An hour after I watched my husband\u2019s coffin disappear beneath a layer of dark earth, his daughter walked into my living room with a packet of pink sticky notes.<\/p>\n
I noticed them because they were absurdly bright against Diane\u2019s black funeral dress. For one confused second, I assumed she had brought them to label casserole dishes. People from church had filled my kitchen with enough ham, potatoes, rolls, and gelatin desserts to feed Frank\u2019s entire contracting crew from twenty years earlier.<\/p>\n
Then Diane peeled off the first note and pressed it onto my china cabinet.<\/p>\n
DIANE.<\/p>\n
I stared at it.<\/p>\n
She moved to the mantel and touched the walnut clock my mother had left me.<\/p>\n
Another pink square appeared beneath the brass face.<\/p>\n
DIANE.<\/p>\n
\u201cDiane,\u201d I said, \u201cwhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t even turn around.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust making things easier.\u201d<\/p>\n
My husband had been buried sixty-three minutes earlier.<\/p>\n
I knew because the kitchen clock said 1:48, and I had looked at my watch when the minister finished beside the grave at 12:45. Frank had been my husband for nineteen years. By sunrise that morning, I had thought the hardest thing I would ever do was stand beside his coffin and hear Pastor Dave speak about a man who would never again complain that I put too much cinnamon in the oatmeal.<\/p>\n
I had been wrong.<\/p>\n
Diane\u2019s brother Ross came through the hallway carrying a yellow tape measure.<\/p>\n
He hooked it across the television stand.<\/p>\n
\u201cFifty-eight,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Diane glanced over. \u201cThat\u2019ll fit.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked from one of them to the other.<\/p>\n
\u201cFit where?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross retracted the tape with a metallic snap.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy place.\u201d<\/p>\n
Behind him, neighbors and relatives pretended not to hear. Mrs. Hendricks, who had lived across the street for thirty-two years, froze with a deviled egg halfway to her mouth. My sister lowered the coffee pot she had been holding.<\/p>\n
I thought grief had confused me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would my television be going to your place?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross gave me the patient expression people use with children who have missed something obvious.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad\u2019s things have to be divided eventually.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat television is mine.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shrugged. \u201cDad watched it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane finally faced me.<\/p>\n
\u201cEileen, nobody wants to argue today.\u201d<\/p>\n
The remarkable thing was that she said this while holding a pad of labels she was using to claim my possessions.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not arguing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
She moved toward Frank\u2019s recliner.<\/p>\n
Pink note.<\/p>\n
DIANE.<\/p>\n
Ross immediately objected.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said you wanted the television.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can want both.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt won\u2019t fit in your den.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll move the bookcase.\u201d<\/p>\n
They discussed Frank\u2019s chair as though I had become invisible.<\/p>\n
I looked at the recliner.<\/p>\n
There was still a shallow depression in the seat cushion from the last afternoon Frank had been strong enough to sit there. His slippers remained beneath the footrest. I had not moved them because moving them felt like admitting he would never need them again.<\/p>\n
Diane had placed her name six inches above the worn patch where his hand used to rest.<\/p>\n
Something inside me became very still.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake that off.\u201d<\/p>\n
She glanced at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe note.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEileen\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTake your name off Frank\u2019s chair.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mouth tightened.<\/p>\n
Ross sighed dramatically.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is exactly why Dad should\u2019ve settled everything beforehand.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost told him that Frank had settled plenty.<\/p>\n
Three weeks earlier, while cancer reduced him to a thin man beneath white sheets, he had asked me a strange question.<\/p>\n
\u201cRed, if Diane and Ross come here after I\u2019m gone, what do you think they\u2019ll take first?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had been peeling an orange beside his bed.<\/p>\n
I thought he was joking.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour ugly brass bird.\u201d<\/p>\n
Frank smiled.<\/p>\n
The bird sat on our bookshelf, a ridiculous little thing with tarnished wings.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey wouldn\u2019t want that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNobody wants that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve tried throwing it away three times.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFour.\u201d<\/p>\n
His smile lasted another moment.<\/p>\n
Then he became serious.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat would they take?\u201d<\/p>\n
I put the orange aside.<\/p>\n
\u201cFrank.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHumor me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had looked around the bedroom.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, you do.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
I simply had not wanted to say it.<\/p>\n
Frank\u2019s children had spent years talking about his belongings as though inheritance were a reservation system.<\/p>\n
Ross liked the truck.<\/p>\n
Diane liked Frank\u2019s antique desk.<\/p>\n
Both wanted the lake property he had sold before his final illness.<\/p>\n
Neither had ever asked what I wanted.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ll probably argue,\u201d I admitted.<\/p>\n
Frank closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor making you deal with what I should have dealt with years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
I touched his wrist.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour children love you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
There had been sadness in his answer.<\/p>\n
Then he opened his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut loving somebody doesn\u2019t automatically make you decent to everyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered those words while Diane stood in my living room labeling furniture.<\/p>\n
She peeled the note from Frank\u2019s chair.<\/p>\n
For half a second, I thought she had listened.<\/p>\n
Then she pressed it onto the side table instead.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere.\u201d<\/p>\n
My sister made an angry sound.<\/p>\n
I caught her eye and shook my head.<\/p>\n
Not yet.<\/p>\n
Frank had told me something else during that conversation.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen they show you who they came to be, don\u2019t rescue them from it.\u201d<\/p>\n
At the time I thought morphine had made him philosophical.<\/p>\n
Now I wondered.<\/p>\n
Ross crossed toward the dining room.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad\u2019s silver?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTop drawer,\u201d Diane said.<\/p>\n
I stepped in front of him.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are not opening my drawers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOur father bought that silver.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother gave it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross looked at Diane.<\/p>\n
Diane rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is going to take forever.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt grief change shape.<\/p>\n
It had been heavy all morning, something I carried behind my ribs.<\/p>\n
