Funeral with a View (8 page)

Butch chased a butterfly
out in the yard while the rest of us sat frozen in our seats. The drama mesmerized
me. Whatever expectations I’d had, they were nothing compared to this.

Mary Jo faced her eldest.

“Jude, please don’t
misunderstand. Your father and I had discussed getting married eventually.”

“Oh, this is rich.” Jude
laughed and smacked her knee. “This is
classic
. Taking all this in,
Rick? There may be a quiz afterward.”

I help up my hands. “I’m
just an innocent bystander.”

“Are you saying I’m illegitimate?
Is that what you’re trying to tell me here, Mom? Dad? That you got married
because you had to? Not because you wanted to? Because of me?”

“That’s not what I’m
saying at all,” Mary Jo sighed. “We were married before you were born. You
didn’t quite come into the world nine months after the wedding, that’s all. You
weren’t premature, even though that’s what we told people.” She patted Jude’s
knee. “Your dad and I were in love, still are. Things were just expedited a smidge.”

“You sure he’s my real
dad? Kidding! I’m kidding. Honestly, this doesn’t bother me that much. Kind of
shitty you couldn’t follow your dream, though.”

Mary Jo smiled. “The hell
with that silly contest. Who needs tiaras and parades when you can change
diapers at three in the morning and breastfeed until your nipples hurt?”

Jude’s lower lip
protruded. “Hilarious.”

“I’m only teasing, Jude.
Life has a funny way of giving what you want, even when you haven’t realized
it’s what you wanted in the first place.”

With a billowing sigh,
The Colonel stood. “Well, that calls for another beer or three. What d’you say,
Rick? You with me?”

Stunned, I nodded
stupidly, and he shambled off to retrieve our liquid courage.

“So why is Dad giving
Rick such a hard time?” Catherine’s voice had a slight sting to it. “He’s
always
been overly protective of Jude and me—not that it worked—but after hearing
all that, I’d have thought he’d be a little more sympathetic.”

“Because your mom was
devastated, that’s why.” Cat’s father handed me my beer and took a swig of his
own as he sat down. “She had this huge dream to be Miss America and I swung in
and muffed it up.”

Mary Jo’s expression
turned distant. “When you’re that age, the world is a fragile thing. If you
don’t get something you have your heart set on, it feels like everything will
end. Of course I was upset at first, but not keeping the child was never an
option. I was going to have you, Jude, come Hell or high water. Your father
proposed. I said yes, and I don’t regret it one single bit.”

“I don’t want to see your
plans get derailed, Kit Cat,” The Colonel said. “Your mom took it so hard. I
never want to see you that way.”

“So you’re not mad?”
Catherine said.

“Of course I’m mad.”

“But you don’t hate
Rick.”

“I hate the situation,
not Rick. How can I hate the kid? I barely know him. Shit, I’m not that bad, am
I?”

Jude snorted. Mary Jo
cuffed her on the back of the head. Jude squealed. Either The Colonel didn’t
notice or was too used to their behavior to care, because he ignored the entire
exchange.

The Maddox patriarch set
his elbows on the picnic table. “Look, Cat. I’m not living under a rock. I know
how things are. No, I’m not happy you’re pregnant, and no, I’m not happy you’re
not married. But it’s what we’ve got, so we work with it.”

The Colonel turned to me.
Attempting to act as the mature, responsible adult I knew I wasn’t, I fought
the urge to slink down in my seat and stick my fingers in my mouth.

“You seem like a good
kid, Rick,” he said. “Cat wouldn’t be with you if you weren’t worth being with.
My daughters don’t settle for second best for very long. It’s obvious to me
this is more than just a one-night stand. You could have run away, but you
didn’t. And I’ll give it to you, you’ve got balls the size of the
Titanic,
dressing me down in my own study like you did.” I saw the twitch of facial hair.
“I respect the shit out of that, especially when it comes to anybody wanting to
date my Kit Cat. There’s no way you’d have done that unless you plan on
sticking around. You do plan on sticking around, don’t you?”

