I'd've liked to have said it and more, but I bit it all back—out of respect for my parents, and Aunt Lynore and Uncle Mitch—and Matt's memory. Yapping off would only make them sigh all the more at how thoroughly Matt had corrupted me.
So, I extricated myself from her viselike hold . . . only to be instantly embraced by Aunt Wanda's bony arms. No bosom at all to cushion sorrows. And her prosaic utterances didn't make up for it, either. Logic doesn't help at such an emotional time. Plenty of people don't realize that . . . nor ever know how much salt they've rubbed into a wound because they don't.
But . . . for all those reasons I hadn't told Aunt Willa to shut up, I tolerated Aunt Wanda's show of affection as well. Or whatever it was. They were family after all . . .
Although . . . this blood is thicker than water stuff seemed like double talk to me. When I'm thirsty, give me a drink of water! I had friends who'd be there for me quicker than most of my relatives. No questions. No finger pointing.
At length, they released us, and linking arms, they refocused on those in the mourning line. I glanced over at Aunt Lynore and my mom, feeling exquisite pity for them to have to endure a second round with those two. But, then, an acquaintance of theirs snagged my aunts' notice, and engaged them in some chatter that presently had nothing to do with Matt, or any of us, so Mom and Aunt Lynore gained a decent respite.
"Good grief," I heard Turdy utter to Wendy, "Behold—The Whale and The Eel! Those two look more like twins!" Meaning Lanette and me.
"A whole lot prettier, too!" murmured Uncle Todd, not censoring him for saying anything so disrespectful, nor Wendy for laughing.
"Ooo, a compliment!" I uttered to Lanette. "I'm gonna faint!"
But Uncle Todd was wrong. The Whale and the Eel were as identical as they could be-inside! They saw things out of the same eyes—even though one pair's hazel, and the other's mud brown! Had tongues as sharp as butcher knives, too, and hearts about as indifferent as a dreary November day!
I said so to Lanette and concluded, "Looks don't mean a thing! They're twins no question!"
"Joleigh—Gramma Kate's looking at you!"
"Ah, so what? Everyone tolerates them and each other just for appearances! Makes me nuts!"
My uncles, Ralph and Aldo, stood away from us all, not putting any limits on their busybody spouses. They weren't the ones wearing the pants in their families, that's for sure! Ralph, a beanpole type, claimed Aunt Willa as his, while Aldo, somewhat stouter, had married Wanda. We always figured they'd've made great cartoon characters, the four of 'em!
Uncle Aldo caught my eye, and he gave me a smile and a little wink. Uncle Ralph smiled too, and might have come over to chat a second had not Frankie, Tina's husband, joined them.
How nice Frankie got along with his in-laws-more or less. He even called Aunt Willa, Ma.
I'm sure I couldn't hear myself calling Mrs. Woodworth anything but Mrs. Woodworth. No warm feelings were ever likely to flow between us. Just a wary apprehension on my part, and a cool tolerance on hers!
One of the smaller groups disbanded, giving me a better view of those who made up the mourning line. Aunt Lynore's dark blue pantsuit emphasized her pallor. She seemed so very frail just then. Her gaze seemed to be intent on Jace and Irvy, who remained apart from the rest of us. Jace, in stunned angry silence, acting like the whole world was to blame for Matt's death and not Matt himself. Irvy stood by Jace's seat, not trying to engage him in any conversation—just being there for him. While Irvy didn't display quite the same attitude, he did give the impression of wanting to be left alone.
Couldn't blame either one. Weren't many here who knew how to be tactful and truly comforting to us.
Aunt Lynore abruptly swung around to grab my mother and weep upon the shoulder of Mom's hunter green blazer. Mom spoke soothingly to her, letting her freely soak it. Catching my glance, she sent me an encouraging smile which I answered with a rueful one. Her gaze then searched out Jace and Irvy's corner. It appeared to me that Mom's sadness seemed to deepen, get sort of wistful when she watched Irvy. Kind of the same way Aunt Lynore's had just now.
I supposed they probably were recalling the very first time Irvy showed up at Aunt Lynore's front door. Uncle Mitch told that story a lot.
Irvy'd only been two years old when he snuck out of his house and trotted cross lots to ask if Matt could come out and play. When they asked him how he'd known Matt lived there, he'd answered matter of factly, "I see a boy playing when we go by his house. I say, he's my friend! I go find him, that's all." As for how he knew how to find him, well, that's still a mystery. Even if you asked him now, he'd just shrug and say, "Just did, that's all."
