10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Charlie Gibson
S t. James Catholic church sits on the side of a hill on the northside of Lake Hollow. Minutes from The Bends and older section of town. Today it’s packed full, the streets surrounding it lined with cars. We’re all here to say goodbye to Lala. People I haven’t seen in years keep walking past. With my head down, trying to focus on keeping it together I don’t even say hi. “... always came to Bingo at the rectory every Monday night. I remember that fundraiser she started for the Boys and Girls club, got that off the ground and running. She loved the kids that grew up here.” An old neighbor of Lala’s has stationed herself next to mom, sharing stories of all her virtues with us.
But no one would know her depth of character more than our family. The first person at our door when Katie was found was Lala. She held my mom on our kitchen floor as my mom’s sobs rang through the house. She pulled my father into his office to listen to his angry grief. She sat silently with me on the dock holding my hand. Mitchell found solace in her time and attention for years. That woman put all of herself in others. Every piece.
Daniel must have known that. She’d been in my uncle’s life forever. A true Romeo and Juliet tale… two families pitted against each other, but they never let that affect their friendship or love. He was only seventeen when he fell, striking his head on the dock, drowning in the dark waters of Lake Hollow. They were young and in love, but Lala swears he was the love of her life. Never finding another person to call her own.
Cal glances my way from across the church where he’s sitting between his parents. Uncomfortable and pulling at the neck of his blue dress shirt. He’s probably remembering the last funerals we sat through here.
If I could get away with it, I’d march out of here right now. Get in my truck and drive as far and fast as I can away from this town. The lake, the rumors, the memories, and a cascade of obligations. Mom leans into my side, placing her hand over mine. She sniffles talking quietly to me, “Where did your dad go?”
He’s hiding, I’m sure. Emotions are only meant to be shown in private. I know how much he cared about Lala... she was an extension of Daniel to him. “I’ll look for him.” She grabs my hand tightly holding me in place. “Mom?”
“Why is he here?” I look back to the sanctuary doors where Wilder and his mom are entering. Remington a step behind them. I half stand wanting to go right to her. She looks ravishing in a knee length simple black dress, her hair up in a bun displaying that elegant long neck. I struggle not to smile at the small frog she drew under her ear.
But when she reaches forward and takes one of Wilder’s hands, I sit back down. Searching out Cal, I see his reaction when he spots them. This isn’t good.
Unlike me, Cal is quick to stand and stride their way. Wilder’s mom turns to him, I can only guess what she says that takes all the steam out of him. He nods, his posture suggesting that she put him in his place.
I’ll give him this much, Wilder looks respectable. Wearing a black suit, white button up, with a black and gray paisley tie. His hair styled back. He almost looks… normal? Never having met his mom, I’m surprised at how young and pretty she looks. But she shares the same glare her son has when the whispers erupt as they make their way to sit in one of the pews.
This town is split… more against than for Wilder's supposed innocence. A true pariah in every sense of the word. It’s ballsy to be here. I’m a little impressed.
My dad is going to have a stroke.
A hush falls over everyone, as Father Connelly the elder of the priests that serve the parish stands at the back of the church to make the processional. Cal and I make eye contact again. He’s going to need to cool it, we’re not talking Remi out of her feelings for Wilder or Grady. And now isn’t the time to try.
Where is Mr. Romantic Ruin anyway? Even his rude parents are amongst the mourners today. His older brother, Grant and his wife, their toddler are sitting at the front of the church rows ahead of his parents. That family is confusing. Has Gary Marlow managed to alienate his own sons? Seems that way.
Dad finally joins us during the opening rites as the priest is blessing Lala’s remains with holy water. He smells like a cigarette; mom wrinkles her nose and whispers about her irritation that he’s smoking again. If that’s the only fall out for him over this, we should count ourselves lucky. Mitchell couldn’t even join us today. He’s sleeping off a drinking binge that made dad start calling rehabs.
As the older priest does the sign of the cross stepping to the side, Father Lowe, a good friend of Lala’s steps forwards to the pulpit to give the liturgy. My attention snags on one of the stained-glass windows that always distracts me. It depicts Lake Hollow, half the water is dark, the other a lighter blue, an expanse of trees at the shore, other town landmarks, the Lakeside gazebo, the town square gazebo, the old bridge, are all weaved in. It’s beautiful to me now, when I was younger it creeped me out.
