My Mom's A Mortician

by Patricia Wiles

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marcy came home from school early Friday morning, the day before Valentine’s Day. I ran up the steps of her apartment and gave her a hug.

  “Hey Kev!” Marcy hugged me back. “How’s Mr. and Mrs. K?”

  “Everything’s OK, but it’s sure been quiet here without you. You wanna play cards tonight?”

  “I may not be able to. It depends on if I hear from Marshall today and if he has any plans. But I’m sure I can find time this weekend to beat you at a game. Did you do your workouts while I was gone?”

  I stood up a little straighter. “Of course,” I said, and flexed my biceps. “I’ve got to keep up my manly physique.”

  Marcy gave me a playful shove. “Get out of here, squirt, or you’re gonna be late for school.”

  This was going to be a great day, I could tell. It started with my first entry in Volume VI, where, thanks to a fresh inch of snow, I’d recorded my best animal sightings for the year so far—two robins, a red cardinal, one raccoon, and a set of deer tracks that led back to the woods. We had a funeral that afternoon, but none scheduled for the next day. Marcy was home, and in just an hour or so I’d see Dani. And tomorrow would be Valentine’s Day.

  At school, I received the ultimate stroke of good luck—Stiller was absent. Dani was still mad about our little misunderstanding, so she was cold during first hour. But I was confident I could soften her up.

  At lunch, I slid into our booth as usual. “Hey Dani. What’s up?”

  She chewed her fish stick and didn’t answer. I took a sandwich and bottle of juice out of my sack and placed them in front of me. Then I unwrapped my apple and set the bigger half on her plate. She picked it up and examined it, then shrugged and set it back down.

  I ignored her casual attitude toward my gift of goodwill. “Got any plans for lunch tomorrow?”

  She still didn’t answer, but I saw the pink begin to creep up her cheeks, and I knew I had her. I pressed on. “Dad’s taking Mom to the Cow Palace tomorrow and he asked me if I wanted to go and invite someone. So I’m inviting you. How about it?”

  Her long brown hair, which she’d tossed over her shoulders, fell down again, covering the sides of her face. She peeked at me from under her bangs and I saw just a glimmer of metal between her lips. “Sure. How about if my mom just drops me off at the home?”

  “Great. Come over about noon.” I smiled at her and she smiled back, this time with a real Dani smile. We didn’t talk anymore during lunch, but I walked with her to our next class, and when I left her at her desk, she gave my arm a little squeeze. My feet didn’t touch the floor the rest of the day.

  Marcy picked me up after school. As soon as I got in her VW, I knew she was going out with Marshall. She always looked immaculate, even in sweats. But today she was especially pretty in a foamy green cashmere sweater and black leather slacks. Someone like her should have been riding in a limo, not shifting gears in a rusty old Beetle. I asked where she was going.

  Marcy tried to give me the evil eye but giggled when I batted my eyelashes at her. “I was gonna say it’s none of your business, but since you’ll bug me ’til I answer, I’ll tell you. We’re going to Memphis to meet Marshall’s mother and grandmother, and then tonight he’s got tickets to take us all to the Memphis Orchestra. Afterward we’ll spend the night at his mother’s house, and we’ll drive back to Armadillo tomorrow. What big plans do you have for your sweetie?”

  My face burned. “She’s not my sweetie. She’s just a good friend. Actually, she’s the only friend I have.”

  The traffic signal ahead of us turned yellow. Marcy slowed to a stop. “Hey,” Marcy said, “I’m your friend too.”

  “You can’t be my friend. You’re my sister.”

  Marcy looked at me. I smiled. I couldn’t believe what I’d just said, but I’d been feeling it, and I guess it was time for it to come out. I’d said it like it was the most natural thing in the world—but it had to be, because I felt so good inside now that I’d said it. I did feel like Marcy was my sister. It made Marcy feel good too, I could tell. At first she didn’t answer. Then her eyes went soft, and she smiled back with a sweet, loving kind of smile. Then she whacked me in the back of the head.

  “That’s the way it goes with the chicks, little brother. I may need to keep an eye on this Dani person. ’Cuz first, you’re friends, then before you know it—chomp! The love bug takes a big bite out of you. Just watch it in case she tries to spit you back out!”

