The crowd chuckled at that.
“A workaholic through and through, Leonard did truly consider his work to be his baby and his coworkers to be his family. As the last living of his siblings, he was well loved by his nieces and nephews and their families. He is survived by his bird, Patrick, and an unwieldy collection of houseplants.”
There was a sniffle from the front row, and I felt my own throat tightening as the silence held for a minute to signify that the eulogy was over. But before anyone could clap, Leonard folded his paper and looked up at the crowd. “I think as a writer, there’s the expectation that I should come up here and give you all some nugget of wisdom—some indelible truth—that you can carry with you from this day on. But the more words I write, the more I realize that words are at a surplus. We talk so much. We say so much. There comes a time when we trick ourselves into believing that saying is doing. But that’s not true, is it? So, I suppose my nugget of wisdom is this: Do. Fail. And then do again. Words to live by are just that: words. They mean nothing if you’re not waking up every morning and living. I don’t say this because I mastered the art of living. I say this because I didn’t. And hey”—he winked—“maybe after I’m gone fromthis earth, you will come a few steps closer than I ever did.” He took a deep breath. “Oh! Always ask for a producer credit, never trust a plastic surgeon whose practice is in a strip mall, and sleep naked at least once a week.”
The applause was immediate and beside me Gwen murmured, “He’s not wrong about those last three.”
“Thank you, Leonard, for putting my sermon to shame,” the minister said.
“With pleasure!” Leonard barked back as he took his seat.
With a grin and a shake of her head, the minister continued. “At this time, I would like to open the podium up to those who might like to say a few words about Leonard.”
Leonard’s spine was rigid, his gaze trained straight ahead on his coffin.
A quiet moment passed, and I almost forced myself out of my seat. I had no idea what I would say, but someone had to say something.
Then, to my surprise, Ruby braced herself on my knee and stood up. It took her a moment to wriggle past the other residents, who were slow to move out of her way. “Allow me,” she said as she finally stepped into the aisle.
Leonard turned back, his face full of trepidation and just a pinch of relief.
The minister smiled at Ruby as she stepped behind the podium and readjusted the microphone to her liking.
She took in her audience, and I watched as she became that heightened version of herself. It was Ruby, but bigger. More confident. More sultry. It was the Ruby you would meet at an audition or in an interview, and it was the Ruby I hadn’t seen in quite some time.
“Let me be the first to say that Leonard is the second biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”
You could feel the oxygen being sucked out of the room. The minister froze.
Ruby leaned into the microphone, holding her pause for the perfect amount of time. “Second only to me.”
Then Leonard choked out a laugh and everyone else followed.
Ruby smiled. “Leonard and I have been in each other’s orbit for overfifty years. The first thirty or so years were great.” She turned to Leonard. “They really were.”
He nodded in agreement.
“And then there was a man. There’s always a goddamn man, isn’t there?”
Someone in the audience hooted.
“I won’t share the specifics, because I like being the center of gossip and if you all knew the truth, there wouldn’t be anything mysterious left to gossip about, but trust me when I say that the details are salacious.”
“Can’t let one of these fools sell the rights to our life story before we can,” Leonard called.
“Now, that’s the Leonard I have known and loved,” Ruby said. She looked down at the podium for a minute before tilting her chin back up, her expression more serious now. “Leonard and I put down our Starlight Palms deposits at the same time with big plans to be next-door neighbors. When I moved in and found that our long-forgotten request had been honored, I was prepared to hitchhike back to LA. I’d like to tell you this story has a happy ending, but it doesn’t. Not yet, at least. Because since the moment I moved in, we have bickered and feuded for no other reason than to wreak havoc on each other’s lives. At this point Leonard could water his plants and I would find a way for that son of a bitch to annoy me.”
There were a few soft chuckles in the crowd.
“But the truth is that my friendship with Leonard was one of the longest-standing relationships in my life and I have spent many years wondering what would have happened if one of us had just let go of our astounding egos for long enough to mend the bridge.” Ruby shook her head. “But we can’t change what’s done. And that has to be okay. I can’t undo the past. None of us can. But the future is yet to come.”
My throat was dry and my chest tight as the weight of time hit me like a boulder.
“Despite my and Leonard’s schism, I can say without a doubt that no one has ever been more willing to help a friend in need. Leonard would help you hide a body just as quickly as he would offer to make some callsaround town to find you a gig. And honestly, I don’t know which of those is more of a hassle.”
That got another knowing laugh from many of the residents.
Ruby held up her champagne glass. “To my dear friend Lenny and to not letting the past write the future.”
