A Wedding And A Funeral Pt 03

Sandra and Emma have come close to having sex but stop when Emma gets a call from Roxy and Sandra gets a call from Saoirse. They wisely decide to stop and explore their options but the fates are spinning their web, and Sandra's world is rocked by shocking news. Author's note: This was supposed to be submitted last week but I got busy with another story, sorry that it's so long.

I've had a chance to read over the last chapter and it brought back some powerful memories, and by far the strongest was that sense that we were doing something forbidden at Paula's place, I guess it's a similar feeling for people having an affair. Maybe that's why it has always been so vivid, even six and a half years down the track. As to how we managed to sleep in separate beds is extraordinary, we were both turned on, and if one of us had climbed into bed with the other then it would have happened.

New Years Eve is one of the most important holidays on the planet, it marks the world's revolution around the sun. We celebrate it with fireworks, lots of drinking and most people have the night off at least, except of course for emergency services, which are sadly in huge demand. In the past I'd always looked forward to New Years Eve, especially those last ten seconds and that first kiss, I've always been lucky in that department. My first kiss was Saoirse, followed by mum and Stan, I had invited Saoirse around to share a New Years meal with us after her emotional phone call the night before. I was surprised that she actually turned up to be honest, but she was there at 7:30 with some food and a bottle of wine for mum and Stan.

I got to talk to her about the previous night as well, and her advice was spot on.

"It's good you were both able to pull back, that's happened to me a few times in the past, and I wish I'd backed off. I've got a few stones in my shoes, it's a miracle I can still walk."

She told me more about Ling as well and despite her efforts to make it sound less bad, it still made Ling look like a manipulative bitch but I didn't pass judgement on her though. Her parting comment as I walked her to her car made me wonder though.

"I can see what Emma sees in you though, you've got a good head on your shoulders. If I'd had half the common sense you've got at my age I'd have been in a lot less trouble."

She unlocked her car and opened the door.

"So, tomorrow night at my joint, huh?"

"For sure," I leaned against the door, "and then we go to Nicole's joint?"

"Yep," she tilted her head to one side and brushed her lips against mine, "see ya later hot stuff."

I had a flashback to the previous night and smiled.

After she'd gone, I went back inside and called dad and wished him and Hannah a happy new year, he sounded fairly cheerful, in fact it was the happiest I'd ever known him to be.

"Thank you, and wish your mum and Stan a happy new year too. Are they there?"

"Yeah, mum's on the toilet and Stan's doing the washing up."

"Okay, well give them both my love."

"Will do, dad," I stared at the telly, "we'll catch up soon."

"Sure, of course we will."

We talked for a bit more but then he had to go because he had an early start in the morning, a date with destiny he called it, which sounded oddly cryptic even for dad.

***

Mum woke me around 9:30. She had her phone in her hand and she was as white as a sheet, Stan was standing in the doorway of my bedroom. At first I thought I must be in a waking dream because mum was saying something but I couldn't hear the words and then I blinked and put on my glasses.

"Your father," she said, "that was the police, your father's dead, I'm so sorry."

She sat down and I blinked again.

"Dad? I just spoke to him a few hours ago?"

"I know, I know," she put a hand on my shoulder, "the police called me earlier, they're sending a car around later on, they need to ask us some questions."

"About what?" I took my glasses off and wiped my eyes, "dead?"

"His state of mind," she replied, "they think he committed suicide."

I have a blurred memory of the next couple of hours. I cried a lot, mum cried too and even Stan was a bit emotional but I think that was because we were both crying. The police came around sometime before midday and we finally found out why they wanted to talk to me.

Dad had left the house at 6:00 am and Hannah heard the car starting sometime around 6:20, she had heard the garage door opening about 6:30 and went back to sleep. However, when she woke again at 7:45 the car was still running. Puzzled, she went out to see what was wrong. The garage door was closed again and the car was still running and when she finally got inside the garage was filled with smoke. He was sitting in the driver's seat with a hose attached to the exhaust pipe leading to the passenger door.

