Case of the Great Danish

by Erik Schubach

  If you say anything, I will label your mouth shut.

  She scrunched her mouth over to one side, and I almost snorted. That seemed to be the trademark move of us May's, and I've noticed that Rebecca was picking up the habit too.

  Finally, she started with a brilliantly structured, impeccably thought out, and well articulated, “Fin.”

  I blurted out, “For sale?” I could hear the pleading in my question, begging her to tell me it was all a mistake.

  She took my hand and cocked her head at me, then reached up to tuck some hair behind my ear, making me feel like a kid again. Steel grey eyes which mirrored mine, flicked around my room and she explained, “I know this is the family home, but baby, I'm one person in a three bedroom house. And you and Gar have wanted me to move on for years now.”

  I blurted out like I were bargaining with her, “Move on, as in dating mom, not the literal sense of the term.”

  She smirked at that. I had the feeling she had anticipated every argument I could bring to bear. “Fin, it doesn't make sense for me to maintain this house alone. The only time it feels right is the weekends when you and your brother and the girls visit.”

  I whispered, so I wouldn't disturb the memories around us which didn't know their impending fate, “But... dad is here.”

  She nodded. “That too. There are too many ghosts here.” Then she brightened and pointed out, “I'll always have his broken-assed chair.”

  I almost snorted at that. The recliner was problematic at best. It looked great and was comfortable as hell, but the reclining mechanism was, to put it politely, all fucked up. Sooo, maybe not as politely as I let on.

  But seriously, if you pulled the lever, you had about a fifty-fifty chance of it eating you alive and the footrest falling off, or it semi-reclining like it is supposed to. Dad always said he'd fix it, but he never got a chance. He even named the beast Fangs.

  I love that chair.

  I blinked and tried a different tack. “Where will you go?”

  This made her brighten up and sit taller, straightening her blouse and tucking some hair behind her ear. It was an eerie pantomime of my nervous habits. Was this where I had picked them up?

  She beamed a smile at me as she shared, excitement tinging her tone, “I accepted a new job. It's a great opportunity, and it requires me to move.”

  The bottom fell out of my life, picturing mom moving to like Montana or some tiny town in South Dakota in the middle of nowhere. Someplace not serviced by a major airport. But just as quickly as the bile rising in my throat had appeared, it was gone when she added with enthusiasm, “New York City... Manhattan to be specific. I can be closer to my children and...” She brightened further, a new joy in her tone, “...and grandchildren.”

  At that, my heart beat faster. Mom was coming to live in the City? As devastating as losing the family home was, this was even more impactful. It would be like it was when I was in college, being able to call mom any time for lunch or drop by any night I was feeling particularly lonely.

  Mom was a jack of all trades, she had been a nursing assistant before dad got sick, then she took on a job with a marketing firm where she could work from home. That turned into a management position before she was poached by an internet visibility firm that helped businesses excel in their online marketing campaigns.

  She quit a couple years back when her mid-life lifestyle blog went viral. She's been living off of the advertising revenue from that as well as the money I sent home every month for her. She's been investing that in a high yield money market fund for her retirement. My mom got the brains and sense of adventure of the family. But it always felt to me like she wasn't living for herself until Gar and I finally flew the nest. It was like she was in an endless cycle of taking care of others and not herself. I've been amazed at how much she has done, how many crazy things she has tried since she has been an empty nester. And I was so proud of her.

  I wouldn't deny her happiness just to appease my own insecurities and selfishness. So instead of arguing, I asked, “How long?”

  She seemed to deflate in relief as she kissed my forehead and said excitedly, “I start January fifteenth. So I have to find a place in the city by then and hopefully have a buyer for the house.”

  She took both of my hands and made sure to make eye contact as she said, “I want you to go through your stuff and decide what you are keeping and what you want donated to charity. And... your father's stuff. Gar has already picked out some stuff he thought you'd want. I've already packed my memories of him and that god damned chair is coming with me.”

  Wait. Garrett had picked out some... “How long has Garrett known?”