  Marshall drove Marcy to Memphis in Dad’s S-10. So the next day Dani and I sat in the back seat of Marshall’s red Honda and Dad took us all to the Cow Palace for lunch. We sat in Mom’s favorite booth—the one overlooking the pasture—and Dad ordered the Sweethearts Special: a giant chopped steak in the shape of a heart served on a large platter with two baked potatoes, two Caesar salads, and two cloverleaf rolls. I had my usual quarter-pound Cow Pattie with fries. Dani got the special Love Me Chicken Tenders basket that came with a bowl of heart-shaped gelatin salad. As we waited for our orders, Dad slipped a brightly wrapped box out from under his coat and handed it to Mom.

  “This is for my best friend,” he said. He rubbed the dimple in Mom’s chin with his index finger and kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Oh Arlice,” she said, smoothing an invisible wisp of thinning hair behind his ear, “you’re so swell.”

  Swell? Only my mother would say something totally stupid like that. I ducked my head to hide my smirk. Dani’s head was ducked too, her hand over her mouth, stifling her giggles. She looked so cute. My parents had no idea we were laughing at them.

  Mom ripped the paper, and her lips formed into a large O. “Oh Arlice, how did you know?”

  Mom and Dad were too caught up in the moment to hear me snort, but Dani sure heard me because she kicked me in the leg really hard to make me shut up. But I couldn’t help it. Who else but my mom would get excited about The Three Stooges Video Collection? You’d think Dad had given her tickets for a Caribbean cruise. She hopped up and down in the booth and flung her arms around Dad’s neck. “You are so sweet! You always buy me the best presents!”

  The waitress brought our plates, interrupting the lovefest. I was glad Dani and I ordered our own meals. The Sweetheart Special, as I said, came on one big platter—which meant my lovebird parents were supposed to share. Although I liked Dani, I still preferred to keep our germs separate.

  I had a gift for Dani, but I wanted to wait for the right moment to give it to her. After lunch we went back to the home and played two killer games of Monopoly. Mom and Dad played the first game with us. Dani and I played the second one alone. She beat me both times.

  At dusk we sat out in the back lot together so she could help me put that night’s entry in Volume VI. We hadn’t been outside long before the clouds began to thicken, which helped the darkness to fall faster than usual. I figured I’d better not wait much longer. I pulled the flat package out of my coat.

  “Dani, this is for you,” I said, and handed it to her.

  I got the reaction I’d hoped for—another big smile. Dani tore the paper carefully.

  “Oh Kevin.” She brushed her mittened hand across the soft leather journal cover. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Open it.”

  She read aloud the short message I’d written inside:

  TO DANI—

  Thank you for being my best friend.

  Kevin

  She gave me a quick, awkward hug. One of her tears, cooled by the February air, lingered on my cheek.

  “I want to tell you something,” Dani said. “But I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

  “Sure.” What I really wanted to say was, “How could I ever be mad at a girl as beautiful as you?”

  “Well, you know Daddy’s the branch president at our church, and it’s hard sometimes not to overhear things—”

  I could hear her speak, but I was paying more attention to the pupils of her eyes as they widened in the dim light.

  “
I don’t want you to think I’m being your friend just because I’m trying to get you to come to church, or to help your parents come back to church.”

  “You know about my parents being Mormons?”

  Dani nodded. “The correct name is Latter-day Saints. And yes, I overheard Mom and Dad talking one night—something about your parents losing a baby right after they were baptized. Your mom told my dad about it. Oh Kevin, it sounds so sad. But then I started thinking, what if Kevin thinks I’m only being nice to him because I want him to come to church? I would want to be your friend, no matter what.”

  Dani’s confession was so sincere, and the look on her face so earnest, that I was glad she knew about my family. I put my gloved hand over her mittened one and squeezed it tight.

  We sat for a long time without speaking, then she said, “Kevin, promise me something.”

  “What?” I would have bungee jumped off the Mississippi River Bridge if she’d asked me to.