To make matters even worse for her, he was wearing her white dress that'd gone missing a few days ago, there was a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the passenger seat and a suicide note. The car was locked and she had to get a neighbour to break the window so she could turn the engine off but by the time they got him outside he was long dead. The detectives wanted to know if I'd noticed anything peculiar about him in the last few weeks.

It was only then that the reason for giving me the camera he prized so dearly became obvious, when a person has decided to commit suicide, one of the warning signs is giving away personal things to people. Just before they do it, they can also suddenly appear very happy and relaxed.

"He also asked me to post a letter to a solicitor," I told Detective Lesley Harris.

"What was the address? Can you remember?"

I gave them the name of the firm and then added, "it was an A4 envelope, he was insistent that it get posted right away."

"Could it have been a will?" mum asked her.

"Possibly, we'll have to get a court order to look at it properly but we can ask them to verify if it is a will or not," she looked past me.

"Is there anything else you can add?"

"No," I replied, "he just seemed the happiest I've ever known. He was never very tactile, but the last time I saw him he hugged me and it felt real," I bit my lip.

"Okay, if you remember anything at all, even if it doesn't seem important call us," she gave me a card, "we're still investigating."

"How's Hannah holding up?" I asked.

"She's at the police station at the moment, she'll have to identify the body," Lesley rose and looked around the room, she settled on an old family portrait of me and dad.

"Can you tell me something? Why didn't your dad have children with Hannah?"

"I don't know," I replied.

"I do," mum spoke up, "Hannah was infertile, his sister called to tell me. We were still talking then and she came out with some comment that he'd well and truly burned his bridges because he'd been trying to start again."

"I didn't know that," I replied.

"No, you were a lot younger and by the time I thought you were old enough it'd slipped my mind, I never let him know I knew of course for obvious reasons."

The rest of the afternoon was spent calling friends and extended family. I finally told Saoirse about half past three, mainly to let her know I wasn't going to make it.

"Understandable, do you want me to drop around tomorrow or do you need some time?"

"I haven't even thought about that," I admitted, "I'll have to call Annalisa tomorrow, I don't know what their compassionate leave arrangements are."

"Do you want me to get her to call you?"

"No, it's fine but thanks. I'm sorry if I'm not good company today. I was looking forward to it last night, but say g'day to the girls even though I've never even met them."

"Will do, I'll call you in a couple of days."

"Thanks."

Emma found out after dinner and she too offered to come around but I declined. I just wanted to be with mum and Stan, nothing else mattered at the time.

"No worries."

"How're you and Roxy getting along?"

"Better now, it's early days but there's light at the end of the tunnel."

I thought of tunnels more than once over the next few days because that was all I could see. Getting time off work was easy, Michael gave me a week and that night Annalisa dropped by with flowers and a card signed by everyone.

The following day mum drove me out to Hannah's place to see how she was doing. I was shocked at what I saw. Normally, she dressed up even when she was in casual clothes and she always wore makeup but that day she was still in her pyjamas and she looked older. There were still dirty dishes in the sink and so mum washed them while I sat with Hannah and not long after we learned that the church wouldn't be doing the funeral.

"They said that the Lord said no," she stared blankly ahead, "I have to find another church or call a chapel at the cemetery."

"Let me talk to my church," I replied.

"No, I'll talk to the church," mum spoke up, "if they say yes I'll come and pick you up and take you over there."

"You'd do that?" Hannah stared at her.

"Yeah, you're not the enemy, you're my ex husband's widow."

She was as good as her word. We both went to see my minister and he agreed to host the service at the church, although I noted that mum never said how he was found.

"Not that it matters," she remarked as we walked to the car, "but I thought it best not to give her too much detail."

"It's just so, so bizarre," I replied, "the way he went."

"Your father hid a lot of secrets. I didn't know the half of it until a few years afterwards, he'd had an affair with someone from our old church, Loretta. She finally rang me to apologise a few days after she left her husband and wound up being treated the same way as me."

"But the dress?"

"His church doesn't forgive, sweetie. They talk about love till the cows come home. The Christian army is the only army that shoots its own wounded, been there, done that, got the tee shirt."