Dr. Woodworth, Sr. phoned my aunt and invited the whole family to dinner-not necessarily with Mrs. Woodworth's blessing. Irvy's dad ended up admiring Matt's spunk—was actually proud his own son had shown some. Thought Irvy should get dirty like a real boy ought to, and that Matt was just the one he ought to do it with. Moreover, he had been favorably impressed with Aunt Lynore and Uncle Mitch. Figured if they could handle their hyper son at a stranger's house without losing their cool, they were quite worthy of watching over his son, too. Arranged for the boys to get together so Irvy wouldn't be walking the streets alone, anymore.
Mrs. Woodworth didn't want the hassle of looking out for Matt, so Irvy always went to Aunt Lynore's. Or sometimes the two mothers would meet at the rec center playground so Mrs. Woodworth had some assurance her precious son wasn't being bullied or led into criminal mischief by Matty. Guess her attitude toward my aunt was pretty much the way it was toward me—cool but civil. Her wall of reserve never came down.
Mom and Aunt Lynore would have the same memories, for they've always been really close. They genuinely loved kids, and they'd often sat for each other—even for all the trouble we'd all cause sometimes. Both had stood up to Mrs. Woodworth in our defense-Matt's and mine—oh, countless times. Which was never an enviable task. The Club's accusations and opinions you could ignore—more or less. Mrs. Woodworth's stare and cool hauteur was something else altogether.
Mom's glance came back to Matt lying as if he were napping in the casket. She bit trembling lips, but her tears flowed anyway, and she hugged Aunt Lynore tighter.
Uncle Mitch and Dad maintained stoic fronts beside them, giving out tight smiles and firm handshakes. But I'd seen Uncle Mitch sob earlier at home. There was a lost kind of look in his eyes. And he couldn't gaze at the body in the coffin for longer than an instant or two. I guess that's how Dad would look if it were Jace or Jarrett.
My aunts' friend, finally through bending their ears, waved a general goodbye to all gathered there and left. Aunt Willa and Aunt Wanda converged upon the mourning line. My grandparents Merriwether left it. Guess once was enough for them!
"Ah, Lynore—JuliAnna! How are you two holding up? Must be comforting for you, Lynore, that so many have shown up tonight! He was well liked, wasn't he, dear?" As if it were some kind of miracle.
However, as if their true feelings about Matt didn't matter, Aunt Lynore surrendered to their insincere embraces, accepting their further condolences at face value. Not only theirs, but anyone else's besides, whatever their opinion of Matt was. Pretty forgiving of her!
This hypocritical routine was pretty much the same at every funeral. Soon's the last respects duty was performed and the line traversed, these meddling judges of the family assembled to begin diatribes or reassembled to continue where they'd left off.
Wasn't anything different about tonight.
Aunt Becky was sighing now, "Oh, but I feel so sorry for Lynore and Mitch! Their only boy!" As if Matty had had a dozen sisters instead of just Lanette.
"Next it's going to be Jorden and JuliAnna's only girl ending up dead in some unfortunate manner! Well—unless something happens to poor little Jaimee first!" proclaimed Aunt Willa, edging back in between her and Wendy. "Lord A'mighty, that Joleigh and Matt should've been brother and sister—and Lanette and Jace! Hard to think of Jace and Joleigh as twins!"
"Oh, please . . .!" Lanette moaned. "Listen to who's making the comparison!"
Guess Gramma Grace Merriwether felt the same way. I heard her mutter to someone in her group, "I've been often thankful for the miracle that made sure the children would be Merriwether blue eyed redheads! None of 'em too fat nor bony—nor ill-tempered!" I glanced back in time to see her sweep a telling glance the length of my imperfectly shaped, disagreeable Kelmann aunts. Somehow, she forgot that Uncle Todd and Aunt Dorene were the dark haired, chubby, disagreeable flaws in the Merriwether perfection.
"Well, if Irvyn Woodworth knows what's good for himself," declared Aunt Wanda, who either hadn't heard my grandmother at all, although she stood right behind her, or else she pretended she hadn't, "he ought to listen to his mother—marry someone else! He allies himself with Joleigh-Anna, his patients'll suffer horribly! Does she intend to keep racing without Matt now? Well, Irvyn'll be having to go with her to make sure she doesn't injure herself! Although-I think I could have accepted Matt's death better had he died in one of his precious rally cars! Or any of the others! Chicken, for God's sakes! Did you ever—?"
