Chapter 28
Harrison
Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I try to straighten my tie to no avail. Wearing my mother’s favorite navy suit, I try once more to get it just right.
“Here. Let me?”
Turning, I see Ellie standing in the doorway.
“Thanks. I suck at these things.” I wear ties all of the time for business meetings. But my heart isn’t in this. Who wants to get dressed up so they can say goodbye to the one person they’ve known their whole life? The one person who loved them enough to stay?
“There.” Her words bring me back from wherever the hell I was.
“Thanks. Matt all ready to go?”
“Yeah. He just needed a minute.”
I nod, realizing I’ve been so focused on my own grief I haven’t been a very good big brother. But I’ve been on this taffy puller of a life for so long, I simply don’t have anything left to give. I’m barely putting one foot in front of the other. Not to mention, soon he and Ellie will be back in Sycamore Mountain, and I’ll be left alone in this empty place. Nothing but the memories of her here to torment me.
“Is he okay?”
“I think so. He’s dealing with a lot of guilt. Believing he should’ve done more to help you. Spent more time with her. But I think you two are made of different stuff.”
Looking in her direction, I wait for her to clarify what she means. “You’re so strong, Harry. You were so patient with her. It tore Matthew up when she didn’t know who he was. I’m not saying it didn’t have the same impact on you, but your brother could never have done what you did. As much as he appreciated your keeping her in your home, he wouldn’t have been able to manage.”
I’d never want my brother to take any blame for this. It was my choice to keep her at home. I acknowledge it wasn’t purely altruistic. It was selfish. I needed her here. Matthew had a life somewhere else. “He has nothing to feel guilty about.”
“Well, neither do you. You’re a good man, Harrison. I’m sure your mother is looking down with pride at the strong person she raised.”
I know she means well, but I don’t want to think about that right now. Moving past her, I head into the bedroom. Standing in front of my dresser, I instinctively reach for my Magic 8 ball, only to find it’s gone. Not sure why I even need it at a time like this. Maybe because it’s one of the few tangible things I have left of my parents. Had Mom hidden it somewhere? Rather than get fixated on the missing item, I decide to look for it in her room later and walk toward the kitchen, where I find Charlene perched at the marble island. She’s dressed in black, her hair now a golden hue.
“Hey, blondie,” I joke. My voice so hoarse it likely sounds like a prepubescent teen.
“Hey, babe. How you holding up?”
I shrug my shoulders. I mean, how do you reply to that? I feel like I’m lost at sea? A boat without an anchor?
Walking over to the coffeepot, I recall the day Harlow and I woke to find Mom had made coffee and poured cereal for her boys. The image of my mother running her hand down their back and referring to them with our names causes me to choke up. There’s no sense in pouring any of this. I’ll never taste it anyway.
Matt and Ellie enter the room, and I turn. Char holds her arms out for Ellie, who quickly comes in for a hug.
“You all right?” I ask Matt.
“Yeah. I’ll be okay. How about you? You going to be okay here?” Without her is what he’s trying to ask. I answer the best way I know how.
“I don’t know.”
We head to the church, surprised to find the parking lot so full of vehicles. My mom hadn’t entertained friends in years. We weren’t big into church. Who were all these people?
As we enter, we’re ushered into a parlor room until the service begins. Everyone makes awkward chit chat, if only to break the silence that continually draws your thoughts toward despair.
“Hi.”
I turn to see Joyce and instantly feel a warm sensation envelop me. It’s a connection I truly need today. “Thank you for coming,” I greet as I pull her in for a hug.
“Where else would I be?” She smiles.
I owe her a debt I’ll never be able to repay. While she earned her keep providing almost round-the-clock care for my mother in her last days, it was never discussed that she would take over funeral arrangements. Yet she did.
If it had been left to me, we wouldn’t have gotten very far. I haven’t been able to see past my own grief to do much of anything constructive. It’s a miracle I’m dressed.
Someone from the church motions for us to follow, and we’re escorted into the sanctuary and directed to sit in the row reserved for family. Right next to where my mother lies. I couldn’t bear to see her at the viewing held at the funeral home. I grappled with whether I might change my mind and need to say goodbye. Hold her hand one last time. Yet as devastated as I was to not have been there when she died, this isn’t how I want to remember her.
Looking over my shoulder, I note the church pews are nearly at capacity. But how? I recognize many of the faces. Jo gives me a grandfatherly nod from his seat. Mrs. M sends a genuinely supportive smile in my direction. And to her right, I’m startled to see Braxton. There are many more faces I recognize, even if I don’t recall their names. I guess it’s what happens in a small town. Whether they’ve known you a day or a lifetime, they show their respect.
All but my father. No sign of him. Not that I imagined he might.
