I look at the clock on the wall. “Nothing. I’m gonna call Darlene. My cousin. Tell her…”
“I called the funeral home on your laptop. Got you an appointment for Monday, eleven o’clock. Is that okay or did you have another one you wanted to call?”
I’m shocked. I nod. “Thank you.”
“Want me to call your father’s work?”
“You’d do that?” I ask.
“Where did he work? I’ll look up the number.”
“The calendar on the side of the fridge is from his job. He’s a foreman in a factory. The number’s on the bottom.”
Austin moves to the fridge and taps the number from the calendar into his phone. “Your brother’s doctor called. I answered and told her what was going on. She thinks you should visit your brother and tell him. She’s putting you on the visitor’s list. She wants to talk to you first. She said to come Monday or Tuesday.”
“You tell her about my mom, too?”
He nods. “I hope that’s okay. I was just trying to save you a call. I’ll take you to the funeral home Monday and then I’ll drive you to your brother.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“I’m doing it,” he says firmly, but his eyes are gentle.
I nod. I don’t have the energy right now for much else, especially arguing.
I hear the phone ringing as he steps out, going outside to make that call. I’m glad I don’t have to listen to it.
I sit down and put my hands in my hair. I listen to the ticking of the clock on the wall. It’s loud right now. The house is so quiet.
I hear a horn honking in the distance, and then the screen door opens as Austin returns.
“Done. I’ll call them when the arrangements are made so they can send flowers and let any coworkers that want to know come. Now, what’s next?” he asks.
“Darlene.”
“Okay,” he says. “Is this cousin you’re calling gonna come over?”
“Not likely. She has a child. And she’s… I mean… we’re not extremely close.”
“Yeah, I figured that when you spent the night here last night alone and didn’t call her,” he says, and I think I detect anger.
I have no response to that.
“When I picked those papers up, there’s an envelope in there with your name on it.”
I reach for the folder on the table and open it. That letter-sized envelope is on top of the papers inside. My dad’s penmanship.
“I don’t know if I can do this right now,” I say.
“Then do it later,” Austin suggests.
“After I call Dar… can I go back to the condo? I don’t want to sleep here tonight. And I’m so tired.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll come back tomorrow and… go through some stuff.”
“Sure. We’ll come back tomorrow. Or Monday after the funeral home. Whatever you want.”
“You don’t need to come with me; I can do it.”
“I’ll meet you in the car. But don’t feel rushed. Just giving you privacy to make your phone call. Unless you want me here while you do it.”
“It’s okay. You can even just go, and I’ll head over when I’m done. I-”
“I’m waiting,” he states, angrily. And then the anger clears from his face. “Take your time.”
I lift my phone, and go to Darlene’s contact details.
She has family on her mom’s side. She has support, at least. But really, she didn’t have much of a relationship with my father. She won’t shed tears over the loss of her Uncle Rich. This is a courtesy call.
She answers, so I tell her the news. She asks some questions and tells me she’s sorry. I ask her if she heard anything about my mother over the years and explain the newspaper clippings I found.
Darlene gets upset at that, on my behalf. She’s very sweet about it. She tells me she’ll ask her mom if she knows anything.
She tells me she’ll ask her mom to call me, let me know what she knows about after Mom left, but says it might take time to get ahold of her as her mother is away at a women’s retreat for the weekend.
Darlene wants me to call her if I need anything and I promise to tell her the funeral arrangements once they’re made.
I pack up the things I have here, including my laptop, and find Austin in his rental car talking on the phone. He ends his call, relieves me of my bags, and opens the passenger door for me.
52
Austin
She says nothing during the drive and I leave her to her thoughts, though I wish I could do something to make them go away. My heart has never felt heavier for another person’s pain before.
When we get back to the apartment, she goes straight to her room, telling me she’s going to sleep.
And she does. For a long fucking time. In fact, at eleven at night, I climb in with her in her bed because I’m tired, but I wanna be close in case she needs something.