Page 217 of The Holy Grail
When they stepped into Monroe’s closet, Malcom was dumbfounded at the number of black suits there were.
“This one was his favorite,” Martin said, picking out one and holding it up.
“How could you possibly know?” Malcom asked. “They all look the same.”
“It’s the one he always wore on the first day of every trial. For good luck.”
Martin then picked out Monroe’s favorite red tie, and his nicest shoes. Per his instructions, he wasn’t to be buried with any of his ‘jewelry’, which was to be divided between his two sons. Not surprisingly, Monroe owned numerous pairs of cufflinks, lapel stick pins, tie clips, tie tacks, and collar bars. He also had at least a dozen watches, none of which was the one Malcom had given him, which shouldn’t have been disappointing, but was.
If Martin thought it strange his brother didn’t seem interested in taking anything, he kept it to himself.
As they headed out of the penthouse, with Martin carrying the suit and shoes, Malcom paused to look out the living room windows at the city below. It was definitely a hell of a view, but there was no warmth to it, much like the entire penthouse.
“What an empty fucking life,” he murmured.
Chapter 73
Putting the ‘fun’ in funeral
Malcom probably shouldn’t have been shocked to see so many people in the church for the funeral, but he was. It seemed like every lawyer in the state had come to pay their respects to Monroe, and they all seemed to have gotten their suits at the same place.
It was a sea of black.
Martin’s wife, Isabel, and their two daughters, Rachael and Chelsea, were there and met Jules and Evan for the first time.
It was obvious, when making introductions, that Martin didn’t know anything about Jules, therefore Monroe must not have ever mentioned her, even in passing, indicating he didn’t talk much about Malcom with Martin.
Malcom made the suggestion to wait until after the funeral to inform Martin of the relationship with Jules and Evan, mostly because of the timing, but also because telling Martin wasn’t a priority.
The service was long, with the priest rambling on for what seemed like an hour. Malcom fidgeted the entire time, unable to stand being in the front pew, even with Beverly, Jules, and Evan with him. The row behind them was occupied by Evangeline, Paige, and David, whose presence was appreciated, even if Malcom didn’t talk to them very much.
At the end of the service, everyone got to file past the open casket. It was almost unnerving to see Monroe in a preserved state, and as Malcom was ‘viewing’ the body, he looked at the carefully made-up face and felt more than a hint of nausea. He did takethe time, however, to lean in and whisper, “You died before I could tell you to go fuck yourself, and that’s what I’m mourning today.”
With no graveside service, the funeral attendees went straight to the reception afterward at Martin’s house, which was predictably grand, and large enough to accommodate several hundred people. He’d hired caterers and waitstaff, plus had a fully stocked bar (which Malcom decided he was going to pay a visit to very shortly), and had arranged outdoor seating for possible overflow from the house.
Surrounded by high-priced lawyers, many of whom were colleagues, Martin was in his element, while Malcom was decidedly uncomfortable. However, as one of Monroe’s sons, being sociable was expected. It was a struggle, though, because not only was he not stricken with grief, it was actually upsetting to have everyone tell him what an amazing man Monroe was. It was as if they were talking about a man Malcom had never met, when they said things like Monroe was ‘kind’, had a ‘wicked’ sense of humor, and he was ‘generous’, with both his time and money.
It started to really piss Malcom off that he’d never known that man.
After what seemed like the one hundredth person had extolled the virtues of the man who’d basically told his son being into men wasn’t an option, Malcom started to push back a little. When one person commented on Monroe’s exemplary drive and dedication to the law, Malcom agreed, and after tilting his glass of scotch as if preparing to make a toast, replied, “He was so dedicated, our family trip to Disneyland got cancelled one year … and that same dedication kept us from ever going in the future.” Malcom then drained the glass before adding, “But our sacrifice was for the greater good, though, so …”
The person looked uncertain, not really knowing how to take that, because it was said neutrally, so Malcom continued doing this with other people, getting little digs in, when he could. It made the afternoon bearable.
When he reached the point where he couldn’t take another condolence from someone Malcom would never (hopefully) see again, he escaped to the library, which was basically a glorified den with a short stack of law books on the desk, making the ‘library’ classification a pretty big stretch.
As he paced around the room, he found himself engaging in a little impromptu verbal journaling, keeping his voice low to prevent anyone who might walk by in the hallway on their way to the bathroom, from hearing him through the door. He had just settled into a pretty good groove, when the door opened, and Jules and Evan stepped into the room.
For a moment, Malcom could only admire Evan in his new suit, and Jules in her black cashmere dress, with her hair pulled back into a low ponytail.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Evan said, closing the door with a click. “This house is stupid big.”
“The pantry is about as big as the one in the Overlook Hotel, fromThe Shining,” Jules noted.
“You looked for me in the pantry?” Malcom asked.
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “We were on a mission.”
Evan walked over and took one of Malcom’s hands. “How are you doing?”
