The Morbid and Sultry Tales of Genevieve Clare (9 page)

“My best friend was with me every single second. She was awesome, she and her mom. But the one person that helped me through it was a man I’d loved since I was a kid. He came home to be by my side, and then, I don’t know what happened…if he’d always loved me, too, I’m not sure. But whatever it was, despite all that pain and sadness, he managed to save me from drowning in grief.”

“So what happened?” he asked.

“His mom died of cancer years before, so he knew how to handle me, how to help me. He was moving back to town. We’d taken things as slow as we could, but we were in love, so he drove up to move in one weekend. His dad had to drive him halfway because his car broke down…a sign if there ever was one. They got into an accident. His dad had a massive heart attack behind the wheel. Ahren—”

Jimmy’s head snapped to attention.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah… I mean, Jesus,” he said. “That’s a lot of bad luck, Gen.”

“Tell me about it. Anyway, Ahren, the guy I was with, he survived the crash but it just… I couldn’t… ” I wrapped my hands around the cup and watched my tears hit the table. “It broke me.”

I had every intention of telling Jimmy the real reasons I was a professional mourner. I wanted to tell him that putting on my Gran’s little hat took me to a time when I could still smell her perfume in her old bedroom. Or when I wore my mom’s pearls, that I could still remember the look on my parents’ faces when she would wear them. And sitting next to Ahren, feeling the potential of excruciating grief as I imagined that I wasn’t sitting next to him, burying his father; I imagined myself sitting alone, burying Ahren and with every funeral I attended I was there, holding his hand. I held the hands of so many people, I’d lost count. Some stood out for me more than others, but Mom, Dad, Gran and Ahren were never far from my thoughts.

“Who’d you take flowers to today?” Jimmy asked.

“His parents. My family is buried at home. I live next to a cemetery.” I looked up to see Jimmy smiling for some insane reason. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“Serendipity,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Great word. Great fuckin’ word, Gen-girl,” he smiled and shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell.”

I finished my explanation. “It’s why I do what I do. I go to funerals, not because I’m weird or macabre… Well, I am those things, but most of the time, I deal with older people who have no one to mourn their passing. They pay me, but I visit them. I eat cake with them. I do crossword puzzles with them. And I have a new client who I’m bringing dirty magazines to. These gigs like I did today? They’re… God, don’t hate me, they’re kinda fun.”

He didn’t even know half the requests I had from people. I was hired to do some really weird things.

“Why don’t you have Christmas with me and my missus, if you don’t have plans?” He ate his final bite of apple pie with cheese on top. I never did understand the cheese-on-pie thing. Ick.

I looked down at the table and said, “Maybe next year, Jimmy. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said with his hand on over mine. “We’ll try for next year.”

I watched Rocky open her non-holiday gift with a huge smile on her face.

“Get the fuck out!” she shouted and jumped at me, nearly knocking me down.

You’ve wanted them for such a long time, and I can only hear no so many times before I snap.”

“And the other boxes?” she said, pointing to more wrapped in copper-colored paper.

“I might have bought you the others, too.” I had money I never spent. It just sat there accumulating interest. I had a retirement fund, money put aside to fix up the cemetery once and for all—even though I could probably get funding from the state—I gave to local charity anonymously, and donated money to the pre-school for a new playground. It’s what my parents would have wanted, and it barely made a dent. Buying my best and only friend six pairs of shoes felt fucking fantastic.

“And what am I gonna do for you, dude?” She was still smiling, but her question was loaded.

“Find a great guy, get married, and have babies I can spoil in addition to their mom?”

“Gen,” she said in a soft voice. “That’s my wish for you.”

I stood and walked out of the room and into my bathroom for one final check. I knew it was rude to get up and walk away, but we were going to Ska Night at the Fish Fry, and I didn’t want to be a wet blanket. The holidays always sucked. Always. She gave me about thirty seconds of solitude before she followed me in.

“I get it, I do, and you know I love you, but skankin’ at the Fish Fry when we’re fifty might be a little try-hard. Know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean, but I already had one heart-to-heart today,” I said to the mirror. “I can’t do two in one day. Give me ten and we’ll go, ‘k?”

