Jarillo Sunset Read online

  “But the smell! How can anyone live in it with that smell?” Kathy grimaced.

  “We would have it professionally cleaned. There are products that can be used to eliminate the smell,” he replied.

  Char’s mother came up behind her, and Char turned to her and asked, “Do you think there’s anything else in there that we would need to get?”

  “Why don’t you go back in and get the pictures he has on the dresser, and look through one last time and see if there’s anything else you’d like to have. You should go in there too, Kathy. Your father has a lot of pictures of you when you were younger, when you got married, and stuff like that.”

  “Okay, we’ll go back in one more time, and I’ll come back later and pack up his stuff and donate it.”

  “If you’d like, I can get his stuff out and donate it for you. Save you the hassle of doing it,” the older man said.

  “That would be very kind of you, and a huge help to me.”

  “No problem. I’d like to get the trailer cleaned out as soon as possible so we can rent it.”

  “I would certainly appreciate your help. We should be done within the hour, and then you can get started whenever you’re ready.”

  “Okey-dokey, thank you,” he said and got back into his car and drove away.

  Kathy brought her shirt up to cover her nose as she and Char walked back into the trailer and looked through everything one last time. They went to the bedroom and sorted all the pictures between them silently, both doing their own thinking.

  Kathy broke the silence. “Why do you supposed he never showed himself to us when he obviously had come around a few times?”

  “I don’t know why. I wish I did,” Char said.

  “How can you have so much compassion and care so much for someone who was never in our life, Char?” Kathy pulled out a picture of herself when she was in fifth grade.

  “Maybe it’s because I’m a lot like him,” Char answered cynically.

  “Why? Because you left us and went down to New Mexico?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” Char remarked.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m having a problem conjuring up feelings of remorse for him. I think he was abusive to us in his own way,” Kathy said with a disapproving note in her voice.

  “What do you mean abusive?” Char narrowed her eyes at her sister.

  “Well, calling us on the phone and making promises and never keeping them. Telling us that he’s won a lot of money and telling us he wanted to be a part of our lives and then never showing up. In the end, I refused to answer his calls or talk to him. I figured if he couldn’t give me the time of day when I was growing up, why should I give him the time of day as an adult? But look at you.” Kathy stared at Char. “You let him call you and talk to you, and now here you are making his funeral arrangements and sad about doing it even though he constantly made promises he had no intention of keeping when he was alive.”

  Char started to comment but decided that nothing she said would make a difference to Kathy so she wouldn’t waste her time trying.

  When they were done, they walked back out and got into the car. “Got everything you want?” their mother asked.

  “Yeah, there was nothing much there,” Kathy remarked.

  Char didn’t say anything. She wondered if what Kathy said about him being abusive was really true, or if Kathy was just hurting because of their dad’s rejection.

  They drove back to the funeral home and gave the funeral director the clothes.

  “Your father will be ready for viewing on Thursday at one and then transported at four to the crematorium. Is there anything else that I can assist you with?” Mr. Whitely asked Char.

  “No. Thank you,” Char replied, giving him a sad smile.

  Chapter 21

  Char was just as quiet going back to her mother’s house as she had been when they were on the way to the funeral home. She had a lot of unanswered questions, and wondered if any of them would ever be answered in her lifetime. Her thoughts came back to the present when she heard her mother say, “Max and I were always fighting. He was an alcoholic and a gambler, and he never changed. That was all he ever wanted to be. He didn’t want a family to burden him, and just because he had pictures of you girls in his bedroom, that doesn’t make up for the fact that he couldn’t even give you girls the time of day. Max and I hooking up was the worst mistake I ever made. The only good that came out of that relationship were you two girls. Otherwise, I hate the man and I hate what he’s done to you both.”

  “It’s hard to give a crap about a person who didn’t really want anything to do with you,” Kathy said bitterly.

  When they got back to the house, Char went upstairs to her room to call Vincent and think about things. She scrolled down the caller ID list until she came to Vincent’s number and she hit send.

  He answered on the third ring. “Hey, Char. How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay I guess,” Char said, her voice downcast. “It’s kind of hard making funeral arrangements for someone when the people around you have nothing good or nice to say about the deceased and constantly remind you of that person’s failures. I’ve had to listen to both Mom and Kathy bad-mouth Dad. I know he wasn’t a good father, but I’m trying to show some compassion and understanding. I’m trying to understand what made him the way he was. You know, he’s not here to defend himself, and I just get tired of hearing about how bad he was.”

  “Hmm. It sounds like your father’s death has affected them more than they realize and they’re acting out the only way they know how,” Vincent said quietly.

  “Yes, but it’s upsetting me. My stomach is in knots, and just thinking about eating makes it worse. I wish I had just stayed in a motel in Kalamazoo and made all the arrangements myself without them tagging along. I know they think they’re being supportive, but listening to their snide remarks and negative comments makes me want to scream at them to shut up.”

  Vincent was quiet on the other end of the line.

  “I’m sorry, Vincent, I shouldn’t take it out on you.” Char swallowed hard.

  “Not at all. You’re fine. You need to vent, and that’s what I’m here for. Are the arrangements all made now?”

