The Second Part of Chapter 13: We Will Remember

The service ended, and James’s family and friends went into another room at the funeral home, where a luncheon with some wine was waiting, serving as the wake; it was one of the features offered by the funeral home.

At the wake, Jonathan and Iris, who had been married for ten years with two children who they left with Jonathan’s sister, were discussing Clarissa while drinking wine.

Jonathan said, “At the service, she would not stop crying; how could she, after all? Her husband, the love of her life, had died, after all.”

“Of what, do you recall?”

“I believe it was heart trouble. Apparently, James had fatty build-up in his carotids, and he died of a heart attack.”

“He hadn’t told her, either. That’s why it came as such a shock.”

“Do you think it’s in bad taste to be serving buttery pastries at his funeral, accompanied by salted herring, considering the way he died?”

“I don’t think so; it’s not like we’re at great risk of ending it now; I think his case was one of incredibly bad luck,”

“I still didn’t want to eat much; it makes me reconsider potato chips,”

Iris said, “Does that mean I get the whole bag you purchased last week?”

“You’re welcome to it,”

“She looked a mess,”

“Poor Andrea.”

“Her name is Clarissa,”

“Right.”

“Indeed,”

“…Uh, what do you mean?”

“Well, we have known James for five years, and you can’t remember his wife’s name?”

“We’ve only seen her once or twice,”

Iris reminded her husband: “They had us over for dinner, remember? Right when they returned from their honeymoon,”

“I remember that. They were so beautiful together. They were finishing each other’s sentences, and we had the most engaging conversation about China’s role in the latest round of the WTO negotiations. I never knew anyone who could make the Doha Round or China’s monetary policy so interesting.”

“I nearly nodded off when they were debating the minutiae of the… what was it? The Yuan. Only an economist would find that engaging.”

“I’m an economist, you know,”

“It also seems a rather…boring and wimpy way to go.”

“Not necessarily. My father died when he was blowing his nose. He breathed in to hard, inhaled and choked on a tissue. You know what happened to my cousin Larry? He was walking in a forest, an old rotten birch snag collapsed at that moment, and the trunk hit his skull. There’s no really good way to go, but my grandfather heard a really good joke one day, and laughed so hard that he choked; he was dead in ten minutes, but he was eighty-seven, and that was 1985. It’s become something of a family legend.”

“Your father was seventy-eight, though, and what happened to Larry was sheer bad luck. James, on the other hand, was thirty-three, and the household was dual income.”

“Not at that time it wasn’t. Forgive me; my name is Maurice. I had laid James off on the day of his death. I can’t help feeling at least a little uncomfortable. What can you do during a poor economy?”

“Tell me about it. My friend’s aunt, Suzanne, had to take a pay cut to keep her job at Home Depot; I guess people aren’t making as many renovations as they used to,”

“Clarissa said that he died when she told him she was pregnant.”

“Fortune can be such a bitch sometimes.”

“Jon!”

“I know, I know. My son Mike had a tough time getting into the job market during the recession
last year. It’s tough; you need a foot in the door, and young people don’t usually have that, they have all this competition from laid-off older workers, and people were just not hiring.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Maurice. How do you feel about losing an employee?”

“Rather uncomfortable at the moment; I admit I laid him off, in consideration of the economy,”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What does your company do?”

“Economic consulting. Last year in particular was an interesting time for business; there was so much stress, a lot of complicated assignments and projects, and fifteen of our customers went out of business. We’re just trying to recover that market now, and create new opportunities. So much of the recession has been about structural change; the manufacturing sector is shrinking, while others, such as the service sector, retail, education and all that, are growing, which creates some trouble with employment. I think I relied a bit much on the business of manufacturers, such as car part makers like that car seat upholsterer, Inxton Incorporated; had they stayed in business, I think our firm may have been able to turn a profit this year. It’s a funny thing, incidentally; their bankruptcy freed up a timeslot at a banquet hall at the perfect time for the bereaved and the deceased to wed.”

“Interesting,”

“Anyways, Inxton left a large hole in our customer base; with corporate clients, the base is small to begin with, and their going out of business forced us to cut staff; I hated doing it, I delayed it by nearly two months, and it was so tough doing it; the axe man is one description I would prefer not to use for myself, but right now, it seems all too fitting.”

Laura was standing near the three discussing the economy, which to her only added to the glum atmosphere; it wasn’t that economists meant badly, but it was simply so unimaginative to represent everything with graphs and then not helpfully explain them. The unhappy atmosphere––maybe it had something to do with the light––did nothing to improve what she was eating, which was a profiterole; for one who died of a heart attack, it seemed at least a bit lacking in taste to be serving something so rich and loaded with trans-fats at his funeral. She only realised this after she had eaten most of the pastry, and the thought turned her perception of the taste of the whipped cream filling from one of intense pleasure to something plain and mushy in her mouth.

Kevin, who was sitting in an armchair at the other end of the room, near a north-facing window, looked outside at the drizzle. Like everyone else, he was feeling sad; he, like everyone else, was in mourning; this event really ought not to have happened, and the mourners all looked, appropriately enough, unhappy. For himself, he would have preferred to spend the Saturday at the gym rather than at the funeral home, but it was nice catching up with Henrietta, who was talking to Cindy, who only showed perfunctory interest.

Previous Next