Sixty-three minutes after my husband was lowered into the ground, his daughter put her name on my mother\u2019s clock.<\/p>\n
I remember the number because grief had made me strangely attentive to time. Pastor Dave had finished the graveside prayer at 12:45. At 1:48, I was standing in my living room watching Diane Mercer peel a bright pink square from a pad of sticky notes.<\/p>\n
She pressed it beneath the brass face of the walnut mantel clock.<\/p>\n
DIANE.<\/p>\n
For several seconds, I simply stared. The color looked ridiculous among the funeral flowers, dark dresses, untouched coffee, and plates of food neighbors had brought to the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cDiane,\u201d I said. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
She barely glanced at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaking things easier.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor whom?\u201d<\/p>\n
Instead of answering, she crossed to the china cabinet and attached another note.<\/p>\n
Her name again.<\/p>\n
Behind her, mourners shifted uncomfortably. Mrs. Hendricks stopped chewing. My sister, standing beside the coffee urn, narrowed her eyes but said nothing.<\/p>\n
Then Ross appeared from the hallway carrying a tape measure.<\/p>\n
Frank\u2019s son crouched beside the television stand, hooked the metal end across one edge, and stretched the tape to the other.<\/p>\n
\u201cFifty-eight inches,\u201d he announced.<\/p>\n
Diane studied it. \u201cThat should work.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWork where?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Ross let the tape snap back into its case.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy den.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the television. Frank and I had bought it together four years earlier after our old one developed a green stripe across every face. The receipt was probably still in the kitchen drawer.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would my television be going into your den?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross gave me a puzzled look, as though I had misunderstood something elementary.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll have to divide Dad\u2019s property sooner or later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat television is mine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe used it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo did I.\u201d<\/p>\n
He shrugged.<\/p>\n
That small movement did more than his words. My husband had been dead less than two hours, and already I was apparently required to prove ownership of objects inside my own home.<\/p>\n
Diane walked toward Frank\u2019s recliner.<\/p>\n
I saw the sticky note in her fingers before she placed it.<\/p>\n
The chair still held the shape of him.<\/p>\n
Frank had spent his final months losing weight faster than either of us wanted to acknowledge. During his last afternoon downstairs, he had sat in that recliner beneath a blanket while sunlight moved across the carpet. His slippers were still tucked beneath the footrest.<\/p>\n
Diane pressed her name near the armrest.<\/p>\n
Something inside me hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake it off.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked around.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour note. Remove it from Frank\u2019s chair.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross sighed. \u201cEileen, please.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNobody needs this today.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
Diane was labeling my furniture, Ross was measuring my television, and somehow I was the person creating unpleasantness.<\/p>\n
Diane reluctantly peeled away the note.<\/p>\n
For one hopeful second, I thought embarrassment had finally reached her.<\/p>\n
Then she stuck it onto the side table.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere.\u201d<\/p>\n
Three weeks earlier, Frank had been lying upstairs beneath clean white sheets when he asked me an odd question.<\/p>\n
\u201cRed, when 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 the bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour hideous brass bird.\u201d<\/p>\n
A weak smile crossed his face.<\/p>\n
The bird sat on our bookshelf, an ugly little brass thing with one crooked wing.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey don\u2019t want that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNobody wants that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou tried throwing it away.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFour times.\u201d<\/p>\n
His smile disappeared.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat will they want?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had known what he meant. For years, his children had discussed his belongings as though inheritance were merely delayed possession.<\/p>\n
Ross wanted the truck.<\/p>\n
Diane wanted Frank\u2019s antique desk.<\/p>\n
Both had complained when he sold the lake property instead of preserving it for them.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ll argue,\u201d I finally admitted.<\/p>\n
Frank closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor raising stubborn children?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor leaving you to deal with something I should have handled years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
I touched his wrist.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey love you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
The sadness in his voice had unsettled me.<\/p>\n
Then he opened his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cLove doesn\u2019t automatically teach people how to treat everyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n
Standing in my living room after his funeral, I finally understood why he had said it.<\/p>\n
Ross headed toward the dining room.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s Dad\u2019s silver?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStop.\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are not opening drawers in my house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOur father bought that silver.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother gave it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane rolled her eyes. \u201cThis could take all afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n
Grief changed shape inside me.<\/p>\n
Until then it had been a weight, enormous but dull.<\/p>\n
Now it developed edges.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat exactly do the two of you think is happening?\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane folded her arms.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re trying to prevent arguments later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBy claiming my mother\u2019s clock?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes darted toward the mantel.<\/p>\n