  “Yes, the visitation is at one on Thursday, and then they’re going to cremate him and send his ashes to me. I’ll figure out someplace to put his urn later. We had to go to his trailer and go through his stuff. I found his papers, and also, he had a lot of pictures of us as kids growing up that he had taken at a distance. He had taken a picture of me and Kathy during a piano recital, pictures of Kathy at her wedding, and pictures at both our graduations. Vincent, he was at all those places and saw us, but he never came up to talk to us or show that he was there. Why? Why would he not let us know he was there?” Char cried bitterly through the cascade of tears.

  “I don’t know why, honey. If I did, I’d tell you,” Vincent said gently.

  “I know.” Char sniffed. “I can’t wait until this is over with and I come back to New Mexico. I’m just not comfortable here, and I want to get away from here.”

  “When are you planning on coming back?” Vincent asked.

  “Friday.”

  “Have you booked your flight yet?”

  “No, I’m going to do that after I hang up from talking with you. I needed to get some things off my chest. I love my mom and my sister a lot, but being with them is hard.”

  “Okay, let me know when your flight is scheduled to arrive, and I’ll try to pick you up.”

  “Okay.” Char hiccupped.

  A knock sounded at Char’s door, and then it opened slightly. “Char?” Joannie called. “Mom has some sandwiches for us to eat to carry us over until dinner tonight.”

  “Okay, I’ll be down in a second,” Char said. “Well, I guess I have to go, Vincent. Mom apparently made something for us to eat, and I’m going to have to try and choke it down.”

  “Okay. Call me later with your flight plans, and if you need to, we ca
n talk some more.”

  Char assured him she would, then ended the call and started to leave the bedroom. As she was walking to the door, her cellphone rang. “Hello?” she answered.

  “Is this Charlene Johnson?” the caller asked.

  “Yes. Who is this please?”

  “My name is Rueben Bernstine. I’m your father’s attorney. First, let me tell you how sorry I am for your father’s passing. I had the pleasure of meeting with him just two weeks ago when he was in here finalizing his last will and testament.”

  “Thank you,” Char said. Last will and testament? “What can I do for you?” she asked.

  “Your father had made some provisions for you. I need to have you come to the office and meet with me so we can read his will and settle his estate.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had a will or that he had an estate that needed to be settled.”

  “Yes, he has quite an estate, but I can’t go into it on the phone. When can we meet?”

  “Um, his funeral is Thursday, and I’m leaving to go back to New Mexico on Friday as soon as I can book my flight.”

  “Would Friday at nine work for you?” Mr. Bernstine asked.

  “Yeah, I guess that will work,” Char said reluctantly. “Should I bring my mother and my sister?”

  “If you wish to do so, that is fine,” Mr. Bernstine answered.

  “Okay, thank you. I’ll see you Friday at nine. Where are you located?”

  “We’re located at 2579 South Westnedge in Kalamazoo. The name of the building is Law Offices of Bernstine and Bradford. I have you down for nine on Friday, and I look forward to meeting you then.”

  Char walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Kathy, Joannie, and her mother were already eating sandwiches. She made a sandwich for herself and then told her mother and Kathy, “I got a call from Dad’s lawyer. I have to meet with him on Friday at nine to go over his will and estate.”

  Her mother frowned. “He had a will? What estate are they talking about?”

  “I don’t know what kind of estate he has, but apparently he has one and the attorney needs to meet with me.”

  Kathy rolled her eyes. “Great,” she muttered.

  “You don’t have to go, Kathy. Mom, you don’t have to go either. I can handle it by myself. Maybe I’ll try and get a flight out from Kalamazoo after the meeting.”

  “No, we’ll go with you,” her mother insisted. “I don’t want either of you girls doing anything without your family there to support you.”

  After eating lunch, Char went back upstairs to her room and called the airline to book a flight. She managed to get the last seat available on the six PM flight out of Detroit. She was going to try to get a seat on the plane out of Kalamazoo, but her mother asked her to stay longer so the family could get together later in the day for dinner.

  She called Vincent that evening with her flight plans and talked with him for about an hour.

  “The last time I talked to my dad, a few weeks ago, I went to bed that night and had a dream that Mom called me and told me he died. I wonder if that was some sort of karma preparing me for this.”

  “That could have been your intuition talking to you. Mine talks to me all the time.”

  “Really? Do you think people really have some sort of extra-sensory perception?” Char asked.

  “Yes, my grandfather was the shaman of his tribe. He could sense or read people and events. I also have that ability.”

  “Do you have any sense or read on what will happen with you and me?” Char asked, intrigued.

  “I have a very definite read on us, but I can’t share it with you.” Vincent’s voice was so warm she could sense a smile in it.

  “Why not?” Char prodded.

  “You need to come to your own conclusions without interference from me. One of the important things about this extra-sensory perception is knowing when to speak of it and when not to.”

  Char was quiet for a few minutes as she thought about that.

  “What are you doing right now?” Vincent asked.

  “I’m curled up here on my bed, wishing I was curled up next to you with my head on your chest and your arms around me.”

