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“She survived cancer and then died of sudden cardiac arrest. Un-fucking-believable.” I shook my head as I stood at the back of the church, staring down the aisle at the coffin in front of the altar.
Charlie stood next to me, and Ethan was on my right. I hadn’t intended to introduce Ethan to Charlie so soon, but we’d been spending a lot of time together, and they’d accidentally met when Charlie dropped me off one night and Ethan ran outside in his pajamas.
After that and after learning Alana was pregnant, Ethan was filled with confusion and questions. Each child had difficulties with divorce at different stages. Ethan had breezed through separation and moving to Queens, but now that new people were being introduced, he was struggling to figure it all out.
“So Charlie is my dad now. Now that Daddy will have a new baby, right?”
I’d tried to explain that wasn’t how it worked. He seemed to understand but refused to spend the weekend with Mark. Perhaps not surprisingly, Mark had acquiesced a little too easily.
We walked down the aisle and sat near the front of the church. My father, sister, brother-in-law, and nieces were to my left. Aunt Fran, Andrea, and the rest of the family were a row behind us. Mark and Alana were sitting behind them.
“Where is Grandma?” Ethan asked.
“In heaven,” I said.
“Who’s in there?” He pointed at the coffin.
“Grandma.”
He was understandably perplexed.
“I’ll explain later. We have to be quiet now. They’re going to start.”
I glanced behind me to see if my father’s family had made it on time from New Jersey, and I spotted Dan and Karen. What are they doing here?
As the mass started, I wondered how Dan and Karen would know of my mother’s passing. Why would they come? Do they want me to come back to the firm? What would I even say to that? And is this really what I’m thinking about at my mother’s funeral?
I turned to the other side. That was when I saw Danielle. What is she doing here? The last time I’d seen her, she was sitting with Melody and Jessica at Long Island at Play. But a few days later, she’d sent me a text saying that she hoped we could still be friends and keep in touch. I’d replied that I would like that very much. It was nice of her to come, especially by herself.
Who else is going to pop into my mother’s funeral? I can’t take much more. I just want to go home and go to sleep.
In accordance with my mother’s wishes—since she’d believed at one point that she was dying of cancer, she’d given this some thought—we were not going to have a burial. We would just have a mass for her, and then we would have the repast—at Cordillo’s, of course—but no burial. We were all fine with that, as that was what she wanted.
I remembered what she’d said after her surgery. “I do not want everyone standing in dirt and watching me go into the ground. Do I want people standing around, watching me go to the bathroom? No. Same thing. Give me some privacy.”
“So you don’t even want me, Daddy, and Jada there for the burial?” Orly had asked.
“No. No burial. It’s so morbid.”
“This conversation is morbid,” I said.
“But the coffin will be at the mass?” Orly was still trying to get the logistics down. My mother and Orly were typically traditional about weddings and christenings and other family affairs. My mother bucking the trend had Orly in a tizzy.
“Sure. You can have my coffin at the mass. My coffin, which you, Orly, will probably pick out, and which you, Jada, will probably think is hideous, your favorite word.”
“When was the last time you heard me use that word?” I asked.
“I don’t know how old you were, but you used to say it all the time.”
“Used to,” I pointed out.
My mother imitated me. “You’re going to wear that? That’s hideous. You’re hanging that on the wall? That’s hideous.”
She and Orly had laughed, and I’d smiled so as not to be a completely poor sport.
Now, as I sat in church, wishing I could hear my mother laugh again, I realized they were right. I used to use that word a lot. It was meant to show how different—and superior, in my mind at that time—I was to them, their little band of two that never left Queens.
But I’d changed. And not just because I was back in Queens.
Father Bertoli talked, and I was sure his eulogy was lovely, but I didn’t hear any of it. When the mass was over, the two iced coffees I’d drunk to shake off the Tylenol PM I’d taken the night before kicked in, and I had to use the bathroom.
As people filed out, I worked my way through the crowd and toward the bathroom. I hurried down the steps and almost knocked over Dan and Karen.
“Hey,” I said. “I saw you guys during the mass. I can’t believe you would come.”
“What? Of course we’re here,” Dan said.
“We’re so sorry, Jada,” Karen said.
“Wow. Thank you. It really means a lot. I’ve got to pee, but I want to talk. You’ll come to the repast?”
“Yes. We miss you,” Dan said.
“I miss you too.” I said. “Actually, not really.” Dan’s head tilted like a confused dog. “But I miss busting your chops.”
He laughed.
I faced Karen. “And I miss you being so nice that it was annoying. But I could never come back now.”
“You’re not invited back,” Dan said.
“Gee, thanks. Well, you wouldn’t even believe what I’m doing now anyway,” I said as a few of my cousins on my father’s side brushed past me and headed up the steps.
“We really miss you, though,” Dan said. “And we’re sorry.”
“Well, thank you for coming. We’ll talk more at Cordillo’s. It’s really good food.” I started to walk away but turned back. “Hey, how did you know about my mom?”
“Frontbook,” Karen said.
“I’m not on that anymore.”
“You were tagged in someone’s post with the obituary.”
Tagged! Fucking Frontbook.
I finally made it downstairs and opened the door to the bathroom then almost bumped headfirst into Veronica.
I fell into her arms. “Oh my God. It is so good to see you.”
“How are you?”
“Tired.” I exhaled. “And I’ve got to pee.”
She stepped to the side. “Go for it.”
I headed toward the stall then turned around. “Hey. How do you know a sign is meant for you?”
She thought for a moment. “It’s like falling in love. You just know.”
“Well then, I’m screwed.” I pushed through a stall door.
“Just ask. Ask, and you shall receive. You’ll see,” she called. “Want me to wait for you?”
“No,” I said from the stall. “I’ll see you at Cordillo’s, right?”
