by Lesley Crewe
“I need to get back to math class. We’re having a test.”
He smiled and waved that off. “I can talk to your teacher. There’s no reason for you to worry about that.”
“I’m looking forward to writing it. I’ve studied for it.”
He stopped smiling. “Have you cried yet, Bridie?”
“That’s personal, and none of your business.”
“Anger is one of the first emotions that we feel—”
I stood up. “Mr. Pruitt. I am neither angry nor sad. I am what you would call incredulous. I am processing this monumental event as best I can, and if I don’t seem to be doing it correctly, that’s just too damn bad. If I feel the need to lean on someone, I’ll decide that for myself. You will not be involved.”
I left him with his mouth open. The man really did remind me of a fat gopher.
The math test was easy. As I put my books away, I noticed a note under my scribbler. It said, “Feel better, my one true love.”
Smiling, I looked back at Eric. He blew me a kiss. I blew him one back.
Two weeks went by before Mavis felt strong enough to face the public. She also kept hoping that Pops would be found, but we couldn’t wait any longer. We had a memorial service at United Heritage Church on Charlotte Street. We never went there except for Christmas Eve service; we were heathens in this space.
The church was packed to the rafters, almost literally. Poor Gran just about fainted when she saw the crowd. I held onto her, and Mavis and Patty had their arms around each other. Uncle Donny, Aunt Loretta, Aunt Betty, and Uncle Fraser, along with their seven offspring, walked behind us up to the first pew. Mavis told Loretta and Betty to get their broods to sit in the pew behind us. It was like she was directing a Sunday school play. What difference did it make where they sat?
The only way I was going to get through this charade was to tune everyone out. I linked arms with Gran, and while she trembled in her mink coat and sniffed into the lace handkerchief Pops brought back for her from Paris, I had my head down, with my gloved hands on my lap.
Mavis, Patty, and Aunt Betty cried enough for all of us.
There was endless pontification from the clergy, who really didn’t know Pops, and then two of his doctor pals got up to regale us with hospital adventures, which made the crowd laugh. Unfortunately, Uncle Donny decided he should speak for the family, and he made it his mission to be funnier than the two doctors. He failed miserably. It was painfully awkward, and he peaked with: “I finally figured out why George went into gastroenterology. He was so good at giving people indigestion! Isn’t that right, Mavis?!” He realized he’d gone too far when he looked at Mavis’s face. Her lips had disappeared thanks to his performance. Just as I thought. Uncle Donny was dead meat.
He hurried from the pulpit.
Mercifully, the minister wrapped things up and then announced a tea would be served by the unflappable church ladies in the hall. I’d totally forgotten about that.
“Do you want me to take you home, Gran?”
“I could do with a cup of tea. I’d like to meet some of his friends.”
I was trapped.
One cup of tea led to a whole pot. Gran was at seated at the family table, and there was a lineup a mile long to get to her. This was important. She needed people to tell her how her wonderful son had changed their lives for the better.
There was a similar lineup to get to Mavis and Patty as well. I ended up carrying dishes back to the kitchen and filling teacups. Basically, my plan was to hang out with the lunch bunch and hide myself from the mob. But there’s always someone who doesn’t leave you alone.
Uncle Donny was talking with his mouth full when he saw me behind the counter. He waved me over and I ignored him, but no, he couldn’t take the hint. He walked into the kitchen, stuffing another sandwich in his mouth, and put his hands on my shoulders.
“I want to introduce you to some people. You can’t be in here. People want to see you.”
“I don’t want to be seen.”
“Nonsense.” He dragged me over to a group of three men and their wives. “Here she is! Our little beauty. This is Bridie. She’s special, all right. Look at this hair.” He squeezed me tightly against him.
“Take your hands off me.”
He laughed like he hadn’t heard me.
“Take your hands off me this second, before I slap you in front of these fine people.”
One of the ladies reached across and took my elbow. “I could use a little air. You?” She led me outside, just in time for me to puke my guts out over the church railing. She opened her purse and passed me some tissues. I gratefully took them and wiped up my mouth and chin as best I could.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s your uncle who needs to apologize. Does he always do that?”
I nodded. “He kissed me once on the mouth when I was nine. I didn’t know what it was.”
“Unfortunately, funny uncles litter the world. Next time, kick him where it hurts and threaten to call the police. That should stop him—he’s nothing if not a coward. He tried to corner me once at the hospital fundraiser. He has a horrible reputation among the women he works with. He’s a great surgeon but a lousy human being. I could never figure out how he and your dad were brothers.”
“I’ve always wondered that myself.”
“I’ll tell you a little story. I’m a nurse, and I was working the day your father came in with you in his arms.”
I felt my bottom lip quiver.
