She gave me a disapproving look. One I’d received multiple times in life. “It’s disrespectful. This is a funeral, Katy. It’s time for the family to come together and show Nanna respect.”
I loved my mother more than anyone. No one had a better mom, and I lived a good childhood. I had little to complain about, but she resembled a bulldozer someone left running at a construction site overnight. If you let her go on too long, you’d wake up the next morning and your life would be in complete tatters.
“Nanna would be furious if we showed up in black.”
Her frown increased. “Your grandmother went senile at the end. One time she told me she saw a UFO.”
My grandma did not go senile. The older she got, the less crap she put up with, especially from her family members—my mother mostly. One great ongoing Kadish conflict always revolved around my grandmother. Somehow I turned out more like Nanna than my mom.
I wanted to live life to the fullest. To see the UFOs and maybe have a talk with an alien or two. Mom would run in the other direction and let the US government handle an alien invasion, but everyone knew in time of crisis you didn’t go to an under-funded government bureaucracy for help. It’s why most the townspeople called the phone tree rather than the Pelican Bay police department when they had an issue.
I wanted passion. To live life. I wanted to look back on my past and have no regrets. They’d chisel my grave stone with the words, “A woman who lived with zest in all things.” I didn’t just want to take life by the horns like a bull. I planned to mount it and ride him across the countryside, even if that field happened to be right here in Pelican Bay.
I didn’t plan to die as a famous musician and or politician, but when I left this earth, I’d leave a positive impact in my community. The greatest adventure involved a well-lived life.
That was a life worth living.
My grandmother may have ticked people off and gotten into her share of squabbles with women at the auxiliary, but she knew exactly who she was and her beliefs in the world—something I still struggled to figure out for myself.
My mother wanted things to look pretty. She cared about impressions and the post-funeral gossip. As long as everyone could take a picture and qualify for the Martha Stewart Magazine, she considered it perfect. But why have the fine China only sitting in the hutch as a decoration if you were never going to use it? You’d waste it. All of it. The China, the life, everything.
I tossed the three pairs of black leggings over a chair in the corner of the room, which already held a significant pile of other clothing I planned to take care of one day and then sat on the bed. The mattress squeaked, which was enough noise for my mother to pull her head from the closet.
She held a dark blue dress in one hand and the skirt waved around her. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing.”
My mother rehung the dress and settled beside me. “It doesn’t sound like nothing. That sigh said it’s definitely something.”
She had me there. But I couldn’t tell my mother the real problem.
Pierce’s tongue.
No matter how hard I tried, I’d never forget the things he did. It ticked me off. Not the orgasm. I enjoyed that. The part where I didn’t stop thinking about him. I needed to argue with my mother about Nanna’s shitty funeral, but as every second ticked by, I wanted to march over to Pierce’s house and yell at him for making me happy. In those few minutes I spent with him, I forgot my troubles and relaxed.
I definitely should not be relaxing around Pierce Kensington.
He lied about his fiancée. I should hate him forever.
“You know I’m still your mother. Every once in a while, I’m available for a good piece of advice,” my mother prodded.
I relented. “It’s this guy.”
She made her neighborhood famous tsk sound I dreaded hearing as a young child. You learned really fast that when Mom gave out a good tsk, you’d better prepare for a lecture.
“Katy, the men here are so…” she’s searched for a nice derogatory word to use.
“Mom, Dad is from Pelican Bay.” Plus, the fact they raised me in this town before my mother finally convinced him to relocate.
“Yes, but the important fact is he got away. Come to Portland with your father and me. There are better men there. I bet you find someone within the first month.”
“No thanks,” I said, barely able to hold back a cringe. I’d visited her in Portland more than once and let’s say I didn’t find it appealing. There were too many people and too many main streets even if they did have different names.
“You need to do something with your life, Katy. And I don’t mean finding a job,” she continued when I tried to cut her off. “I mean, honey, are you happy?”
I spoke the truth. “Yes, I am.” Life here was perfect. I lived in a great house right across from the ocean and I had the most amazing set of friends. What else did a girl need?
She patted my leg. “No, I mean really happy. Are you doing what you want to do in life?”
