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My father and Phillip were good friends for decades. It can’t be easier hearing this news over the phone.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. There is paperwork that you will need to fill out. Are you available to come to my office?” he asks.
“I need to go check with the funeral home first. See you in an hour, maybe?”
His house is huge and eerie. I remember the last Christmas I spent with him, and it was full. He invited friends over and we had a gigantic party.
“Whenever you are ready. He has some things he would like me to discuss with you.”
He gives me the address and says he will get the paperwork printed out whenever I arrive. Although I’m not sure I’m ready to go just yet. I spent many years in this house after my parents passed, and they are wonderful memories.
Ocker Funeral Home is the place that cremated my grandmother, and it only seems fitting that they take care of Jerry, too. I grab my keys and head a couple of blocks over. His ashes are ready for me. It’s weird to see a room full of coffins when you walk in. A tear rushes down my cheek before I can wipe it up.
“Felicity, darling, how are you?” Nancy asks, rushing from the back for a hug.
“As well as expected. Haven’t really had time to get things together for Jerry.”
Her hand goes to her heart. “Oh, gosh. Poor Jerry. He always said he would live to be ninety. Guess God had other plans. I’ll go grab his urn for you while you sign this paperwork for me.”
The guilt eats away at me. I should have checked in on him more. He did so much for me after my parents passed, and he didn’t deserve to die alone. I close my eyes and imagine him sitting with my grandmother and at peace.
What a wonderful man he was…
8
THEO
The school pickup line never makes sense to me. Why would anyone get here an hour before school lets out to be the first one in line? Are they that inpatient to wait fifteen minutes or less to get their child? In the times I have picked up Bella from school, it seems like it’s always the same five cars at the front of the line, but they are never the first ones to leave. So why go through all that trouble?
I am about fifteen cars back from the front of the line, but always love watching the interactions between the kids and their parents. Some instead of parking will get out, take their child’s backpack, talk, help them in the car, and then talk some more, holding up the entire line. Good thing I’m a patient man. Bella knows my rule. She waits until I get up by the front office before getting into the vehicle. Bella’s parents don’t get off on Monday’s earlier enough to get her so that’s our day. Bella is standing by the curb, as I pull up in front of the office and she slides in weaning a purple dress and white tennis shoes.
“How was school?” I ease out of the pick up line and to the stop sign. This road is always bumper to bumper.
“Okay. Had a spelling and math test today.”
She is not the best at math, but with my help she is getting better. I like helping her because at least that way I know she is getting the help she deserves. She has never said anything bad about her foster parents, but I know they work a lot. So, it’s nice that I can give her the support and attention she needs when they can’t.
“I was thinking french fries and homework. Sound good?”
She laughs. “Always french fries.”
Once we get to the diner, we take our normal booth, and she pulls out her homework and a pencil. Let’s see what we have on the agenda today.
“Fifth grade is not as easy as I thought. Look at this.”
She scoots her paper over and I read the first question. If there are eight birds inside a birdhouse, what is the ratio of wings to beaks? She scoffs.
“Word problems are always harder for some reason instead of just being numbers. So how many birds are there?”
“Eight.”
“And how many beaks and wings does each bird have?”
“Beaks, one. Wings, two.”
I don’t answer the question for her. She needs to be able to do these things on her own.
“So, the ratio would be two to one. Right?”