  She gazed out beyond the trees, to where the purple sky deepened into black. “There’s no good reason for you to fight Chuck. The only reason you want to is pride. You don’t want people to think you’re afraid of him. But that’s no reason. I’m not saying don’t defend yourself if he hits you, but fighting because he embarrasses you isn’t right. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, especially me.”

  Then our eyes met, and for a split second the clouds parted just enough for the moon to shine through. The light transformed Dani’s perfect brown irises into pure gold. “Please promise me.”

  I sat there, stunned and speechless, and let her voice wash over me. “Promise me, Kevin, you won’t fight Chuck Stiller unless he’s trying to hurt you.”

  A slight gust of wind nudged the clouds back over the moon, but now Dani shimmered as if she had swallowed it whole. At that moment, I knew there wasn’t anyone or anything more beautiful than Danielle Angeline Carter. A spark ignited in my chest that blazed into a fireball. It was cold enough outside to see your breath, but I was sweating so bad that I knew steam had to be coming off my forehead. I’d seen TV documentaries about spontaneous human combustion, and now I believed it was true. I knew any second I’d burst into flames from the neck down, leaving nothing behind but my arms, legs, a charred coat, and my head with a dumb expression on my face.

  And I wanted to kiss her. More than anything, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. I wanted to lean over and kiss Danielle Angeline Carter right in the center of her soft pink lips.

  But I didn’t. I just sat there, my mind numb from the rush of emotion. “OK. Whatever you want.”

  “Kevin, listen to me.” Dani shook my arm, trying to get my attention. “I mean it, Kevin. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Her words snapped me out of the love-spell. She thought I’d get hurt? Was she saying I couldn’t take care of myself? “What do you mean, get hurt? Do you think I’m a wimp or something?”

  Dani crossed her arms and turned away. “See, that’s just what I’m talking about. You’re worried about what others think, not if you’re doing the right thing.” She stood up, and I realized the temperature outside was still thirty-two degrees. “Just remember, Kevin, that what matters is how you feel about what you’ve done, not how other people feel about it. If you look back and wish you’d done something different, there won’t be any good excuse for you. You’ll never be able to change the fact that you caved in to Stiller instead of standing on higher ground.” She got up and headed back to the home.

  I jumped up and ran after her. I knew she was right. I had no doubt. I’d known all along that fighting Stiller wouldn’t solve anything. It would only give me something to brag about. I’d be hurting him for my own gain, as a warning to others that I couldn’t be pushed around.

  I thought about the worm in my pocket. I hadn’t been able to put it into words before, and now Dani had done it for me without even knowing it. If I looked back and wished I’d done something different, I wouldn’t have a good excuse. That’s why Mom talked Dad into buying the Paramount. Why Cletus McCulley stuck with his buddies in the war, and by his wife when she was sick. And why Marshall would give anything to go back and change what he’d done as a teenager. I reached in my pocket. The worm was still there. I caught up to Dani as she entered the garden outside the guest kitchen. I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

  “Dani, I promise you I won’t fight Chuck Stiller.” I looked at her with more sincerity than I’d ever looked at anyone. “And I mean it.”

  My chest began to burn again. My face moved in slow motion, closer and closer to hers. My hands slipped around her waist, and her arms floated onto my shoulders. Just as I started to close my eyes, Dani’s words echoed again in my mind: If you look back and wish you’d done something different, you won’t have a good excuse. And for reasons I still don’t understand, at the last second I turned my face so that my lips, instead of meeting hers, brushed against her soft cheek.

  Dani giggled, sounding oddly like my mother. “Oh Kevin,” she said, drawing me close for a hug. “You’re the best!”

  Suddenly, there was a loud crash in the guest kitchen. Dani and I squatted behind the holly bushes and sneaked a look through the French doors. Marcy and Marshall were having an argument. They wandered around the room. Marcy was in the lead, flailing her arms and yelling at the top of her lungs while Marshall tagged behind. He wiped his forehead with his right hand as he used his other hand to place what looked like a small jewelry box on the table.

  We slipped around to the front entrance, down the hall, and stood to the side of the slightly open kitchen door. We couldn’t figure out what they were fighting about, but they sure were mad.

  “We never agree on this, Marshall,” Marcy yelled, “never, ever!”

  “Who says we have to agree?” Marshall yelled back. “Just because you say so doesn’t make it right! Can’t we politely agree to disagree?”

