Inconvenient Death
Not without effort, of course, I refused to think about Miles, because thinking of him meant admitting to myself my mother’s plan worked.
So here I was, headphones in my ears, music on, running along the breezy shore, my heart pounding with each step.
I pushed harder, to the point of exhaustion, because now, I could think about something else.
For example, how much I hated being a total bitch for doing this to myself this early in the morning.
When I got back, my mother, quite energetic after nearly dying yesterday, was picking flowers from her garden.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed, resting?” I drawled, unimpressed. “You know, channelling your inner Meryl Streep for a somewhat more convincing performance next time?”
Her eyes momentarily widened, but she quickly blinked the expression away. “My doctor suggested a little fresh air might do me well.”
My brow raised and I smirked. “Ah. Well, if your doctor suggests…”
“Elizabeth,” my father’s voice rumbled from behind my shoulder, “there you are…What on earth are you doing? Dr. Monroe advised you should rest!”
“Yes, yes! You tell her, Dad,” I mumbled, grinning at her.
“Well, I do feel much better today.” She forced a dramatic sigh, glancing at a few stems in her hands. “It looks like my bed of blossoms gives me strength…”
I didn’t stay for the rest of her speech, because whatever lies she had to say now were obviously not for my ears.
Inside, Jo sat, arms looped around Mark’s neck, while they both had coffees at the table.
Francine, across from them, her shoulders lounged against her chair, was telling them about a silent retreat she did with her mother just last summer and how they experienced a sense of spiritual renewal.
Then, when she reached the ‘unwind and recharge mentally’ and ‘them both seeking for a deeper connection’ part, a thought slipped through my mind as I imagined myself there with my…
Elizabeth—dead quiet—and the only thing louder than the silence was her disapproving stare.
I nearly winced. God, no, never ever in a million years.
So, I didn’t stay for that conversation either and quickly headed to take a shower.
***
Wrapped in a towel, I stood beside my window, my fingers curled around my phone as I erased the same number I typed there twice. “Hmm, third time’s a charm,” I breathed ironically and put the digits back in. “Okay, maybe they won’t pick up…please don’t pick up…”
He challenges you.
“Good morning! SafeDrive School, how can we help you today?”
“Um…hi…I would like to take refresher lessons…”
***
Black tank top and denim shorts on, I returned downstairs. Jo and Mark were still there. And so was Miles. Great.
“Hey.” He offered me a small smile.
“Hi.” I took a seat across the table, as far away from him as possible.
“Would you like something to eat?” asked Dorothy, Jo suggestively widening her eyes at me while nodding at Miles.
“Stop it!” I mouthed at my sister, then glanced back. “A poached egg on toast would be lovely. Thank you.”
“How is Elizabeth?” Miles asked, looking at me.
“Um, couldn’t be better.” Since she wasn’t even unwell in the first place.
“God! That was awful,” Jo shuddered. “I got so scared I couldn’t breathe.”
“But you two were quite the team yesterday,” Mark mumbled, his words making my eyes dart uncomfortably to Miles’ before quickly averting. A wave of memories from the previous evening washed over me—the overwhelming fear, the confusion. Yet, that very night, my gaze involuntarily searched for him.
Another forced smile touched my lips before I abruptly changed the subject.
“So, Mark, I’m excited to finally meet your brother. Aaron, right?” I asked, noticing Jo tense slightly at the mention of his name.
“Stepbrother,” he corrected with a nod. “I think he’s only coming because my stepmother made him.”
“You’re not close?”
Mark hesitated for a moment before responding. “Well, not particularly. But we don’t hate each other either. It’s….well, it’s complicated. I want my father to be happy, and Aaron probably wants the same for his mum, but we are not like those big happy families.”
“I see,” I mumbled, getting the message Mark didn’t want to dwell on it much.
“Oh, no!” Suddenly, the door slid wide open, my mother walked in with a phone clutched in her hand. “Bertram died.”
“Oh, God!” Jo gasped, her hand clenched at her chest. “That’s awful!”
“Who?” I stared at her, completely blank.
“Bertram!” my mother repeated, her voice stronger, as if saying that any louder was going to magically make me learn who the hell that person was.
