Strohs, Darts and Engagements

Taking another swig from her bottle of Stroh's, she sighed. She was exhausted. Leaning back in her bar stool, she glanced over at the couple who were shooting pool a few feet away, and allowed her mind to drift back to that afternoon where she had won two rounds of pool against one of the guys from the funeral home.

"Did I just hear him right?" The man sitting across from her asked, breaking her train of thought. "Did he just say they were playing for her phone number?"

"Yup. Dating isn't what it was when you were dating sir. Wish it still was." She sighed, taking another swig. "Unless its me, then dating doesn't exist."

"Oh? What makes you say that?" he questioned, as he stabbed a meatball and popped it in his mouth. "You're a very attractive young lady, with a great head. You'd be a wonderful catch for any man." He stated, as she took another drink.

"Not working in a funeral home I'm not. Guys get freaked out when I tell them I work with the dead. It's like I have a disease or something." She replied, as she took a bite from her sandwich. "And if they aren't freaked out, its because they're already in the business and already understand working with the dead." She added, as she looked back over that the couple.

"That can't be true." He answered, as she turned back around to look at him.

"Oh, why wouldn't it be?" she asked amused now. "If you look at my track record, it isn't wonderful I'm afraid. The guy I was dating in high school couldn't remember who his girlfriend was. After that, there was Zach who wanted to move super quick..." She said as she sighed. "But regardless..." She started before trailing off and having another swig of beer.

"Regardless?" he questioned her, prompting her to continue, but no luck. She just shook her head and went back to watching the couple shooting pool.

~

"How did you meet your wife?" she questioned about an hour later, as they finished their dinners and were now throwing darts. 

"You know how." He answered, before he turned and smiled at her. "But okay. If you insist. You know that she's his cousin and I met her at his wedding. We started dating a few weeks after the wedding." He added, as she nodded her head and threw a dart at the board. 

"So how did you know she was "the one"?" she questioned, as she handed him the darts and marked down her score. 

"Just did." He replied. "So I asked her to marry me." 

"Did you do the whole down on one knee thing?" she asked, now intently listening. He normally never went into detail like it sounded like he was about to do right now.

"No. I kept it simple. I just told her I loved her and asked her to marry me." He answered, as he threw his last dart and they walked over to the board to see how he had done. 

"Did you ask her dad for her hand first?" she questioned. "Because after my failed engagement, I highly recommend that to anyone." She added, as he smiled.

"No I didn't actually. We told our parents the following weekend actually. We took them out to dinner, I think it was the same place actually that we held our wedding reception, and we told them that we were engaged." He said, and she could see the hints of him actually remembering the moment. 

"That sounds nice. How did they take it?" she asked, as she took a drink from her bottle.

"They asked if we were in trouble actually, as we hadn't been dating very long before I asked her." He said nonchalantly, as she choked on her beer. Turning to look at her, he had a faint smile on his lips.

"They actually thought you might have gotten her pregnant?" she asked, surprised. "You hadn't, had you? Wait, never mind. I shouldn't have asked that." She quickly added, but he continued to smile.

"They did, and no I didn't. But back then, the only reason one got married quickly after dating for such a short amount of time was if the girl was pregnant. It wasn't so in our case, but looking back now, it was funny that they would think that." He told her, as she laughed as her phone rang. Looking down at the caller id, she sighed. It was her brother with the body they had sent him to get. "Time to get back?" he asked, as she nodded her head sadly. She was enjoying herself. 

"Yeah. They're at 117th street." She said sadly as he smiled, finished his drink and handed her the darts. 

"Then we should take off. We told them we'd meet them there." He said, as they headed for the bar to close out the tab and then headed out the door back to work once more.  

Plight of Preteritus

Friday, 11 October 2013
2200 hours

As she walked into the living room of her grandmother's house, a towel wrapped loosely around her hair from her shower, she smiled. "Have I missed the news yet?" she asked causally as she sat down in the first open chair and relaxed.

"It's just coming on now." Her grandma replied, as she shook her head. "Did you want to watch it?"

