“I just buy at the deli on the way home if I’m hungry. Hunt was the cook.”
“Well, maybe you should hire one. You’re going to starve otherwise. You never have any food here.” He was used to stocking a fridge for two growing boys. He couldn’t have fed a canary with hers. Their hamster ate more than she did.
“I hate having people around,” she said quietly. “I don’t like all that fuss. Or sitting down to dinner all by myself. I used to cook when Max was home, until Hunt moved in. He was such a good cook, that nobody ever wanted to eat my food again, not even me.” She smiled at Jim. “Do you cook?”
“Self-preservation. I had to feed the boys when Jeannie got sick, and then afterward. I’m better at barbecue, but I manage. I do really good takeout, mostly Chinese and pizza,” he said, and she laughed. “Why don’t I pick up something for you to eat tonight?” She looked blank as he said it. She wasn’t hungry and she hadn’t eaten all day.
“I don’t think I can eat,” she said honestly. “And I have to write that obit before tomorrow.” She needed to go to her father’s house to get the photograph of him for the program, but she didn’t have the heart to go tonight after what had happened there only that morning.
“You have to eat something,” Jim insisted.
“I’ll grab something later,” she said vaguely, and Jim laughed out loud.
“Yeah, like a lime. I’ve seen your fridge.” She laughed too.
He left a little while later, and she went to work on her father’s obituary. She was trying to remember all the important details of his life, and she kept thinking of Jim. He had been so kind to her all day, and she didn’t even know what to say to thank him. And at eight o’clock as she was writing furiously on her computer and moving things around, the doorbell rang, and he had sent her a whole Chinese dinner. There was enough for several people and leftovers the next day. She called to thank him, and he told her to be sure to eat it, and she promised she would. It was midnight when she finished her father’s obituary and was satisfied with it, and she ate the Chinese food then. She texted Jim her thanks again, and he didn’t respond so she assumed he was asleep.
She lay awake for a long time that night, thinking of her father and everything that had happened. And she still had to tell Max when she got back from her camping trip. Tallie was dreading that and knew what a loss it would be to her too. She adored him.
Jim called her the next day and asked how she was feeling. She thanked him for dinner again, and he asked if there was anything he could do to help her.
“I don’t think so. But thank you, Jim. You’ve been amazing.”
“Just call if you need me. And don’t forget to eat!”
She nibbled at the Chinese food that afternoon, and then went to her father’s to find the photograph, get him a suit to wear in his casket, with a tie, shirt, and shoes. The photograph she was using was of him in his fifties, when she was still very young. It was how she always remembered him, and she realized that she looked a lot the way he did when he was younger. She found a box of photographs of her mother too and decided to take them with her. She dropped off the suit at the funeral home, gave them the obit, and went home. And Max called her the moment she walked in the door.
“Hi, Mom. How was your weekend?” She sounded excited and happy and said she’d had fun with her friends. They’d gone rafting in New Hampshire.
“Mine wasn’t so great,” Tallie said with a sigh as she sat down, dreading what she had to say. “Max… it’s bad news.” She started to cry as she said it. “Grampa died yesterday. In his sleep. He didn’t suffer. He just drifted away.” Max burst into tears the minute she heard her mother’s words.
“Were you with him?” she asked through sobs.
“I was holding his hand,” her mother cried. “He told me he loved me, and then he fell asleep. We were in the garden, but he’d been very tired for the past few days.”
“Oh Mom… I’m so sorry… I’ll come home tomorrow.” It was already too late for her to catch a plane then, it was almost nine o’clock at night in New York. “I’ll catch the first plane tomorrow morning.” Tallie had already booked her a seat on it and told her what time it was.
“The funeral is on Tuesday.”
“Oh God… poor Grampa… and poor you…” Max was sorry she wasn’t there to put her arms around her. Her mother had been through so much. “Can I do anything to help with the funeral?”
“No, I took care of everything yesterday. It’s pretty much organized.” And the obituary going into the paper on Monday morning would tell everyone about the funeral on Tuesday, and there was visitation at the funeral home on Monday night. Interment would be private, like Hunt’s. Tallie didn’t want anyone at the graveside with them at the end, just she and Max. And she had realized that afternoon that people would want to come to her house after the funeral and burial. She could tell people about it at the church. She had to call a caterer in the morning, but she didn’t think she’d forgotten anything so far. She’d been very efficient.
She and Max talked for a while, and Max was arriving in L.A. at eleven o’clock. The time difference was in their favor coming west, and Tallie was relieved that they’d be together. It was too agonizing to face alone. It made her even more grateful that she’d had Jim with her the day before. It would have been infinitely harder without him. She didn’t mention it to Max, it didn’t seem important. But he called her that night to check on her.
“Did you tell your daughter?” He had been thinking of her all afternoon.
“I did,” Tallie said sadly.
“How is she?”
“Okay. Sad. Thank you for everything you’ve done, Jim.”
“Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can do. I’m just a phone call away.” She didn’t have the feeling that he was trying to take advantage of her, or the situation. He was just a kind man, who was trying to be a friend, and she was grateful.
Max was home the next day at noon, and she and her mother put their arms around each other and cried. Neither of them could imagine a life without Sam in it now. Tallie felt as though she and Max had been shipwrecked together, and were clinging to the wreckage and each other for dear life. All Tallie could hope was that they would reach safe harbor soon. She felt as though she had been out in the storms for too long. It had been months, but at least the grief she felt was pure, clean, and uncomplicated. No one had betrayed her, they hadn’t lied to her or cheated her, or stolen from her. She had just lost someone that she loved with her entire being. It was like having her heart sliced in two with a surgical knife. It was brutal.
Chapter 17
THE FUNERAL OF Samuel Lewis Jones was elegant and solemn. Tallie thought he would have liked it. The flowers were white and looked lovely in the church, the casket was a dark mahogany, the church was full, and she had given the minister enough information about her father’s life that the eulogy was meaningful and moving.
And Tallie spoke briefly about the extraordinary man he was. All of his peers and close friends had died before him, so there was no one to speak of his distinguished career, his accomplishments, his victories, the kind of friend he was, and the kind of father, except her. But she did a good job. Most of the people who came were old clients of his, who had been much younger than he was, and were now older people, since he had retired ten years before. Some of the people Tallie did business with were there as well. She saw Victor Carson in a back pew, alone; her father’s beloved housekeeper Amelia was there; and so were a few of Tallie’s acquaintances and friends. It was a respectable showing for a remarkable man who had been much loved and greatly respected. And as she and Max walked out of the church holding hands with tears running down their cheeks, she looked up and saw Jim there, in a dark suit, and he nodded solemnly at her, and she nodded back.
They stood outside the church for a few minutes, and she invited people to come to the house later that afternoon. She invited Jim too, who said he didn’t want to intrude at such a delicate time.
“You won’t be. And at least you’ll get some decent food at my place for once,” she said in an undervoice, and he laughed and said he would come. He said a few words to Max too. And then she and Tallie left for the cemetery to say their last goodbyes to Sam. It was agonizing leaving him there, for both of them, and Tallie looked wrenched by it when they got back to the house. Several people were already there, and Max and Tallie moved among them, thanking people for coming. There were many Tallie didn’t know well, who had only known her father, but she’d