"Look at it this way, thanks to Matt's foolishness, Irvyn's gotten a respite!" Tina left a group of my older cousins to come join the one her mother reigned in. "Maybe he will reconsider marriage with her!"
"Oh, here we go," uttered Lanette, her eyes glinting angrily through her tears. "Like broken records they are!"
"Not as if we weren't expecting it," I reminded her. She sniffed in disgust.
Aunt Willa replied with conviction to Tina, "He should! He's always given in to Joleigh! What she wants, he gives her! He was as much a party to her crimes as Matt was! Did he ever tell her not to go off on these dangerous races with Matt? No! He gave her his blessing, and that was that! Who'd trust a man like that with their health and welfare? I doubt I could! Although his father was a saint when he was alive, and his uncle is! But," on a sorrowful sigh, "that's a different generation! In any case, all this has put off their plans for tomorrow, hasn't it? Might be the best thing that's happened, in that case!"
Cousin Tina poked her huge pregnant body even further into the center of things, and stated confidently, "Well, in any case, my child will never grow up to be like any of them! We won't allow it! We're going right by the book! Aren't we, Frankie?"
Frankie glanced over from beside Uncle Ralph and shrugged. "If that's what you want to do."
"There's a baby to pity!" I muttered.
"Oh, she's just saying that because she's still holding grudges against us for all the pranks we pulled on her—and for Irvy telling her he'd never trade you for a pumpkin like her back then! Such a crybaby! She hasn't lost that whining pouty voice, after all this time, either, has she?"
"Nope, and now that she's pregnant, her pumpkin body is even more round and—well . . . pumpkiny!" I eyed Tina cynically, and recited in a sing song tone, "Jelly Jelly Pumpkin Belly, fell in cow flop, now she's really smelly!"
The old rhyme conjured up the hilarious events of that day. Oh God . . . so funny watching Tina try to impress Irvy . . . picking him wildflowers in the meadow. Some of the cows were out in that field, and one of them looked just like Fritz, being one of his daughters. She took an interest in Tina's flower gathering and ambled over to check it out. Well, we couldn't resist . . . "Run! Run! Fritz is after you! Run! Quick!"
Tina turned as white as the daisy petals, and she took off without looking back. Didn't look where she was going, either. She slipped and slid for five minutes in the biggest cow pie out there, trying to keep her balance and get out of it. When she looked over her shoulder and saw the cow trotting up to her, Tina'd screamed, lost her footing altogether, and plop! Right into the putrid pile! Covered in ripely fresh poo, she lay there petrified while the cow munched the wildflowers right out of her hand. We'd rolled on the ground, breathless, sides splitting, tears streaming from laughter. Don't think she talked to us for six months after that!
Lanette, gasping on a guffaw, slapped her hand over her mouth again. Which attracted all kinds of embarrassing attention. Had to bite my own lips to keep from losing it myself.
"You idiot!" she flung at me, and sucked in her cheeks, trying not to look as if she were in hysterics. Didn't appear to help much. "Oh, man, that was sooo funny! She was sooo mad-! Such a killjoy she was, though . . .!"
"Gonna carry it into motherhood, too!" Then, striking a pose, I mimicked Tina's signature statement. "My mother says you guys're going to end up in jail someday!" Lanette doubled over in a fresh peal of laughter. I held her steady. "I'll go by the heart when I have kids. Forget the book!"
"M-me too!" between giggles. "But y-you're gonna p-pay for this, Joleigh-Anna!"
Aunt Nedra sent us a look of mild reproof mingled with deep sympathy. In her soft spoken way, she took it upon herself to explain our behavior to anyone interested—or not. "It's nerves, you know! They don't mean anything disrespectful! This is just too hard for everyone, and it's not the time to be talking like this, Willa! Matty's gone, and it's a loss to all of us! Maybe if we'd just been a little more understanding! You know, we never asked him to stay with us, Jed. Ted and Freddy got along with him rather well. If we'd just put ourselves out more . . ."
Uncle Jed, one of Dad's elder brothers, agreed. "We ought to get together more with everyone, anyway. Have a picnic or something once a year. Do something to keep in touch!"
"Dad—we have been getting together once a year. Someone's accommodated us for the past eight! Actually, Matt makes the second--no, the third--for this year! Good enough for me!" proclaimed Turdy, half in jest, half not.