  “Two more days, honey, and we’ll be doing just that.”

  Even though men have been calling women ‘honey’ for ages, it warmed her heart each time Vincent called her by the endearment.

  “Vincent?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I miss you,” Char said, barely a whisper.

  “I miss you too, honey.”

  “This just seems so—right between us.”

  “Maybe because it is right,” Vincent said gently.

  * * * *

  Vincent was working the bar about eight in the morning on Thursday when a woman said, “Hello, Vinnie.”

  He knew that voice—Tammie. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t seen her arrive.

  He looked over at her, taking in her flirty, pouting lips. “What do you want?” he asked her stiffly.

  “Vodka and water,” she said seductively.

  He raised his eyebrows as he mixed the drink for her. “A little early to be drinking the heavy stuff, isn’t it?”

  “Well, my heart is heavy. I lost my daddy and my ex-husband keeps pushing me away,” she said, still pouting.

  “It’s too bad about your dad, but as far as I am concern, I belong to someone else and you need to get on with your life without me.”

  “Who is she, Vinnie? What does she have that I don’t have?”

  “Never mind who she is. She has qualities like humanity, caring, love, gentleness, conscientiousness, a work ethic…you know, all the stuff you don’t have.”

  “Oh,” she said sadly.

  “Any further contact you make with me, I will consider it as stalking, and if I have to, I’ll file a formal complaint against you. I want you to stay away from me and from the woman I love.”

  “Can’t we be friends, Vinnie? We’ve known each other since we were kids.” Tammie sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye.

  “No. You use friends. I’m not available for you to use or walk all over again,” Vincent reaffirmed sternly.

  Tammie threw a five dollar bill down on the counter and tossed back the rest of her drink. “All right, Vinnie, if you want it that way.” she said sadly. She walked away, looking downtrodden.

  * * * *

  Thursday mid-morning Char came downstairs in her suit, ready to leave to head over to the funeral home.

  “Well, look at you, so professional looking and all, you look sharp,” her mother said.

  “Thanks. Umm, Mom, you don’t have to go to this funeral. I can handle it by myself. I know the last thing you want to do is see my dad or be near him.”

  Her mother smiled. “I know, sweetheart, but I want to be there for you. I don’t know if anyone is going to show up. I don’t know if your father had any friends or if any of his co-workers will be there. But at least the three of us will be.”

  Kathy walked in the back door and put her purse down on the table. “Are we ready to get this over with?” she asked caustically.

  “Kathy, let’s try to keep rhetoric down today, shall we?” their mother said dryly.

  Kathy let out a big sigh and turned and walked out the door. Char and her mother followed.

  When they arrived at the funeral home they were greeted by the usher. He led them to the room where the viewing would take place. Char walked up to the casket and looked at her father. It didn’t even look like her father, and she wondered if it was because they had the wrong body or because she hadn’t seen her dad since she was seven years old. She looked back at her mother with tears in her eyes. “Is this really him?”

  Her mother looked at the body and then at Char. “Yes, Char, it’s really him.” Her mother glanced around the room and whispered, “Look at all the flowers and the plants he has.”

  Char looked around and was surprised. She walked up to the plants and looked at the names o
n the cards. There were none she recognized except one. There was a beautiful spray of white lilies and chrysanthemums and the card read From Vincent, Debbie, Rosie, and Jonathan.

  “Those sure are pretty. Do you know the people listed on the card?” her mother asked.

  “Yes, they’re my friends in New Mexico.”

  “Look, here’s a plant from my husband’s work,” Kathy said, admiring it.

  “That was nice of them,” their mother remarked, putting an arm around Kathy as they looked over the plants.

  Shortly after one, people from the Kellogg Company came in to pay their respects. They introduced themselves and talked about Maxwell Johnson as if they all liked him and enjoyed his company. One older gentleman came up to Char and said, “I was the one that found him at his trailer. He didn’t show up for his retirement party, and we wondered what happened to him so I decided to pay him a visit to make sure he was okay. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

  Char smiled at him. “Thank you, and thank you for going to check on him. I don’t know when anyone would have discovered him if you hadn’t done that.”

  Char went to the other side of the funeral parlor and was watching the people standing by her father’s body when a younger gentleman came up to her. “Are you Char?” he asked.

  Char flicked a gaze over to him. “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m Dan Pollack, and I’m with Alcoholics Anonymous. I wanted to stop by and offer my sympathy on your father’s passing and let you know that he had been sober for over six months.”

  Char looked at him confused. “Are you sure you have the right person?”

  “Oh yes, I have the right person—Maxwell Johnson. I’ve been his sponsor for six months. I was assigned as his sponsor the first night he came in to the AA meeting wanting help to stop drinking. He said the doctor told him that he had cirrhosis of the liver, and needed to quit or he was going to kill himself.”

  Char looked at the gentleman for a few minutes. “I’m shocked. He told me a few weeks ago that he couldn’t give up drinking and gambling because he’d have nothing to live for.”

  Char’s mother had quietly walked up to stand beside her, and she wrapped her arm around Char’s waist while she was talking to Dan.