The sequel to Just a Phone Call.

My mother speaking:

I don’t know if I should bring this up, but did you know Alice Bates? I think maybe Joan does. She’s an old friend. Last year, she and her husband George decided to retire. They’re maybe sixty, married over twenty years. Second marriage for both. George was in the appraisal business and Alice sold Avon products on the side. She also did some waitressing on the weekends at that restaurant in St. Joe across from the Catholic church. She told me that was her social life, and so it might have been, when those children were all so young. I met her when she came to my Yoga class at USI; George told her yoga might help with her lupus.

He’s a good man. Didn’t read much but absorbed some NRA propaganda; hence the guns. His oldest daughter is not his but they brought her up as if she were. His youngest girl, Lisa, is married with two children and is probably the most attached to him. She even imitates his mannerisms. His middle daughter was killed in an auto accident last summer. He was inconsolable .

Alice had told me some time ago that she wanted them to take a vacation to Vegas to cheer him up. Gambling was something they both enjoyed–don’t know if they knew the odds…but they surely did. About two months ago they were returning from their cabin on Kentucky Lake when he got sick. He said his back hurt but his doctor at Deaconess here said it was lung cancer – Stage 4. They told him if chemo didn’t work, he had six months. The chemo made him pretty sick even with phenergan.

I called Alice two weeks ago to tell her about a Wall Street Journal article on cancer treatment. There was silence and then she said, “Too late, he took his life last night. I just thought kids were shooting off fireworks. There were about 15 cops in the house including detectives. They were very considerate–got to see all my dirt.”

I told her I had a robbery once and had left a mess–gone all day from early in the morning. The detective said, “They messed things up pretty good, didn’t they?” I had to laugh and admit that I was responsible for some of it.

I asked Alice how the youngest girl, Lisa, was doing.

“They had to medicate her”, Alice replied.

I called back two days later and Alice wanted to discuss the funeral. To see if it was okay to put it off until the 15th of July. The oldest girl who was not his, thought it should be sooner. I told her, “Do what feels right to you. It is not up to the children.”

Then Alice said, “I need to ask you something else. I’m scrubbing the rug. How do I get the blood out?”

I told her cold water first.

“I’m doing that but it isn’t getting it all out.”

“Hold on while I get an old cookbook with household hints. It says use a paste of starch.”

ëI don’t have any.’

“Do you have cornstarch? That will probably work.”

“Yes, “ now with voice breaking, “I’m going to miss him so.”

“Go ahead and cry, You must or you can’t heal at all.’”

“The floodgates open and we both hang up.”