"Theodore!" Aunt Nedra reproved as if he were ten. "Now that's just plain rude! A family get together would be a wonderful idea!"
Turdy, who never liked Matt, or any of the rest of us, despite what his mother thought, demanded, "What would we do at it? Sit around gabbing about the good old days? I've got a life, Ma! Why should I spent it at a dull boring family reunion or whatever? Got other things I'd rather be doing!" He pulled his latest love closer to his side, and waggled his brows at her suggestively. She giggled, and snuggled even closer to him.
Can't imagine what she saw in him. Such a self-centered sleazeball! The type who'd offer to trade five pennies for a dime with a toddler—like Jarrett—convincing the kid he had the better deal since he had more coins. Plus, this girl was much younger than he was. Younger than me, even! Must've gotten hooked on his looks. Was the only thing he had going for him!
"We all have a life, Ted," retorted Freddy curtly. "Unlike you and dear Aunt Dorene, some of us want more in it than just ourselves! Matt had a life! I should have put myself more into it when I had the chance! Too late, now, huh? Too late for Lawron, too! You know, we really never knew much of anything that was going on in his life. What happened to that drop dead gorgeous girl he was going to marry? Didn't even see much of her at his wake and funeral. What was up with that?" Thinking of someone else whose life he hadn't paid much attention to, he added, "Probably too late tonight to drive to Providence . . . see Jaimee."
Freddy walked away from them before anyone could reply. He flung a glance Jace's way, went over to grasp his hand, then Irvy's, said a few words of sympathy and regret, and then came to hug us girls quick-like and gruffly say, "I'm really sorry, guys! I wish—" He couldn't finish. He let us go, and without another glance at Matt or anyone else, he strode out of the building.
I've always liked Freddy okay. He'd never been anything like Tina or Turdy—always wanted to join in when he and his family came to visit. But his mother's overprotective ways nearly always put a damper on things. She rarely said no outright, but she'd take hours to bang it into his head of how to look out for dangers and not to do this, that or the other thing, or to do this, that, or the other—until we got sick of waiting for him and went off without him.
If her lectures hadn't ripped the heart from him, he'd try to find us. More often, though, we'd come back and find him bored to tears, kicking rocks around the driveway or sitting on the porch steps, his chin in his hands, looking sadly glum.
Guess we should've just snuck him off with us without asking anyone's permission for it. So what if Turdy or Tina told on us. They'd done that all the time, anyway. And, come to think of it, for all her stupid lectures, Aunt Nedra'd never been as disapproving as all our other aunts had been. Just too darned careful!
In fact, she hadn't been as disapproving as much as Mrs. Woodworth had been—on the occasions she'd happened to find out what we'd been up to. But Dr. Woodworth hadn't ever lost sleep over our antics, nor had he believed we kids would turn to a life of crime because of a few pranks or risky outings. Said it was just plain youthful silliness that growing up would cure. He'd bound up our cuts and set our broken bones, and then sent us out into the world for more!
He'd been a totally cool guy! Course, I would think that . . . he'd been looking forward to the day Irvy'd propose to me. To his wife's despair, I was his dream for his only son. Made me promise him the second dance at our wedding. But he'd died, unexpectedly, just after Irvy graduated. That'd been hard, and thinking of him made me miss him, too, as much as Matt, and the lump in my throat grew bigger. A few more tears of regret trickled down.
Mrs. Woodworth had come earlier to pay her respects, but hadn't stayed beyond the time it took to do it. Seeing me in the same room with Irvy simply stabbed her with many regrets. Maybe she didn't exactly show it, but I imagine she was relieved Matt would no longer be an influence in Irvy's life. One of her dreams had come true . . .
The last forty-five minutes of the wake dragged. People continued to disparage most of the things Matt had done, or that we'd done together with him; others dug into otherwise indifferent hearts to find something good to say about him. Regretting, like Freddy, they'd not taken enough time, or risked the censure, to do things with him.
Matt's particular buddies didn't linger. They felt uncomfortable in the presence of so much disapproval. Except Tippy Waldron and his new wife, Colleen. Tippy didn't listen to anyone's drivel. As a matter of fact, he treated them as if they weren't even there.
