I parked the car across the street from the church and waited for Jazz who took my arm. We walked into the small white church together, signed the guest book, and looked at the gray heads populating the pews. Two or three thin haired men left bare spots between the hats and curls of the handful of women surrounding them. A solemn white haired man in a black suit introduced himself as Mr. Poyfair and walked us up the aisle to the front pew of the sanctuary which smelled of roses and lemon wood polish. The squishing of my boots thundered in my ears and I blushed feeling all eyes on me.
Jazz and I sat in the closest front pew. At the far corner an old lady played a mournful hymn which I didn’t recognize, and in the other front pew next to her sat the only other young person in the room, a dark haired man in his thirties wearing crisp black jeans and a black polo. He looked up to catch me staring at the black tattoos which ran down the uncovered parts of his arms. He smirked and pierced me with blue eyes the same shape as Jazz’s.
I looked away towards a narrow wooden table on the right which overflowed with white flowers, full headed roses, massive balls of tiny white blossoms, tulips, and my favorite flower Casa Blanca lilies with star shaped faces. Aunt Hildegard stared out of the gaudy gilded frame, a young lady in her thirties with flashing green eyes. Once the service started I was expecting a familiar hymn like “Amazing Grace,” but we sang an ominous song starting with the words, “Day of Judgement, day of wonders.” Then the pastor stood up and spoke. He told how he met Aunt Hildy a year ago when she started coming to his church, and he assured us of her regular attendance at Sunday services and the Tuesday Bible study. He praised Auntie’s eagerness to learn about God and thanked Jesus for her baptism last Easter. Then we sang some more sad hymns, and it was over. No one stood up to say anything. No one cried.
The ladies from Aunt Hildy’s Bible study had set out plates of homemade cookies and a pitcher of lemonade on a table in a small side room with walls lined with plastic chairs. Jazz and I walked over together. A couple of them came up to us and said they wished they had known Auntie better. I felt fraudulent taking the role of one of the chief mourners when I had never met her myself. When a funny lavender haired lady hugged Jazz and introduced herself to me as Auntie’s best friend Edna and pulled Jazz away towards another friend across the room, I stayed back hoping for a quiet moment. Before I could sit down though the young man stepped towards me with his tattooed arms extended as if he wanted a hug. Snake tongues reached down his hands flicking out at me.
“You must be my cousin Raymond.” I said avoiding the unwanted embrace by squeezing his fingers, “I’m Lilly Trelly, James O’Reilly’s daughter.”
“Raymond Jr.” he said nodding his head. He smelled of mouth wash.
It was kind of exciting to have a new cousin even if he was supposed to be bad.
I gushed, “It’s a shame we haven’t met before, but I haven’t met any of my father’s relatives. Did you know Aunt Hildegard well?”
“I grew up here and saw her when she was around, but she traveled a lot.” He said.
“And what are you doing now?”
“A little of this and a little of that. I’ve been finding my way,” he looked up at me, his smile reminding me of Jazz again, “But that’s all over. My life is about to change. Will you stay to hear the will read?”
“That’s a large reason I’m here though I wanted to show my respects to Aunty too. I heard she was a very interesting lady. I regret that I didn’t know her.”
“It’s too bad you never met the old lady. My grandma was her best friend, and even she didn’t know her well. Aunt Hildegard started opening up a year ago and then she had the stroke and now she died too soon.”
Jazz and I sat in the closest front pew. At the far corner an old lady played a mournful hymn which I didn’t recognize, and in the other front pew next to her sat the only other young person in the room, a dark haired man in his thirties wearing crisp black jeans and a black polo. He looked up to catch me staring at the black tattoos which ran down the uncovered parts of his arms. He smirked and pierced me with blue eyes the same shape as Jazz’s.
I looked away towards a narrow wooden table on the right which overflowed with white flowers, full headed roses, massive balls of tiny white blossoms, tulips, and my favorite flower Casa Blanca lilies with star shaped faces. Aunt Hildegard stared out of the gaudy gilded frame, a young lady in her thirties with flashing green eyes. Once the service started I was expecting a familiar hymn like “Amazing Grace,” but we sang an ominous song starting with the words, “Day of Judgement, day of wonders.” Then the pastor stood up and spoke. He told how he met Aunt Hildy a year ago when she started coming to his church, and he assured us of her regular attendance at Sunday services and the Tuesday Bible study. He praised Auntie’s eagerness to learn about God and thanked Jesus for her baptism last Easter. Then we sang some more sad hymns, and it was over. No one stood up to say anything. No one cried.
The ladies from Aunt Hildy’s Bible study had set out plates of homemade cookies and a pitcher of lemonade on a table in a small side room with walls lined with plastic chairs. Jazz and I walked over together. A couple of them came up to us and said they wished they had known Auntie better. I felt fraudulent taking the role of one of the chief mourners when I had never met her myself. When a funny lavender haired lady hugged Jazz and introduced herself to me as Auntie’s best friend Edna and pulled Jazz away towards another friend across the room, I stayed back hoping for a quiet moment. Before I could sit down though the young man stepped towards me with his tattooed arms extended as if he wanted a hug. Snake tongues reached down his hands flicking out at me.
“You must be my cousin Raymond.” I said avoiding the unwanted embrace by squeezing his fingers, “I’m Lilly Trelly, James O’Reilly’s daughter.”
“Raymond Jr.” he said nodding his head. He smelled of mouth wash.
It was kind of exciting to have a new cousin even if he was supposed to be bad.
I gushed, “It’s a shame we haven’t met before, but I haven’t met any of my father’s relatives. Did you know Aunt Hildegard well?”
“I grew up here and saw her when she was around, but she traveled a lot.” He said.
“And what are you doing now?”
“A little of this and a little of that. I’ve been finding my way,” he looked up at me, his smile reminding me of Jazz again, “But that’s all over. My life is about to change. Will you stay to hear the will read?”
“That’s a large reason I’m here though I wanted to show my respects to Aunty too. I heard she was a very interesting lady. I regret that I didn’t know her.”
“It’s too bad you never met the old lady. My grandma was her best friend, and even she didn’t know her well. Aunt Hildegard started opening up a year ago and then she had the stroke and now she died too soon.”