Evidence for Why Dad Shouldn't Get a Funeral

The old oak door crashed against the wall as sunlight entered the stale room, leading Kenzie in a blinding haze as she stormed outside. Behind her, Gail squinted as Kenzie’s long shadow covered her entirely before disappearing down the driveway.

Gail pointed sternly at the lawyer. “That’s everything Dad wanted us to know?” He squinted down at his papers and opened his mouth. A primal scream from outside sent his hands slipping and papers scattering instead.

“Actually, I don’t care right now. Stay here.” She turned from the comb-overed man raising a glum finger and ran outside.

Kenzie was already halfway down the driveway, practically walking into the disrespectfully gorgeous sunset. Gail heaved a sigh, wondering if she should replicate the sound her sister just made, before remembering the other family member inside. She swallowed the jargon and pivoted to screaming her sister down.

“Kenzie! Stop!”

The woman slowed like an unwound wind-up toy and bent over, hands to thighs, back rising and falling. Gail caught up with her, gravel crunching beneath her sandals. Kenzie’s breathing shook and hitched wildly. Salt-pale hair shrouded her face and brushed the ground.

Gail set her hands on her hips and stared at the sky, trying to subdue the uncomfortable cardiac flex in her chest.

After a minute, Gail set a light hand on the edge of Kenzie’s shoulder.

Her sister clutched at her hand. Then she straightened up and spun around. Gail tried to hide her wince. Kenzie wasn’t looking too good, to say the least, and it didn’t help knowing their faces were practically the same. The biggest difference was how they each used their faces. Gail certainly couldn’t imagine herself making the expression Kenzie was, a tortured amalgamation of injustice and shock and a mess of others Gail wouldn’t bother finding the words for.

“You heard what he said, right? You heard all that?” Her pupils were weirdly tiny, even for being in the bright sunset. Gail leaned back.

“Uh huh. Look, Kenz—”

“Why the hell would Dad do that?!”

Gail clamped her free hand over Kenzie’s mouth. Kenzie was still gripping Gail’s other hand, keeping it stuck to her shoulder, resulting in a pretzel criss-cross of arms. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed. Kenzie nipped her hand and Gail jerked back. Kenzie glowered at her.

“Why? Dad let the secret out.”

Gail muttered something inappropriate. Kenzie gaped and shoved Gail’s hand back at her.

“How are you not reacting to this?” Kenzie cried. “This is huge, Gail! This changes our lives!”

“Says who?”

“What?”

“This doesn’t have to change anything,” Gail insisted, keeping her voice low and measured. “The only person whose life will be changed by this is Mom’s. She’s right inside, Kenz, we can’t let her find out.”

“We can’t? She deserves to know more than her daughters do, if her husband fathered a child with another woman.”

The words fled across the landscaped lawn. Gail had a bizarrely vivid flashback to college, cackling over an improbable myth of a servant whispering a secret to reeds that spread the secret on the wind. The story didn’t seem funny now, or a myth.

She leveled Kenzie with a look that once cut her emotional little sister to ribbons. “Even if she deserves to—”

“While he was married to her!” Kenzie threw her hands up.

“—She shouldn’t hear it if she can’t handle it,” Gail snapped. “She’s an old woman. Dad’s death was bad enough. What will knowing this do to her?”

Kenzie fell quiet. She stared at Gail, who tried to arrange the answers to all of Kenzie’s questions on her face, free for the taking. But Kenzie crossed her arms.

“I don’t think it’s our call to make.”

The sisters looked at each other, at a stalemate. The view of the sunset glowed in every color, making Kenzie look like she was standing against a watercolor background, lit up by a halo. Gail ignored the brilliance and kept her eyes on her sister, but she was beginning to wonder if there was any ground to be gained with this stubborn girl.

A shuffle of gravel interrupted the quiet. Kenzie looked away first, and Gail followed her gaze at the lawyer making his way down the driveway. His briefcase was in one hand, a paper gripped in the other, resisting the nonexistent breeze.

“Apologies for interrupting, ladies,” the old man croaked in baritone. “But there is one final thing to convey from your late father. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I must recommend that discussion wait until you know everything.”

Gail’s shoulders dipped for a second. “There’s more?”

At the same time Kenzie said, “We’re listening.”

Gail shot a wary look at her sister. She’d switched her stare onto the lawyer.

The lawyer shook out the paper. “This is the final letter to you girls from your father. Don’t worry, it’s short.” He ruffled it once more and read aloud.

“My dear Gail and dearest Kenzie. You now know about your brother. And your brother knows about you girls, and this family, too. As of writing this letter, I’ve sent a correspondence to my son and informed him of who his father is and the side of the family he’s never known. I simply cannot die and leave any strings untied. Now that I’m finished, I leave them in the hands of you girls. It’s your turn to decide what to do with them. I love you both.”

Kenzie turned away and covered her face with her hair again. There was no mistaking her damp breathing as anything but sobbing this time.

The lawyer handed the letter to Gail. “I’ll leave this in your possession now. The other papers I’ve left organized inside.”

He tipped his hat to them and crunched down the driveway, obscuring the noise of crumpling in Gail’s hand.

The sun dipped below the horizon. Shadows stretched long and cool into the evening. Branches clawed at the grass, leaving dark gouges with dirty nails.

The back of her brain made a hundred yard leap. “The papers! They say everything. Where’d he leave them?”

She sprinted up the driveway as best as she could with the gravel and sandals. She crossed into the house and was surprised to see a second shadow darkening the doorway. Kenzie was furiously wiping her face, not doing much besides reddening her skin and spreading her mascara.

