Same Old Truths (4 page)

Kay walked over to the file cabinet, searched the B’s and pulled out the one labeled “Burleigh.” The folder had been handled so many times, the edges had become frayed and it was beginning to come apart at the crease.

“Here’s your file,” Kay said, handing it over to Evelyn who was finally sitting. “Look it over and when I come back you can let me know if there are any changes you’d like to make.”

Kay made her exit, but before she was able to completely close her office door, she heard Tony complain in a menacing voice that took her by surprise. “Look, Old Woman. You promised if I came with you, you’d take me to Clucky’s Chicken Hut. I wanna get outta here and go eat. NOW!”

Behind the closed door Kay could hear the muffled sounds of a bullied mother trying to pacify an over-grown brat. Kay’s heart broke for the woman who had to live with this nasty Baby Huey.

Kay took a quick detour through the small hallway separating the display room from the auxiliary chapel. At the end of the hall was a drinking fountain and Kay badly needed the refreshment the cool water had to offer. She had just leaned over to catch the arc of liquid in her slightly parted lips when her boss, Ed Salinger, appeared behind her, causing her to choke on a tiny trickle of water going down the wrong way. He waited patiently for her coughing fit to subside before he spoke. “Sorry about that. Listen. Is there any way you’d be able to work the Campbell viewing this evening? I have to pick up a body at the airport. I can’t get a hold of Uncle O, so I have to go myself.”

Owen Salinger was Ed’s uncle. He’d been helping out at the mortuary since his retirement from the Post Office five years earlier. Whenever there was a death call, Uncle O was usually dispatched to the hospital, nursing home or private residence to pick up the deceased and transport it back to the mortuary. He wasn’t officially on the payroll, so he didn’t feel obligated to always be available.

“Hmmm,” Kay said. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I just have to let the girls know.”

“Thanks. You know I wouldn’t ask unless it was absolutely necessary.” Ed, perpetually in a hurry, spoke over his shoulder as he made his exit through the display room.

Ed Salinger was not only one of the best-looking men Kay knew, but also the busiest. In addition to successfully operating a prosperous business, Ed was an active member of the community, sitting on boards and chairing committees in a host of civic organizations. In his spare time he played tennis, coached pee wee baseball, and was a starting forward on an inter-city basketball team. Kay thought it was a good thing Ed was single, because she couldn’t imagine any woman who’d be willing to be shoehorned into his long to-do list. Though, from time to time, she’d certainly entertained the idea herself.

Kay thought about Ed’s request. This was Monday, which meant Cory had a 7:00 p.m. appointment with her therapist. Here was an occasion when she was going to need Dave’s help. She felt her breath coming a little faster. Unlike the stupid excuses she’d contrived in the past to call him when she missed him, now she had a valid reason to make contact. She was curious to see if he was going to make good on their agreement.

Mr. McNab apologized profusely for following Kay back to the mortuary, but he had come at Emily’s insistence. Seems she didn’t want the slightest detail overlooked.

It didn’t take long to get Mr. McNab squared away and Kay headed back to her office determined to speed the bizarre Burleigh duo on their way. Fortunately, they had already emerged from her office and were headed toward the rear exit when Kay met up with them.

“I hate to rush off like this, Dahling, but my poor Tony missed his breakfast and I’m afraid he’s feeling a little peckish,” Evelyn said in a thin, stressed voice.

Whadda ya know…she got one righ
t.

Kay was tempted to say, “Don’t you mean prickish?” but instead said, “I’m worried about you, Evelyn. Are you going to be ok?” Kay was sincerely concerned - not about Evelyn’s impending murder, but about the emotional abuse she was suffering at the hands of her browbeating baked-potato of a son.

Ever the big brassy dame, Evelyn jutted out her chin and defiantly said, “Que sera, sera, Dahling. I have peace of mind knowing Tony won’t have to worry about my final wishes. I’ve taken care of everything.”