For an instant I saw something unexpected.<\/p>\n
Not embarrassment.<\/p>\n
Fear.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know it was hers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t ask.\u201d<\/p>\n
She reached toward the clock.<\/p>\n
I stepped between them.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room quieted.<\/p>\n
Nineteen years of swallowed insults seemed to gather behind that single word. I had endured jokes about being Frank\u2019s second attempt at marriage. I had attended holidays where I was treated like an invited stranger. Ross still called this house \u201cDad\u2019s place,\u201d although my name was on the deed.<\/p>\n
I tolerated it because Frank loved them.<\/p>\n
He knew more than I admitted.<\/p>\n
Perhaps he knew everything.<\/p>\n
Ross broke the silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cObviously you\u2019ll keep what you need.\u201d<\/p>\n
My sister finally spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat she needs?\u201d<\/p>\n
He ignored her.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne person doesn\u2019t need an entire house full of Dad\u2019s possessions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne person?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross waved vaguely.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cI believe I finally do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane changed tactics.<\/p>\n
Her voice softened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe lost our father today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe want things that remind us of him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you had asked me for something meaningful, we could have discussed it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou measured my television before asking how I was doing.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face reddened.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn\u2019t fair.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIsn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Nobody answered.<\/p>\n
Diane finally exhaled.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right. We should have waited.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut the estate still has to be settled.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Dad\u2019s property has to be identified.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
She seemed encouraged until I continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cBy the executor, using legal documents. Not by you two wandering through my house with sticky notes and a tape measure.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Hendricks hid a cough behind her napkin.<\/p>\n
Diane\u2019s expression hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou always do this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPretend you\u2019re innocent. You spent nineteen years convincing Dad that Ross and I were unreasonable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI never had to convince him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her cheeks flushed.<\/p>\n
\u201cSee? That.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI will not fight with you during your father\u2019s funeral reception.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen stop acting like we\u2019re stealing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her pink labels.<\/p>\n
Then at Ross\u2019s tape measure.<\/p>\n
Neither of them followed my eyes.<\/p>\n
Diane lifted her chin.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad wanted us taken care of.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe did.\u201d<\/p>\n
My agreement surprised her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why are you making this difficult?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause being taken care of is not the same as helping yourself to someone else\u2019s belongings.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ross stepped toward me.<\/p>\n
Before he could speak, the doorbell rang.<\/p>\n
My sister went to answer it.<\/p>\n
Suddenly I remembered several peculiar things Frank had asked during his final week.<\/p>\n
Whether the front-door lock still stuck.<\/p>\n
Whether I had dusted the brass bird.<\/p>\n
Whether I would promise to hold the reception here rather than at church.<\/p>\n
At the time, the questions seemed like fragments from a dying man\u2019s wandering attention.<\/p>\n
Now I wasn\u2019t sure.<\/p>\n
My sister opened the door.<\/p>\n
A silver-haired man in a gray suit stood outside carrying a black briefcase.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Eileen Mercer?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He entered.<\/p>\n
Diane\u2019s face drained of color.<\/p>\n
Ross stopped moving.<\/p>\n
They knew him.<\/p>\n
I did not.<\/p>\n
The stranger studied the room: funeral lilies, half-empty cups, pink labels, Ross\u2019s tape measure.<\/p>\n
His expression barely changed.<\/p>\n
Yet I had the distinct impression that he had just found exactly what he expected.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name is Aaron Bell.\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane whispered, \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Aaron looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He placed his briefcase beside Frank\u2019s recliner.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Mercer, your husband instructed me to arrive here at precisely two o\u2019clock if certain things occurred after his funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n
The mantel clock clicked.<\/p>\n
2:00.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat things?\u201d<\/p>\n
Aaron looked at the pink square bearing Diane\u2019s name.<\/p>\n
Then at Ross.<\/p>\n
Then at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly what I see in this room.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sixty-three minutes after my husband was lowered into the ground, his daughter put her name on my mother\u2019s clock. I remember the number because grief had made me strangely attentive … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":24866,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24867","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\/24867","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=24867"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24867\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24902,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24867\/revisions\/24902"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/24866"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=24867"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=24867"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=24867"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}