“Colonel, I’m not going
anywhere. I’m sorry about this, honest to God I am. I never meant to put your
daughter or your family in this position. But I’m sticking around. I may be
young … I may be stupid enough to think I know everything when I really don’t
know jack squat, but there’s one thing I do know. I love your daughter.” I took
Cat’s hand in mine. “And I have it on pretty good authority she loves me, too.
Baby or not, I have no intention of leaving her. Ever.”

“So … that true, Cat? You
love this clown?”

She nodded and squeezed
my hand. “Yes. I do.”

“That’s all that matters
then,” said Mary Jo. “Everything else will work itself out.”

Jude sniffed. “This is
all so touching.” She wiped away a phantom tear with movie star proficiency.

“You’re such a bitch,
Jude!” Catherine balled up a napkin and tossed it Jude’s way. The sisters burst
out laughing.

Butch broke off his high
speed pursuit of some indeterminate insect menace, woofed, and trotted over.

“Are they always like
this?” I said.

A laughing Mary Jo
nodded.

The Colonel shook his
head. “Yes they are. Son, pray you never have daughters.”

He ducked away from the
hail of wadded napkins suddenly headed his way.

~~~

The rest of the evening had
turned out to be rather pleasant, all things considered. It was Catherine’s
turn to withstand the barrage of embarrassing childhood stories. Ah, sweet
revenge. My favorite? The time when The Colonel had come in from the yard to
find that his beloved two-year-old Kit Cat had finger-painted the dining room
walls a lovely shade of VanPoop Brown. Eat your heart out, Bob Ross.

We had a few minutes to
ourselves before we left the Maddox compound for the night. Catherine gave me a
tour of the rest of the house and we ended up in her old room, leafing through
photo albums. It felt like stepping into a time machine. Her parents kept the
room the same as when she’d lived there, and it was eerie, in a fascinating way,
to drink in a time when I didn’t know her and she didn’t know me. If I could
have gone back and observed every one of her waking moments leading up to the
time we’d met I would have been all for it, so thirsty was I to know every
minute detail of her life.

An old yearbook lay open
on the bed.

“Glee club?” I laughed
and pointed to a picture of her posed with others who most likely couldn’t sing
to save their lives.

She elbowed me in the
ribs. “Be nice. I wasn’t half bad on stage I’ll have you know.”

“You’ll have to prove it
to me. I demand a haunting rendition of ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’.

“You’re a dick.”

“I know, but I’m—”

“—your my dick. Yeah,
yeah.”

“You have a great family,
Cat. I wish we’d done this sooner, even if your dad does come from the Boris
Karloff School of Scary Shit.”

“I was so nervous when
you two disappeared.” She closed the yearbook and set it aside. “When you came
back I thought it was going to be the start of World War III.”

“It almost was.”

“But you won him over, Ricky.
You exposed his gooey center, which is nothing short of a miracle. He loved
that you didn’t roll over and play dead. I could tell. Most of the guys Jude
and I tried to date over the years ran off shitting their pants within the
first five minutes. Not you, though. He’s tough but not impossible. He’ll make
the best of it. Just like us.”

“I have another
advantage.” I leaned in and kissed her. “We love each other.”

“That we do.”

“Your mom’s not what I
expected. I thought she’d be more of a stick in the mud.”

“You and me both. She
sure surprised me with that story about my sister.”

“The one about her
getting caught shop lifting at Marketfair?”

“No, dork. That’s no
surprise. Who do you think she was stealing that Richard Marx CD for, anyway?
You know which one I’m talking about. Never would have seen that coming in a
million years.”

“It has indeed been a day
of revelation.”

A lock of hair had settled
against her cheek. I moved it aside, leaned in, and …

“Are you guys making out
up there?”

“No, Jude,” Cat yelled.
“We’re not!”

“Your sister’s a bit of a
trouble maker, isn’t she?” I asked.

“Ugh, you have no idea.”

“I like her.”

“You would. Could be
worse. She hasn’t forced me to kill her yet. Come on,” she said, getting off
the bed. “Let’s go downstairs before she really starts in.”

Jude was waiting in the
foyer, the look of the devil in her eyes.