She waited a second before she said, “‘K. I love the shoes, and even though I haven’t opened the others, you know I love them, too. Thank you.”

Rocky found a loophole in my no-holiday edict: anniversaries. A different day each year, we wrapped presents for each other in the most obnoxious paper we could find. Seven years now, Rock and I had been celebrating our non-anniversary, and when it was time to open my gift, I always did it with my family. I walked out the front door with a small rectangle box. It was silver and gold with a fat, curly ribbon, finished with a giant sheep ornament. Wool was one of the seventh anniversary symbols, as was copper, which was why I wrapped Rocky’s in copper-colored paper.

“Hi, guys!” I sat down and jimmied the tightly wound ribbon off the box. “That Rocky, I swear. Let’s see what she got me this year.” I opened the box and lifted the item wrapped in tissue paper. When I discovered the gift, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I was going out, I didn’t want to get all…you know…blubbery. I scooped up the wrapping, the sheep, the three shot glasses from a few days before and went into the house.

“Dude!” I squealed.

“You don’t like it?” she asked, astonished.

“What? I love it, but these are like…expensive!”

“You love it though, right? It’s awesome, isn’t it?” She gave me a satisfied smile, knowing she’d completely outdone my gift of six pairs of pricey shoes.

“You suck and you know it, and you know why, but I do totally love it.”

During a night of gin, rum, and cards—because if you were going to play gin-rummy, well, the name said it all – I had told Rocky about the photography exhibit in San Francisco that Ahren and I had never made it to. She looked into it and said it was still there, a permanent feature. But I didn’t want to take the chance of seeing him there. I had no idea where he was or what he was doing. It was tempting enough to find him on Facebook and make contact. Actually, it was more than tempting.

I held the small memento mori in my hands and looked at the back. Maeve, age thirty-four. “I fucked up,” I managed to say through my tears.

“You didn’t fuck up; you were scared, Gen. You didn’t fuck up.” She squeezed my hand in hers. “Let’s go out and have fun. See if we can find some hot guy to take your mind off things.”

“Okay,” I agreed and put the picture on the living room mantel. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that Rocky found a photo of a thirty-four year old dead woman. I was alive, but I wasn’t living.

****

Three hours later, I was hot, I was tipsy, and on my way to getting drunk when the bartender handed me a note.

Gorgeous,

Meet me upstairs.

XO

I didn’t bother asking the busy bartender who’d given him the note. I scanned the bar crowd to see if anyone was scoping me out and went back to Rocky. Instead of dancing, she was leaning against the far wall next to a guy dressed in a top hat and tails. When I approached, she practically ripped my arm out of its socket and said, “Genevieve Clare, meet…wait for it, dude,” she said to me with a grin, “best name ever…Cosmo Giannopoulos.”

“Well done,” he praised her efforts with his multi-syllable name.

“Thanks. And guess what he does for a living. I mean, just guess, dude. Guess. Guess, guess, guess.” God, get a couple of drinks in her and she’s Chatty McChatterson.

“Undertaker?”

He grinned. She threw her head back in one loud guffaw and came back with, “Good guess. He’s your competition.”

“No shit?”

“It was an acting gig really. I had a wake before this. A friend signed me up for some dating thing and here I am. I was supposed to meet the young lady here. but…she probably took one look at me and bailed.”

“Her loss, obviously,” declared Rocky.

He grinned down at her. She was clearly into him, her eyes all big and dreamy.

“Did you write this?” I asked, showing her the note.

“Dude, I did not. Go, you must sally forth into the balcony where dreams are made and panties are lost.” She leaned into my ear and asked, “You need a condom? I’m only packin’ two, but I’m willing to give you one. Safety first, my friend.”

“I’m good.” I smiled back. “See you outside in an hour?”

She was so wrapped up in…Cosmo…she didn’t bother to acknowledge me. I made my way upstairs and was glad I’d let my scotch-on-the-rocks get watery. I had a feeling I’d be driving us back home that night.