"Unless there's something you wanted to watch." She replied, as the news started and her grandmother shook her head no. "Then the news it is." She said, as the words BREAKING NEWS flashed across the screen. "Ah yes, what a way to start the evening..."she said as she picked up the remote to turn the volume up.

"This just in...a local Catholic Priest is in jail this evening..." The local news anchor said, as she sighed. "Hmm. Wonder if its anybody I know..." she said as they continued with the story. As a photo splashed up on the screen, she gasped. "OH MY GOD!" Jumping out of her chair, she picked up the phone and dialed the funeral home as fast as her fingers would allow her. As it was answered, she began talking, not even waiting for her boss's brother to finish he greeting. "Where is he?" she demanded.

"He ran out."

"Does he know about father?" she questioned, as she heard the man on the other line sigh.

"Yeah. The girls already called him earlier when they saw it on the news." He replied, as she sank into the couch. "How did you hear about it?"

"It was breaking news on 8." She replied. "Have him call me later." she added seconds later, before hanging up the phone, her body surely going into shock. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be.

~

Saturday, 12 October 2013

0900 hours

Coming into work, her hair down covering her face from the exhaustion and the fact that she had spent a good part of the night before crying, she stepped into the office and saw him already pounding away on the keyboard in front of him. Punching in, she sighed. 

"Morning." 

But it was greeted with a nod of his head. 

"Did you happen to hear about father?" She questioned, already knowing the answer, but again, he merely nodded his head at her, as she sat down at her desk. "It isn't true is it?" she asked, her voice now just above a whisper. Trying hard not to look at her, afraid perhaps to see the hurt, surprised and confusion in her eyes, he looked over at her, his eyes never meeting hers. She deserved an answer.

"I'm afraid it is." He said gently as she shook her head, the tears pooling in them.

"It can't be. It just can't be. He would never...it's a mistake..." She started, but he shook his head, her questions echoing his own. "Why?"

"That's the question we all want to know." He said, as he sighed. "But regardless of that, we have a lot going on today, so as hard as it is for you, I need you to focus the best you can on the here and now." He added softly, as he looked up at her, her face covered in hundreds of expressions at once. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes." She answered, as she took the pad he had picked up, a list of stuff he needed done, wrote on it. Looking down at the list, she sighed. How could he, of all people, be so calm about what had just happened to someone that he loved and cared about, almost as much as she did?

~

Saturday, 12 October 2013

1100 hours

"I have a parishioner on the phone. She heard about father and wants to know what we know about masses this weekend. What should I tell her?" she asked him about two hours later, as she pulled him off to the side and away from the visitation going on.

"Call sister and find out. Use her cell phone. I'm sure she won't be answering the church phone." He answered softly as she nodded her head.

"Why are they calling here? Why would we know what's going on?" she asked quickly.

"Because they figure if I don't know what's going on, nobody else will either." He replied as he headed back to the visitation as she headed for the office. In a strange way, she supposed that his reply made sense.

~

Sunday, 13 October 2013

2100 hours

Sitting at her desk the next night, working late and tears dried up for the moment, she found herself worrying about him. He hadn't said much in the past forty-eight hours about what was happening since Saturday morning, and she worried that perhaps he simply was going to ignore the entire thing. She was confused, and felt worse then she had ever remembered in her life, but still, other than the man she called her pastor, her concerns were only for her boss. How was he handling this? What was he thinking? Was he going to pull through all this, especially since he was so close to father? She knew that only time would tell. 

Coming into the office, he sighed. It had been a horrible and long weekend, and as he sat down at his desk, he knew there was only one thing he could do. Flipping open the Rolodex, he found the card for the church and silently picked up the phone and dialed the number he wanted. After a moment, he sighed, as he began to leave his message of support for the man he called his pastor. Spinning around in her chair, she felt a small smile crawl onto her face as her concerns were laid to rest. She now had a good idea of how he was going to handle the plight of preteritus. 

