Page 4 of Home Is Where the Bodies Are

His gaze glides around me. “Can I see Mom?” he asks.

I move to the side and pull the covers from her face so Michael can get a glimpse. It’s not Mom though. It’s just a body. If it were Mom, she’d be smiling, but instead her jaw is slack. Her eyes would be bright and animated, but they’re clouded and still. She doesn’t look peaceful in death.

My throat tightens, and I swallow hard. I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to be the strongest. “Do you want a moment?”

I see his eyes go to her but he has a blank expression. I wonder if he’s trying to be strong too. Then again, he was never one to cry. None of us were. Dad raised us to be strong and stoic. I remember his words,If you can control your emotions, you can control anything. He made it seem like it was some sort of superpower. But really it was just a terrible coping mechanism—one that left us unprepared when he disappeared.

Michael’s steps are slow and cautious as he walks toward me. I don’t know what to do or how to act. When he reaches his hand out, I nearly flinch. He rests it on my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Beth.”

I stare back at him, chewing on several sentences before I finally spit one out. “I’m sorry you weren’t too,” I say, stepping away from him. His hand slides from my shoulder, returning to his side. You know how they say there are some relationships you can slip in and out of, that even if a lot of time has gone by, you just pick up where you left off? This isn’t one of them.

“I’ll be in the kitchen. I’m gonna try to get ahold of Marissa to let her know what happened,” I add.

Michael simply nods. He doesn’t ask about my daughter, his only niece. Instead, he turns from me and takes a seat beside the bed. Leaning forward, he props his elbows on the mattress. Mom’s small hand disappears in his as he lowers his head and buries his face into what’s left of her. There are murmured whispers, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. It’s like he’s a child again, asking for forgiveness after he’d done something wrong—but Mom’s gone, and she can’t forgive him... She can’t forgive any of us anymore.

FOUR

BETH

I sip at a four-finger pour of Seagram’s 7 whiskey. The apricot sweetness dissipates as soon as it touches my taste buds and is quickly overpowered by a flavor best described as weak rubbing alcohol. Another thing my mother enjoyed on the rarest of occasions. This swill was a treat for her. It’s cheap, and it doesn’t taste good. But sometimes it’s the bad things in life that make us feel the most alive. I lean against the kitchen counter, waiting for a call back from my daughter. A fly buzzes around the sliced tomato I left out, the sandwich I never finished making. I consider killing it, but there’s been enough death in this house for one day, so I let it frolic in the tomato water. At least someone is enjoying it.

I don’t know what to do with myself right now, other than drink bad whiskey. Each gulp pushes the grief down a little further. I should be planning the funeral, but I don’t even know what Mom wanted. Every time I brought it up, she’d say, “Let’s talk about that later.” Well, now there’s no time to discuss it at all.

My phone rings. It’s my daughter, Marissa.

“Hello,” I say. There’s static. We have a bad connection. Then again, we’ve had that for a long time.

“Hi, Mom. My sergeant told me you called. What’s up?” she asks. It’s noisy on her end. Heavy machinery, engines roaring, lots of chatter. “You coming, Thomas?” a man yells. Marissa sounds farther away as she says, “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

I can tell when the phone is pressed to her ear again because her voice is louder. “Mom, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. How have you been?” I’m not ready to tell her about her grandma. I’m not even sure how much it’ll affect her. They were close, up until seven years ago when my dad disappeared. That changed my mom. It made her detached and guarded all at the same time. It had the same effect on me. Someone choosing to leave your life is a hard thing to live with. And I didn’t live with it well. I pushed Marissa away without even realizing. My mom did too, and I don’t think we noticed, until the whole world was between us. Marissa’s been stationed on a navy base in South Korea for over a year, and before that she was in training, so she hasn’t even seen her grandma in over two years. She could have been stationed in the Great Lakes, close to home, but of course she chose a place as far away as she possibly could. If they would have offered to station her on the moon, I’m sure she would have said yes.

“Busy, real busy. Sorry I haven’t rang in a while. Is that why you called?” she asks.

I sip the Seagram’s again, holding it in my mouth for a moment before swallowing. I don’t know why I do that. Maybe I’m punishing myself.

“No. I called because...” My eyes go back to the fly. It’s flipped on its back in the tomato water. Dead. Too much of a good thing. “Your grandma passed today.” There’s a lump in my throat. It’s a sob. I chug the rest of the whiskey, forcing it down again.

“What? Mom, I’m so sorry,” she says—because it’s my loss, not hers. “Are you okay? Do you want me to come home? I can see if they’ll give me leave.”

“I’m...” It takes me a moment to settle on the right word.Okay, no.Good, too flippant.Fine. That works. I am fine. I’m not okay. But I’m fine. It’s the safety blanket of emotions. “Fine. And if you can come, I’d like that.”

There’s silence, and I worry the phone has cut out. I pull it from my ear and look at the display screen. The call time is still ticking away.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll see what I can do.” There’s a beat of silence. “Does Dad know?” she adds. I know then she won’t come. She’s making sure there’s someone here to comfort me. My ex-husband won’t be jumping at that opportunity, and I wouldn’t want him to. I haven’t spoken to him since Marissa left for the navy. Plus, he gave up on us a year after my dad disappeared.

He didn’t disappear.

“No, he doesn’t know yet.”

“What about Aunt Nicole?” she asks.

I’m taken back by the mention of my sister. I cut her out of my life nearly a year ago, after she became too unpredictable and too dangerous to be around. I never told Marissa how bad it was because I figured she was on the other side of the world anyway, so Nicole couldn’t hurt her.

“I haven’t been able to get ahold of her,” I say frankly.

Silence.

---