Observer by Robert Lanza

Author:Robert Lanza
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fiction Studio Books
Published: 2022-09-29T18:11:21+00:00

26.

The memorial service was held two days later, at Jackson’s. Caro had been afraid that nobody would attend, but she’d underestimated Mrs. Foster, who possessed the organizational skills of a presidential campaign chairman. Mrs. Foster borrowed Ellen’s address book (who kept a paper address book anymore?) and made calls. The small room, with an urn holding Angelica’s ashes and a picture of Ellen holding Angelica, was crowded. Old friends that Caro hadn’t realized Ellen had kept in touch with. Neighbors. Church ladies. The home-care help for Angelica. The mechanic who kept Ellen’s shaky car on the road.

Ellen was not able to leave the hospital.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” Mrs. Foster said, “that I couldn’t get no relatives to come. I tried, Doctor. I called Angelica’s father’s parole officer and—”

“That number was in the address book?” Caro said, startled.

“—and he said that man just got sent to jail somewhere in Nebraska. I called the number for Ellen’s mother, and somebody there said both your parents are dead.”

“Yes,” Caro said. “They are. Thank you for all you’ve done, Mrs. Foster.”

“She’s a good woman, your sister.”

Kayla, who’d insisted on wearing her darkest clothing, a black tee-shirt with a polka-dot navy mini-skirt, sat dry-eyed and tight-lipped through the brief service. She refused to hold Caro’s hand. People stood and spoke, more about Ellen than Angelica, and Mrs. Foster must have organized that, too. Caro braced herself for the inevitable questions afterward, but Mrs. Foster took the microphone last and said, “Now, Doctor Soames-Watkins got to get Kayla home, so thank you for coming. Anybody who wants to make a donation in Angelica’s name can send a check to the Fairleigh Memorial Children’s Services. Now please let Kayla and her aunt pass on by.”

Caro rose, grateful, and led Kayla along the aisle between the rows of folding chairs toward the exit. In the last row sat Julian.

She almost stumbled, so surprised to see him. Only after she had Kayla seat-belted into Ellen’s ancient Chevy did Caro wonder if she was supposed to have Angelica’s ashes with her.

Mrs. Foster would bring them.

At Ellen’s, Kayla went straight to her room and closed the door. Since yesterday, her grief had turned from intermittent sobbing in Caro’s arms to a stony silence that refused all contact. Caro, both hurt and confused, found all her efforts to talk to Kayla were rebuffed. Why? What was going on in the little girl’s mind?

Weary, Caro made herself a cup of coffee, which tasted sour in her empty stomach. She was waiting for the inevitable. Nobody flew from the Cayman Islands to attend a forty-five-minute makeshift funeral and then go away again.

A knock on the door. “Julian. Why are you here? Did my great-uncle send you?”

“No. Yes. It’s more complicated than that. May I come in?”

She didn’t answer, which he took for assent. To Julian’s credit, he not only didn’t comment on the shabby living room, he appeared to not even notice it. She did not ask him to sit down, the memory of their last encounter raw in her mind.

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