Софи Келли - A Tale Оf Two Kitties

“I did know that,” I said.

Mia smiled. “I forgot that you know pretty much everything.”

I smiled back at her. “Not everything.”

Mia looked in the direction of the chapel again and suddenly she looked profoundly sad. “I want to tell you something but you’re going to think I’m a bad person.”

I put my arm around her shoulders. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me think you’re a bad person. You could tell me that you glued the covers of every book in the library together and I still wouldn’t think you’re a bad person.”

“There’s no way you wouldn’t be mad,” Mia said.

I smiled. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t be mad, I said I wouldn’t think you’re a bad person.”

She laid her head on my shoulder. “I wish it was him,” she said in a small voice.

I realized she meant she wished Victor were dead instead of her grandfather. “That just makes you human.”

“Mary’s right,” Mia said. “You don’t know how to be mean.”

I grinned and shook my head. “I promise you that I do.”

She raised her head so she could look at me. “What was the last mean thing you did?”

“Yesterday I threw a can of creamed corn at a squirrel that was chewing on one of my Adirondack chairs in the backyard.”

“No.” Her eyes widened.

“Yes.”

I’d also yelled and stomped my feet on the back steps, but the squirrel had simply looked at me like I was a toddler having a tantrum and then gone back to chewing on the arm of the chair.

“Did you hit the squirrel?” Mia asked.

I shook my head. “Not even close.” I leaned my head against hers. “It’s okay to feel mean and petty, just try not to act that way.”

I looked out the window by the front door. Two cars pulled into the parking lot, one behind the other. “Are you okay? Are you ready?” I asked.

Mia nodded. “I can do this,” she said. The look in her eyes reminded me of Simon and I had no doubt she could handle the day. I just wished that she didn’t have to.

I was surprised at how many people showed up for the funeral, although I shouldn’t have been. Mayville Heights was a small town and people knew one another going back generations. More than once I’d found out that someone I knew was third cousin twice removed of someone else I knew. It could be a little claustrophobic at times but from the perspective of someone who had moved around a lot as a child I found it warm and welcoming.

Mary and her husband arrived with Mary looking uncharacteristically sedate in a dark blue dress. Rebecca and Everett came in behind them. While Everett was talking to Simon, Rebecca walked over to me. “How is she doing?” she asked, tipping her head toward Mia, who was talking to Mary.

“Better than I would have done at the same age,” I said.

“She has the same vein of inner resilience that both her grandfather and father have,” Rebecca said. “Leo was a good man. You would have liked him if you’d been able to get to know him.”

I thought about the one time I’d met Leo Janes at the library and the love and pride I’d seen on his face when he looked at his granddaughter. I had liked him.

Rebecca was wearing a tie-dyed, pale blue silk scarf at the neck of her navy blue suit jacket. It reminded me of the scarf I’d found on the sidewalk the night of Leo’s death. “I forgot to tell you,” I said. “I found your scarf.”

“What scarf would that be, dear?” she asked.

“It’s just like this one,” I said, reaching out to finger the ends of the silky fabric around her neck. “Only in shades of yellow instead of blue. I found it on the sidewalk the night . . . the night Leo . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Rebecca touched my arm. “I didn’t lose a scarf,” she said. “I don’t own any yellow scarves at all. Someone walking by must have dropped it.”

Across the room Everett caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. She gave my arm a squeeze. “I’ll talk to you after the service,” she said.

I nodded.

Harrison Taylor came in with Harry Junior and Larry—Harrison’s younger son—all three men dressed in dark suits and ties. Harrison shook hands with both Simon and Victor. He took Mia’s hands between his own large ones and said something to her that made her smile.

I watched Harry Junior speaking with Simon and I couldn’t help wondering again why he and Leo had argued in the gazebo.

Marcus walked in then dressed in his dark blue suit with the blue tie my mother had sent him from Los Angeles the last time she’d been there. Simon caught sight of him at the same time and, as I watched, he excused himself from Harry and turned to Marcus. Marcus offered his hand and Simon took it, leaning in as he spoke. I saw Marcus nod at whatever the other man was saying.

The conversation was brief. Marcus made his way over to me. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“How’s Mia?” he asked, looking over at the teen standing tall and poised next to her father and uncle.

“All right,” I said. “I wish she didn’t have to go through this.”

“I wish no child did,” he said.

“Are you here to watch Simon or to look for other suspects?” I asked.

“I’m here because it’s my job,” he said. “Simon wants to talk to me this afternoon. Do you know why?”

Before I could answer Daniel Gunnerson came out to collect the family for a private moment before the service. Simon turned to look for me.

“I have to go,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

Marcus’s hand brushed mine. “Go,” he said. “I’ll bring you dinner later.”

• • •

The service was simple but very moving. Mia held on to her father’s hand with one hand and mine with the other.

Mary spoke from the heart about her friendship with Leo when they were young. More than once people laughed at the memories. She told the story about Leo kidnapping the mascot of the high school in Red Wing and how the first Christmas she and her husband were married, Leo came and helped put up the Christmas tree after Mary had kicked her husband and burst into tears when he said she had a crooked eye because it turned out the tree had a decided list to the left after she’d fastened it in its stand. She finished by laying her hand on the urn at the front of the room, saying, “Rest well, my friend.”

Simon reached for Mary’s hand as she passed on the way back to her seat and she blew Mia a kiss.

Simon spoke briefly about his father, about how Leo had encouraged him to go after his dreams. He smiled a tight smile. “He made me the man I am today, for better or worse.”

To my surprise Victor Janes went to the podium. Mia tightened her grip on my hand so much that my fingers began to go numb. I suspected Victor speaking hadn’t been planned. I felt a pang of sympathy for the man. He was the one with a serious illness, trying to atone for his past mistakes, and now his brother was dead. He’d run out of time but not in the way he’d likely expected.

Victor cleared his throat and looked out over the rows of people, all friends of Leo or of Simon and Mia. “Leo was the older by seven minutes and he always felt that gave him the right to act like a big brother,” he said.

From the corner of my eye I saw Simon’s shoulders tense.

Victor stared down at the podium. “He was a great brother and I wish I’d said that more often.” He looked at the copper urn for a long moment and then took his seat again.

Mia spoke last. She talked about what a great grandfather Leo was, how he’d played tea party with her and dressed up at Halloween but how he’d also read poetry to her and corrected her when she said “like” too much. Her voice was strong and her hands on the edge of the podium were steady, although unshed tears shone in her eyes.