Which is the way some of Thomi Tollefson's family acted toward them, too, when they all came in. We'd been friends with them since they moved to Kingsdale and opened up the riding center there. Mom liked to ride, so she brought us over to check the new place out. We learned to ride at DreamWind and never went anyplace else. So, the lot of us, the triplets, Thomi, Rikki, and Halleigh, and their younger sister, Lyndsay, and Lanette and me, had hung around together. Their older brothers—Geoffrey, Nicky, Adrien, and Tristen—had joined Matt, Jace, and Irvy in plenty of excursions. Their temperaments had matched Matt's pretty closely. Although, Geoffrey'd been a little more like Irvy.
Still it was more cause for Mrs. Woodworth to shudder. The Tollefsons had been once a part of a small traveling circus. Only God knew what dangerous practices her precious son would learn from them! Like riding a galloping horse bareback—standing up.
Actually, Irvy got pretty good at it.
"Such a stinkin' shock!" uttered Tippy in his dramatic manner. "Man, he was on his way to making it big! We had a shot at the Nationals this year! Can't think of anyone else I wanted to team with!"
He put a long muscular arm about each of us, while maintaining a hold of Colleen's hand. Tippy helped us keep the cars in the best racing form. He was a dependable, friendly guy. Sometimes he'd navigated for Matt when I wasn't able to.
"Here, don't cry, Lanette! He'd hate to see you like this! I hate to see you like this! Dante should be here with you! Seems like he could've found someone else to take over that goat call! I mean, if he says he loves you, Lanette, he should be here with you! Where's Krista?"
"Tippy, Krista's a wreck and couldn't face it, and as for Dante, how could he turn his back on his neighbor's goat?" Lanette asked him. "The poor thing was badly mauled. He said he'd be here if he could be. I've got Joleigh—and now Thomi, Halleigh and Lyndsay are here! I'm fine!"
"Stephan, could have gone in his place!" Tippy shot a sharp accusing glance at Thomi, as if she ought to have made sure he had. "And how'd his family take the news he'd hired Dante to partner with him? They faint?" Tippy gave a derisive snort. "There's another snooty bunch—the Deverills! How'd you ever get mixed up with them, Thomasyna? Heard he wanted to dump you last night! Right in front of your adoring audience, too! Why was this—another of your mind boggling switches with—" He waved his hands at her and her sisters, wiggling his fingers as he did. "—your carbon copies, your clones? You'd all drive me to drink— No, drive me over a cliff, more like! I imagine, though, Jaimee'll be happy to hear you did her play after all!"
"I hope so. I risked everything to do it for her! As for you, you've nothing to fear," Thomi responded soothingly. "None of us want to date, marry, or otherwise get hooked up with you, Tiptoes. You're safe—more or less!" She grinned at his scowl of her audacious use of a nickname few got away with calling him. Thomi put an arm around Lanette then. "He and Stephan went together on this call. I would have gone in Dante's place, you know. Or Stephan's cousin Kourtnay might have. Only neither of the guys would let us. Stephan told me my place was here with you and Joleigh. So here I am. Look, whatever you think, Lanette, Dante cares about you. Believe him when he says so."
"Yeah, don't be like Thomasyna!" Halleigh advised. "Take too long coming to your senses, and he'll find someone else. Do you really want that?"
Lanette bit her lip. She didn't want it, but didn't want to admit it. Halleigh smiled, shook her head slightly, and reached out to tap Lanette's arm. "I hope you've enjoyed all those custom made cards he's given you! He's been my best customer lately! I can draw you in my sleep!"
"He's asked Rikki to come up with a love song for your wedding!" Lyndsay added. "Does this mean he's getting ready to ask you?"
"Oh, God! A love song? She didn't say she would, did she?" Lanette clasped Lyndsay's arm, her gaze begging her to say she hadn't. The amused gleam in Lyndsay's emerald eyes said she had.
While Lanette cared about Dante, she wasn't quite sure she felt the same way he did. He'd once promised to team up with Matt and me as one of our mechanics as Tippy had. But then he'd decided he'd rather doctor animals than cars and had gone to school for that instead. Don't think Lanette ever forgave him for that—don't think she was forgiving him now, whatever she said to Tippy.
Me, I'd be thrilled if Irvy asked Rikki to compose a love song for me. That'd be so cool, and soooooo romantic. He had commissioned Halleigh to create one of her exclusive cards for me from time to time, and we'd been to the Little Theater often enough to see Thomi perform in plays—when she wasn't off making a film someplace. Of course, then we'd go see her latest movie. But a song would be the ultimate prize—next to him actually saying "I love you," that is! I mean, I knew he did, but it'd be the topper if he could say the words, too!
