Same Old Truths (12 page)

Leo planted himself in a chair across the table from her and proceeded to remove a wax paper-wrapped sandwich from his lunch bag. Without looking, Kay could tell by the smell it was egg salad. He unwrapped his aromatic prize, and dug in with all the gusto of a starved animal. Then he opened his mouth to speak, displaying the egg salad in all its mayonnaise-bathed glory. ”I wonder what Ed wants?”

Aptly grossed out by Leo’s lack of good chewing etiquette, Kay, nevertheless, made the effort to not visibly cringe. As mad as she was at him, she still felt sorry for the poor sap. He was the guy at the bottom of the totem pole, in charge of all the lowly tasks around the mortuary. Though he had dropped the ball this morning, he could usually be counted on to get things done. She was beginning to feel guilty for ratting him out. Nevertheless, she matter-of-factly told him, “I think he’s going to ask you why you didn’t have the limousine ready for me this morning.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together, completely clueless about what Kay was saying.

“Huh?”

“Yeah. When I pulled it out of the garage this morning, the inside was completely trashed.” Then she confessed, “I only told Ed because he wanted to know why I was looking for you.”

He sat there for a few moments, chewing, with the puzzled look still on his face. He finally swallowed and said, “I’m pretty sure the limo wasn’t initialed on the white board,” referring to the large, dry writer hung in the back hallway. It contained a detailed checklist used for keeping track of all the details of each funeral service.

“No, Leo,” Kay corrected, “I know I initialed it because it was a special request on a pre-arrangement.”

Leo shook his head and countered, “I don’t mean to go against you Kay, but if it had been initialed I would have cleaned it.”

“Well, this is easy enough to settle. Let’s just go check. I haven’t erased this morning’s service yet.”

The two got up from the table, leaving the remains of their lunch uneaten and went around the corner from the break room to the hallway.

“Ok. Here it is,” Kay said running her index finger along the grid line containing the service details of Emily McNab’s funeral.

Authorization to Embalm: KM

Embalming Report: KM

Hearse: KM

Limousine:

Escort: KM

Memorial Cards: KM

Register Book: KM

Announcement Board: KM

Obit: KM

Flowers: KM

Honorarium Checks: KM

Cemetery: KM

Headstone Order:

Insurance Claim: KM

There it was as plain as day. A blank space next to “Limousine.” Kay stood there staring at the empty spot, as if she could will her initials to magically appear. Leo remained, mercifully, quiet. He wasn’t the type of jerk who’d enjoy laying an “I told you so” on her. But the fact remained, he was right and she was wrong. Kay knew she’d have to go to Ed, admit her mistake, take Leo off the hook, and take her medicine like a grownup.

“Oh my god, Leo. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I missed it,” she said with sincere remorse. Then she quickly added,”Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to Ed. Let’s go finish our lunch.”

Together they walked back to the break room, one person in triumph and other in defeat. Kay took one look at the drying, curled edges of her cold raviolis, and knew lunch was over. Leo, on the other hand, dove right back in where he’d left off. Not giving a thought to his disgusting mouthful of egg salad said, “I bet Ed was pissed when you had to cancel the limo.”

“Oh, we used it all right,” Kay said as she cleaned up her eating space. “Thankfully, there was enough time for me to give it a quick going over. Of course, it wasn’t as perfect as you usually make things,” she said with a conciliatory smile. Then she leaned in, lowered her voice and said, “You’ll never believe what I found hiding under the driver’s seat.”

Leo took another big bite off his sandwich and answered with an eager, but gross, wide-mouthed, ”Whaaat?”

“A used condom!”

Kay shared this with him fully aware of her ulterior motives. Not only was she trying to make things up to Leo by taking him into her confidence, she was also fishing for some kind of tell-tale reaction.

“Oh,” he said, with a blase
´ shrug.
“Is that all?”
He was clearly disappointed by Kay’s shocking revelation.

“Is that all?” Kay said. “You make it sound like finding used condoms in the limousine happens everyday.”

“Hmmm,” Leo answered, still chewing, but now with his mouth closed.

He knows something.

She waited for him to swallow, hoping he was going to speak and clear up the mystery. But he just shoved the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and went on chewing without saying a word.

Kay watched him for a few more moments and when she couldn’t take his silence any longer she blurted out, “Ah, c’mon Leo. Don’t leave me here twisting in the wind. What’s going on that you’re not telling me?”

He smiled that smile that only someone with a juicy secret can. He balled up the used wax paper, shoved it back into the brown paper bag, and rolled the whole thing up. “I gotta get going,” he said as he pushed his chair back from the table. “If I don’t start on the chapels, Ruth is going to be on my ass.” He walked to the trash can, tossed in his wadded-up bag, turned to Kay and said, “You’re gonna go talk to Ed now, right?”

“Yes. Of course,” she said, quickly rising from her chair. “And I’ll try to make sure that doesn’t happen again, ok?”

He nodded at her graciously and then quickly exited the break-room before Kay could ask any more questions.

So it looked like Kay was going to get to eat lunch after all - a heaping, helping of crow. But she wasn’t really concerned about that now. All she could think about was the secret lurking behind Leo’s inscrutable smile.

10

The More Things Change

For the next few months, Kay, the girls and Dave settled into their new routine with only the occasional hiccup here and there. Of course, the holidays presented their usual challenges. The girls had their standard complaints about feeling unwelcome at Sandy’s brother’s Thanksgiving table, and having to sit by and watch on Christmas morning as Little Dave tore into an avalanche of presents where one or two “crappy” gifts might tumble down for them. For the most part, Dave was holding up his end of the bargain, filling in at the last minute when Kay couldn’t get away from work. She was proud that she could call him now without the aid of controlled substances. Even the frosty receptionist at Dave’s office had thawed and the bad hold music had gone back to being bad and no longer inspired silly singing.