Wine and Tears Don't Mix

As quietness began to once again settle into the funeral home, he sighed as he moved about quickly in the morgue, dressing yet another decedent so he could be casketed in the morning for visitation. With his back turned towards the doors leading into the funeral home, he didn't see her slip in silently. Coming up behind him, he startled when she reached around him to hold something down for him.

"I thought you left with the others." he said gently, as he looked up and saw her eyes were red from crying.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, I did. But then I realized that I wanted a drink, and the guys all wanted to go home. My cousin is in PA. Anna can't drink because of the baby and my best friend is out at BW and I don't feel much like driving out there to drink. So I have the bottle," she said, as she held up a large bottle of Blackberry Arbor Mist. "But I don't want to drink alone, because apparently drinking alone makes you a drunk, to which I am not yet." she added, as she looked at him. "So I came back to see if you wanted to join me in having a drink to two."  Tying a knot into the string he was tying, he looked back at her.

"Depends. What are we drinking to?" he asked cautiously, as she began to tear up again. Moving out of his way, as he began to prepare another body to be casketed, she sighed loudly and the father in him determined that it was something serious.

"To the fact that I can't have kids. I want them, but I was told that that probably isn't going to happen." she said weepy, as she pulled a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed her eyes before grabbing the casket and holding it as he swung the body lift over it and lowered the decedent into it, using that few silent moments to figure how he was going to address this.

"Are you sure?" he questioned, as she shook her head. He knew she had been having some medical problems, but he didn't think they were that serious. "What did the doctor say."

"That my symptoms sound like endometriosis and that if it is, I may never be able to have kids." she replied, as he looked at her, the desire to be a father for that split second and hold her creeping into his thoughts. "Even before I wanted to be a funeral director, I've wanted to be a mother. I don't think I've ever wanted anything else so bad before in my life. And now, that may all be taken away." she said, her voice just audible against the noise of the embalming fan.

Realizing that what he was doing, though important, was not as important as her at that moment in time, he nodded his head, picking just the right words so not to make her pain double or even triple. "Come on, let's head upstairs. I can finish this later. He's not being laid out until later tomorrow anyways." he said, as he ushered her in front of him out of the room, closing the door behind them as they went up to the residence. Pulling out two wine glasses, he sighed as they went into the living room and  sat down on the couch. "Just because you may never be able to actually have kids, doesn't mean you still couldn't be a mother. There are tons of options out there for woman in your situation." he said gently as he passed her a glass of wine.

"But it wouldn't be the same," she said sadly, knowing that he was referring to adoption. "I just...I watch my girlfriend all excited about having a baby. How excited she is when he kicks and everything and I'm jealous because she's pregnant and I'm not. She didn't even try. She wasn't the one day and then the next she was. I tell the doctor that the only two things I ever fear is dying of cancer and not being able to have kids, and he tells me that the chances are good that I have some disease that nobody has a cure for. I mean, what the hell is that crap!" she cried, as he shakes his head. He's heard some of that rant before from his own beloved after their first miscarriage. Taking a sip of his wine, he sighs.

"It would be the same except the fact that you didn't wouldn't be giving that baby actual life. But you'd still love that child as if it was your own." he answered, as she looked up at him, her hand holding tightly to her glass. Tears were hanging off her lashes, and her eyes that were already red, were only getting redder as she continued to fight off her tears and failing.

"How would you know? You were able to have kids. You got to feel them when they kicked her. You were there when they were born. How do you know I'd make a good mother to a child that wasn't mine?" she asked, the wine starting to hit her as she began to cry. "What makes you think I could love something that isn't a hundred percent mine?" she whispered.

"Because I know. Because you care. Because you wouldn't give up just because you're told that you won't be able to have a child. Because it's you, and even though it would hurt at first, you'd fall in love with that child and love it and being a mom." he answered calmly as she released the stem of the glass and he took it away. "Besides, with modern medicine, who knows. You may find that he was wrong and you're able to have a baby without any trouble at all. You don't know." he added gently as she looked over at him. "You're young. You're going to worry about that, and you should. It's normal. But getting drunk and crying won't back much of a difference medically." he said, as she laughed slightly, and the hint of a small smile came across her face.

