“But I’m bored,” Eric said over the hospital phone. His voice sounded nasal. “I wanna come home, Mom.”
“I know, honey,” Susan said. She was on the cordless in her kitchen, stirring her coffee. “But you got banged up pretty good, kiddo. The doctor wants you to stay at least another day. I’ll be there in the afternoon. I’ll bring some Spiderman comics and some cookies.”
“Chocolate chip?”
“Double chocolate. Okay?”
“I guess …”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Eric?”
There was silence until Susan snapped it like a stick. “What is it?”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“… Nothing, I guess.”
“Are you all right?”
“Never mind.”
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“It’s stupid. And don’t call me that, Mom.”
“Tell me.”
“I just … I mean, last night … I just had a bad dream. That’s all.”
“About what?”
Susan waited patiently. She knew how hard it was for Eric to express his feelings.
“It was about Dad,” he said. Nothing more.
“It’s okay, honey. You can tell me.”
Eric hesitated. “I was at the funeral.”
Now it was Susan’s turn to be silent.
“Mom? You there?”
“… I’m here.”
“It was an open coffin, Mom.”
Susan shuddered. Paul’s service had been closed-casket. The decapitation had been clean—that was the word the mortician had used, clean, as if that made it better; as if somehow Paul hadn’t suffered. To make things worse, Paul’s parents had wanted him cremated, had even threatened a lawsuit. But Susan had had none of it. She wanted to lie next to her husband when the time came. She’d be damned if either of them was going to end up in a chili pot on somebody’s mantel.
“It was different,” Eric said.
“What do you mean?”
“It was Dad’s funeral, but it wasn’t. I know how it sounds. It was at the church. But the place, it … it was so dark and cold. And Dad … he wasn’t wearing a suit. Work clothes. All dirty and stuff. You know, like when he came home at night.”
More silence came. Susan had to prod Eric. “And?”
“… And his face … his throat—”
“No, no, honey, it’s all right, you don’t—”
“He wasn’t dead, Mom. He sat up and talked.”
“Talked?” The line fell silent again. “Eric? … Eric?”
“He said if I didn’t leave Kay alone, he was going to kill me.”
“Ohhhh, baby, it was just a dream. Your father would never say something li—”
“I wanna come home, Mom. I don’t sleep good here.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But you can’t—”
“I know. Doctor’s orders.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“When?”
“Around three,” Susan said. She checked her watch. “If not, shortly after.” The truth was, she was still waiting for the trash to be picked up. She didn’t like the idea of leaving the house knowing the branch was still at the curb, out of her sight. “That okay?”
“Is he coming?”
“You know he is. I have to bring him, Eric.”
“I don’t want to see him.”
“He can wait outside your room. Okay? … Okay?”
“… Fine.”
“I love you.”
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye.” Susan placed the headset back in its cradle. She didn’t know she was trembling.