“Cat and Ricky sitting in
a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Jude managed to avoid her baby sister’s swat.

“Grow up, you pain in the
ass!”

“Come on, little sis. You
love me and you know it.”

“Only because we’re
related.”

Hugs were exchanged all
around. I thanked Mary Jo for her hospitality. The Colonel gave me a sturdy
handshake that didn’t crush my bones.

“Seems as if we’ll be
seeing a lot of each other for the foreseeable future, Rick.”

“Looks that way, Colonel,
sir.” I snapped a smart salute.

He cocked an eyebrow.
“Butch. Seize.”

Claws clacked on
hardwood, announcing the impending arrival of the family bear-dog. Before I
could release my hand from The Colonel’s grip, Butch launched himself, nothing
but a brown and black blur, and struck my chest. I went reeling to the floor,
where he licked my face with canine fury.

“Say cheese!”

With a click, a whir, and
the blinding flash of a photo lens, Jude had captured a picture for the ages.

Me, on the ground and
smiling, face covered in dog tongue.

Everything is going to
be A-okay. As soon as they get this behemoth dog off of me.

Mary Jo and The
Colonel chuckle at the picture of Butch mercilessly licking my face. He was the
family dog for a lot of years. The pooch is dead now. Wouldn’t that be
something if I saw him on the other side? Playing fetch in the afterlife … if
there is one. I’m beginning to wonder. If there is nothing, well, I don’t want
to think about that right now.

Oh, here comes Jude.

She drapes an arm over
each of her parents’ shoulders. “Remember the day that picture was taken?”

“How could we forget it?”
Mary Jo says. “Your father almost had a stroke.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,
Mary Jo.” The Colonel’s voice is gruff, but a twitch of the moustache gives
away his smile. “Where are Sam and Jeff?”

“Outside with Celeste.
Rob’s watching them.”

Rob Curring: giver of the
gift of naughty lingerie. Also Jude’s husband. Beneath his quiet, stoic
exterior lies a great father who possesses a dry wit and treats his wife like a
goddess. He owns a chain of sporting goods stores called The Fore Seasons. It’s
a golf thing. Rob’s responsible and loves kids. Celeste is in great hands.

“Celeste isn’t being too
much of a handful, is she?” Catherine says.

Jude waves a hand and
sits beside her sister. “Please. She’s an angel. Besides, it’s good for Rob,
too. He’s not wired for this sort of thing. Bill show up yet? I thought he’d be
here by now.”

“No, not yet. He’s taking
this really hard. I think he feels out of place.”

Jude’s expression turns
sour. “This isn’t about him. It’s about Ricky. We’re all here for Ricky.”

“I know that and you know
that, but Bill’s so damn hard headed sometimes. Always has been.”

“He’ll have to get over
it, now won’t he? People have to move on.” She winces and takes Catherine’s
hand. “Oh, Cat. I’m sorry. Horrible choice of words.”

“It’s fine. Really, Jude.
It’s okay. I think he just wishes he did some things differently.”

“Don’t we all?”

Indeed we do.

Two uneventful weeks had passed
since I met the Maddox clan. Mom was happy as a clam things ended on a high
note and insisted the kids and prospective grandparents get together sometime.
That was okay by me, but I looked forward to some time off from both families
before those two worlds collided.

It was a humid Wednesday
morning in late August. I stared out my window, watching traffic zip along Rt.
1. My work for Helena’s Heaven, which had been coming along nicely, sat on the
computer screen untouched. My focus lie elsewhere.

Catherine had an
appointment with Dr. Ann that morning. Her spotting persisted since the last
visit. Concerned, she’d called the office and had her follow-up appointment
moved up. It had me worried. I’d offered to go with her, but she would have
none of it, saying it was routine, she’d be fine, it was nothing, etc., etc.,
so on and so forth. I wanted to believe her, I truly did, but a churning feeling
in the pit of my stomach drove me to distraction.

My phone rang, scaring
the hell out of me.

I cleared my throat. “Colbert
& Colbert, Richard Franchitti speaking.”

“Ricky? It’s me.” Catherine
sounded shaken up. My body tensed.

“Cat? What is it?”

“Can you … can you meet
me at Dr. Ann’s?”

“Of course, sure. What’s
it—”

“Please, Ricky. Come