"I can see why you became a funeral director." she said, as she wiped her eyes. "You always know what to say to make someone feel better." she said, as she looked at him, a smile still on her face. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. But now, I'd say it's time for you to head home. There's a lot going on in the morning and I'm going to need to know you can be on the top of your game." he said, as she stood up and shook her head.

"Yes sir." she said, as she grabbed the empty wine glasses and carried them into the kitchen. "What time should I get here in the morning?" she questioned, as she headed for the door.

"Eight thirty if you could. Call when you get home please." he answered, as she nodded her head.

"I will. Good night sir." she said, as she pulled open the door and began to walk out, before she stopped and stuck her head around the corner of the door. "Sir?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." and with that, she was gone. Sighing, he leaned back on the couch and flipped on the news, waiting for her phone call to say she was home, safe and sound.

His Beloved

As he walked into the living room, he sighed. It has been a terribly long and exhausting day and the next day would be the same. Sitting down in his old broken in lazy boy, he put his feet up and sighed, leaned back to get comfortable as the clock on the mantel chimed. Ten-fifteen. For a man who worked strange hour, this was early for him, despite the fact that he could feel his entire body relaxing into the softness of his chair. He couldn't help it he supposed. When you go from running a funeral home with anywhere from two to four licensed, full time funeral directors down to one, you were certain to be exhausted. Add to that your own personal issues, and the fact that the funeral he had conducted earlier that day and the one he would be conducting on Monday were merely children, no older than his own cherished group that he and his wife raised, he was finding it amazing that he was still awake enough to even be thinking. A dangerous sign for him that maybe he should turn over the phones to the answering service for the night, something he very rarely did because he simply liked to be in control. Another thing he found was simply part of him. Standing up, he slowly made his way into the outer office and over to the white plastic table that served as a desk for his young assistant. Sitting down in the desk chair, he couldn't help but admire how she managed to personalize the table and make it her own, and still manage to keep it neat enough so she could use it when she had to. Picking up the black receiver, he punched in a few numbers, double checking them against the phone cord on the desk and after the first ring was greeted by a cool, crisp voice on the other end of the phone. "Good evening. Walter Martens & Sons. How many I help you?" Certainly not as personal as the greeting both her and Victoria used, but it got the job done. "Yes this is Walter Martens. I'm not going to be able to answer phones tonight, I'm sorry. If we should get a call, would you ask them to hold it until morning. If they can't, then would you notify me." he explained as the cool voice on the other end responded. "Certainly. Will that be on your cell then Mr. Martens?" "Oh, yeah. Yes...my cell." he quickly answered as he felt his eye lids start to close. "Very well. Walter Jr. on his cell. Good night sir." she answered, still wide awake and probably running on coffee. Setting the phone back in its cradle, he quickly picked it back up and dialed the funeral home's 3rd line before he set the receiver on the desk and stood up as it rang the rest of the phones in the office. Taking a few steps, he stepped over to his son's desk and answered the phone by picking it up and placing it on the desk as well. Then, without even thinking, he headed right back to his lazy boy chair and sat down, kicked his feet up and leaned back. He was too tired to even make it to hi bedroom about a 1,000 feet away. Grabbing the blanket that was behind his head, he threw it around himself and drifted off into an uneasy and restless sleep.

The Ride Home

Standing at the cemetery, he couldn't help but smile as he watched his assistant work with the family as they waited to go back to the committal shelter. "She's a natural" he thought as she walked over to the widow and began to give her some directions. "She's certainly got something I can work with." 

"Sir? Are you feeling alright? Perhaps you should sit in the van. It's rather warm out." she spoke, as he shook his head, his thoughts now broken.

"What did you say?" he questioned, as she looked at him, her eyes full of concern. They were a long way from the funeral home, and it was only the two of them on the funeral.

"I asked if you're feeling alright. You look very flustered all of a sudden." she repeated, as he nodded his head, took out his monogrammed handkerchief and blotted his brow dry. The temperature easily had to be at least ninety degrees. Tucking it back into his pocket, he smiled.