“I watched him come and visit you every day while you were in the incubator. When he was able, he’d take you out and lay you on his chest, cover you up, and rock you to sleep. All the nurses were in love with your dad because he was so darn cute, and the fact that he loved you to pieces made us drool. He’d sing and rub your tiny head and look so blissfully happy. We all thought you were the luckiest little girl in the world.”
It hit me then. My face crumpled and I reached out. She took me in her arms and let me cry into her nice dress. I’m not sure how long I was there, but she held me tight the whole time. I think Pops must have sent her to me.
After a while, people started to leave the church, so we moved to the side of the steps. She opened her purse again and took out more tissues, wiping my tears and her own.
“You sure carry a lot of Kleenex.”
“Old nursing habit. You never know when you’ll need it.”
“Thank you. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Laurel Beth.”
“I’ll never forget you.”
“Nor I you. Do you feel like going back inside?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to walk home. See ya.”
“See ya.”
14
Mavis gave me heck when she got back from the service. Patty and Ray had dropped her off and not come in.
“Your Gran was wondering where you were. It was your job to look after her. Loretta ended up taking her back with them, because I was in no fit state.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“You really should be more considerate, Bridie.”
“I’ll try.”
She took off her hat and threw it on the kitchen table. Then she shrugged out of her coat and let it fall to the floor. I picked it up and placed it over a chair.
“And that goddamned Donny made an ass of himself up there. What was he thinking? No boyhood stories or fun times with the family. I gave him all sorts of ideas to talk about and he used none of them. I would’ve done it myself, except I’m the grieving widow.”
She reached into the fridge and took out a bottle of wine, pouring herself a large glass, which she proceeded to drain and fill up again. “Where are my cigarettes?”
I left her to find them herself. It was only six o’clock, but I wa
s done. A hot bath was in order, to ease the tension in my body. I wanted to float and not think. Which is exactly what I was doing when Mavis barged right in my bathroom. I quickly covered myself under the water.
“What are you doing?”
She had the bottle of wine with her this time. Apparently, a glass wasn’t cutting it.
“I have no one to talk to.”
“Mavis, I’m taking a bath.”
She completely ignored me and sat on the toilet, a cigarette hanging from her lips. “I wanna ask you something,” she slurred. “I’m trying to figure it out, but I know nothing about fishing. Would it be a dumb idea to take a rowboat out on the water on a windy day?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you’re used to the water and boats and shit?”
“Yes.”
“So why would your dad take a boat out on a windy day?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
She nodded and took a drag of her cigarette, then put the bottle to her mouth and chugged until the wine was gone. She hiccupped. “That’s what I thought.”
She slammed the door on her way out.
Three days later, we headed to St. Peter’s for the second memorial for Pops. Mavis and Patty didn’t want to go.
“You have to. You told Gran you would.”
“I won’t know a soul there,” Patty complained. “I don’t care what any of them have to say.”
“It’s not about that, Patty. It’s about respect. We are Pops’s family and we have to stand by Gran.”
Mavis sighed. “Let’s just get it over with, Patty. Then we never have to go there again.”
The United church was just as full as the one in Sydney. Gran was quite emotional. Whereas she’d known no one at the first memorial, she knew everyone here. I put my arm around her as I led her up the aisle. She seemed to get smaller with each passing day.
She had asked me if I would say a few words about Pops, if I felt able to. The thought frightened me, but I didn’t want to let her down. We didn’t tell Mavis or Patty.
This service was vastly different in that the minister actually knew Pops. You could hear the affection for him in his voice. When he talked about Pops’s career in medicine and how he’d carried on the legacy of his father, who was revered in this neck of the woods, all of the congregation nodded and murmured, while some actually wept.
It made me proud.
And then the minister looked at me and motioned me up to the pulpit. Mavis and Patty and Uncle Donny looked confused. Just ignore them and breathe.
I walked up to the front and nodded to the choir, who looked sad, sympathetic, and encouraging at the same time. Then I faced the congregation. It seemed as though the entire town of St. Peter’s was there. All I wanted to do was run out the back door, but I glanced at Gran. She was waiting with a smile on her face. This was for her.
“Pops always took me fishing. He told me there was no finer water than river water. That it was always moving, breathing life and carrying momentum along its journey to the ocean. That sometimes it would slow and calmly gather in soft pools, where tranquil fish would hide under the rocks away from prying eyes. At other times, the gush and force created by strong winds and rain would create white foam as it gurgled and roared past.
“He told me life was like that, always changing, always fluid. Not to worry if bad weather comes, because the sun will emerge from behind the clouds before too long.
“A river was the only place Pops found peace. I know we wish he was here with us, but if he has to be somewhere else, I’m glad his final hours were spent on the water he so loved.”
When I got back to my seat, Gran rested her head on my shoulder. Even Mavis and Patty seemed pleased. Uncle Donny didn’t look at me.
