7. EDDIE

Chapter seven

EDDIE

S itting at the kitchen table in the middle of the afternoon, I flipped through the brochure for a funeral firm. The weird, dark absurdity of it hit me: a thirty-two-year-old sitting there looking at funeral arrangements, different options for caskets of various woods and designs, floral arrangements, and designs for memorial service notices for my sister, Megan, who had died at hardly forty years old. A week before, it would have seemed impossible. Now, here we were.

Megan had never been in a position to plan for such things. Even if she had thought about it so young, there was never any money in her accounts to cover the costs. She lived entirely paycheck to paycheck. So it fell to me to foot the bill. I didn't mind, not one bit. It was the least I could do for her. And yet, at the same time, it all felt like one other thing fate had handed me to sort out.

When our mom died, it had been slow – cancer. There had been time to talk about what she wanted, and my mom, though never remotely wealthy, had always been one to pay five dollars a month into some funeral scheme in which she could choose in advance what she wanted. Now, I just felt like I was guessing what Megan might have wanted, what she might have hated.

"What's up, Eddie?"

I looked up to see Jared walking into the kitchen. He was not wearing shoes, only socks, so I had not heard him coming down the stairs. Caught off guard, I quickly tried to conceal the brochures, but Jared's eyes had already twigged.

"What's that you're trying to hide?" he asked mock suspiciously.

"Nothing."

He grinned.

"Nah, come on, what?"

I showed him the funeral brochure.

"It's a brochure for a funeral. We need to make some arrangements for Mom's… service."

Jared's cheery expression vanished.

"Wow," he said. "Intense." Then, after a moment of silence, he sighed and said, "I think something simple would be good. Mom didn't like anything too fancy."

"Okay," I said. "It's good for you to have an input."

He thought a second more.

"And she wasn't into God much."

I had to suppress a smile, more at the matter-of-fact way he said it than what he said.

"Okay, something simple and not too religious. That sounds like a start."

"Some songs. Not hymns. She liked old-time bands. Like Coldplay."

Another smile suppressed – "old-time" bands.

"Do you have any view about flowers or anything?" I asked.

He gave me the weirdest look.

"I couldn't give a damn about flowers," he said as if it was ridiculous he might. "What about you?"

"No, same," I said. "I think we should get something white. That's the traditional color."

He shrugged.

"Hey, Eddie, do you mind if I go see a friend tonight?" he asked, a rather abrupt change of subject.

"Not at all," I replied. "You don't have to ask me. Let me know where you're going and when you'll be back."

He grinned.

"Cool. I'll be back by 10:00."

He told me the details of who and what and then went back upstairs. The conversation had felt like a small step toward normalcy in the midst of everything that was going on.

I sat alone at the kitchen table again. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Retrieving it, I saw it was a text from Rosanna, a friend from New York.

She was just asking about how it was going, whether there was a funeral, and what my plans were to return to the city.

"Hey, Rosanna. It's been hectic," I typed out. "Not sure when I'll be back yet."

She texted back:

"Oh no, really? Not even for Mikey's party next weekend?"

I had forgotten about it: Mikey threw legendary parties.

"No, not for the party," I replied. "Things are complicated here."

"Oh, sorry to hear that," she typed. "Just let me know if you need anything. We miss you here."

It was one of those texts you send, but in that moment, even the idea that people in New York missed me was very moving.

***

Later that afternoon, I had an appointment with a lawyer to go over the terms of Megan's will and specifically the guardianship. I needed to understand what it meant, how Megan's tiny estate had to be managed whilst Jared was a minor, and what forms I had to fill in to assume his care.

I walked into their office with a sense of trepidation. Taking a seat opposite the lawyer, I listened intently as he outlined the legal implications of becoming Jared's guardian.

"As Jared's legal guardian, you will have full authority to make decisions regarding his care and upbringing," he explained.

I nodded.

"And what about relocating him to New York?" I asked. "Can I do that if I wish?"

The lawyer paused, considering my question.

"As Jared's de facto parent, it is entirely within your rights to determine where he resides," he said.

Of course, taking Jared to New York would mean uprooting him from his hometown, his friends, and his school. It would be a monumental change that would shape his entire life.

Was it fair to uproot Jared from everything he knew and loved simply to satisfy my own needs? Then, for the first time, it hit me: this was what being a parent was.

As I left the lawyer's office, my mind was racing. But then my phone buzzed again. I took it from my pocket and looked at the screen. It was from Max.

How are you doing?

Do you want to get a beer tonight?

The invitation kind of caught me off guard, but I found I did want to meet him.

Sure

I pressed Send. It seemed a little remote, so I added:

I mean – great! Lol. When and where?

He sent me the location of a bar, the name of which I didn't recognize but which was hardly ten minutes' walk from Megan's house.

8?

Jared told me he would be back by 10:00. I guessed we could have a couple of beers, and I could be home by then. I tucked my phone back into my pocket.

Great