The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) (32 page)

“The boys already have it worked
out.
 
I don’t think it’s that
much.
 
They just haven’t discussed
it with me,” said Caroline.
 
She too
was now staring out onto the lake with Abby, each seeing nothing.

“Right,” said Abby.
 
“They’re good guys.”

“Yea, they are,” said Caroline.

* * *
* *

Abby carefully applied the mascara
that Caroline had shared with her.
 
She had not worn hers in so long, the tube had dried out.
 
How odd she felt to wear make up to a funeral
viewing.
 
Abby assessed herself in
the mirror.
 
The globe bulbs
surrounding the glass cast off an amber light that she thought made her appear
tan.
 
“Tan in winter,” she thought,
“and in a cocktail dress.”
 
The
black dress Abby wore was not a cocktail dress, though the dress was elegant,
perhaps she felt too elegant.
 
Abby
thought she appeared as if she were going to a fancy party.
 
She had even blown her hair out and she never
blew her hair out.
 
Abby turned to
her right and Caroline was standing in the door.
 
She was wearing a black dress and had
blown her hair out as well.
 
They
smiled girlish smiles at each other.

“You look silly,” said Abby.

“Not as silly as you look,” said
Caroline.
 
Caroline stepped up next
to Abby and peered intently into the mirror.
 
With the end of her finger, she rubbed
her eyebrows.

“You’re beautiful,” said Abby,
admiring her cousin in the mirror.
 
“I don’t want to do this.”

“Who would?
 
Are you ready?” asked Caroline.
 
“Brian has the car running.”

“Yea, sure.
 
As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two hugged each other tightly
again then went downstairs.
 
Caroline produced two winter shawls for them to put on.

“The way we’re dressed, we should
be going to dinner,” said Abby.

Caroline gave her another hug and
the two went to the waiting car.

* * *
* *

The Bennington Funeral Home was a
prominent funeral parlor in Fremont.
 
The Bennington family had run the business for generations and the
Bellens always used their services as a matter of tradition.
 
The Funeral Home was a large Victorian
House the size of a small mansion that sat on the corner of Second Avenue and
River Street, Second Avenue being the grand estate avenue of Fremont.
 
An ivy
branched
garden wall, naked in the cold, ran along River Street for almost the full block
concealing a parking lot behind.
 
There were several viewing rooms in the funeral home and at any time
there could be two or three families mourning a loved one there.
 
When Brian drove up to the home, both
sides of the street were already lined with cars and the three could see people
moving along the sidewalk and up the stairs into the building.

“The parking lot must already be
full,” said Caroline.

“It’s alright.
 
There’s a deli parking lot two blocks
up,” said Brian as he trolled the car passed Bennington’s.

“There must be a lot of viewings
tonight,” said Abby.

“I don’t think so,” said Caroline.

“They can’t all be there for…” Abby
drifted off.
 
She kept her gaze in
the direction of the funeral home, slowly turning her head back as the car
drove forward.

“Sure,” said Caroline.

Brian pulled the Subaru into the
parking lot and parked below a large lit sign that had a picture of a tubby boy
eating a long sandwich.
 
Brian
turned off the engine and he and Caroline stepped out of the car.
 
Abby stayed inside.
 
Over the top of the car Caroline arched
her eyebrows high at Brian.
 
Brian
nodded his head and shut his door, then without a word walked around the car
and opened Abby’s door.
 
Brian
reached in and took Abby’s hand to help her out of the car.

“Be careful on the ice hon,” said
Caroline.

Abby put her hand beneath Brian’s
arm and he walked her out of the lot and up the sidewalk.
 
Caroline led the way a step ahead of
them at an easy pace so that Abby would not get overwhelmed.
 
When they got to the bottom of the
wooden porch that wrapped around the front of the house Caroline stopped.
 
Abby let go of Brian’s arm and took
Caroline’s.

“Shall we,” said Abby.

“Let me get the door,” said Brian,
and he side stepped around the two to make his way up the porch to get the door
opened for them.

When the door opened the girls
could feel the flood of heat and were washed in a sweet floral smell that
permeated the funeral home.
 
The
interior of the foyer was classic Victorian in style with lush wallpaper in shades
of peach and pink.
 
Abby remembered
the room all too well.
 
Nothing had
changed since her last visit.
 
As
they stepped in they could hear low talking in the sitting room to their
right.
 
By the sound of the chatter
they could tell that a lot of people were in that room.
 
Abby stopped Caroline at the edge of the
French doors to the sitting room.
 
She could see the back of a dark suit and knew that the next step would
expose her to the visitors that had come to mourn and pay their respects.
 
Once Abby was exposed a chain of events
would be set off that would entail small talk and discussion and ultimately the
journey to the adjoining parlor where Abby knew there would be a coffin, a
coffin with yet another member of her family inside.
 
Her chest tightened and her breath was
short.
 
Abby felt something brush
her shoulder and was startled.
 
Brian was removing her shawl.
 
Abby turned her head to Brian then to Caroline and smiled.
 
The distraction was appreciated.
 
Abby took Caroline’s hand and squeezed,
then released and walked into the sitting room.

The large sitting room was full
with people sitting on the sofas and chairs, and standing in every available
space.
 
All were talking amongst
themselves, sipping coffee, and eating cookies from silver trays in the
corners.
 
The reception could have
passed for a formal party with the attire and the décor except the theater was
not what was in the next room.

The people, mostly of her father’s
age, took notice to Abby and Caroline’s entrance.
 
The chatter dropped off to a silence as
all in the room looked in the direction of the black clad women at the
door.
 
