can do about it, but I think it would be a show of respect and good faith.”

  I grunted, finished my beer. Their points were valid, whether I liked it or not.

  “In any case, just make sure you two get engaged soon. The sooner you’re married, the sooner you can start greasing the wheels of the Baby Making Machine.”

  “Mooommmmm …”

  Glen shook his head. “Just let it happen, Rick. Easier that way.”

  Is it any wonder I’d kept her out of the loop? Mom’s house. Gotta love it.

  CHAPTER 28

  Jude and Rob’s—correction: Mr. and Mrs. Curring’s—wedding bordered on pure spectacle; ornate floral arrangements, sculpted ice swans, string quartet. I shuddered to think how much the Maddoxes had spent.

  The ceremony had been gorgeous, the weather outstanding. In her flowing white gown, Jude stood out like a beacon lit from within. Rob was regal in his black tux and tails. The groomsmen also wore black, the bridesmaids in plumb. Catherine was a vision. Straps fell off her shoulders and exposed the perfect amount of creamy skin. The rich color accentuated her strawberry blond hair perfectly. While the wedding party looked fantastic, I only had eyes for Cat.

  Rob and Jude chose a sweethearts’ table for the reception. I was able to sit with my girlfriend, as well as Bill and his plus one: an athletic and shy blonde named Suzie. She seemed like a nice girl, but like most of Bill’s plus ones, I didn’t expect her to be around long. Cat and I discussed the over/under when they weren’t around. Still mean? Yes. Still fun? Absolutely.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Bill and I were perched at the bar. Dinner had ended and nearly the entire guest list was cutting some nasty rug to the perennial wedding favorite, ‘It’s Raining Men’, Maddoxes included. Get a couple drinks in him and The Colonel had some moves.

  “Completely, positively, absolutely, one hundred percent.” I sipped at my Jack on the rocks. “I think he’ll appreciate the sentiment. Can’t hurt, right?”

  “Nope. Can’t hurt at all. Unless he says no.” Bill had laughed when I’d brought up my plan to ask The Colonel’s permission for Catherine’s hand in marriage. Then he’d asked if I was crazy. “Have you thought of that? The crushing discomfort you’ll be forced to endure if he doesn’t give you his blessing and you go ahead and ask her anyway?”

  “Of course I have. How could I not? If he’s not happy with me proposing to Cat, that’s his problem. I’m asking her, yes or no, and that’s all there is to it.” I tilted my head back and the rest of my drink slid down my throat. “Anyway, I consider it a courtesy.”

  “Knowing The Colonel, he’ll consider it a shot across the bow.”

  “The Electric Slide” blared through the DJ’s thundering sound system. My back to the bar, I rested my elbows on top and watched the guests set themselves up for the infamous line dance. The Colonel said something to his wife, shook his head, and bowed out. I saw it as my chance to get him alone for a few minutes. I’d been waiting for the opportunity to do just that all night.

  “This is it, Bill. Herr Colonel’s taking a break. I best strike while the iron’s hot.” The bartender refilled my empty glass. “Look, I think he’s going out on the veranda to sneak a quick cigar. Wish me luck.”

  Bill saluted me with a raised beer. “Good luck, man. You’re gonna need it.”