“Of course.” I quickly finished and headed upstairs to find my family when, at the top step, I ran into Todd.
“Oh my God. What the hell are you doing here?” I shouted.
He was stone-faced. “I saw the obituary on Frontbook. A friend of a friend of your sister’s.”
Fucking Frontbook.
“I wanted to pay my respects.”
“Pay your respects?” My old coworkers, maybe. Old and new friends, yes. But him? What the hell is he doing here?
“I wanted to do something nice. I wanted to be respectful to you. I don’t know.”
“Then send a card.”
“It’s been awhile, but I still think about how it ended really ugly.”
“You know what’s ugly? This tie.” I pointed at his paisley-and-leaf tie.
He glanced down. “It’s for fall.”
“It’s ugly. Go home to your family.”
“Jessica left.”
“Aha.” I shook my head.
“I really just wanted to say I’m sorry about your mom, and I’m sorry for everything. Are you holding up okay?”
“Yeah. I am.” I held onto the stair railing.
He nodded. “Good. You know, when my mom died, I didn’t cry for weeks. Maybe it was because I was young and distracted by things in college, but I know other people who experienced the same thing. I thought you might be the same way.”
I actually hadn’t cried. “Thank you for the info. Sorry about Jessica. I mean, good for her, but anyway, goodbye.” I walked past him and then whipped around. “Listen, the repast, it’s at a great restaurant.” I stared at him. “But you’re not stupid enough to show up, right?” I didn’t want Charlie wondering who this guy was and then learning it was Todd, who I’d told him all about when we recapped past-relationship history. And I certainly didn’t want him to think we were still in touch.
“You haven’t changed, Jada.”
“Actually, Todd, you have no idea. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” he said quietly.
I walked away.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
I whipped around. “Oh, come on! Are you fucking kidding me?” I screamed in church.
The vestibule got quiet. I glanced around, and my eyes met Charlie’s. He was standing with Mark, Alana, Ethan, my father, and Orly. Each one of them was wide-eyed.
There was my ex-husband, my ex-whatever, and my new boyfriend all staring back at me.
Charlie came over. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, well, you know my ex-husband.” I motioned to Mark. “And now, here’s my ex... whatever. You know, that big San Francisco mess I told you about. I don’t know what he’s doing here. He’s an idiot.”
“Hi. I’m the idiot.” Todd stepped forward to shake Charlie’s hand.
“Oh, ew.” I reached out and chopped their handshake. “Stop that. Okay, listen. Let me give you a little update since I’m not on social media anymore. I’m really happy. I live at my parents’ house in Queens. I share a bedroom with my son, and we both sleep in twin beds. I lost my job in the city, and now my clients are elderly, and I spend my days threatening their landlords, and I’m happy. Yes, my mother just died, but I’m happy. My child is healthy. My new boyfriend is... normal, in my eyes at least. Really, really happy.”
I reached for Charlie’s hand, and we walked out the door.
###
AT CORDILLO’S, I SIPPED a Diet Coke—I didn’t have much of an appetite—and chatted with Veronica and Danielle. I also spent most of my time trying to get Ethan to look in my direction and away from Charlie. I was asking him if he wanted to eat his pasta from the pasta factory with a spoon when Orly tapped my shoulder.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“What’s up?”
“Can we go in the hallway?”
“Sure.” I excused myself from the table.
After we stepped into the hallway, between the kitchen and the dining area, Orly said, “Listen, the funeral director gave Daddy her rings—her engagement ring and her wedding band—and also the bracelet with the three diamonds.”
I must have appeared as baffled as I was.
“You know, the one with the diamonds that are in a row.”
“I know it. I just don’t know why we’re talking about this right now.”
“Well, I figured you’d want one of those. Those were her nicest pieces of jewelry.”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “Orly, this has been an insane day. Can we talk about this later? Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Because Daddy just got them, and he’s holding them in his pocket, and he asked me. I’m being considerate.”
“Considerate how?”
One of the servers carrying a tray of baked ziti scooted us to the near corner of the hallway.
“By not taking all three. We’re sisters, remember?”
“Okay, well, listen, you can have all three. I don’t care.”
“I thought you would care now.”
“Now that she’s gone? I guess I’m just not as sentimental as you. Keep it all. I mean it.”
“No. I mean, now that you’re like the rest of us. You used to have your big diamond engagement ring, and now you’re like, on our level. I thought you could use some jewelry. I thought you’d want one of these pieces.”
Uh. Okay.
“Orly, I like being one of the ‘regular people.’” I held my hand over my heart. “I’m happy. I don’t need a big house or a big ring. And I don’t need any of Mommy’s jewelry. Keep it. You were her favorite. I could never compete.”
“And you were the star. I could never compete.”
Interesting.
“Well, now, according to you, I’m one of the ‘regular people’ so—”
“I’m just saying, your grades. All your success. I was never good enough. And you always made me feel it. And she always bragged about you.”
“Who?”
“Mommy!” It came out in a shrill scream as she cried at the same time.
“She did?”
“Yes! To everyone.”
Who knew? When? Where? To who? I couldn’t ask now. Or maybe ever.
I touched her arm as she wiped her eyes. “Thank you,” I said.
“For what?” Orly asked through a stuffy nose.
“For bringing supplies to Ethan’s party.”
She removed her hand from her eyes to get a better look at me. “What?”
“And for trying to help me, you know, when I got drunk. And for just always being a good sister. For even wanting us to go on vacation with you to the shore. That was really nice of you to even ask. It’s nice that you want to spend time with me. Thank you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough. You’re a great sister, and mother too. And you were Mommy’s best friend. Thank you for that. She needed a friend. It’s good to have friends.” I hugged her.
And for the first time in our adult life, she cried on my shoulder, like friends do.