  Dani looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. This made no sense at all.

  Marcy moved to the center of the kitchen and began pacing back and forth, her hands on her hips. “I don’t understand you, Marshall Cartwright. I just don’t understand you.”

  “I thought I understood you, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe all this time I’ve been wrong about us, too.” Marshall put on his coat. “I love you, Marcy, more that anyone I’ve ever known. I thought that, I mean I hoped that, you would learn to feel the same way about me. But maybe I’ve been wrong about that, too.”

  He stepped toward the French doors leading out to the garden, and turned to her as if it were the last time he’d ever see her again.

  “I’m so sorry, Marcy. Sorry for everything. I’ll always love you, but if I make you this miserable, I won’t stay around any longer.”

  He left. The lock clicked shut. Marcy’s bottom lip quivered.

  “Ohmigosh,” Dani whispered. “I think Marshall just proposed to Marcy.”

  Marcy stroked her finger across the top of the black velvet box on the table. Then she picked it up and opened it.

  “Oh Kevin, it’s an engagement ring!” Dani squeaked, her hands over her heart. “He must have spent a fortune on it. I can see the diamond from here.”

  Then Marcy started bawling. She stomped her feet. Was she throwing a tantrum? Although I’d never been all that nice to Marshall, I did feel sorrier for him at that moment than I did Marcy. After all, it took a lot of nerve on his part to ask someone as pigheaded as Marcy to be his wife.

  Then all at once Marcy stopped crying. Her body snapped to attention. Her eyes grew round and wide, and she clapped her hands over her mouth like she was trying to keep from losing her last breath. She charged toward the door and raced out, passing Dani and me without even seeing us. We followed her out the front entrance. She ran in her bare feet down the slushy sidewalk to the side parking lot. Marshall was just a few steps away from his car.

  “Marshall, wait!” Marcy screamed. “Don’t go!”

  She p
ounced on Marshall and, grabbing his face in her hands, kissed him on his chin, cheeks, and forehead. It was hard to tell whether she was laughing or crying. “Don’t go, Marshall. I love you. I know I do. I’ve just been too scared to admit it. Oh Marshall, I do love you.” She dropped down on one knee and held his hand against her tear-covered cheek. “Marshall Cartwright, please marry me. Will you? Will you marry me?”

  Marshall wiped his eyes with his free hand. “You always think you have to have the last word,” he said. “But guess what? This time I get to say it. Yes. Yes, Marcy, more than anything in the world, I want to marry you.”

  Marcy stood up, and Marshall held her close. As he kissed her—one of those long, passionate, soap opera kisses—the tiniest, most delicate flakes of snow began to fall. And Marshall lifted Marcy up so her bare feet wouldn’t have to touch the cold, damp ground.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marcy picked April 4 as her wedding day, mainly because she wanted to get it over with before her final exams in May. But she also wanted to get married in Mom’s garden when the spring flowers were in bloom.

  So Mom was right—it looked like we were going to host a wedding. A year ago, I would have thought that was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard of. But now it not only seemed right, it felt as normal as if we were hosting it in the backyard of our old house. Had my idea of normal changed that much in just a year? Maybe it wasn’t the idea of normal that was different now, but the idea of what I believed home to be.

  The weeks leading up to the big day were hectic. Every day we had either a visitation or a funeral. At school, the seventh-grade class had standardized testing, so we spent two full weeks filling in the bubbles on computer answer sheets with our #2 pencils. Plus we had field trips and end-of-term projects. The only reason I survived at all was because I had the wedding and spring break to look forward to.

  Though I was busy, my life was better than ever. There were two reasons for that. One was Dani. After Valentine’s Day, my feelings for her changed a lot. We’d developed a deeper kind of friendship, even though we never got mushy about it. I didn’t try to kiss her again, and I think she appreciated that. I’d always thought girls wanted to be kissed, but I don’t think Dani did. I knew she liked me, but I think she felt like I respected her feelings, which meant more to her than if I’d told her she was pretty all the time. Dani was a no-nonsense, cerebral kind of girl. She wasn’t an airhead or flirty. Our personalities were perfectly matched.