  She exhaled and admitted, “He's know ever since I received the job offer last month.”

  Last month? The jerk has known for a month and not told me? He and I share everything. We have since we were kids, but now he's been hiding something this huge from me? As plans of revenge involving staplers and feral cats formed in my head, mom said, “Now Tempe, don't blame him. I made him promise not to tell you until I could find a good time to sit you down and talk about it.”

  They really thought I was going to take this badly, didn't they? Well fine, they were right. Right up to the point mom told me she was moving to the City. It was a weird mixture of sadness and excitement flowing through me. By all that was fluffy and sacred in the world, there was so much dust in my room. I started to stand to get the duster out of my nightstand, but my freakishly strong mom didn't let go of my hands, and she held me in place.

  She prompted with all the patience in the world, “You can clean later, Tempe. Will you be ok with all of this?”

  I sighed, was I really that bad? Don't answer that.

  “Mom, sure it is hard, but it is your life, and you don't need my permission to live it. You are the strongest woman I know, and I support anything you decide on doing. I love you, and I'm proud of you.” Then I said in a silly chirpy tone, “And my mommy is movin' to the big city.”

  She cocked an eyebrow reading the unsaid portion in the last sentence then sighed in defeat. “Yes baby girl, you can organize the move. Just... don't laminate the plans, please. Jessie told me what you put her through when she moved into your spare room.”

  I tried not to squee and clap my hands like a fool, this was so exciting. I've wanted to try out the new firmware I updated my labeler with which did barcodes. This was going to be the most organized move ever!

  She reached under the bed and pulled out a box I didn't recognize. She looked so... sad. I peeked in when she handed it to me. I saw some of dad's things in it, including... I held up the unused pipe. I could clearly see dad's face in memory with it, not the fuzzy half-remembered face I had tried to conjure lately.

  I closed the box, stood and exhaled shakily and smiled, trying to force away the blurry vision, not wanting to cry in front of mom.

  She offered encouragingly as she stood, “Let's get down for dinner. The turkey needs to come out of the oven.”

  I nodded, and we went downstairs, side by side. I noted that we had the same loping walk as we did. It was silent, and everyone was looking up the stairs until we came down, then they very unconvincingly pretended to continue stilted conversations. I groused at them all, “What? I'm not that bad!”

  They pretended to just notice us.

  “Not a good actor in the lot.”

  Mom staunchly agreed with a single nod. “Not a one of 'em.”

  This got some chuckles and Jane joined me and glanced at the box I held to my chest like it was made of solid gold.

  Mom pointed to the dining room and mommed out. “Sit, the whole lot of you.”

  The tribe obeyed, and I sat the box by my chair and followed mom into the kitchen to bring out the Christmas dinner. I somberly realized it was the last one we would have at the family home.

  Jess asked as we ate , having such a wonderful time as one big unorthodox family, “So Winnie, tell us about yo
ur new job.”

  Mom shared that it was to blog and write a column for a hot online senior lifestyle magazine that catered to the active and rebellious over fifty crowd who never got the memo to slow down and not be so adventurous. NYCtakeTwo.com has the largest subscriber base of any online senior living publication in America, and they wanted my mom!

  She was their target demographic with all the varied interests and hobbies she has, she was the perfect choice for the position. And now she'd be paid to join groups and clubs most of us never knew even existed. From the Silver Leapers, the over fifty Parkour club, or chainsaw ice carving in Central Park, to the Rolling Pin Mama's roller derby. She'd not just cover it all but do it all then write about the experience and generally mock the younger generation for not being able to keep up.

  Yeah... my mom isn't like other moms. But she's awesome, and she can cook.

  After dinner, I cleaned the dishes to clear my head while the others went into the living room to relax by the Christmas tree. They all knew better than to spoil my fun and try to help.

  Oh, shush, you have your quirks too, and you know it.