  I took off after Catherine’s father.

  ~~~

  There he was.

  The Colonel stood in a far corner of the veranda outside the reception hall. As I suspected, he’d snuck out for a cigar. The lighter’s bright orange flame illuminated his face as he puffed on the tobacco. The April evening was pleasant, dusk giving way to night, and there was a slight chill in the air.

  I made my way over. I was sweating, and not from dancing. My pulse thundered in my ears and it was all I could do to keep my fingers away from my teeth.

  “I hate that damned Electric Slide,” The Colonel said, noticing my approach. A cloud of thick smoke wafted away on t
he breeze. “If it were up to me I’d have it outlawed.” He took a case from his breast pocket. “Cigar?”

  “Sure, thanks.” I never smoked the things, and I had a feeling Cat wouldn’t kiss me for the rest of the night, but I was behind enemy lines.

  “Hell of a spread, wouldn’t you say, son?” A flash of the lighter and my smoke was lit. “You’d shit yourself if I told you how much this is costing me, but my girls are worth it.” The veranda was dark with nothing but strings of white Christmas-type lights to fight off the gathering night, but as The Colonel inhaled and the tip of his cigar glowed, I could see his moustache tilted in a smile.

  “This is without a doubt the nicest wedding I’ve ever been to, Colonel. Hands down. The weather was great, the ceremony beautiful,” I didn’t mention I’d seen him crying after he presented the bride. That would have been stupid, “the bride is gorgeous, and this reception is crazy.”

  The elder Maddox chuckled, took another puff of cigar. Mine burned, unsmoked, between thumb and index finger.

  Now or never.

  “Um, now that I have you out here, there’s something I’d like to ask.”

  “That so?” Another wisp of smoke escaped his mouth.

  “Well, it’s about your daughter.”

  Puff. “Jude?”

  “No.” I fired back my drink, draining the contents in one gulp. “Cat.”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, I was wondering … I mean, I just wanted to ask … would it be okay—”

  “Damn, Rick. Just spit it out, will you? I’d like to get back to the wedding that I’ll more than likely spend the rest of my life paying off before it’s over.”

  “I wanted to ask you for Cat’s hand in marriage.” The sentence came out as one word with a dozen syllables.

  The Colonel’s eyes narrowed, his overlarge moustache twitched.

  Shit. He’s going to say no. Going to play hard ass and tell me I’m not good enough for his little Kit Cat. “Fuck off, kid.” Bill was right. This is a crazy idea.

  Then, out of the blue, something I couldn’t have predicted happened. The Colonel started laughing. Not a chuckle, not a snort. He laughed so hard he doubled over wheezing.

  “Are you kidding me?” he said in between gasps for air. “You’re actually asking me if you can marry my daughter?”

  I nodded like a moron.

  “Holy shit, Rick! I haven’t heard anything so ridiculous in my whole goddamn life!”

  “What the shit are you laughing at? I don’t see what’s so funny about me wanting to marry Cat.” I go out of my way to be courteous to this guy, to ask permission to marry his youngest daughter, and he laughs at me? Just when I thought he and I were in a good place, he laughs at me?

  “Oh get that puss off your face, son.” He slapped my back so hard I almost dropped my empty glass on the patio. “I’m not laughing at that. I’m laughing that you actually asked me.”

  “Huh?”

  “Rick,” he said around a mouthful of cigar, wiping a tear from his eye, “you know me a little bit by now, don’t you?”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “Do you think I’m that much of an asshole?”

  “Is this a trick question?”

  “C’mon, Rick. How old fashioned do you think I am?” His laughter stopped. “Wait a second. You thought there was a chance I’d say no?”

  “The thought had occurred to me.”

  “Shit, son.” His laughter resumed in earnest. I ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding another painful slap on the back. “You’re too much.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  He wiped at his eyes, laughter subsiding. “Look, Rick. I like you. I like you a lot. More importantly, my little girl loves your scrawny ass, unibrow and all.” His arm draped over my shoulders; a rare display of male bonding. “Of course you have my blessing, you twit.”

  “Say cheese!” There was blinding flash. “Aww, don’t you two look cute together. You may want to tell Mom about the ‘other man’, though, Dad.”

  “Jude, if it weren’t your wedding day I’d kick your ass.”

  “Yeah, yeah. C’mon you two. Get your butts back on that dance floor. Your significant others have been looking for you for the past ten minutes.” The radiant bride stomped her foot and pointed inside where music and laughter spilled from the open door.

  “Some battles can’t be won, Rick,” The Colonel said.

  “Nope. We can’t disappoint the bride on her wedding day.”

  The three of us made our way back to the dance floor. “Staying Alive” blasted from the speakers. Bill gave me a questioning look as we passed the bar. I answered with a double thumbs up. Grinning, Bill raised his glass in salute.