The weekend visits had been, relatively, trouble-free, and Cory even joined her sister on occasion. Kay was always there to see the girls off on Friday evening and again to greet them when they came home on Sunday. Each time she’d secretly hope to engage Dave in a friendly chat. But it never happened. She wanted to know how he was doing at his new job and she longed to tell him all the funny stuff that happened at work. (The mystery of the Limousine Lothario, which remained unsolved, would have been just the thing the two of them would have had a good laugh about.) But those days were gone. He was always polite, but he showed no interest in how she was doing or anything going on with her life. Eventually, his unwavering indifference got to be too painful so she excused herself from any further departure/arrival appearances at the door, and just watched, wistfully, through her bedroom drapes as his truck came and went.

Then, almost imperceptibly, things began to change. Looking back, Kay realized it had started with an innocent little desk lamp.

In an effort to keep Mariah motivated with her school work, Kay bought her a college dorm-like desk. It was clear from Mariah’s delight, Kay’s idea had been inspired. Now the little girl would have a grownup work space all her own where she could keep everything organized and conveniently within reach.

But the corner of the room where the desk had been placed was too dark for reading and writing. It needed a desk lamp - one of those items that fell into the category of “extra curriculars” to which Dave had so happily agreed to supply. And indeed, he complied with his usual, enthusiastic, “no problem.” He would take care of it during Mariah’s upcoming weekend visit.

Mariah came home with the lamp, alright. But it seems getting this simple $10 item involved the kind of secrecy and subterfuge worthy of a John le Carre spy novel.

First, a crafty ruse had to be devised to justify a shopping errand in town. According to Mariah, Dave told Sandy he was taking Mariah with him to the local home building center to purchase supplies for a tree house he promised to build for Little Dave. Once there, Dave bought the desk lamp and hid it in his truck under the lumber, nails and wood sealant; Mariah was sworn to secrecy. If Sandy found out, “there’d be hell to pay.”

To celebrate the completion of their secret mission, (or to assuage Dave’s guilt) he took Mariah to the local Cream Queen for a double dip soft serve. Naturally, any evidence of their ice cream junket had to be consumed and cleaned up before they got home and no mention of it made, lest Sandy’s wrath be incurred.

Mariah was confused. What kid wouldn’t be? Her dad was making her feel special and ashamed at the same time, all the while forcing her to keep a secret. Kay thought she needed to confront Dave about his borderline child abusive behavior, but brushed off the thought, telling herself it would be a wasted effort. The main thing was she had asked for Dave’s help and he had complied. Mariah had her desk lamp and it would all be worth it when the little girl could proudly show up Sandy in front of her dad with her good grades.

You gotta focus on what’s important. We’re working together the best we can for the sake of the kids
.

But deep in her heart Kay knew she was selling out.

As time wore on, twinges of pain from the impact of her reduced child support were becoming harder to ignore. Dave’s reliability for taking up the slack for those pesky “extra curriculars” was slowly, but surely diminishing.

Something as simple as asking for help with school lunches was met with an apologetic excuse about payday and bad timing. Then there was Cory’s field trip to the nuclear waste storage facility. When he feigned being unable to pony up half the $25 student participation fee, Kay told him he could still participate as a parent chaperon. Kay had caught him off guard with that one, so he reluctantly agreed to go along.

Not long after that, Cory’s trumpet was in need of a valve repair, which meant forking out $125 so she wouldn’t miss the district middle school band competition (she was first chair). Even with Kay’s offer to split the bill with Dave, he found an excuse for saying no. And each time Dave let her down, Kay would find an excuse for excusing his excuse.

His income’s been cut too
- or -
the move was expensive and he’s trying to catch up
. And the ever-popular,
money’s tight for everyone these days
.

She told herself she would cut back on the money requests to give him some breathing space. That way he’d be able to come through if something really big came up. As long as he continued to be available to drive the kids when needed, she told herself she could make do.

But that’s just the thing. He was becoming less available.

He couldn’t take Cory to therapy because he had to meet clients for a meeting over drinks after work.

He couldn’t get a sick Mariah from school because Sandy wasn’t going to be home to watch her.

He couldn’t pick up Cory’s (paid-for) repaired trumpet, because he was going out of town on business
that very
afternoon.

And he certainly couldn’t ask his wife to fill in for him. “It isn’t her responsibility,” he would defensively insist to Kay, when she suggested Sandy help out.

Kay was frustrated and angry, but still unwilling to pay attention to the nagging thought Dave might have played her for a chump. If she did that, she’d have to admit nothing had changed and Dave still had the power to manipulate her; which meant her hard-won triumph over the divorce was a joke.

No. Their agreement just needed to be tweaked to take into account changing circumstances. Kay was sure they could get things back on track. She decided the best course of action would be to set up another face-to-face meeting. There they could review the agreement to see where changes could be made to accommodate everyone’s needs and preferences.

Taking charge of the situation gave Kay a much-needed sense of empowerment and hope. She’d give him a call the next evening to make a date to get together at a mutually-convenient place and time.

But Denial is a jealous task master. If it’s going to run interference between you and Reality just so you can have the convenience and peace of feeling “everything’s OK,” it’s going to continually test your worthiness to receive its services.

By the next evening, Kay’s earnest resolve had been sapped by the stresses of a long, hard day at work. Cory, graciously driven to therapy by Violet’s mom, Bonnie, had just called asking to be picked up. The thought of putting her shoes back on and getting back in the car was so abhorrent to an exhausted Kay, she picked up the phone and put in a call to her designated wingman, Dave.