***

Funerals are generally soul-destroying events. The person you've come to see is lying in a box and doesn't even know you exist. If you're lucky the minister or public official in charge of the eulogy has at the very least known the deceased. The eulogy usually praises the recently departed, even if they were a drug-dealing serial killer, to the mourners they were a loving husband, father, son, even if they deprived other families of their family members. In the years since I've often wondered why we do that. Is it because as evil as they are, we're reminded of our own mortality? Is it superstition or just plain old-fashioned habit?

My dad wasn't evil, he was misguided and he made his fair share of mistakes but I couldn't help but feel hurt that he'd chosen to end his life. They say that suicide is an act of bravery but I say it's the supreme act of cowardice and selfishness, you are electing to end your miserable life and prevent anyone else from trying to help you. The one bright spot however was the presence of my friends, old and new. Annalisa, Saoirse, Emma, Robyn, two school friends and to my surprise, Nicole and Zara, sitting down the back with Saoirse.

It was ironic that lesbians turned out to farewell my homophobic father who'd killed himself while dressed in his wife's dress but it painted a vivid description of two opposing worlds. My gay friends knew the circumstances of his death, my school friends just knew he'd killed himself, but none of his friends from church were there. His widow sat with mum, if he'd been alive I doubt they'd have sat together. My friends from church may not have turned up if they'd known the real circumstances of his death, and they were noticeably quieter afterwards. None stayed for the luncheon the church put on in the hall later, making excuses about having to get to work.

The hall was only booked for an hour though, it was a buffet dinner that mum and Hannah paid for and later on we went to the cemetery out near Eltham to watch his coffin being lowered into a hole in the ground. I farewelled Hannah at the cemetery and that was the last I saw of her for about three weeks and when we met again it'd be under very difficult and different circumstances.

I was back at work the following week, the courts weren't due to open again for another week, but law firms all over town were gearing up for the first week of trials. Despite my grief it was a relief to be kept so busy and Annalisa was there in the background, a constant reassurance that I had the support I needed. She wasn't the only one though. Saoirse also kept contact, we hadn't seen each other since the funeral but she rang or texted every couple of days. Emma called too but she was working and in her spare time she was spending time with Roxy, and Roxy's ex husband was on remand, the committal was on Wednesday in Ringwood.

Ironically, his lawyer was from our firm, but it wasn't Annalisa. He got a suspended sentence and a fine, the judge granted a restraining order forbidding him from going within 500 metres of her. His firearms were also taken away and kept in storage for twelve months. It's the rule of thumb these days, even if there is no history of domestic violence. I wasn't at the trial but Emma came to see me afterwards at work.

"I'm still a bit worried," she told me as she leaned on the reception counter, "what if he hires some guy to attack her?"

I glanced over at Roberta, who had been his lawyer and she shrugged.

"The first suspect is always the ex, his alibi would have to be watertight but the police will offer all kinds of inducements to get a third party to roll over. I've seen more than one instance where the code of silence in the underworld was shattered because some drug lord short changed his hitmen," she flicked at her hair.

"But don't worry too much about that. I've impressed on him that if he attacks her again the judge will cancel the suspended sentence and he'll be sent to jail for the next three years. Judges tend to look down on these things, it's something I stress to all my clients, if you fuck up, the best I can do is plead for less time behind bars and attacking her will also incur another charge of assault that's added onto the original sentence," she looked past her.

"It'd mean automatic jail time and even though he puts on a tough guy act," she looked at her, "he's nothing compared to the guys in jail, they'd eat him for breakfast."

"Does that answer your question?" I asked Emma.

"Yeah it does, thanks."

"No worries," Roberta stepped away, "well, I've got to meet another client, take care," and with that she walked away.

"Thank you," Emma smiled at me, "um, I better get going, Roxy and I are going for a late lunch."

"Of course, is everything all right between you two?"

"It's looking good but everything's up in the air though. I'm not pushing it."

"Just get to know her as a friend first, it's called courting. If you can't agree on which café serves the better coffee then you should probably think twice about getting intimate with her."

"Thanks," she smiled tightly.

I felt a little depressed after she and Roxy left. Part of me was still recalling that night at Paula's, but the more sensible part was relieved that we'd both emerged from it as friends.