  I met up with Catherine on the dance floor. She was flushed and glowing with a fine mist of sweat. Totally sexy.

  “Hey, baby. Where’ve you been?” She wrinkled her nose and recoiled. “God, Rick. You stink of cigars.”

  “Sorry about that. Your dad made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “You? My dad? Smoking cigars?”

  Before I could answer, Jude grabbed our arms and dragged us to the center of a dance floor filled with people well on their way to inebriation.

  “Hey you two, less talking and more dancing! Ricky, you look entirely too stuffy. Here. Let me help.” Jude removed my tie and wrapped it around my head. “There. Much better,” she said, admiring her handiwork.

  We started to cut some rug ourselves. Things really got interesting when I reenacted the Ted Stryker dance scene from Airplane!. Jude and Catherine nearly peed themselves. Anything worth doing is worth doing right I always say.

  “Hold that pose.” The overzealous wedding photographer swooped in from out of nowhere and with yet another bright flash, a classic picture was captured: a sweaty man with a tie circling his head, flanked by two cross-eyed beauties.

  CHAPTER 29

  “So when are you going to pop the question, Richard?” My mother wore her usual large hat and sunglasses, and drank from a tall glass of iced tea. It was early May. Bill and I were helping her out with some much needed deck maintenance, a task usually falling under Glen’s umbrella, but a twisted back had rendered him useless … an injury that occurred in bed, according to my mother.

  “We were being a bit adventurous. Glen and I found a wonderful book in the Barnes and Noble. Have you ever heard of the Kama Sutra? At any rate, Glen was trying to get his legs up around my—”

  “Mom, really. I don’t need the details. A simple “Glen hurt his back, can you and Bill come over and do some work on the deck?” would have sufficed.” God love her, but her diarrhea of the mouth was sure to scar me for life.

  “I will never cease to wonder how I raised such a prude.”

  “Nobody’s perfect. I’ll see if Bill’s free Saturday.”

  Now, with the warm sun beating down on us, Bill and I worked to replace several deteriorated deck boards. It wasn’t long before Mom began to harp on me about my engagement plans. It took even less time for Bill to jump on the bandwagon.

  “Yeah, Rick,” Bill said over the whir of the electric drill. “When are you going to ask her to marry you? You’ve had that ring for an eternity. What’s wrong?” He flapped his arms as if they were wings, imitating everyone’s favorite fried bird. “Chicken?”

  “Less talking, more screwing,” I grunted.

  “Funny you should mention that, Richard.” Mom took a sip of tea and fanned herself. “I was thinking the same thing. Remember. Baby Making Machine?” She thrust her hips repeatedly. Bill laughed to the point he had to set down his drill.

  “Mom!”

  “I don’t know what you’re waiting for. You purchased that wonderful ring, got The Colonel’s permission—”

  “Who laughed in my face before giving said permission. Thank you so very much for that brilliant idea.”

  “—and Jude has been back from her honeymoon for a while now. Glen? Glen!”
/>   “Yes, dear.” He appeared behind the sliding glass doors. He couldn’t work but was more than happy to supervise. From the comfort of his rocking chair. With a fan on him. In the shade of the house.

  “Do you know what Richard is waiting for? Because I’m at a complete loss.”

  “No, dear.”

  “You see, Richard? No reason for you to be pussyfooting around like this. The longer you wait the more likely you’ll get cold feet. You aren’t getting cold feet, are you?”

  “Yeah, Ricky,” Bill said. He’d taken off his soaked shirt, exposing his muscular build. The two girls sunning themselves in the neighbor’s yard gawked and whistled. He waved and blew them a kiss. “You’re not getting cold feet are you, wussy boy? Beth wants you two to crank out a litter of ankle biters.”

  “You, shut your cake hole,” I said, pointing at him. “And you,” I aimed my finger at Mom, “stop breaking my balls. I already told you that I’ve been waiting until she was done with her MBA. Cat’s been working her ass off. The last thing she needed was a big distraction like that.” I wiped my forehead. “There’s plenty of time to get the Baby Making Machine rolling. I’ll ask her soon … after the graduation party.”

  “Ba-by ma-ker ba-by ma-ker.” Bill chanted the phrase like a college fight song. He thrust his hips, unaware the girls hadn’t stopped ogling him. His two newest fans hung on the fence. All the better to ensure the perfect gawking angle. It wasn’t until they started giggling that he noticed they were still there. With a smile, he flexed his biceps and said, “Hey ladies.”

  “Likeomygod! He is so hot,” said one.

  “Totally amazeballs hot,” said the other.

  Blushing, the two tittered and skipped back to their lounge chairs, lemonade, and Maroon 5.

  I sighed and shook my head. “Have you no shame? Those two are young enough to be your … shit. I don’t even know. Too young to be your anything.”

  “Lighten up. They’re at least freshmen.”

 

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