“So there won’t be any changes?” Kay asked, knowing in a year of monthly reviews, Evelyn had yet to alter a single detail of her final disposition.

Much to Kay’s surprise Evelyn responded, albeit sheepishly. “Well, actually, I do have one. When I opened the folder it tore in half. Would you mind giving me a new one?”

“I’d be happy to,” Kay replied.

She walked them to the door and said her goodbyes. As she made her way back to her office, she passed the hallway window just in time to see something strange streak past. When she stopped to get a better look, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Tony, running in a full sprint toward Evelyn’s car, apparently answering the call of extra-crispy thighs and drumsticks.

Kay chuckled, trying to imagine what Evelyn might say about Tony’s uncharacteristic burst of energy: “Dahling, he had to run. The chicken had come home to roast.”

4

The Stage is Set

After her whirlwind of a morning, Kay looked forward to settling into her desk chair and catching up on some paperwork. Filling out death certificate forms was just the type of mindless busy work she needed to pass the time before she had to call Dave.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the distraction Kay had hoped for. She began to obsess over her tendency to become flustered and breathless whenever she spoke to Dave on the phone. She couldn’t understand why it never happened when they were together, face-to-face. The annoyance always present in his voice made her speed up and talk like Alvin the chipmunk, so as to get out whatever she had to say. He had a way of making her feel she was always taking up his valuable time.

No wonder he acts like he runs the show. I’ve made him the director.

Kay decided that shit was going to stop today.

If he wants me to cooperate with this crazy child support-slashing scheme, he’s going to have to meet me on an equal footing.

Kay pulled Emily McNab’s death certificate form from the file folder. Except for the official “Cause of Death” and the doctor’s signature, the form was complete. This left two other certificates to fill out and get signed. Normally, she would have asked Leo, their errand-and-whatever-else-needs-doing guy, to deliver the forms to the doctors’ offices; she wanted to take care of the task herself so she’d have a break before the long evening ahead.

The Department of Vital Records’ new computer program for processing death certificates was still several months away from being user ready, so she had to rely on an old IBM Selectric. But she didn’t mind because the machine had a correcting function that erased mistakes with a quick stroke of a key. And it never crashed the way her computer so often did.

She had just inserted a blank certificate into the typewriter when the telephone rang, followed by the buzz of the intercom. “Kay, Line 1 for you,” Ruth said.

Kay got up from the small, portable table where the twenty year old machine was stationed, walked over to her desk and jerked up the receiver of the phone. “Is it anything you can take care of? I hate to ask, but I’m running against the clock to get a couple of death certificates out,” Kay said. She immediately felt guilty for snapping at the busy receptionist.

“It sounds like a personal call, Kay. I believe the caller said his name is Dave.”

At the sound of his name, her insides began to vibrate. Her breath came faster and that familiar fluster swooshed up and around her just like the dust devil swirling past her window at that very moment. Under different circumstances she might have smiled at the coincidence, but instead, she swallowed hard and tried to respond. Nothing came out.

“Kay? Are you there?” Ruth asked.

Kay cleared her throat. “Would you please take his number, Ruth, and tell him I’ll call him back?” She knew she was in no condition to have the “equal footing” conversation she had promised herself just a few moments earlier.

“Sure,” Ruth answered, a little confused about what was going on at the other end of the intercom.

Even though she was mad at herself for almost falling apart at the sound of his name, Kay had to pat herself on the back for having the presence of mind to delay talking to him until she could get a hold of herself. That old, familiar apprehension was creeping in. Why in the heck he was calling her?

Uh oh.
A
re those the bomb bay doors I hear opening again?

Her composure began to return when she remembered his promise to call with child support details.

Just then Ruth walked into her office holding the little pink phone message form on which she had written Dave’s telephone number. Hand-delivering messages was something Ruth didn’t make a practice of doing, but Kay’s strange behavior begged a little investigation.

“Are you ok?” Ruth asked, handing Kay the pink piece of paper.

