We were all mortified. Elizabeth started carrying on like a wild woman, beating her fists upon some poor woman’s chest right there for the whole Forties Settlement to see. I swear she tried to push her into that open grave, and would have had Cliff not stepped in to stop her. She whined and sobbed and lamented then stomped out across the cemetery, leaving Cliff to make excuses for her behaviour. What could he say after all that, other than Elizabeth had been very close to her father and was extremely distraught over his death? Well, distraught didn’t even begin to describe what we’d just witnessed. I thought about that day in April when Elizabeth nearly went beside herself and all because Jacob and Jewel were down playing by the shore, something they’d done countless times before. That was the day I reached my limit. I told Cliff that he and the children were welcome to come anytime, but there was no way I was going to turn a blind eye to the hurtful things Elizabeth had said to me. That’s where I drew the line. Someone in the family had to stand up to her, and that someone was me.
People at the graveside started mumbling, telling Cliff not to worry about apologizing for what had just happened, that it was no worse than the time Sue Jordan tried to stop the undertaker from lowering the casket into the ground when old Duff died. But this really wasn’t the same at all, since Sue hadn’t been right from birth and everyone knew she didn’t understand an ounce of what was happening that day. And it wasn’t as if she knew it all meant she’d be sent away to live in a home somewhere, since Beth was in no real shape to look after herself, let alone a forty-nine-year-old with the mind of a child. Elizabeth, being mature in mind, had no excuse for her behaviour. She was just acting out like the spoiled brat she was.
There had been a bit of a fracas near the casket when they first walked into the church. I was at least satisfied to see that Elizabeth and Jewel were wearing the church hats I’d lent Cliff. And I’ll say, they did look halfway presentable, which was all any of us could ask for at that point. It’s not as if Elizabeth was going to gain any kind of fashion sense about her at this point in her life. I also took note that she had on the navy blue dress I’d mentioned to Cliff over the telephone. Really, it was the only decent thing I’d ever seen her wear, and I knew it would go quite well with the hat, and none of that had been a coincidence on my part.
The casket lid should have been closed before they ever came into the church. Anyone with a little common sense would tell you that. I’m not sure whose fault that was, but as I told Dylan later, it would be a cold day in hell before I’d ever let Westcott’s look after one of my own when the time comes. With everyone standing in the church it was difficult to see what was taking place, although I knew something wasn’t quite right by the mumbling I heard. I elbowed Dylan to get his attention. He was next to the aisle, and I was sure he could see what was going on. He leaned over and told me to never mind.
Time paused for the longest stretch. I kept straining to see, but there were too many heads in the way. When Cliff finally managed to steer Elizabeth into the pew, I breathed a sigh. Imagine if she had caused a hullabaloo right there in the church. Why, we would never have lived it down. Everyone from the Forties to Chester Basin and beyond would have heard about it, and I can’t begin to wonder what I would say to the church guild then. I gave up making excuses for her years ago when they moved away from Chester shortly after they were married. I wasn’t about to start trying to convince everyone that she was someone other than who she was. Yet, God help me, I didn’t want Cliff and the kids to have to suffer any more than they already had.
Somehow Cliff managed to get Elizabeth through the service without making too much of a fuss, although I did see him pulling her back down into the pew a few times during the service, when she kept jumping up out of her seat. Each time I bit the side of my cheek, hoping she wouldn’t act out. Not now, dear God, I prayed, not in front of all these witnesses. Not in your house, of all places.
It was a picture-perfect day for a funeral, scarcely a cloud in the afternoon sky, and when I stepped outside a sparrow flitted in front of me and perched on top of the church spire. I took it as a positive sign as I followed the mourners out to the cemetery, but that was just the hopeful part of me. Up until that point, Everett had been given a good send-off. That much everyone agreed upon, and if Elizabeth hadn’t been so selfish, she would have agreed with that too. It was a lovely service—if one could actually call a funeral lovely. Reverend Collins’s eulogy was uplifting, and it was the first time I’d come away from a funeral feeling slightly glad for the dearly departed, which was a testimony to Reverend Collins’s ministerial abilities. At least Everett’s torment was over—all the things Elizabeth had put him through over the years is what I’m referring to. Only that meant it would all fall on Cliff’s shoulders, and I dreaded the thought of what that would mean for all of us. Everett could usually be counted on to keep her in line—to some degree, at least—when he wasn’t spoiling her rotten.