“Another cousin?” I asked suspiciously.
“It’s Caroline’s future husband,” Mark muttered to me. “Well,” he added, “not anymore.”
Caroline? Caroline? The name echoed faintly in my memory. Wait…wasn’t that…? “Ah,” I instantly drawled as the pieces clicked into place. She was my cousin.
My mother huffed an exaggerated sigh. “Now we have to find another guest to put at his table.” What? Did she just say what I think she said?
“Wow, Mum!” I nearly snorted. “It looks like Bertram’s death is really quite an inconvenience to you.”
“Well.” She crossed her arms defensively. “I’m just simply being pragmatic, Florence.” Jesus. Who was this woman?
“Oh, I see!” I breathed sarcastically in understanding, as if her reason made it sound any less terrible.
“What happened to him anyway?” Miles rambled from across the table.
“Heart failure. Well, old age, really. Fair to say he had lived his life long enough.” My mother blurted, then exclaimed, “That man was nearly ninety-three!”
“So, this was love…after all, not his money,” I trailed off with a smirk, my stomach growling at the sight of my breakfast plate. “Thanks, Dorothy.”
A brief pause fell over the table, broken only by the clinking of silverware in my hands.
“That’s if he ever got around to updating his will,” Mark mumbled, his eyes fixed on his empty cup. “A perfect win-win situation, if you ask me.”
“Elizabeth, honey?” My father entered the room, wearing a concerned frown, his phone pressed tight against his ear. “I have some news.” Another death?
“Bertram died, Dominic,” my mother blurted with a sigh.
“Oh.” My father froze, then scratched his chin. “That’s certainly unexpected.” Seriously? Wasn’t he like ninety-three? “Caroline must be devastated.”
“She is,” my mother said, then added, “the funeral is next week.” Pulling a seating chart from her purse, she quickly grabbed a pen. “Jo—” She glanced at my sister. “—perhaps we could move Aunt Roberta there…”
“Um…” I mused, arching my eyebrow at her. Mark and Miles shared a quick glance, probably thinking what a family we were.
“What was the other news, Dad?” I asked my father.
“Oh, right,” he muttered, “speaking of the unexpected…Samantha went into labour!” he boomed.
“But she wasn’t due until August?” my mother exclaimed, her voice rising an octave.
“Well, look at that,” I mumbled, “the circle of life. Oh, oh.” An uncontrollable grin quivered my lips and I chuckled, “If it’s a boy they should really call him Bertram.”
Jo gave an exasperated sigh. “Then let’s hope it’s a girl,” she quipped, quickly stifling her snort with her palm.
“Also—” I glanced at my father. “—who is Samantha, again?”
“She was supposed to cover your father in the office,” my mother explained. “God, one terrible piece of news after another.”
“Well, you’ve got an open seat now.” Miles cleared his throat, glancing at my sister. “Maybe you can put Aaron in Bertram’s spot? Since you were unsure where to put him?”
Jo slightly winced. Her jaw tensed but she didn’t say anything. Why didn’t she like Aaron so much?
“That,” Mark paused, then added with a quizzical look at Jo, “could actually work?”
“Um.” She took a deep, uncomfortable breath.
Hmm, was there something she wasn’t telling me?
“Yeah,” she said quietly, “I suppose…it could.” My mother, meanwhile, had already sprung into action, ruthlessly crossing out Bertram’s name on the sheet and scribbling a new one above it; her lips quivered with each letter as she wrote ‘Aaron’ in a bright red ink.
“Apologies,” my father said, his forehead creased with worry. “I must excuse myself; I need to head to the office now.”
“I,” Jo quickly cleared her throat, “I can help, Dad.”
“Don’t you two have a wedding dance rehearsal today?”
“We could cancel it?” she offered, glancing at Mark.
“No!” my father said, “That’s alright. I’ll just…deal with it.”
Then, unsure even why, beyond all logic…“Um,” I began. I probably shouldn’t have, since I never wanted to be a part of it, but I couldn’t help it, so I said, “Perhaps…I could?” My words hung in the air, leaving both of my parents dazed in surprise.