Read Online Killing Me Softly by Kathryn R. Biel - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathryn R. Biel
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me know. Are you going to leave now or do you want to go in?"
"I want to leave, but I guess I need to go in."
"Then let me escort you, if you don't mind."
We stand up and start to head into the other room. Right before we get to the entrance I say, "Thanks, John. I appreciate it."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I wish I could say that the most remarkable thing that happened at Rob's wake was me passing out. Well, I could say that, but it would be lying. I wish I could say that the other excitement didn't involve me. Again, I'd be lying.
John walks me back into the room and right over to Mr. and Mrs. Henderson and Rob's brothers Barry and Maurice. I don't know why it never occurred to me before, but in that moment it hits me. I know why Rob's name was Robin. Mrs. Henderson named her children after the BeeGee's. A bit of laughter threatens to bubble out of my mouth. I choke it back and make a strange gargling sound. It sort of doesn't matter. Everyone is staring at me anyway. There are hushed whispers going around the room.
Mrs. Henderson can't even look me in the eye as I stand before her. I don't blame her. Maybe I should, but I don't subscribe to the philosophy that one's actions are always a direct result of his or her mother's child-rearing abilities. "Mrs. Henderson, I'm very sorry for your loss." And sorry that I brought about your son's death. Obviously I leave that part out.
Now understand, these are people I've had Sunday dinner with. I've spent holidays eating her crappy ambrosia and deviled eggs. Other than accidentally killing Rob, I am not the person at fault here. I am the wronged party. She doesn't say anything, and so I move onto Mr. Henderson. Just as I'm about to give him a hug, I hear it. That shrill voice that has made me blow my stack countless times over the years.
Jenna.
She's in a wheelchair, my mother pushing her. "Bernice! George! I'm so sorry I'm late. I had to leave the hospital against medical advice to be here, but I just couldn't miss this. I am devastated. Absolutely torn up. I feel so guilty! I wish there was something I could do to bring our Robin back."
Jenna is like a bad soap opera actress, complete with the back of the hand to the forehead and everything. For being in the hospital and not being allowed to leave, she looks pretty made up. Her hair, which is unnaturally red, hangs in ringlets down past her shoulders. She's wearing a black dress that I'm guessing is brand spanking new and most likely carries a brand-name label. Her makeup is caked on, making her look older than thirty-three, and is topped off by fire-engine-red lips. On her left hand is a marquise-cut solitaire set in yellow gold. It takes every ounce of self-restraint I have not to punch her as my mother wheels her over to me.
I hear Barry mutter under his breath, "Well, if she hadn't been jerking him off while he was driving, he'd probably still be here."
I turn and look at him. I never really cared for Barry. Three years older than Robin, Barry made Rob seem laid back and spontaneous. "What did you say?"
"If you're asking me, then you heard correctly."
"How ..."
"Because the first responders all had a great laugh at my brother's expense. His fly was down, his junk was out, and there was obvious ... stuff all over her. One of the new guys took the call. He came back to the station and was telling everyone about it before he realized it was my brother. I was on duty that night. I could have been on that call."
At that point, I throw up. Right in front of Rob's casket. From some things, there is no rebounding. This is one of those things.
Rob's mother has to be escorted from the room. His brothers give me death looks. My sister starts wailing about how I ruin everything for her. My mother starts yelling at me for getting my sister all agitated in her precarious condition. My colleagues just stare at the freak show.
Sitting in my car, trying to muster up the strength to drive home, I don't know if I can move. If I can
"I want to leave, but I guess I need to go in."
"Then let me escort you, if you don't mind."
We stand up and start to head into the other room. Right before we get to the entrance I say, "Thanks, John. I appreciate it."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I wish I could say that the most remarkable thing that happened at Rob's wake was me passing out. Well, I could say that, but it would be lying. I wish I could say that the other excitement didn't involve me. Again, I'd be lying.
John walks me back into the room and right over to Mr. and Mrs. Henderson and Rob's brothers Barry and Maurice. I don't know why it never occurred to me before, but in that moment it hits me. I know why Rob's name was Robin. Mrs. Henderson named her children after the BeeGee's. A bit of laughter threatens to bubble out of my mouth. I choke it back and make a strange gargling sound. It sort of doesn't matter. Everyone is staring at me anyway. There are hushed whispers going around the room.
Mrs. Henderson can't even look me in the eye as I stand before her. I don't blame her. Maybe I should, but I don't subscribe to the philosophy that one's actions are always a direct result of his or her mother's child-rearing abilities. "Mrs. Henderson, I'm very sorry for your loss." And sorry that I brought about your son's death. Obviously I leave that part out.
Now understand, these are people I've had Sunday dinner with. I've spent holidays eating her crappy ambrosia and deviled eggs. Other than accidentally killing Rob, I am not the person at fault here. I am the wronged party. She doesn't say anything, and so I move onto Mr. Henderson. Just as I'm about to give him a hug, I hear it. That shrill voice that has made me blow my stack countless times over the years.
Jenna.
She's in a wheelchair, my mother pushing her. "Bernice! George! I'm so sorry I'm late. I had to leave the hospital against medical advice to be here, but I just couldn't miss this. I am devastated. Absolutely torn up. I feel so guilty! I wish there was something I could do to bring our Robin back."
Jenna is like a bad soap opera actress, complete with the back of the hand to the forehead and everything. For being in the hospital and not being allowed to leave, she looks pretty made up. Her hair, which is unnaturally red, hangs in ringlets down past her shoulders. She's wearing a black dress that I'm guessing is brand spanking new and most likely carries a brand-name label. Her makeup is caked on, making her look older than thirty-three, and is topped off by fire-engine-red lips. On her left hand is a marquise-cut solitaire set in yellow gold. It takes every ounce of self-restraint I have not to punch her as my mother wheels her over to me.
I hear Barry mutter under his breath, "Well, if she hadn't been jerking him off while he was driving, he'd probably still be here."
I turn and look at him. I never really cared for Barry. Three years older than Robin, Barry made Rob seem laid back and spontaneous. "What did you say?"
"If you're asking me, then you heard correctly."
"How ..."
"Because the first responders all had a great laugh at my brother's expense. His fly was down, his junk was out, and there was obvious ... stuff all over her. One of the new guys took the call. He came back to the station and was telling everyone about it before he realized it was my brother. I was on duty that night. I could have been on that call."
At that point, I throw up. Right in front of Rob's casket. From some things, there is no rebounding. This is one of those things.
Rob's mother has to be escorted from the room. His brothers give me death looks. My sister starts wailing about how I ruin everything for her. My mother starts yelling at me for getting my sister all agitated in her precarious condition. My colleagues just stare at the freak show.
Sitting in my car, trying to muster up the strength to drive home, I don't know if I can move. If I can
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