Kay looked up with a fake expression of puzzlement and responded, “Who? Me? I’m fine. Just fine,” Kay said, as her eyes hungrily devoured the writing on the paper just handed to her. No message. Just a check-mark next to the “Please Call” box and a return phone number.

Ruth wasn’t convinced, but decided not to pry. “Ok. You sounded a little strange on the intercom and I just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Kay couldn’t be sure if Ruth was truly concerned or just nosy. After all, they weren’t exactly friends. Ruth was a warm person but didn’t go out of her way to encourage personal relationships with the other employees at Salinger’s. Kay had always chalked up Ruth’s arm’s-length distance to an over-developed sense of professionalism. Apart from that, Ruth was kind of a mystery. Nevertheless, Ruth’s uncharacteristic show of concern had opened a door and Kay saw a chance to get a new perspective from someone, besides her sister, whom she assumed was wiser and more experienced.

Ruth turned to leave but Kay stopped her. “Uh…Ruth, do you have minute?”

Not totally surprised, the woman turned back to Kay. “Sure, Dear. What can I do for you?”

“Well, would you have a couple of minutes to talk…about something personal, I mean. I’d like your opinion.”

The woman’s expression softened and she gave Kay a shy, but grateful smile.

“My goodness. It’s been a long time since anyone has wanted my opinion. I’d be honored.” Her response was quick and sincere, making Kay glad she had asked. “But do you mind coming up front? I’m expecting a couple of deliveries from the florist and I don’t want to leave the office unattended.” The dutiful receptionist resumed her walk back to her desk.

“Not a problem,” Kay gratefully called after her. “Just let me turn off the typewriter and I’ll be right there.” The death certificates were going to have to wait.

Accompanied by four generations of the Salinger family, Kay walked up the long, narrow hall that led to the front office. As usual, they were silent as she passed their elegantly-framed photographic portraits.

Kay had always thought the Salingers were a proud, good-looking lot, but none as striking as Lorraine Salinger. The oldest child of Edward Salinger, Sr. the founder of the mortuary, “Lorri” was not only beautiful, she had the distinction of being the first licensed female funeral director in the state. This impressive, but little-known achievement had captured Kay’s imagination. Even though this was the twenty-first century, Kay knew, first hand, the challenges of being a female in a male-dominated profession. She couldn’t imagine the hurdles the late Lorri Salinger must have had to overcome launching her career in the 1940’s. Ruth had been fortunate enough to work with Lorri back in the day and Kay had always wanted to ask her about their association. But until today, Ruth had never encouraged personal conversations.

Kay was about to take a seat in an extra office chair located behind Ruth’s desk, when the receptionist stopped her. ”On second thought, why don’t we sit on the sofa.” Ruth nodded toward the family room just beyond her formal office setting. “We’ll be more comfortable and I can still keep an eye on things.”

Common to most mortuaries, the family room contained a tasteful but comfortable arrangement of living room furniture. This setting was a holdover from the old days of the funeral “parlor.” Long ago, the custom was to have the casketed deceased in the family home where loved ones and friends could come to pay their respects. Over the years, things had moved to the mortuary, but achieving a feeling of “home” was still a mainstay of the services provided.

“So what’s going on?” Ruth asked as she settled herself on one of the sumptuous cushions of the sofa. She pulled the hem of her dress down to cover her exposed knees. “Does it have anything to do with that man who called?”

Everyone at Salinger’s knew Kay was divorced, but she had never felt the need to fill them in on any of the gory details.

Kay exhaled deeply and laid out her story, clearly and succinctly. She told Ruth about Dave’s recent return after a seven year absence and the questionable agreement she had made with him. She explained her difficulties with talking to him on the phone and how she wanted to be calm and composed when she put his part of the agreement to its first test. It wasn’t any more complicated than that. In fact, when Kay heard herself speaking the words, she felt a little silly for making such a big deal about it.