  By the time I joined everyone they all looked stuffed and content. Gar looked at mom. My poor brother forgot to grow up. Sure, he looked more and more like dad every day as we both rapidly approached thirty, but he was still a boy inside. She inclined her head as she sat back in the recliner, giving the permission of the matriarch of our clan, and he popped up from the couch like he was on springs and moved toward the tree.

  I greeted the dogs as they came to investigate me as I plopped beside Jane while Garrett handed out presents and stockings from the mantle.

  Rebecca was chuckling. “I swear, I don't know who's going to be the bigger kid, Gar or Alyx when she arrives.” She placed her hand on her stomach as she teased her unrepentant husband.

  I swallowed hard as my heart started beating faster. I didn't know if I was going to be able to do what I had planned later without passing out. This was going to be the biggest leap I have ever taken, even bigger than me leaving Liberty to live in the Big Apple. I was flush with the heat of excitement, and the chill of terror as we all opened our gifts and had such a good time.

  I placed a hand on Jane's when she picked up my gift to her, and I shook my head., instructing her, “Do that one last.”

  She nodded and picked up a huge box at my feet and moved it aside, saying, “Same to you short stuff.”

  Now I had to add dying of curiosity to the list of things that were about to kill me just then as I absently wondered what would be the death of me. We had some good laughs at some of the gag gifts and lots of hugs for the thoughtful gifts and... I blurted out as I swung an accusing finger toward the stairs without looking, “Don't you two dare!” Jess and Ker froze on the stairs, guilt, and blushes on their faces. Eww, the snots were trying to sneak off and do it in my bed! Mine was the only one upstairs, Gar's was now mom's workout room.

  They gave us cheesy grins as I pointed back at the winged chair and a half they had been taking turns sitting on each other's laps in. Kerry said, “Yes ma'am,” as she sat on the grinning redhead's lap.

  Then it was over. I had been gifted all sorts of pretty clothes and organizing supplies, including the new BXF Label Maker 5000, which I had already decide I was going to name Thor because it was so sexy. It had wireless connectivity to print labels from my computer and iPad as well.

  It all came down to my gift to Jane and hers to me. She looked a little insecure as I handed her the box and she inched the big one to me with her toe. Where had my infuriatingly self-confident New York City Police Detective gone? And why was I getting so light headed as she looked at the box in her hand? By the swishing tail and lolling tongue, I was going to pass out, wasn't I?

  I can do this, I can do this.

  I swallowed, and we both took a big breath, looking at each other as we unwrapped the gifts. Then we finally both looked down and froze. We must have looked quite comical with our jaws hanging open, looking between the boxes and each other. Then we broke and started cracking up laughing. I couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard, and she had slipped off the couch holding her belly as she laughed. I slipped down beside her, trying to catch my breath between giggle fits. The dogs, loving this new game, were all over us, licking excitedly with their wagging tails threatening to break the sound barrier.

  Mom huffed out in exasperation as she snatched the boxes from us, “What's so funny? What's...” She froze when she saw what was in the boxes, and I think her squee was causing all the glass in the house to seriously think about shattering when she saw the big empty box with an engagement ring tied to the bottom with a bow of delicate silk. Then the engagement ring I spent agonizing hours picking out for Jane to try to do the boldest thing I've ever done. Since my Jerk Cop didn't seem like she was ever going to ask me, I was going to ask her myself. It appears we had the same idea tonight.

  The others were all standing and moving close to see what was going on as Jane and I got our giggling under control. I froze when her chocolate brown eyes locked on mine. They were so dark it was always hard to tell where the pupil ended and the iris began, but just then I could see everything she was in those eyes as she shrugged and asked, “So? What do you say, Finnegan?”

  I just nodded frantically, tears falling as the others started celebrating. Kerry and Jessie said in unison, “It's about damn time!” Then also in unison, “Sorry, Winnie.”

  We stood, and they all clapped when we kissed, and boy did she kiss me, I mean, the passion almost pushed me over the edge. Can someone actually climax just from a kiss? I know I'm a believer now.