Once again, lunch was served after the service and once again Gran, Mavis, and Patty were mobbed. So was I, with people saying how beautiful my words were, but I wasn’t interested in what they thought. I spent most of the time flitting from one spot to the next, darting away if I saw someone come towards me. If you pick up dirty dishes people think you’re with the women’s auxiliary, so I managed to avoid quite a few people that way.
At one point, Gran caught my eye and I went over to her.
“I forgot to take my pills. They’re in the glove compartment of the car. Could you go get them for me?”
“Sure.”
I put on my coat but didn’t button it and headed out to the parking lot. Cars were parked every which way, even on the church lawn. Someone would be annoyed about that. As I headed back, there was a woman standing by the hall door watching me approach. She must have followed me outside. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where. I gave her a quick nod and reached for the door handle.
“Excuse me.”
I stopped. She unnerved me somehow. Her face looked haunted. “Yes?”
“You’re George’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
Who was this person? “I’m sixteen.”
She swallowed and looked frightened. “What’s your name?”
“Bridie.”
The woman clasped the front of her coat and then pointed at my necklace. “Where did you get that?”
“It was my mother’s. Who are you?”
She went as white as a sheet and backed away from me.
“What’s wrong?”
“No. No. No. No. No.”
She turned around and ran.
What was that all about?
It bothered me to leave Gran in her house all alone. She told me she’d be fine and I wasn’t to worry. The others were waiting for me in the car, so I wrapped my arms around my grandmother. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“Oh, honey, take care of yourself. I’ll come down to see you very soon. I think we both need time alone to figure all this out.” She hugged me again and we parted.
Ray drove us back to Sydney with unseemly haste. Even Patty noticed it. “What’s the rush?”
“I’ve taken too much time off work as it is, with these memorial services every few days. I hope that’s the last of them.”
“What a rotten thing to say!” Patty shouted. “What if it was your dad?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Oh yes, he did. My like-meter went down a few notches for good old Sting Ray.
Mavis and I went home to a very quiet house. It was so quiet that Mavis started following me around like a puppy dog. I couldn’t get away from her.
The lawyer called a few days later and asked to see us about Pops’s will. I noticed Ray accompanied Patty to that meeting without complaint.
We sat in front of the man.
“The will is straightforward, and George named me executor.”
Ray raised his hand like a kid in school. “I thought a family member was supposed to be the executor?”
“In some cases. Others prefer to hand the task over to someone who has more experience with these things.”
In other words, Pops didn’t trust Mavis to get this right.
The lawyer continued. “Mavis gets the house, and all assets are divided three ways.”
Mavis frowned. “But Bridie is his ward. Not his real heir. Is she entitled to a share?” She looked at me. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
The lawyer smiled. “An individual can leave his estate to whomever he wishes. It is very clear that you, as his wife, have the bulk of the estate, as your home is worth a goodly amount. Since Bridie was raised as George’s daughter, he felt that despite never being adopted, she deserved a share of his assets along with Patty. Is there a problem?”
“But she’s not his blood.”
“That makes no difference, Mavis. We don’t live in the twelfth century.”
> “Well, I don’t think this is fair. Bridie was Eileen’s daughter, as they were always so eager to point out. George has given this child more than enough over the course of his lifetime. We don’t even know who she is, for God’s sake. This is very upsetting. It’s bad enough I have to struggle now that George is gone, and now I’m going to have to fight for what is rightfully Patty’s?”
“You are free to contest the will, Mavis. Just to warn you, it will cost time and money, and there’s no guarantee you will win.”
“How much are the assets worth?” Patty asked.
“Approximately $150,000. It was worth more, but George told me he was withdrawing a goodly sum in September of this year.”
Mavis and Patty exchanged glances before Patty spoke up. “So instead of getting $75,000 each, we’re stuck with $50,000 each?”
The lawyer nodded.
“I hope you’re satisfied.” Patty’s eyes watered as she looked at me. “If you have any decency at all, you’ll bow out gracefully.”
“I think it’s pretty clear what Pops wanted.”
Mavis blew her nose into a hanky. “You ungrateful child. All these years, I’ve raised you and let you live in my house. And this is how you repay me.”
The lawyer clearly found this scene distasteful. I should’ve warned him it was coming.
No one spoke to me on the way home. They dropped me off and continued on to Patty’s, I assume. No doubt to talk about me.
The phone rang. It was the lawyer.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Is there any way you can come back to the office? I’d like to speak to you privately.”
“Okay.”
I took a taxi. I really needed to learn how to drive. With Pops’s money, I could buy my own car and ferry Gran around.
Once again, I found myself sitting in front of the lawyer.
“Your father set up a joint bank account for Eileen O’Gorman and yourself when he took over as your guardian. It’s my duty as executor to collect all the assets of the estate, but this joint back account is not in the estate. Your father wanted it left that way, perhaps because he suspected what his wife’s reaction would be if she knew about it. I am under no obligation to tell her.”
