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Chapter Eighteen
Philomena
Tears rolled down my cheeks and my sobs echoed throughout the room. A stranger approached and handed me a tissue, then sat beside me, placing an arm around my shoulder.
That was one part of the job I struggled with. I didn’t mind being touched, but I preferred to know the person. It wasn’t as though I could stop crying. This job was based on a cultural belief that the louder you are mourned, the more welcome you’ll be in the afterlife. No matter how much this stranger tried to console me with shoulder pats and encouraging words, I had to cry even louder.
Eventually the woman gave up, patted me on the arm, and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sure tomorrow will be better.” She got up and once again, I was sitting alone.
I felt horrible for not being able to acknowledge her acts of kindness. The world needed more of them. Times like this made me wish I had chosen a different career. My body ached and I felt as though I would end up dehydrated before this funeral was over.
An hour later people were leaving, and the family was saying their last goodbye. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I could leave as well. Even though I didn’t know the deceased, my heart went out to his loved ones.
I’d never experienced a loss myself. Maybe that’s why I was able to do this job. I could see their pain, their suffering, but it didn’t bring back any memories of my own.
I still found it odd that during one of our lengthy conversations, I had learned that Clark had never been to a wake or funeral before. Maybe that’s why it was hard for him to understand what I do. Then again, it didn’t help that Crystal attacked my career in front of him.
That was another item on my list of things to discuss with Clark. It wasn’t at the top, but I thought it was important for him to understand why I do this. It’s a part of who I am, no different than him running his business. I’d like to think he’d respect my choice. Then again, I hoped Crystal would’ve done so by now.
I wish I never told anyone what I do for work. The hardest part of my job is dealing with judgment from people I love.
I couldn’t think about that right now. It’s not like it could make me cry any harder. Crying isn’t something I do. Not when I’m mad, or hurt, or sad. Those emotions have never led to tears. Yet here I am, bawling my eyes out. My training for this job said to pull from a memory that hurt you deeply. When I tried, no tears came. Instead, I had to focus on what was being asked of me, and only then would the stream start down my cheeks.
I could’ve been an actress. A sad one, but still an actress. Bet Crystal wouldn’t complain about my job if I was famous.
No one ever got nominated for an Emmy or an Oscar based on being able to cry on cue. That was pretty much the extent of my acting ability. Not a huge calling for that in Hollywood. Better keep the job I got. At least it pays the bills.
I bit my lip to hold back my snickering. No way would I be able to explain that.
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket for the third time this morning. I really wanted to know who it was and if it was important. Unfortunately, they would need to leave a voicemail. I couldn’t afford to be fired from two jobs in a week’s time.
Gradually I turned off the waterworks, as now only a few family members remained. One came over and bowed slightly. “Thank you,” she said, then turned and walked away. The other two women came and did the same. Soon I was alone, just me and the deceased.
I was free to leave, but I closed my eyes and offered a silent prayer. As I headed for my car, my phone rang again. It was Joey.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for two hours,” he snapped.
He’d never lost his cool with me before, so I knew something was terribly wrong. There was no time to explain that I’d been working. I blurted out, “What happened?”
I held my breath preparing myself for whatever news he was about to deliver.
“Crystal was in a car accident.”
My heart sank, and I felt weak and dizzy. I leaned against my car for support as I asked, “Is she…okay?” Please, be okay. I can’t lose you.
“She’s in surgery right now. I don’t know all the details, but her leg is broken and so is her hip. I think they said they were looking for internal bleeding. It was…” Joey choked. “Bad. Really bad.”
Oh my God. I know there were things they didn’t want to tell a person over the phone, but this sounded bad enough. There couldn’t be more than this, but I knew it was possible. “Where are you?” I asked. The last I heard he had left on assignment.
“I’m flying back. I’ll be there within the hour. Oh, God, Phillie, I can’t lose her. I love her so much. She’s always worried that I’m the one in danger. It should be me, not her,” he sobbed.
I’d never heard Joey cry. He needed me - they both did. “Joey, she’s going to be okay. And the two of you are going to get married and have a dozen babies. You just believe. Don’t let go of that.”
“It’s really bad, Phillie.”
I didn’t have the details, and I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing them right now by myself. Clark, I need you. I really need you. Mustering up my strength, I asked, “What hospital?”
He gave me the information and told me he’d meet me there. The connection on the phone became choppy and I could tell he was on a plane. The call dropped and so did I.