right now.”

“On my way.”

I slammed the phone, sent
off a quick email saying that I had to leave early because of an emergency, grabbed
my keys, and ran out of the office.

It was one of the longest
drives of my life. Noon traffic clogged the highway and its access roads. My
fingernails bore the brunt of my frustration. Forty minutes later, my car
screamed into Dr. Ann’s parking lot, tires screeching as I pulled into the first
available spot. I bounded out of the car, sprinted through the searing parking
lot, and took the steps two at a time until I reached the third floor, where I
burst into the office and rushed the reception desk.

Panting and sweaty, I
asked the young brunette receptionist, “Catherine Maddox. Where is she?”

“And you are?”

“Rick Franchitti. The
father.”

“Exam Room 3, sir.”

I bolted without a ‘thank
you’, drawing odd looks from the waiting room’s occupants.

Whatever conversation Dr.
Ann and Cat were having came to a full stop once I entered.

Cat was playing with her
charm bracelet. Her makeup had run, leaving dark trails down her cheeks.

Dr. Ann stood up. “Mr.
Franchitti, would you—”

I walked to Cat, ignoring
the kindly doctor. “What happened?”

“It’s gone, Ricky,” Cat
said, shaking her head. “The baby is gone.”

I knew it as soon as I
answered the phone and heard Catherine’s shaky, panicked voice. I knew it the
entire drive through gridlock. That did nothing to lessen the shock. I felt as
if a cold hand had found its way up my shirt and gripped my chest.

“Gone,” I whispered.

Catherine nodded and dabbed
a tissue to her eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Dr.
Ann said.

“What happened?” I muttered
the words as I took a seat next to Catherine, not bothering to face the bearer of
bad news. Cat was lost, in pain, hurting. Fuck manners.

“These things happen
sometimes.”

Not good enough.

“What. Happened.”

Dr. Ann sat down with a
heavy sigh. “Mr. Franchitti. Rick. In my twenty-five years in this profession,
this is one part of the job I’ve never gotten used to. Spontaneous abortion
occurs approximately ten to twenty percent of the time, generally in the first
trimester. I know this is a small consolation, but you and Catherine are not
alone. Many others have gone through this very same thing.”

“It
is
a small
consolation. Those other people aren’t us. How did you find out?”

“The sonogram.”
Catherine’s shoulders were slumped, her voice vacant. “There wasn’t a
heartbeat. The baby stopped growing.”

For the first time, I
turned to Dr. Ann. “The spotting?”

“Spotting does happen,
but the fact that it persisted was a sign that things weren’t right. Lots of
women spot during pregnancy and don’t have this result. In your case, things
just didn’t work out.”

Still not good enough. I
wanted to find meaning where there was none. I felt that if I understood what
went wrong I could better help Cat deal with the loss. “Any idea as to the
cause? Why did this happen?”

“There’s not always a
specific cause, Rick. As I was explaining to Catherine, a miscarriage is one of
the body’s ways of telling us something was wrong with the baby. There could be
hundreds of reasons we can’t predict or treat. The body knows the fetus isn’t
developing properly and rejects it. I will tell you this, though …” Dr. Ann
leaned toward us, her eyes serious but kind. “I know it was nothing you did.
Either of you. People tend to blame themselves in this situation: “
If only I
did this, if only I didn’t do that
.” Moving forward, it’s very important
for you to realize it wasn’t your fault.”

“So what happens now?”
Catherine said.

“There are two options.” Dr.
Ann held up her index finger. “One: You can let the fetus pass naturally. The
body will take care of itself in most circumstances. Catherine, you can avoid
surgery this way, but it’s not guaranteed. Not only can it take some time for
the tissue to pass, there’s no certainty all of it will. That leads us to
option two,” she held up a second finger, “what’s called a
D&C
. It’s
a procedure in which the material is surgically removed. It’s outpatient—you’ll
be home later that day if this is the way you decide to go—but it does involve
general anesthesia. The risk of infection and complications are small, but
there.”

Catherine didn’t
hesitate.

“
D&C
. I’m not
waiting. I want this over with as quickly as possible.”