"Just fine. Why don't you go move the van. I'll get everybody into their cars." he suggested, as she silently nodded her head and climbed into the silver funeral home van, slowly pulling it forward, as he informed the family that it was time to leave and head back to the committal shelter for the services.

~~~

"You can drive home if you want." he said to her about an hour later, as they watched the last of the family car's pull away from the curb to leave the cemetery. She had done well with this family, and he was very proud of her, but then again, she always worked her hardest with the families whenever she had gotten the chance, and for that, he was very glad that he had hired her. 

"Yeah okay." she replied, as she peeled her gray striped jacket off and tossed it lazily on her arm, as he followed, removing his best navy blue jacket and sighing. "Urgh, this heat is unbearable." she moaned.

"Well, I'll think about that while I'm sitting in the back seat praying." he teased her, as she stamped her foot in protest. She was easily aggravated about jokes on her driving. 

"That's not fair. I'm a good drive when I have the company car." she protested as they climbed in and sighed a sigh of relief at the temperature difference. The van must have been at least ten degree's cooler. 

~~~

As she hit the highway and set the cruise for a comfortable 70 miles per hour, she settled back into the drivers seat for the twenty mile drive back to town. With the air vents opened, the car had cooled to at least a twenty degree temperature difference, and he easily found himself fighting to stay awake on the ride home. As conversation started to dwindle between the two of them, (sometimes there was simply nothing to talk about) she looked over to find him asleep in the passenger seat and she breathed a sigh of relief. This week had turned into a crazy one. Not as bad as it could have been, but bad enough to prevent him from getting the proper sleep she knew he should have every night. The nap on the trip home would do him some good. 

He found that sleep, no matter how much he tried to fight it, had come to him, and in a way, he was happy. Sleep had been something that he hadn't gotten much of this week, so every little cat nap made a difference to him. But would she be alright? She was a good driver, and it wasn't her driving that he was worried about. But the heat had been very hard on them all today and she had been rubbing her forehead and the back of her neck like she normally did when she had a headache. He gave her credit, she always tried so hard to hide when she had a headache, but he had learned her signs when she did have one. Opening one of his eyes, he peeked over at her, but she seemed comfortable. Closing his eyes, he sighed as he settled into the passenger seat to sleep. He trusted her to get them home in one piece.   

The Miscarriage

      As a clap thunder roared outside his bedroom window, he lept up from his newest nightmare that was plaguing him. Wiping sweat from his brow, he sighed as he caught a stolen glance at the Big Ben sitting on the bedside table. Two-Ten. "Great," he murmured, as he tossed the sheet off and sat on the side of the bed. "Not even forty-five minutes this time." he sighed again before he felt her gentle hand on his bare shoulder.

     "Come back to bed darling." she whispered quietly as she placed her lips softly on his neck before rubbing his shoulders, feeling the tension he once again was carrying. He was working to hard. Taking her hand, he kissed it lightly before he turned around to face her. She was stunning.

     "I'm sorry I woke you. The baby-" he asked as he placed his hand gently on her womb.

     "The baby's fine love. It's you I'm worried about. Why don't you just tell me what this dream's about. You'll feel better." she stated gently as she placed her hand softly on the five o'clock shadow he bore before she kissed him. Breaking off the kiss, he sighed for the third time as he reached down and pulled on his light blue shorts before turning to face her once more.

     "It's nothing really. Just working too hard. I'm sorry I woke you." he repeated again as he leaned in and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I'm going to go get a sleeping pill." he added, more so to himself than her as he walked out of the bedroom. Shaking her head, it was her turn to sigh as she laid back down in among the soft pillows.

~

     Rolling over, she stirred as she reached for her husband, only to find him gone. Reaching over to his bedside table, she grabbed the Big Ben and sighed, Four-Twenty. Setting it back down, she grabbed the duvet off the bed and wrapped it loosely around her, as she slipped off the bed and silently made her way out of the bedroom in search of her husband.