I'm afraid that my jealousy of Dante's earnest romanticisms made me want to blubber some more. That I could ask Rikki to write a song for Irvy only came to my mind later. She didn't happen to be with her family today. Having had enough of trying to guess which triplet he was with lately, Stephan had shipped her off, Monday morning, to New York to make it easier for himself this week. Of course, he'd thought, at the time, he'd been getting rid of Halleigh.
So Rikki hadn't been home, then, when I had called Cliff Top right after I heard about Matty's accident. No doubt her sisters had phoned her later on to let her know.
Tippy let go Colleen's hand to rap my cheek smartly. "Come on, Little Jo! Puffy eyes don't become you! All of you, c'mon, let's remember the good times!"
Colleen slipped her hand back into Tippy's. "How can they, Tippy? Joleigh and Irvy were supposed to get married tomorrow, remember? Matt was supposed to be Irvy's best man!"
He smacked his forehead with the flat of his hand. "Ah! That's right! Bummer!" And he hugged me, kissing the top of my red hair. "I'm gonna get Irvy over here," he told me. "You need him. I'd never let Colleen go through something like this alone! Not that I feel Jace should be deserted-but you know . . . you're a woman! They should both be with you!"
And with that, Tippy, with Colleen clasped to his side, went off to tell my brother and my fiancé what he thought of their thoughtlessness in leaving us "all alone". Guess he felt our friends weren't strong enough to help bear our sorrows.
I knew that Colleen hadn't meant to stir up any hurt as Aunt Willa had earlier. Not sure how I let Aunt Willa's dig get by me. Hadn't wanted to think about it, I guess. I'd spent the last three days trying not to think about tomorrow. So close to being with Irvy forever. This was something else that no doubt his mother was thanking her lucky stars for-the postponement of our wedding! Whoa! Wouldn't she hate it if he ever asked Rikki for a love song for me!
In any case, instead of Matt standing at Irvy's side as his best man, Irvy would make up one of the pallbearers at Matt's funeral tomorrow afternoon. Discussing new plans just hadn't fit into any conversation. Everything was pretty much left up in the air. Not many had mentioned it openly, either. Those who had were genuinely interested in our future together, that is. The others, like Aunt Willa, (and Mrs. Woodworth), were, without doubt, hoping we'd forget about it or drift apart now Matt wasn't there.
Tippy had a slight problem dislodging Irvy from Jace's side, but he hit an even bigger wall with my brother who scowled and hunched away from him. Irvy glanced across, gave in to my imploring gaze and came over. Thomi, Halleigh, and Lyndsay moved to make room for him.
Taking me into a light embrace, he explained, "It's not that he doesn't want to be with you, it's just he doesn't know how to handle his grief. He really needs to let it out, but he can't. Not yet. He just needs someone to stay with him without expecting anything from him . . . . I don't know—maybe I do, too." Irvy took one arm away, and included Lanette in our comfort hug.
Which really didn't feel all that much of a comfort, really. I saw my friends exchange a glance among themselves, but whatever they were thinking, they kept it to themselves. Tippy and Colleen stayed with Jace. Not speaking, just providing a silent solace for him as Irvy had.
Okay, I understood Jace's trouble. I did, really. But I needed the warmth of a hug to console me and someone's ear to listen to the memories I wanted to live on forever. Thought that's what brothers, especially twin brothers-and fiances—were for. Thought that's what they'd need from me, too. I needed to feel Irvy's solid protection enveloping me. Wanted to feel his love for me. I felt lost without Matt, but without Jace, and definitely without Irvy, I'd be missing without a trace! I'd loved Irvyn since before I formed my first word. "Irby!"
We'd shared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with him, and he'd shared the cookies his mother would bake—so she wouldn't appear to be slighting. Irvy'd known best—thanks to his Dad—how to care for cuts and broken limbs until help arrived. How and when to treat us both like the girls we were—which Matt and Jace never seemed to learn. Seemed totally natural to me now, that he'd drape an arm about my cousin, and talk as gently to her as he did to me.
"I can't take any more of this!" uttered Lanette suddenly, ignoring everything Irvy had just said to her. "I can't listen to them yak about Matt and us, anymore! Although it'd make me sicker if they were crying over him the way they did over Uncle Claude back in April, and then over Lawron in June. Like they were their best buddies! No one ever liked Uncle Claude, anyway! I mean, Turdy should've been his son!"
