*
“Hi,” he said, his deep strong voice carrying perfectly. “My name is Jimmy Ferris. I first met Lori Ericson when she let us start practicing in their garage. I was about sixteen at the time. Mr. Ericson wasn’t too happy with having us play there at first, but Lori talked him around. No one else would have us. To be fair, we made a hell of a racket. Barely a fucking … sorry, we barely had a clue what we were doing.
“In summer she’d bring us out these big jugs of Kool-Aid. People that know me won’t be surprised to hear I used to dump about a quarter out, fill it up with this cheap vodka I’d talk one of the guys down at the liquor store into getting me.” He looked to his brother and David gave him a tight smile.
“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “This one time she came back in, busted me doing it. Didn’t matter that I was bigger than her. She grabbed me by the ear, nearly tore it off my head. Then she marched me outside and ripped me a new one. I was about an inch tall by the time she was done. Nice or not, Lori knew how you cut you down to size. And once she was done doing that, she calmed down and she talked to me. Just about general stuff. All sorts of things, really. But every time I went there from then on, she made time to talk to me, even if it was just for two minutes. Our own mom had taken off by then, so it wasn’t something I got at home. Now, I wasn’t Lori’s kid. I probably wasn’t even a kid she wanted around her kid. Still, she always made a point of giving that to me. She kept an eye on me and Dave, made sure we were clothed and fed, that we had what we needed. She cared when no one else gave a shit.” He grimaced, cleared his throat. “She cared when no one else did.”
His fingers stretched then curled tight as he took a moment. “I’d like to tell you how I stopped drinking in Lori’s garage after that. That’s how the story should finish. But some part of me was an addict, I guess, even back then. I did stop for a couple of days, and I was real sneaky about it afterward. I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her. Maybe that makes it sound like she didn’t do that much, that she didn’t have much of an effect. But what she did was enormous. She was the first person I’d ever met who made me wish I was better. Was a good person. Could make more of myself. And that’s a power, right there. If you can get even a guy like me to want to be a better man, then you’re something special.”
Jimmy carefully picked up the piece of paper in front of him, folding it back up. It didn’t matter, he didn’t need it. The poetry was in him, in the way he was baring his heart to these people. He stood tall, facing the crowd. His truth might not be pretty, but there was strength in his stance, pride. Warmth bloomed in my chest at the sight. A sense of satisfaction I hadn’t experienced in the longest time. Not that I’d made the eulogy, I know, but still …
“This might seem a weird story to tell you,” he said, his voice measured and calm. “It certainly doesn’t make me look good. But I think it goes a long way toward explaining to you why Lori was so important. What made her so amazing was … she cared. She genuinely cared about people. And that’s as rare as it is beautiful. It’s why she’ll be so badly missed.”
I scrubbed a tear off my face with the heel of my hand before Jimmy could catch me crying. Sadly, not fast enough. At least it wasn’t like I was the only one in a similar condition. Lucky the hall hadn’t flooded.
He turned to me, face bereft of emotion. “Let’s go.”
I sniffed. “Yep.”
We walked back down to our seats, his hand at the small of my back this time, guiding me forward. Before we could reach them, Mal stepped out. Wordlessly, he put his arms around Jimmy. He gripped him tight, giving him a thump on the back in the way men do. It took Jimmy a moment to respond and thump him back. The organ player started up again and everyone rose to their feet around us. Voices filled the hall.
I slid into the pew and retook my seat. Jimmy deposited himself next to me, the leg of his suit pants brushing against mine. I waited for him to grouse at me to move over, not that there was any room to be had due to of the sudden appearance of some woman’s handbag. But he didn’t. Honestly, after all the drama and emotional upheaval, sticking close seemed a good idea.
For him, of course. I was fine.
His gaze dropped briefly to where we connected before moving away. “You okay?”
“Yes. You?”
He made a noise. It sounded agreeable enough.
“Good.” I settled my hands in my lap.
Up in the pulpit the preacher started talking. Jimmy’s leg leaned a little more firmly against mine. He looked straight ahead, however, apparently unaware of what his thigh was doing. Nothing showed on his face. Maybe it was his way of acknowledging me, of saying thank you. Or maybe the man had a cramp. Whatever. A small smile curved my lips, my shoulders sagging with relief.
We’d done it. We’d made it through.
CHAPTER THREE
Huckleberry pie was the devil’s work.
It had taken me two thin servings to be certain. But now I knew.
I sat in the corner of the Ericson’s living room, Ev on one side and Anne on the other. Empty plates sat in all our laps. The wake had been something else. Something involving food, good music, and almost everyone the Ericsons knew. A sad vibe had prevailed at first. Of course it had. But talking and quiet laughter had slowly permeated the space until it became more of a celebration of Lori’s life than a mourning of her passing. Now, five hours later, the crowd had begun to thin out. I smothered a yawn, blinking tired eyes. It’d been one hell of a day with all the emotional highs and lows.
Mal knelt at Anne’s feet. His lush lips were understandably turned down at the edges. Not that I made a habit of checking out other women’s men’s mouths. Sometimes, however, these things were kind of hard not to notice.
“Hey,” Anne said softly, placing her hand against his cheek.
“I need a happy.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Tell me you love me.” He leaned in and she met him half way, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
“I love you, Mal,” she said.
“No you don’t. You’re just saying that to make conversation. That’s a horrible thing to lie to me about, pumpkin. I don’t know how you can sleep at night.”
“I sleep very well, lying right next to you.” She smiled and threaded her arms around his neck. For a long time they held each other tight, teasing and mumbling endearments.
“Where’s Jimmy?” asked Ev, interrupting the show.
I guess we shouldn’t be perving on the loved-up couple. Even if they were whispering sweet nothings and making out right in front of us. They were cute. Yes, I could admit to missing having someone special sometimes. Though the men I’d dated were more inclined to cause trouble than comfort. Hence my vow to stay sexless and single. I had to protect myself from my own shitty taste in men, even if I did find my own hugs somewhat lacking.
“Lena?” Ev laughed. “Hello?”
“Sorry. Ah, Jimmy … he’s outside with Mr. Ericson. I think he was in need of some ‘Lena free’ time.”
“He did a beautiful job with the eulogy.”
“Yes, he did.”
“And you did a great job of getting him through it.”
“Thanks.” I studied my empty plate.
“He hasn’t had a lot of women around that he can depend upon,” she said, her voice dropping volume. “Like he said, their mom took off early. Though I think that was probably a blessing. From what little David’s told me, she wasn’t someone you’d want around.”