Now it acquired an edge.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat exactly do you believe is happening here?\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane folded her arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re trying to prevent problems later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBy putting your name on my mother\u2019s clock?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes flicked toward the mantel.<\/p>\n
For the briefest instant, something crossed her face.<\/p>\n
Not embarrassment.<\/p>\n
Alarm.<\/p>\n
It vanished quickly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know that was hers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou never asked.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, now I know.\u201d<\/p>\n
She reached toward the clock.<\/p>\n
I moved first.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t touch it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her hand stopped.<\/p>\n
The room had gone quiet.<\/p>\n
Diane looked at me differently then.<\/p>\n
For nineteen years, I had tried to make peace with her.<\/p>\n
I had swallowed jokes about being Frank\u2019s \u201csecond attempt.\u201d I had accepted Christmas invitations where my place card appeared at the far end of the table. I had listened while Ross referred to our house as \u201cDad\u2019s place\u201d even though my name was on the deed.<\/p>\n
Frank saw more of it than I wanted him to see.<\/p>\n
I defended his children because I knew it hurt him when they behaved badly.<\/p>\n
That afternoon, I no longer had a reason to protect him from the truth.<\/p>\n
He already knew it.<\/p>\n
Maybe he had known it better than I did.<\/p>\n
Ross broke the silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook, Eileen, you\u2019ll obviously keep whatever you need.\u201d<\/p>\n
My sister\u2019s eyebrows rose.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever she needs?\u201d<\/p>\n
He ignored her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s no reason one person needs an entire house full of Dad\u2019s things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne person?\u201d<\/p>\n
He gestured vaguely around the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI think I finally do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane gave him an irritated look, apparently deciding he was handling me badly.<\/p>\n
She softened her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cEileen, we\u2019re grieving too.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her black dress.<\/p>\n
At the perfect makeup she had reapplied between the cemetery and my house.<\/p>\n
At the pink notes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you understand why we want something of Dad\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you had asked for something meaningful, I might.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt means you measured my television before you asked whether I was all right.\u201d<\/p>\n
His cheeks reddened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s unfair.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nobody answered.<\/p>\n
From somewhere behind us, Pastor Dave quietly set down his coffee.<\/p>\n
Diane exhaled.<\/p>\n
\u201cFine. We should have waited.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut the estate still has to be handled.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Dad\u2019s property has to be identified.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked relieved.<\/p>\n
Then I added, \u201cBy the executor. With the legal documents. Not by you with office supplies.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Hendricks coughed into her napkin.<\/p>\n
Ross glared toward her.<\/p>\n
Diane\u2019s face hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou always do this.\u201d<\/p>\n
I blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAct innocent.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was an old accusation in her voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou spent nineteen years making Dad think we were unreasonable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never needed to.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face flushed.<\/p>\n
\u201cSee?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not fighting with you at Frank\u2019s funeral reception.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen stop treating us like thieves.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the labels.<\/p>\n
Ross looked at his tape measure.<\/p>\n
My sister muttered, \u201cIf the shoe fits.\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane ignored her.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad wanted us taken care of.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe did.\u201d<\/p>\n
That answer surprised her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou admit it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross stepped closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why are you making this difficult?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause being taken care of and taking things are not the same thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his mouth.<\/p>\n
Before he could answer, the doorbell rang.<\/p>\n
Nobody moved immediately.<\/p>\n
Then my sister said, \u201cI\u2019ll get it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered Frank\u2019s final week.<\/p>\n
He had asked whether the front lock still stuck.<\/p>\n
He had asked whether the brass bird had been dusted.<\/p>\n
He had asked me to promise I would hold the funeral reception at home instead of the church hall.<\/p>\n
At the time, none of those requests seemed connected.<\/p>\n
Now the doorbell rang again.<\/p>\n
My sister opened the door.<\/p>\n
A man in a gray suit stood on the porch holding a black briefcase.<\/p>\n
He was perhaps fifty, with silver at his temples and the composed expression of someone arriving exactly when expected.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Eileen Mercer?\u201d<\/p>\n
I raised my hand slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stepped inside.<\/p>\n
Diane\u2019s face changed.<\/p>\n
Ross\u2019s did too.<\/p>\n
They recognized him.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
The man looked around my living room.<\/p>\n
His gaze passed over the funeral flowers.<\/p>\n
Then the sticky notes.<\/p>\n
Then Ross\u2019s tape measure.<\/p>\n
Something almost like confirmation appeared in his eyes.<\/p>\n
He closed the door behind him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name is Aaron Bell.\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane whispered, \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Aaron looked directly at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He set his briefcase beside Frank\u2019s recliner.<\/p>\n
Then he turned to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Mercer, your husband instructed me to arrive at precisely two o\u2019clock if certain events occurred after his funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the clock.<\/p>\n
1:59.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat events?\u201d<\/p>\n
Aaron\u2019s gaze returned to the pink note on my mother\u2019s clock.<\/p>\n
The minute hand clicked forward.<\/p>\n
Two o\u2019clock.<\/p>\n
He answered quietly.<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly these.\u201d<\/p>\n
An hour after I watched my husband\u2019s coffin disappear beneath a layer of dark earth, his daughter walked into my living room with a packet of pink sticky notes. I … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":19772,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-19773","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19773","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=19773"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19773\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19808,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19773\/revisions\/19808"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/19772"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=19773"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=19773"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=19773"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}