The Smart One

Chapter 21





Mr. Cranston’s funeral wasn’t as dramatic as Martha had imagined it would be. They didn’t have a separate wake and funeral, just had an open casket for an hour or so before the mass started. Martha came early, and then sat in the back. When they finally closed the top of the casket, Ruby started crying, loudly. It echoed in the church, and actually was a little dramatic, which was probably what Ruby was going for. But her brother was the one to take her arm and lead her to the pew, so it looked like they were getting along now. Who could tell how long that would last?

There weren’t too many people there, actually. Martha remembered Bets saying once that the older you got, the smaller the funerals were. Because everyone that you knew was dying and there weren’t many people left, which was depressing when you got right down to it. Which was worse? To be one of the first to die and have a packed church or to outlive everyone and have almost no one at your funeral to show for it? Martha couldn’t decide.

The funeral was at a Presbyterian church, and the service was just what Mr. Cranston had written down. Martha felt like she’d gotten a sneak peek, since she knew which hymns and readings she was going to hear. She was a little surprised to see Jaz get up to do a reading, but thought how nice it was that Mr. Cranston had chosen her. It was right.

Ruby and her brother both gave the eulogy, although Ruby didn’t get too far. She talked about being a little girl and having her dad read the comics to her while she sat on his lap. Then she said something else that Martha couldn’t understand, and her brother put his hand on her back and gently moved her out of the way. He spoke about Mr. Cranston like he was a businessman that he admired. But Martha tried not to judge, because maybe he had to keep his speech a little removed or he’d lose it like Ruby.

Martha went back to the house for the lunch, which was catered, but it was still Jaz that was in charge, taking over and giving orders. She seemed happy to have something to do, to be bustling around, arranging and rearranging cold cuts and tiny rolls. Switching out the serving spoons for the salads, inspecting the glasses. If anyone noticed that she was crying while doing all of this, they didn’t say anything. Jaz just kept moving, and every once in a while reached up to wipe away a tear.

She didn’t stay at the house too long. Since Jaz was so busy and Ruby and her brother were greeting guests and accepting condolences, Martha didn’t really have anyone to talk to. She made herself a tiny ham sandwich and ate it standing in the corner of the living room, where she’d had her interview with Ruby. She wondered what they’d do with the house now, if they’d sell it, if they’d have to redecorate it before they put it on the market. To think of it cleared of all the personality (as stuffy as it was), to think of the pictures gone, the furniture taken away, made Martha sadder than she’d been all day.

After she ate, she put her plate in the kitchen and found Jaz to say good-bye. Jaz gave her a big hug, and cried a little in her hair, but Martha didn’t mind.

“It was so great working with you,” Martha said. She meant it.

“You too, baby. Take care now. You take care of yourself.”

They squeezed arms and then Jaz kept moving, picking up plates and glasses that had been abandoned, picking up crumpled napkins. Martha looked around and saw Ruby, so she went up to say good-bye.

“It was really an honor to work for your father,” Martha said. It seemed like the right thing to say.

“That’s sweet,” Ruby said. “Oh, I almost forgot. Come with me.”

Ruby led her back to the office, and gave her an envelope with her name on it. “To thank you for all your work,” she said, sounding strangely formal.

“Oh, no, I already got paid,” Martha said.

“This is just a little extra.”

“I couldn’t.” Martha held the envelope out to Ruby.

“Take it,” Ruby said. She looked like she didn’t really care if Martha was going to or not, but didn’t want to deal with the back and forth.

“Well, thanks.”

“Sure. I know he wasn’t always that easy to deal with.”

“Oh, no. He was great. Really. He loved your presents, I think.”

Ruby laughed. “No, he didn’t. I never knew what to get for him.”

“He did, I think. Even if he didn’t use them all the time, I think he really loved getting them.”

“Thanks,” Ruby said. She looked around the office.

“Thank you again.” Martha felt like she’d done a good deed, like she’d made the day better for Ruby. She smiled as she let herself out the back door.

MARTHA HAD GOTTEN A CALL from the caretaking company, just a few days after Mr. Cranston passed, which seemed a little insensitive, but it was their job, she supposed. They asked if she’d be interested in a new placement, and because she hadn’t thought too far ahead, she said yes.