  Then mom cleared her throat, and we looked sheepishly up when we broke our kiss. She was holding out the two rings expectantly. We took them and then with a smile, slid them on each other's fingers, and then I girl-ed out. Squeeing, I gushed as I admired my hand, showing it to everyone, “I'm engaged!”

  Jane was shaking her head as she mock chastised herself, “What was I thinking? Falling in love with a trouble magnet.”

  I tapped her breastbone. “Hey, you're not the one who's stuck with an annoying jerk for a fiance.”

  She smiled and exhaled and then said with a surety I felt in my own conviction, “I love you, Finnegan Temperance May.”

  It was more than words, it was a pledge, and I returned that pledge, backed by the ferocity of my beating heart, “And I love you too, Jane Marie McLeary.”

  I felt a tear run down my cheek, then I smirked and pushed her back a little, “It's about time. I was getting close to taking Jess up on her three dozen marriage proposals.”

  Jess held her hands up in a placating gesture to both Jane and an amused Ker. “In my defense, it was always after she fed me her sinfully good home cooked meals.”

  Jane gave her a crooked smile as everyone chuckled and I blushed. “Taken.” She pointed at the gorgeous ring on my finger.

  I still had the smirk on my face as I said, “Weeeeell, let's look at the pros and cons of each offer. I could make a spreadsheet and...” I was cut off by another firm kiss that left my toes curling.

  I just draped against Jane in delicious surrender and giggled out to Jessie, “Sorry Mable, I'm taken.”

  Then we took turns showing off our rings. I stopped for a moment to marvel at just how in sync we were together. Now if I could just get her to stop arguing and being so aggravating all the time.

  Who am I kidding, I wouldn't change a hair on her head.

  Chapter 4 – Danish

  The next morning, I was purring like a kitten back home in our bed. Jane had said that night that she wanted me to know I was thoroughly and completely engaged. Yup. She succeeded in her mission. I smiled to myself and stretched to the tip of my toes. Calvin complained as my toes wiggled under his belly, where he laid on top of them on the blankets.

  “Hi, boy.”

  He cocked his head at me cutely, tongue lolling to the side as he gave a single
tail wag in greeting. I sat up, and the evil nest that was my bedhead hair flopped over my face. I scrunched my lips over and blew it out of my eyes. Why did Jane always wake up and just have to run her fingers through her hair to look like Glamour Cop version 1.0?

  She stepped out of our new master bathroom, drying her hair with a towel, wearing nothing but the oversized white tee I bought her that said 'You have the right to remain silent, so zip it!' She caught me appreciating the view and looked down almost coyly. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

  I sighed. Here it was, Christmas Day, and she was going into work. As she says, “There's no rest for the wicked, so there is no rest for those who bring them to justice.” She was sort of my hero. Don't tell her I said that or I won't tell you the rest of the story.

  It was odd to me, being a Monday and not having to walk my fuzzy clients. Holidays always throw me off my equilibrium, I never know what I'm supposed to do.

  I pointed at the circular staircase which spiraled down to the main floor of the apartment, which I owned, thank you very much. “You can at least wait for me to make you something to eat. A hungry Jane is a grumpy Jane. I swear I don't know how you didn't die of starvation before me.”

  She futilely tried explaining, “Fin, the reports are back from the...”

  I jabbed my finger at the staircase as she got dressed efficiently, being mean and not giving me a show since I was being demanding.

  She exhaled in exasperation and said as she zipped up her pants. “Fine.”

  I cocked an eyebrow in challenge. “Fine.”

  She gritted her teeth as she ran her fingers through her still damp hair, making her look like Trinity in the Matrix, and hissed out, “Fine!”

  We stared at each other, daring the other to look away first. Then she suddenly smiled and moved in to give me a peck on the cheek. “Ok, see ya downstairs, love.”

  Is it wrong that I love our arguments?

  I hopped up and got into the flannel cat pajamas that mom got me as a gag gift years ago and shuffled down the stairs, pushing some hair out of my mouth with my tongue. Cal shoved down the circular stairs past me, almost knocking me down... again. Don't ask.