The best thing about the balcony was its fantastic view. You could see the stage, the dance floor, even the bar off to the side. But no one could see you. Not once, in all the years I’d gone there, had lights ever come on upstairs. Even when we had a five-point-three earthquake and all the emergency lights set into the floor came on. One light above the emergency exit sign gave just enough light so it wasn’t dangerous. People were trying to get outside, pulling on half-buttoned shirts and jeans, but I sat in the back row and watched as my make-out friend got spooked and went outside. If my number was up, it was up. Whether I was in the theater or out of it, I didn’t think it mattered.

I made my way toward the back row. I could only see the shadowy figures of couples, but it wasn’t crowded at all. The good thing about the Fish Fry was their ever-present security. Sure, you could make out—or other things—in the balcony, just as long as you knew there was somebody watching. Whenever someone got too aggressive, on the dance floor or anywhere else, they were out of the club forever. So, I never felt unsafe there…except for that one time in the mosh-pit, but even then, I chocked it up to life experience.

A hand came out and tugged me toward the steps. These led to a booth where the sound and light guys sat for shows. I hesitated for a moment, knowing I’d be out of security’s sights even though they could hear me, but this guy gave me a reassuring squeeze and pulled me slowly to his body. He dropped his hand, only to bring both to my face, where he leaned in and kissed me softly. He tasted of scotch and cigarettes, but that kiss…my God. I melted into it, my body instantly responding to his touch. I never thought of myself as a slut, considering I’d had sex an average of twice a year for the last ten years. That may have been a few notches in my lipstick case, but it was the only intimacy I’d allowed myself. He broke the kiss first and pulled me into him so tight, he scared me. I tried to pull away, but he felt my fear and loosened his grip.

He laced his fingers through mine and ushered me into a seat in the back row. I sat down first.

He sat beside me and whispered, “Close your eyes.” Again, he kissed me, but this time was more heated, dangerous, erotic, and…oh my God, familiar. He pulled back just enough to say, “I’m going to find my way back to your heart, Gen. Ten years…ten years too long.”

I started hyperventilating.

I jumped from the seat, ran to the security guard, and quickly said, “He didn’t try anything funny, but I think I’m gonna throw up. Too much booze. He’s not bad or anything though, bye.” I went downstairs and saw that Rocky was still in deep conversation with Cosmo.

“Dude,” I pleaded, leaving her no choice but to talk to me.

“Gen!” She snapped to attention, her expression changing immediately. “Bathroom, now. Cos, you stay,” she commanded with a pointed finger.

He held up his palm up. “Me Cos, you woman, me stay.” He hit his chest with a grin. “Protect village.”

She giggled but scurried me away to the bathroom. “What happened?” she demanded.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, but that wasn’t happening.

Finally, she clapped her hands in front of my face and yelled, “Information! I need information!”

It was then I saw we were surrounded by men and urinals.

“Rock?” I gave her a questioning look.

“Everybody pees and everybody poops. We’re animals, deal.”

A few chuckles were heard as I explained. “The note.”

“Yeah?”

“The note.”

“We established that. And?”

“Ahren,” I breathed.

She stopped breathing and stared at me. “Say something!”

“I…no words. He kissed me.”

It was then that Rocky burst into tears in the men’s bathrooms at the Fish Fry Dance Hall.

“Ladies, everything cool?” The security guard from upstairs had apparently come to check on me.

I wished I was invisible, or dead, as Rocky explained my life.

“She knew this guy, when they were kids, and he was older so it never really worked, ya know? But then, he came back when her parents died and she was twenty-four so it was perfect. Except for her parents dying. And her grandmother. Anyway, then he got into this bad accident, and they both kinda freaked out, because, you know, his parents were dead and her parents were dead…” Every single male listened to each word out of her stupid face. “Then she asked him to leave, and he did.” Then she paused and scanned the crowd before she stated dramatically, “He did!” She turned to the two guys listening beside her, probably waiting to ask her to dance or fuck or both, and said, “Would you leave if this hot piece-of-ass asked you to?”