eyes rolled towards me in a dead stare. The blanket starts to slip,
and I quickly pull it back over his head.
There is only one bathroom on the plane. After
I have relieved myself, I stay in there a good ten minutes splashing
water over my face and thinking about Miami. My mom has just died
and seeing her there in the casket was the first time I'd seen her
in almost five years. While I delivered my eulogy yesterday, I imagined
her sitting up during the funeral and complaining I didn't call enough~or
that last year I hadn't called at all. She always was a temperamental
The night before the funeral, I pulled
up along the curb of 4744 Buena Vista Drive, my sister's house. Checking
the address off my printed directions, I switched off the rental car's
engine. I climbed out, got my backpack out of the trunk, and walked
up to her door.
A wide-shouldered man answered. "Who the hell
I had forgotten about the time difference.
11:30. The kids were probably in bed. "Marty. I'm Clarissa's brother."
"Marty?" His eyes roll over my wrinkled black
coat and string tie suspiciously.
behind him I hear my sister ask, "Sam, who's there?"
She must've told him how I'd abandoned the
family, how I'd broken her heart and left her alone with Mom, because
he turned back to me and said, "There's a motel down on the intersection
of Main and Eighty-fifth. Keep going straight for half a mile and
then hang a right. We'll see you tomorrow morning." He closed the
door. I began to understand why Mom objected to Clarissa's marrying
him eight years ago~at the time she'd called him a "brute,"