Abby distinctly heard her
name whispered in a tone of pity in the back of the room paired with the
phrases, ‘poor girl’, ‘so beautiful’, and ‘so sad’.
 
The expressions on the faces of the
group were saddened smiles.
 
Abby
looked across the room and brightly greeted everyone.
 
“Hi everyone,” said Abby, as exuberant
as she could sound and still maintain an appropriate tone.
 
Immediately the expressions of grief lessened
and cheerfulness replaced them.
 
Murmur picked up again as she was greeted by old friends of the
family.
 
Abby heard other phrases
with her name that pleased her, like ‘she is so much like Emily’ and ‘her
parents would be so proud’.
 
Men and
women alike took their turn to pull her aside and offer condolences and
anecdotes from times years passed.

Caroline tried to stay near Abby’s
side yet she herself was pulled away after stepping into the room.
 
Caroline’s mother and father would not
be flying in until the morning, and in lieu of their presence she became their
proxy.

Abby smiled at each and every
mourner as they shared with her their joy for her father.
 
With each person the theme was common,
celebration not sadness.
 
So many
funny stories, Abby soon realized that she had not stopped smiling since she
entered the room, and people were still waiting their turn to speak with
her.
 
So many people, so many she
did not recognize, and more were coming through the door.
 
Abby could see that more people were
floating in then out, she did not know how all of these people were fitting in
the room.
 
Caroline touched her
shoulder and whispered in her ear, “You have to see this.”
 
Abby did not want to go.
 
Caroline eased her over to the parlor
doors.
 
Abby took a breath and
tightened her chest.
 
If the funeral
chamber were as she remembered, she expected to see with her father’s coffin
across the room to the right.
 
Abby
lifted her head and her eyes widened.
 
Abby did not see a coffin before her.
 
Rather, the partitions between three
viewing rooms had been removed creating one large room.
 
That large room was occupied with over a
hundred people.

“Oh my,” said Abby.

“Oh my, is right,” said
Caroline.
 
“I think we better go say
hello.”

* * *
* *

Abby and Caroline stepped into the
larger room and began the ritual again, condolences, stories, smiles, and
adoring kisses upon the cheeks.
 
Sometimes Abby would see Caroline and for a little while they would try
to hold conversations together.
 
Before too long they would be separated, having to wait for their
opportunity to get back together again.
 
Brian kept up a constant supply of coffee and did his best to seek out
Caroline if she had drifted too far to get back by herself.

Abby and Caroline were in the adjoining
rooms for quite some time before Abby saw the coffin in the far corner of the
last room.
 
What drew her attention
were large wreaths filled with white mums bordering the long dark polished
wooden box.
 
Abby could see that the
lid was up yet from the far side of the room could not see inside.
 
People sauntered up to the side, singly
and in couples, some crossing themselves, others holding vigil momentarily over
the coffin.
 
Occasionally someone
would reach inside to touch Will’s arm or hand or to place something next to
him.
 
Abby continued speaking to all
that approached her, keeping one eye on the corner of the room.
 
She stayed near the entrance of the room
and made no attempt to cross.

Caroline joined Abby in thanking
Mister and Missus Bauer for coming.
 
As the older couple stepped away Abby whispered into Caroline’s ear,
“Take me to the bathroom.”
 
The
bathrooms were downstairs by the main entrance.
 
To get to them they had to retrace steps
already covered, that wasn’t so hard, and nobody new was entering now to stop
them.
 
Caroline squeezed Abby’s
forearm and led the way back to the entrance excusing the two as they made
their way.
 
When they were in the
bathrooms Abby threw her arms around her cousin, “Thank you so much for being
here.”

“It’s alright Abby.
 
I’m always here for you,” said Caroline.

Abby asked, “Have you seen Will
yet?”

“I saw the coffin in the far corner
but I haven’t worked up the nerve to get close yet,” said Caroline.
 
“You’d know if I had though.
 
There would be no way I’d still be this
composed.”

“Well it’s inevitable,” said
Abby.
 
“Can you go with me to see
him?”

“Of course dear.
 
Just give me a minute to freshen up.”

Abby stepped out of the bathroom
ahead of Caroline.
 
She thought the
wallpaper in the hall tawdry with the pink background and deep red velvet
fleur-de-lis print.
 
How old that
paper must be she thought.
 
Abby
inspected the trim along the ceiling for faults of age, finding as she
expected, yellowing and bubbles from the old glue in a corner above a framed
picture of a bouquet in a vase.
 
This paper had been here in her teen years Abby remembered.

Caroline opened the door of the
bathroom and Abby turned toward the stairs.
 
Caroline touched her shoulder and
gestured toward the other end of the hall where a stairwell would lead them to
the other side of the house, the side of the house that held the entrance to
the viewing room where Will was in his coffin.

At the top of the stairs another
sitting room held a group of people, some Caroline and Abby had spoken to
prior.
 
Caroline and Abby were
focused in the direction of Abby’s father in the room beyond.
 
This time no one directly approached,
rather nods were shared with lightened brows of sympathy.
 
As the two entered the room Caroline
took the lead by holding her cousin’s arm once more.
 
This last section of adjoining rooms had
folding chairs lined up in rows back to the door with an aisle between them for
a direct path to the coffin.
 
When
those occupying the aisle saw Will’s daughter enter the room they stepped into
the rows clearing the aisle for her.
 
Caroline and Abby found the action strange though knew better than to
react inappropriately, besides, seeing the coffin at the end of the aisle
caused the girls to relinquish any comedy they may have found in the situation.
 
Abby’s jaw clenched and she reached for
Caroline’s hand on her arm.