Gail’s feet paused.

Kenzie steadied her with a hand. “Mom can’t find out from a paper,” she said. Their gazes met, and an understanding passed between them.

The sisters crossed from the foyer into the adjacent study. From their session with the lawyer, the room was set up like an interview, or a firing. The lawyer had left the papers in a neat pile, binder-clipped to perfection, in the middle of the desk.

“Facing outward,” Gail grumbled. “And here I thought he was a professional.”

Kenzie peeked down the hallway and closed the door to a crack. “Mom must still be in the living room.” She glanced at Gail, standing before the stack of papers. “You hide them while I check on her?”

Gail shook her head and pointed at Kenzie. “It doesn’t matter how well I hide them if the evidence is on your face, Kenz. She’ll know something’s wrong.”

“And she didn’t know something was wrong when the lawyer asked to speak to us privately?”

Gail tsked. “She was probably glad to have a minute to herself. We can tell her we were talking finances. Properties. Everything she hates.”

The door closed with a click.

“I forgot how easy lying comes to you,” Kenzie muttered.

And time had only made it easier.

“I’m still surprised you can’t lie to save your life. Or your mother’s.”

Shh-thump. Kenzie had slid down a chair.

“Be awful all you want, Gail. I’ll still be here when you finally get over yourself.”

Be a wreck all you want. I’ll still be here to pick up the pieces.

The papers felt like knife edges between her fingers. There was silence for a long moment. Then Kenzie took a shaking breath.

“And I’ll be here when you realize you can’t ignore our brother. Dad told him everything. How can we leave him alone now?”

Gail muttered a curse. She leaned back against the desk, hands gripping the polished wood.

You’d think death would mean a shut mouth. Maybe it was open when he went into the cremator. Should’ve checked that.

A weird laugh burst out of her. Kenzie sat up and frowned at her.

“We can invite him to the funeral. Maybe give him closure that way.” Kenzie insisted, but the effect was killed by her voice turning watery again. She’d dissolve into rain before long, and when she did, it was hard work getting her solid again.

Gail ground her hands into the ridges of the desk. She peeled them off, feeling the impression leaving red marks in her hands. Then she clapped loudly, making Kenzie jump.

“Here’s what we’re doing. The address that Dad sent his letter to is copied.” She held up the final letter for her and Kenzie. “He’s in Washington state. We go out there. We find him. We get him to keep his mouth shut and not say anything.”

“We invite him to the funeral,” Kenzie repeated, nearly whined.

“We blacklist him from the funeral.”

“Abigail.” Nevermind watery. Kenzie sounded on the verge of tears. Again.

“Mackenzie.”

Some things were just hard to resist.

Kenzie’s face did something complicated. Gail sighed and braced herself.

Only for Kenzie to break into giggles.

“Not even Dad called me Mackenzie,” she hiccuped.

“I couldn’t get him to stop calling me Abigail,” Gail muttered. She eyed her sister, but Kenzie’s fluctuating feelings seemed to be harmless this time. Laughter was apparently the best medicine, because Kenzie giggled again before sobering up and looking at Gail with a lingering smile.

“We’ll find him first and figure it out from there. Like what the lawyer said; we shouldn’t start arguing before we have all the information.”

Gail bit her tongue. She didn’t reply. She just stared at Kenzie until her sister began to frown back at her.

There was a soft knock at the door. Then the knob turned slowly and a deeply wrinkled woman poked her head through.

“Are you two finished with the business?” Mom asked. Her voice was like cattails leaning on each other in a strong breeze.

Gail cleared her throat. “Yeah, the lawyer left.” She leaned her cheek on her hand casually, making eye-contact with Kenzie, who began surreptitiously wiping her face. The makeup only smeared further, badly enough that when Mom turned to look at her, Mom just pressed her lips together and smiled wanly.

“And how are you two doing?”

The sisters looked at each other. Gail raised an eyebrow. Kenzie gave her a what are you waiting for? look.

Gail turned to Mom. “Fine. Just fine.”

Mom sighed. “Good enough.” Behind Mom’s back, Kenzie fluttered her hands at Gail. It was only from years of sisterhood that Gail knew what she meant by the precise positioning of her ring finger. Gail sighed heavily and turned to Mom.

She wasn’t sure exactly what came out of her mouth, but it had to do with when Dad used to live in Washington state before meeting Mom, and that the silly old man had left some property out there undealt with. Yadda yadda they need to fly out to deal with it now blah blah blah there’s some financial deadline to meet urgghhhhhhhh need to push back the funeral. When Gail returned to the present, Mom had a wistful smile on her face.

“Your dad always told me he’d take me to Washington one day. Guess he’ll be keeping that promise after all.”

Kenzie managed to look blank and alarmed at the same time. “What?”

“I’ll come with you two,” Mom said. “I need to get out of this house anyway. Maybe we can have a little vacation, just the three of us?” The look on her face was heartbreakingly hopeful even as her voice quivered.

Kenzie smiled back. Gail thanked God for the tears in Mom’s eyes keeping her from seeing how Kenzie was screaming inches below the surface.

“You sure you won’t get bored? Or go insane from finance talk?” Gail tried. But Mom was worse than Kenzie when it came to these things.

“If I haven’t gone insane yet, I never will.”

Mom smiled lovingly at the sisters. Gail refused to look in Kenzie’s direction and focused on zipping her own feelings shut.

Seemed like all three of them would be heading out West. Gail reached behind her back and flipped the whole stack of papers over as quietly as she could manage.

She had no idea how this week would go. But Gail was willing to bet that her father wouldn’t be getting a funeral.