This was a different sort of job. She’d be with a woman in her early sixties who had fallen and broken her hip. The woman lived alone and would need help getting to the store and moving around. Martha was happy to take a job with someone who wasn’t going to die anytime soon. Although sixty was fairly young to break a hip. This woman probably hadn’t gotten enough calcium or done any of the light weight lifting that could help prevent bone deterioration. Well, no matter. Martha could talk to her about all of those things.

They met once, briefly. Sharon Cooper lived alone in a much smaller house than the Cranstons’. Her husband was dead, she told Martha, but she didn’t elaborate on it. Martha wondered if he was older or if he’d had an untimely death. From what she could tell from the pictures in the house, she had a few children and a couple of grandchildren. Martha stopped in front of one picture of a blond girl, about three years old, hugging a teddy bear.

“She’s so cute,” Martha said. Sharon just smiled. “I’m just about to become an aunt. My brother’s going to have a baby.”

“Congratulations,” Sharon said. And that was that. Well, never mind. They had plenty of time to get to know each other.

It would be strange to be in a new house all of a sudden, surrounded by a new family and a new story. It seemed not right to just leave the Cranstons when she’d been such a part of it. But she knew she could always go and visit Jaz over the next few months. Jaz would be happy to have a friendly face, she supposed, while dealing with the house and the loss of Mr. Cranston. Yes, that’s what she’d do. She’d make a plan to go there next week and have tea with Jaz.

AT HOME, CLEO SEEMED TOO PREGNANT to even breathe. Martha had never spent this much time up close with a pregnant person—other than when Weezy was pregnant with Max, and Martha didn’t remember that much. It was fascinating. Sometimes Cleo leaned back on the couch, shifting around.

“The baby’s feet are in my ribs,” she’d say.

“Really?” Martha asked. What a strange thought to have feet kicking you in the ribs.

Cleo nodded and puffed a little. She was pretty irritable, but it seemed to be that Max was the only one she took it out on. Martha couldn’t really blame her. She looked like she was about to pop.

“You’re so close,” Martha told her one day. The due date was just a week away. The two of them were lying on the couch watching TV, and Cleo’s breathing was so loud it was almost distracting.

“I hope I make it until then,” Cleo said.

“You will.” Martha patted her big, swollen feet. It was the first time she’d seen any part of Cleo that wasn’t pretty and perfect, and she couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit happy about it. “You will.”

DR. BAER TOLD MARTHA THAT she was going to have to let Claire make her own decisions about therapy. “Not everyone is ready or willing to give it a try. And if they’re not ready, then it won’t do them any good.”

“I know, but I just know it would help,” Martha said. Dr. Baer held up her hand, as if to say, That’s enough talking for now. Martha sighed.

“It’s not up to you. You made the offer, you told her why you wanted her to come with you, and she doesn’t want to do it. Sometimes you just have to let it be.”

“Fine,” Martha said. She hated when people said to let things be. If everyone in the world just let things be, it would be a disaster.

Claire wasn’t home much these days anyway. She took the train to New York for interviews and to look at apartments. Martha knew she’d be on her way soon. They had totally different schedules now, and even when Claire was home, they rarely ran into each other in the bathroom, which made Martha feel sort of sad. But then, the other morning, Claire had come in while she was brushing her teeth and gone over to put toothpaste on her own toothbrush.

They stood there and brushed their teeth, each at their own sink, looking in the mirror. Claire spit and then sang, “Brush, brush, brush, in a rush, rush, rush.” She looked at Martha from the corner of her eyes, and Martha started laughing. It was a song they had made up when they were little, and they’d insisted on singing it every night while they brushed their teeth together.

“Spit and rinse, spit and rinse, brush in a rush,” Martha sang. The song wasn’t exactly genius, but they’d been little kids. The two of them smiled at each other in the mirror.

Claire cleared her throat and looked over at her. “I’m sorry if I’ve been hard to live with the past few months. I really am. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“It’s okay,” Martha said. And it really was. She knew that even when Claire was saying stuff about her, it was really more about Claire.

“Good,” Claire said. “It’s just not been the best year for me, you know? But I’m sorry if I was being an a*shole.”

Martha opened her mouth and was about to say something about how maybe therapy would have helped her work through it, but thought better of it and just said, “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you got your own place. Really. I think it’s great.”

“Me too,” Martha said.