Duality. The dark and light. Good and evil.
What if it’s all mixed together? Just gray.
A miasma of ‘it is’ and no right or wrong.
Then I jerk my thoughts back into place. No. There has to be reasons. For the losses we suffer, the pain we feel.
“Grant us, with all who have died in the hope of resurrection, to have our consummation and bliss in thy eternal and everlasting glory, and with the blessed Virgin Mary and all thy saints, to receive the crown of life which thou dost promise to all who share in the victory of thy Son, Jesus Christ; who lives…,” Father Lowe’s deep voice is heard loud in the echoey chamber of the church.
The parish choir files in at the front of the church through an anteroom door, followed by Grady. He’s singing? It makes sense, but if it were a family member of mine, I’d never be able to get through it without breaking down. The gossips all sit up straighter, a couple of uncouth people pull out cellphones to record. My dad sternly tells one of the people near us to put it away.
Some people have no shame.
Remington is behind us four rows back on one side of Wilder, I’ve tried to see her by turning slightly but between a column two rows back and the packed bodies I haven’t seen more than the top of hair.
Both Cal and I wanted her here with us, but she said no. That she didn’t want to meet our families that way. I stupidly thought she’d be with Grady. Wrong yet again. She’s so hard to pin down.
Grady is handed an acoustic guitar by Father Lowe who leans in to say something, clapping him on the shoulder in reassurance. The choir fills the raised rows of pews facing the rest of us, all forty of them in their white robes with red symbols on them.
Slinging the guitar strap over his shoulder, he stands in his dark blue suit, silver undershirt. His head down for a few seconds. When he looks up at everyone, his eyes are red.
I remember him declining to sing at Katie’s funeral. My parents asked him to, since he was a big part of her music, both Carlotta and Grady were. The anger I felt towards him when he said no hasn’t dissipated completely. It felt like a slap in the face. Like he didn’t care about Katie. But he’s singing today at his aunt’s funeral. Could be that he’s gained notoriety and he’s less nervous, or maybe because she’s family, but it still rubs me the wrong way.
I recognize the music of Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton right away, as he strums the guitar the choir hums. The effect it has is haunting. My mom’s crying picks up as dad hugs her shoulder, pulling her in close.
His voice is clear, timber deep as the words fall on our ears. “Would you hold my hand… if I saw you in heaven?” I feel like puking. Memories of all the times Lala would grab my hand to squeeze, all the sage advice she’d bestow on us, all the cheerleading.
There’s not a dry eye.
Even though Grady manages to get through the song without choking up, tears can be seen on his cheeks. “Time can break your heart, have you begging please… Begging pleeeease.”
I look over at Cal, who is wiping tears from his eyes. His head down. I try to look at Remington again, instead I catch sight of Wilder. Tears streak his cheeks, his chin cocked back slightly in defiance of all the opening hostile stares.
Grady wraps it up, “Beyond the dark there’s peace I’m sure…” Wilder looks at me, after feeling my eyes on him. I nod back at him. A silent truce for today being offered. For today. “And I know there’ll be no more tears in Heaven.”
She’s reunited with Daniel. I swallow back the gorge in my throat, willing myself to stay focused on my parents. Not the despair falling over me. Mom is holding my hand, the other rests on dad’s leg. She’s wearing the loon pin that Carlotta gave her decades ago, an inside joke between them. She runs her finger over it before fishing out another tissue.
As Father Lowe comes to the center of the altar area, Grady sets the guitar down against the pulpit, taking a seat next to Grant. His niece climbing into his lap. The choir breaks into Psalms 91 (On Eagles Wings) led by all three of the priests present. Which was done at Katie’s funeral six years ago. I bend over my lap, gagging slightly. My mom’s hand rubbing my back as she shakes in grief.
Somehow, I’d managed to get myself here today not thinking about how it would invoke the past and rip up the ground we buried things under. I fooled myself into thinking I could do this. But it’s too much. Neither of my parents stop me from slipping out of the pew to the outer edge, running in the shadows to a side door.