"Consider yourselves fortunate," Annalisa told me later when I admitted my confusion, "it's a rarity to be able to maintain a friendship after going that far."

"Well, we never actually had sex, so technically I'm still a virgin, she never even touched me down there," I muttered.

"Technically, yes, but I wouldn't use penetration as a benchmark. That's a male thing, but women don't have to penetrate each other to achieve orgasm."

I was about to answer her when my phone rang and we both looked down at the screen, it was mum and Annalisa stood up.

"Answer it while I make another coffee."

I answered the phone as Annalisa exited her office.

"Mum? What's up?"

"Has your dad's lawyer called you yet?"

"No, not yet, why?"

"They'll probably call you in a few minutes, I just got off the phone to her. Your dad changed his will just before he died, and apparently I've been mentioned along with you."

"Me?" I flinched as my phone beeped and I looked at the screen, "I think that's them calling now."

"Answer it, we'll talk tonight."

The woman I spoke to on the other line a few seconds later introduced herself as Sarah Davis-Smith of MacMillan, MacDonald and Associates, probate lawyers. I recalled the company name and Sarah explained that the will had been changed to include myself and mum.

"The reading takes place next Friday the twentieth at our office, can you be there at eleven?"

"Um, sure, I can get time off, I think."

"Well if not that's fine, but if not can you email me and let me know, please?"

"Sure, I will."

Annalisa reassured me that I'd get the time off when she returned with two coffees.

"We can give you the morning off or the day off, but if it's a day then it's compassionate leave."

"I'm still trying to work out why mum's a beneficiary."

"Considering the way he ended his life I'd suggest your dad was having an affair."

"Hannah will be devastated."

Mum was in agreement there when we talked about it over dinner.

"It puts me in a difficult spot with a woman I have little in common with, asides from the obvious," she pushed her plate aside, "I was supportive a couple of weeks ago but that was out of humanity, if he's named me as a beneficiary then it makes things harder."

"Maybe I should call Saoirse?"

"Do it, invite her around on Friday or Saturday."

Saoirse though wasn't able to come around on either night.

"I'm going into the city on Friday night and I'm out with Nicole and Tillie on Saturday night, but how's about you and I meet for coffee on Sunday? We can go back to your bit afterwards."

"Sunday I'm going to see Robyn, I've got to pick up some more clothes."

"No problem, we'll go for coffee at that tearoom, go to Penny and Robyn's house and then go back to your bit later to see your mum."

"Okay, cool. You can stay for tea if you want."

"Grand," she replied, "looking forward to it."

***

The rest of the week was busy, but on the home front it was relaxed, which was a relief after the drama of the first two weeks of the new year. The only interesting thing to happen was on Friday when Emma dropped in to see me after work, I was playing Trivial Pursuit with mum and Stan, as I recall it, I was winning and Stan was second.

"You look worried," mum stated the obvious.

"Kind of," she replied, "Paula wants to see me Sunday night. I was supposed to be at work but she's told me she'll pay me for not working if I come up to see her."

"Can we take a break for a few minutes?" I glanced at mum.

"Sure," she rose, "perfect timing, I've got to go to the loo."

We decamped to the kitchen where we were out of hearing range.

"Is this about what happened between us the other week?"

"It possibly is about that," she confessed, "it's got me worried."

"Still, if she's paying you for a shift you haven't actually worked it can't be that bad."

"Unless that's her way of sacking me."

"Do you want me to give her a character reference?"

"Maybe, just let me find out what it's all about although if it's about that then the reference won't do anything. It could make things worse."

"I get it, so what about Roxy?"

"Um, we've decided to just stay friends for now. She's still going through shit and I can't pretend to know how she feels, I've never been married."

"Well, I'm here for you, okay?"

"Thanks," she squeezed my arm, "look, I gotta get going but I'll call you Sunday night and if not then it'll be Monday, okay?"

"Okay," I gave her a brief hug, "remember to keep your cool, be calm and respectful."

"What was all that about?" mum asked me after Emma had left.

I wasn't going to tell her anything about what we'd done but the anxiety I was feeling took over and so I told her about that Friday night when we'd pashed on together.