     "Sweetheart?" she questioned a few moments later as she walked into the dimly lite living room, where he sat on the couch, a bottle of Strohs and paperwork scattered on the marble coffee table in front of him and the radio softly playing Foreigner's "I want to know what love is." on the book shelf. Turning to face her, he smiled weakly. Coming over to him, she sat down in his lap, wrapping an arm around him as she ran her other hand softly down his face, before he kissed her lightly.

     "What are you doing up so early?" he questioned in between kisses, as her brown eyes flashed in the light from the storm's lightening.

     "Looking for you." she replied, as she continued kissing him lovingly, the way only a wife could.

     "You shouldn't be up this early. It isn't good for the baby." he answered as she looked at him, a smile on her soft lips.

     "Neither should you." she whispered, as she felt him shifting beneath her, so his legs were straight on the couch.

     "I woke up and you weren't there." she added, as she followed his lead and stretched out next to him, just fitting into the crook of his arms, as he tucked the duvet tighter around her.

     "I couldn't sleep. Didn't want to keep you up." he said, as he felt her nuzzle into his arms and against his bare chest. "But it's okay now. Just sleep." he spoke softly, like a new father to his scared child. "Get some sleep love." he added as he felt her slip back into sleep before following her.

~

     Kissing his wife lightly on the cheek, he climbed out of the car and smiled at her. "I don't have to go if you don't want me to." he told her for the second or third time since they had gotten in the car to head for his meeting.

     "Nonsense. Go to the meeting. You'll only be an hour or two and then we'll have a romantic dinner and then curl up on the couch and watch a movie." she replied as she leaned over to kiss him goodbye. "Now go. It's not nice to keep the others waiting. Go on." she urged him, as he nodded his head and closed the car door behind him as he headed into the meeting. Smiling, she drove away, as she mentally finished her list for dinner.

     "You've got a phone call. You can take it in the office." he was told about an hour later, as he finished jotting down some figures from the treasure's report he just gave. Standing up, he nodded his head.

     "Who is it?" he questioned as he headed for the office.

     "It's your wife. She sounds tired. Must be great to be newlyweds." was the answer he was given, as he dashed into the office and picked up the phone.

     "Darling?" he questioned, the sound of fear creeping into his voice, despite the fact that he was trying to hide it.

     "I'm sorry to bother your meeting, but I'm not feeling well darling. I was just letting you know that I don't think I'll be able to come get you." she answered in just above a whisper, as he shook his head.

     "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, as he heard her sigh.

     "Yeah. We're just fine. Go back to your meeting." she replied as she hung up. Hanging up, he went back into the meeting and grabbed his hoodie.

     "Hey. Everything okay?" the guys asked, as he nodded his head.

     "Huh? Oh yeah. I'm gonna head home. I'll see you all later." he answered as he pulled hid hoodie and left.

~

     Running up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, he tried to calm himself as he walked in. Setting his keys on the table inside the door, he sighed.

     "Sweetheart?" he called out, as he headed into the dimly lit living room. Walking over to the couch, she smiled weakly up at him.

     "You're home early." she whispered as he sat down next to her and ran his hand down her face, noticing she was cold, clammy, and slightly gray. "I told you I was okay." she added, as he pulled her into his arms, his hand resting lightly on her womb.

     "We're going to the hospital angel." he answered her, as she silently nodded her head.

~

Rolling over, he grabbed the Big Ben. Two thirty seven. Sitting up, he sighed, turned on the night stand lamp and reached for his wife, only to find that she wasn't there. Pulling on his robe, he sighed again as he headed slowly downstairs to the funeral home. Letting himself into the dimly lit morgue, he flipped on the switch and sighed again as he looked at the chaos of the bodies that filled the room. Walking over to one of the metal dressing tables, he let out a deep breath as he looking into the tiny little white casket sitting on top of it. The twins were still there, wrapped just as tightly as they could be in the blankets that his young assistant had wrapped them in earlier that evening before she had gone home. Baby funerals, especially those that were miscarriages always hit him the hardest.