She swept a disgusted gesture at The Club and those who'd since joined their group. "No one's going to want to follow through on any plan to keep in touch! It's all talk! They said all this at Uncle Claude's funeral, too, and at Lawron's! Nobody ever wanted Matt around—he was too wild—too crazy! Not serious enough for any of the Snoot Club! Irvy, tell my parents I want to go home!"
He didn't, but instead led our select little group away to a small alcove closed off from the left side of the room by a lattice partition by which potted trees and great vases of flowers had been placed.
Lanette dropped onto the sofa, and propped her head in her hands, and let her grief spill yet again. I'm not sure what Tippy said, but Jace came over and sat with her. But, unlike the rest of us, including our friends, his own tears he kept inside.
Aunt Nedra slipped into our group to offer some of her gentle, coaxing words of comfort, which only grated Lanette's nerves and mine, and set Jace's jaw in a grimmer line. Frankly, we were tired of hearing that Matt was now in a better place in any tone of voice.
Why would God need to call people of any age to become angels? How many did he need, after all, if he already had myriads? Besides—how could she be so sure that's where he was, when the rest of The Club felt positive he was rotting and burning in Hell! Or was he the first person to be residing in two places at once?
I didn't think he was in either place, frankly. Dead is dead. No roses in winter.
Not many had planned to show up for our wedding tomorrow. At the time, I hadn't cared. Simply and only cared about being Irvy's forever. Now, however, a burning desire to celebrate the double anniversaries of my parents' and Lanette's in a huge way swelled within me—yeah, and my wedding . . . whenever it finally took place. How any of it would come about, actually, I had no more a clue than I had three months ago. I only knew a profound determination to get everyone together to celebrate something positive and happy!
You know—like LIFE.
This keen notion suddenly got cut off when a small body hurled itself at my knees. Irvy kept me standing; I'd've fallen for sure otherwise! "Jarrett! Where'd you come from? You're supposed to be with the Marshals! How'd you get here?"
"I sneaked out," he declared stoutly. "And I d'wanna go back. Why's Matty sleepin' in that funny lookin' bed, Joleigh? How come he's sleepin' when all the buddies are here?" All the buddies was his four-year-old way of saying everybody. "How come he d'wanna play with me? Make him get up, Joleigh! Make him!"
Oh, geez . . .! We'd already tried to explain to him that Matt wouldn't be playing with any of us anymore. But he hadn't gotten the message very well . . . or at all. I picked him up, hugging him tightly, and tried again to make him understand.
"Jarrett, look--everybody's here because Matty's not ever getting out of that funny looking bed. They're here to say goodbye to him, even though he can't hear any of us. Remember when Nikki died—you remember? The car hit her, and we all said goodbye to her when we buried her under the tree behind our house?"
Halleigh ruffled his red curls. "We all came for that, remember, Squirt? You had us sing doggy songs for her."
He pouted; he remembered. And it set off his mourning in great shape. He yanked the collar of my blouse, his tears breaking like a sudden cloudburst. "I didn't want her to die! She was my dog! I got no dog now! I got no Matty now! Make him get up! Make him!"
"Ah, Jarrett . . ." I hugged him closer, tried to calm him with soft words and kisses. It didn't work, and in the end, I just cried with him.
"This is how Jaimee would be if she were here," Lanette uttered, her own tears gathering again. "If she knew—"
No one had told her yet. She'd thrown way too horrible a fit when she'd thought Thomi'd deserted her. How would she take hearing about Matty's death? Thomi had defied Stephan's wishes and her doctors orders in order to appear in that play last night for Jaimee. But Matty wouldn't be defying anyone. He'd be in that casket forever now.
Uncle Ralph, on his way to his first attempt at dragging Aunt Willa away, saw Jarrett sobbing in my arms and came over. "What's the trouble, little man?"
"I want my Matty," declared Jarrett-Andrew, defiant through his tears. He raised his head with new hope. "Get him up, Uncle Ralph! Make him laugh! I wanna ride in the Soup Beetle!"
"Little man, if I could, I would. But listen, how would it be if I took you out on my boat sometime, eh? We could do a little fishing."
Jarrett brightened a little. Until he remembered that Matt couldn't go with him. It set off his howls afresh. Looked like one of us would have to take him out of here. He'd probably only get worse.
Was a nice gesture on Uncle Ralph's part to offer to take him fishing, though. Trouble was, sometime could be any time.