MARTHA WAS REALLY DIVING INTO being a homeowner. She got paint samples and wallpaper books from the store, and spent hours studying each one. Some people thought wallpaper was old-fashioned, but Martha liked it. She thought maybe she’d do the guest bathroom in a small floral pattern. And who cared if other people didn’t like it? It was her house after all.

She was starting to get a little nervous about moving out. It was strange to think she wouldn’t see her parents every day. But with the baby coming, it was probably for the best. Even though once she and Claire were gone, Weezy wouldn’t have nearly as much help around the house as she did now.

The great part about Martha’s situation was that she didn’t have to move at any specific time. She now officially owned the condo, but she was taking her time getting it set up. She went over and measured and thought about how she wanted everything to be. It was a pretty big job, actually, since she had to buy all new furniture.

“Just take it piece by piece,” Weezy said to her one night. “You don’t have to have it all done in a day.”

That was true, Martha thought. And that calmed her down a bit.

SHARON COOPER TURNED OUT TO BE a tougher patient than Martha had thought she’d be. She was much tougher than Mr. Cranston, that was for sure. Martha was there every day from nine to five, and she helped her get into the shower and get dressed. She took her to the grocery store, which seemed like a big trip out, but Sharon insisted. She was using a walker and was not very steady, and it made Martha nervous to watch her shoot down the aisles of the store.

“Why don’t you take it easy?” she said one day.

“I’m fine,” Sharon said. “I’m not going to get better just sitting around.”

“No, but if you make yourself fall again, it’s going to take you a much longer time to get better.”

Sharon didn’t answer her, but she did slow down a little bit. She had a fight to her, which was good. But it also made it seem like she was annoyed all the time, and that got tiresome. Mr. Cranston had been frustrated, sure, but that was different. He was looking back at his life, mourning the fact that he was almost done. Sharon was fighting like hell to get back to the way she’d been. And you had to admire her for that. Still, it didn’t make her an easy patient. Not at all.

Sharon’s children took turns coming over at night, to bring her dinner and get her settled. They always looked frazzled and tired, and kind of put out to be there, which bothered Martha. If Weezy was in this situation, Martha would be happy to help out. Although maybe Sharon was a harder mother to take care of than Weezy would be. She could see that.

Her oldest daughter, Megan, was a nurse and often came by in her pink scrubs. “You should change,” Sharon said to her one night. “There’s probably germs all over those things.”

Megan rolled her eyes, and Martha knew she was annoyed, but really, it was true. Her scrubs were probably festering with disease. The next day, she told Sharon that she used to be a nurse, that she was planning to go back to it.

“Really? What’s stopping you?”

“I’m just figuring things out,” Martha said.

“I could never have been a nurse,” Sharon told her. “I don’t like seeing people sick and lying around in beds. Blood is not for me. Vomit even less. When the kids had the stomach flu, it was their dad that dealt with them.”

“It doesn’t bother me so much.”

“That’s like Megan. She never had to turn away from those things.”

“That’s a sign of a good nurse.”

“Well, I can’t say I understand your choice, but I have to say it seems better than this gig. You should figure it out soon, you know. Or you’ll be stuck wiping the asses of old people like me for the rest of your life.”

Martha didn’t say anything. She could see why Sharon’s children weren’t tripping over themselves to come here and help her. Yes, she could certainly see why.

THAT NIGHT, MARTHA HAD TROUBLE falling asleep. She was annoyed at Sharon, at how harsh she’d sounded when she told her she should go back to being a nurse. What did she know? She had no idea what Martha had been through the past year. Good lord. Some people were so quick to judge.

Although, if she had to be honest, she was a little bothered with herself for not doing anything about it the whole time she worked at the Cranstons’. Not one thing. She had so much more free time there! She could have figured out what needed to be done, could have gotten started on it. It was always so quiet and peaceful at the house. Even when Ruby was making a scene or Mr. Cranston was crabby, it was nothing like being with Sharon. Martha hoped her hip healed soon.

She told herself that she deserved a break. Time had gotten away from her, but that happened. And she’d just bought a new condo, for goodness’ sake. That was a big change, a life change, and anyone would need to take a breath after that, to take some time and regroup. She was okay. One step at a time, she thought. That was also the motto for alcoholics, wasn’t it? No, that was one day at a time. Well, that made sense too. She still had to adjust to her new place, decorate it, and get settled. She could only do so much at once or she’d drive herself crazy. One thing at a time, she told herself. There was always time for the rest of it later. Yes, there was always time.