Sucking in a big breath of the lilac scented air on the stone steps, I close my eyes to hold back the tears. A hand felt on my shoulder startles me. Turning to see Remi, the tears surge forth. I tightly crush her to me. Silent sobs while my tears wet her hair. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to get out of there.”
“I know, I know,” she whispers against my chest, holding me back just as tightly. “Lala would understand.”
That’s the messed-up part. She would. One of the few.
Remington sits in the heat of the afternoon on the stone steps next to me. We wait out the rest of the service. She points out different birds, tells me all about desert rain frogs, shows me how she can do a cartwheel in a dress without exposing herself… all in an effort to distract me. It works. I smile to myself when it dawns on me there’s not another single soul on earth as wonderful as she is. Not one.
Hand in hand we stand and walk to the front of the church with its propped open doors, we hear Father Conelly deliver a verse before the closing processional, “Remember not the sins and offenses of my youth: but according to thy mercy think thou upon me, O Lord, for thy goodness…”
Stepping out of the way as people stream from the church to follow the hearse to the cemetery, Remi follows behind me. I’ve had enough of the painful reminders today. I will not be doing that.
“There you are,” I hear mom’s soft voice as she heads towards us, her head tilts slightly, as her mouth thins in confusion. “Who is this?”
“This is Remington James. She didn’t want to meet you this way.” Remi pokes me in the side giving me her mean mug which is adorable. “Sorry. It’s true though.”
Mom gives her a quick tired smile, doing a nervous fluff of her poofy graying blonde hair. “I understand that feeling. It’s nice to meet you finally, Charlie talks about you all the time.”
Remi gives her dazzling smile back. “He’s pretty terrific.”
That gets a wider smile from mom as she says, “Well, his father and I think so, but it’s always gratifying to hear other people say it.” She wraps an arm around my waist to give me a hug. “I’m obviously mom. My name is Barbara, but no one calls me that. It’s Bonnie. I’m happy to finally meet Charlie's girlfriend.”
I watch for signs that she doesn’t like being called that. Instead, her eyes widen slightly, her smile more natural looking. She grabs my hand back. “It’s nice to meet you, Bonnie. I can assure you without your son’s help my uncle would’ve given up on the Funpark weeks ago.”
Dad is in deep discussion with Mayor Kelley, a dismal frump of a man, so mom stays with us. I’m on guard immediately when I see Wilder and his mom moving out of the church. He’s turning to say something to her when he sees us. Just keep walking, don’t come over here. I turn the edges of my mouth up, not a grin… more a… reminder that today is ‘weapons down’. It’s not the time or place to hash out the growing list of problems between us.
Remi bristles when mom says, “The gall of that young man to show up here today. After everything he’s done and gotten away with.” Pure venom dripping from her words.
“Mom,” my tone is light in warning, “Hey.” I shake my head at her. How do I word this right? “Plenty of people would say he was falsely accused.”
Biting her lip, Remi looks me in the eye before dropping her head. I don’t want to disappoint her, but what did she expect from my mom? She can’t understand years of history, one thing after another pointing to Wilder. When she looks back up it’s with a degree of fierceness, she straightens up, looking at my mom. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. If you’ll excuse me.”
Then I watch as my girlfriend walks directly to my enemy. The one mom looks ready to claw the eyes out of. “Charlie? What’s going on here?” She points between Remington and I, but there isn’t a good explanation.
I still don’t trust him. But Remi does.
“It’s a long story, mom. Could we ditch the rest of the service? We could get ice cream at Talley’s. I’ll tell you over the butterscotch ripple you like. Please.”
Her eyes bug out at me. “Charles Daniel… why do I feel like I’m developing an ulcer? What’s been going on around here?”
Sighing I rub my neck. “Mom, please. For Lala let's not start a turf war over St. James church. Wilder is free to go anywhere he wants or talk to whomever he wants to. Including my girlfriend who happens to be his friend.”
“Dear God.” She shakes her head. “Does she know what he’s capable of?”
Not yet. Hopefully, she’ll never have to.