The service begins, and while I try to focus on the little anecdotes about my mother someone has shared with the minister, I feel like I’m in a fog. How do I move on? It’s not like I’m such a momma’s boy I can’t manage. Yet knowing I’m about to start the rest of my life adrift, nothing tethering me to my home, is all-consuming. For all of the questions regarding my identity I had growing up, nothing felt as isolating as this.
The ceremony feels as if it is coming to a close until one more person comes to the podium. I sense I’ve been in a haze the entire time I’ve been sitting here.
Until now.
“Hi. My name is Joyce, and I had the incredible honor of spending the last few years with Carolyn Hightower. I considered her a dear friend up until the very end. What a gift it was that she needed me. Otherwise, I might’ve missed out on spending time with this amazing woman.”
Tears well within my eyes. I’d managed to keep it together. But hearing her speak of my mother this way is testing me. I guess she appreciated aspects of my mother’s life I couldn’t fathom. Leave it to Joyce to find a positive spin to Alzheimer’s.
“I spent countless hours during my time with Carolyn, looking through photo albums, playing favorite CDs she’d stored in her room, and taking walks on the beach. Some conversations were, shall we say, colorful?” A low hum of laughter reverberates through the guests. “While others were unpredictably candid. It was a wonderful surprise, not knowing which you’d receive.”
Blinking back tears, I try to stay focused on the here and now. It’s tempting to tune her out, if only to protect my heart while I’m sitting amongst a crowd. But I’m here to say goodbye to the best person I’ve ever known. So, I will myself to take courage, even though I want to cry like a little boy.
“I won’t bore you with all of the stories I’ve collected over the years. But instead, will say that Carolyn Hightower was blessed. She’d said it herself. Early on, during moments of clarity, when she was well aware her memory was leaving her, she’d said I’ve been blessed beyond measure, Joyce. I have the best boys a mother could ask for .”
Sniffles and coughs whir around me, and I have to fight to not to break down.
“And there’s one thing I need to share with you, boys.” Joyce’s voice cracks as she looks down in our direction. “While you may not have grown in her womb, she loved you more than you’ll ever know. She chose you. That’s a gift the rest of us will never experience.”
I see Ellie pulling a sobbing Matthew into her arms, just as Charlene’s hand curls around mine. Looking up toward the ceiling, I pray I’ll make it through this without curling up into a ball.
“I’ll leave you with one last thing before I go.” Her tone is more forceful, more controlled than it was moments ago. See, Harry. If she can do it, you can do it. Pull yourself together.
“I’m not sure if anyone knew this but me. And again, what a gift,” she says, lifting both hands to the sky as if giving thanks. “But this was Carolyn’s favorite song. Whenever I put it on, she smiled. We often danced like young girls as it played in the background. And the words couldn’t be a more fitting tribute to what Carolyn wanted for her boys.” Joyce looks over, blows a kiss in our direction, then carefully descends the pulpit steps to her seat as the chords of the song begin to play. It takes a moment before I recognize the tune. But once I do, I can no longer hold these tears at bay.
A mid-tempo ballad that crossed over from country to the pop charts in the early 2000’s, that encouraged the listener, or whomever it was written for, to live life to its fullest. I recall the song being played, and remember Mom enjoying it, but I had no idea just how much until Joyce pointed it out today.
Lee Ann Womack’s soft voice quietly sings of how she hopes the person listening never loses their curiosity and hunger for life. Until the chorus of “I Hope You Dance” begins to play, where she belts out that the listener should not take life for granted with gusto. That when you’re given a choice to sit it out or dance… well, dance.
There’s not a dry eye in the place. At least I’m in good company.
As the service comes to a close, we’re escorted back to the small parlor where we initially met, and I’m able to step away to the restroom for a moment to splash some water on my face. We still have to head to the cemetery after this. There’s no way I’m going to be capable of attending any luncheon these kind ladies have organized on her behalf. How do people sit down and eat a tuna casserole after something like this?
The afternoon draws to a close, and the four of us head back to the house. It’s been a long day, and thankfully everyone retreats to their private spaces to recover. Charlene will likely be back tomorrow. Her and Ellie have been keeping Matt and I fed.
Matt is trying to avoid using too much time off, as one of his firefighter brothers has had to take a leave of absence to help out his dad who fell and broke a hip. I remember far too well what that experience was like. And at least Mom didn’t require surgery.
The medical examiner confirmed she had died of a pulmonary embolism. Not that it mattered. She was gone and there was no bringing her back. Somehow, I could feel her slipping away before she even came home from the rehab facility. I’d often wondered if she’d decided she was ready to move on from this life while she was there. Was the pain too much for her? Or was she ready to let go of the mind that had betrayed her?
If heaven has returned her memories, I guess I should do like Joyce, and focus on something positive. Mom’s at peace now, filling in crossword puzzles with whichever words she chooses.