If Cliff and Elizabeth had done what normal people do instead of running off to a Justice of the Peace, I might have been able to keep Cliff from making the biggest mistake of his life. But they couldn’t wait. They burst into the kitchen late one evening, shoving Elizabeth’s wedding band in our faces like we should fall all over ourselves about their good news.
“We’re going to stay at the Kelley place for now,” said Cliff. “But we’re planning to buy a farm in the Forties one day.” He looked over at Elizabeth and smiled like he’d been put under a spell. Buy a farm and move to the Forties? Neither one of us could believe our ears. It wasn’t like Cliff to hurry into something without at least talking it over with his older brother. First off, Dylan would have told him not to jump into marriage, that he didn’t know this girl well enough. He’d also have told him that it wasn’t a good time to be buying a farm and that no one ever did get rich farming. It was all her doing; somehow she’d brainwashed him into doing this reckless thing. He’d be sorry in the end, I was certain. But believe me, this was one time I wished I’d been wrong.
“What about the Maggie?” said Dylan, and when I saw the disappointment in his eyes it crushed me. They’d been fishing together since Jake died. Cliff didn’t know a thing about farming.
“I guess she’ll be all yours,” said Cliff, shrugging Dylan off as if the boat their father had left them when he died was some old jalopy rusting in the dooryard. “I’ll keep fishing for now.” The Maggie had been their livelihood, Dylan’s pride and joy. Dylan went out fishing with his mother after Jake passed away, knowing things like that always fall to the oldest in the family. Barely sixteen he was when he quit school, and never once made a complaint about the opportunities he was giving up: the chance for a good education, to make something more of himself. He gave all that up with the hope that Cliff would have the chance to do what he couldn’t, and now Cliff wouldn’t stand a chance at anything, being married to Elizabeth.
“How did we ever get ourselves tangled up in this mess?” I said after they left that night.
“It’s not our mess to get tangled into, Joan. Cliff’ll have to deal with Elizabeth as he sees fit. They’re married now. We’ve got to stay out of it,” Dylan said, as if having Elizabeth in the family wasn’t going to affect us all one day. Maybe he thought I couldn’t see the disappointment in his eyes as his brother drove off that evening. Maybe he thought I believed him when he wished his brother well. He put on a good face, but he wasn’t fooling me. And I thought to myself, Just give it a little time, Dylan MacKay, and see if I’m not right about this being a mess. You just see if I’m not right. This family would rue the day that woman came into our lives.
Everyone has their own sad story, I guarantee it, even the ones you see smiling and walking down the street like they’ve got their heads in the clouds. But those same sad stories are what shape a person into being who they are in the present. I dare say it couldn’t have been easy, what with Elizabeth’s poor start in life, but after a while you just have to keep those things from bothering you. You can’t hold fast to a moment in time while the rest of the world goes on living. You’ve got to pick up those pieces and start making sense of them. And so I made myself a promise the same night Cliff made his whirlwind announcement: I wasn’t about to let Elizabeth be this family’s undoing. And I wasn’t about to rest easy until she was out of our lives for good.
If I was smiling out at the graveside, I hope no one noticed. I meant no disrespect. A few more minutes and this will all be over, I kept thinking, a few more minutes. And just when it looked as if things were about to go off without a hitch, Elizabeth started in. The way she carried on was more shocking than anything she’d ever done in the past. We were on sacred ground, in case she didn’t realize it, which I’m sure she did, and if you can’t behave there, you might just as well be given up as a lost cause. Looking back, all those other things she’d put Cliff and the rest of us through seemed plenty mild compared to the fiasco that took place out in the graveyard during the committal service. When Elizabeth attacked Sandra right there by her father’s open grave, I staggered backward into Dylan. Thank God we weren’t standing there as part of the family is all I can say. Dylan grabbed me and steadied me, and I whispered, “Dear God above.”
“Are you seeing stars again?” he said. I was far from being faint in that moment. It was the horror of it all—bearing witness to such a ghastly scene while the world looked on.
“That’s Sandra Peterson,” someone next to me whispered. “The two of them have known one another for years.” Dylan gave me the strangest look just then, like the things I’d been saying about Elizabeth all along were finally making some sense. He always thought I’d been too hard on her. Elizabeth started screaming at Sandra to leave her alone, and Cliff was shaking her, trying to snap her out of it. Why, that poor woman was simply offering her condolences, comfort, and sympathy.
With the scene at Everett’s funeral, you might ask me then if I was surprised about what happened a few weeks later, and I’d have to say not one bit. Not one little bit.