The following morning, I drag my weary body down the hall for coffee, if nothing more than to be able to spend as much time with Matt as I can before I have to drive him back to the airport.
“There he is,” Ellie greets. She pours a fragrant hot cup of coffee into a mug and hands it to Charlene to doctor with cream.
Char holds the coffee cup out for me with a cautious smile. “Come, sit down.”
Why does that seem ominous?
I reach for the mug with my right hand, tugging on her blonde strands with my left. “Never know what color you’ll be.”
She shrugs. “I don’t like to show favoritism.”
“Do I even know what your real hair color is?”
“Probably not.”
“I barely do.” Ellie giggles as she plates some of the best smelling home fries next to a steaming omelet stuffed with vegetables and cheese.
“Man, I’ve missed your cooking.”
“Well, I’m happy to share as long as I’m here. Plus, you know where to find us.” She picks up an herb covered potato from the skillet and pops it into her mouth. “You haven’t seen the restaurant yet.”
“You’re right.” I leave out, because I couldn’t leave my mother home alone any more than I already had. Somehow, having the funeral behind me has caused me to be a little more surly at how often I’d left her. It may be the stages of grief talking, but I was now having a harder time with the fact she died without me being here than I had before.
“What are your plans?” Matt asks.
“For what?” Today, tomorrow, next year? Where is he going with this? “Hang out with you until I have to bring you back to the—"
“You know what I mean, dipshit. Are you planning to stay here?”
I look about the place, confused. “What’s wrong with it?” I love my home. Sure, it was full of memories of Mom, but I was okay with that. I’m already feeling dejected. I don’t need to pack up and move somewhere void of any connection to anyone.
“Harry, the place is beautiful. You know that. We just worry about you here.”
“Why?”
Charlene, who is frequently devoid of a filter, comes closer. “Because you’ve been avoiding relationships for long enough. The last thing you need is to wallow in sorrow here.”
What the hell?
“ Who’s avoiding relationships?” I ask pointedly, my eyes narrowing in her direction. Charlene may have intimated that she was trying to get back out there, but I’ve yet to see it. And why am I suddenly in the hot seat this morning?
“What happened to your girl?” Matt asks as steam rises from his cup, making his visage blurred.
“What girl? I don’t have a girl.”
“Yes, you did,” the three of them answer simultaneously.
“It didn’t work out.”
“Why? Because you didn’t make room for her? You pushed her away before she could do the same to you?” Matt barks.
“All right, all right. I don’t need an intervention. I know I suck at relationships. Do we really have to do this now?”
“Yes!” Ellie blurts. “You aren’t getting any younger, old man. You can’t keep pushing everyone away.”
“I don’t push everyone away. I’ve got Char.”
Charlene rolls her eyes at me. “I’m a convenient plus one. A wing woman. I deserve better.” She snorts. “And so do you.”
“You’re better than this,” Ellie says. “Sometimes, I wonder if you didn’t prefer it that way. Too busy to take a chance.”
“Yes. I’ve wondered the same thing.” Matthew steps behind Ellie, pulling her back to his chest before draping his arms around her. Seeing them together only reminds me of how alone I’ll be soon. “It’s an insult to our mother.”
I hop up from my seat abruptly, incensed that anyone would accuse me of doing anything to degrade her. My stool topples to the ground, only magnifying how tense I feel.
“Whoah, whoah, whoah. Just listen to me, Harry. I love you. I’m only saying this to give you an ounce of perspective. From what you told me about this girl, she sounds as if she was perfect for you. Hell, she’s living a life just like Mom did. A single mother to two boys, getting the job done alone.”
“Kicking ass and taking names.” Charlene snorts. “What? She’s like GI Jane or something, right?”
Now I roll my eyes at her.
“Shit, that’s hot.” Matt fans himself.
“I don’t know what any of this has—”
“It has everything to do with you. Weren’t you there yesterday? Listening to that song? Mom would want you to take a chance. You’re the only one standing in your way.”
My head falls. I know they mean well, but we’ve barely buried our mother, and they’re focused on my love life.
“Look, that song did a number on me, Harry. I’m so grateful I took a risk and Ellie did the same. You forget, she was all alone too. You aren’t the only one struggling with the hand they were dealt. Once her grandfather died, she could’ve pushed me away. But we leaned on each other. I’m just asking you to give this girl a chance. And if not her, someone else.”
I’m still not ready to think about a romantic relationship with anyone right now. Maybe once I can handle my grief more. If there was anyone who I’d want to consider one with, it’s Harlow. But I worry after not hearing from her in so long, that ship has sailed.
Maybe I need to go back to The Wild Shrimp and find a pretty “here today, gone tomorrow” kind of girl. I haven’t gotten laid in months. What had Gus said? Knock the cobwebs off of my dick to clear my head? Who knows? That could be the answer. At least that’s one relationship I can handle.
One night, no strings.