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Authors: Cary West

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BOOK: The Price
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“Maria eats with us,” stated Jack firmly, glaring at Marnie.

“Mother, Maria is our friend.” Kate was appalled and almost embarrassed by her mother’s rude behavior. “She has been gracious to travel with us and help with Jesse.”

“But I thought she was your housekeeper and the child’s nanny?” stated Marnie, maintaining her composure.

“She is family,” said Kate curtly, sensing Maria’s awkwardness. “And she stays; otherwise, we leave tonight.”

“Kathryn don’t be so overdramatic,” Marnie waved her hand in the air and laughed. “If you want her to stay, she can stay.”

Kate gave Maria an apologetic look. God she hated it when her mother acted like she was superior to everyone else.

“No harm done, Señora.” Maria nodded and reached over and took Jesse.

There was a moment of awkward silence, but leave it to Marnie to break the ice or crack it altogether.

“The cook has made a dinner that the gods themselves would be jealous of,” said Marnie, acting as if everything was fine. “Maria,” she addressed the older woman. “Have-you-ever-had-filet-mignon?”

Kate looked at Jack who was now gaping disbelievingly at Marnie.

“Mother, Maria speaks English.” Kate rolled her eyes.

“She does?” Marnie looked at Kate then at Jack and shrugged. “Well, most of the help is imported from Mexico, and we all know how broken their English is.” She laughed, ignoring Jack’s intense stare. “I just assumed she was, too.”

“We all look like we come from Mexico,” said Maria, bouncing Jesse on her shoulder. “But I come from Portland, Oregon.”

“What language do they speak up there?” Marnie inquired.

“I think its Portlandese,” said Jack, sporting a snide grin.

“You’re making that up,” Marnie scowled, seeing everyone having a good laugh at her expense. “I will not have you being condescending to me in my own home.”

“I wasn’t being condescending,” stated Jack, and he winked at Kate.

Marnie caught the exchange and slammed her napkin on to her plate.

“You come to my table looking like a hired hand, and now you show me disrespect,” she snapped. “I won’t have it, Jack.”

“Mother, Jack didn’t mean anything by it,” said Kate, in an effort to diffuse the situation. “Tell her Jack, you didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated matter-of-factly, just as the server came out and served the main course.

The room got quiet for which Kate was grateful. As far as she was concerned, the less conversation the better now that everyone seemed to semi-enjoy their meal. But the tranquility wasn’t going to last long if her mother had her way, which she always did.

“Kathryn, tell me how is teaching going this year?” asked Marnie, interrupting the silence.

“Very well, Mother.”

“And how are you handling my daughter being gone from the home?” She looked at Jack.

“We’re managing.” His eyes moved over his plate and glanced at Kate.

“What are you looking at Kathryn for?” Marnie caught the glimpses. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” replied Kate, and then looked away with eyes fixed on finishing her meal.

“Yes, everything is perfect.” Jack added.

Marnie gave her son-in-law a disgruntled look. He was too arrogant for her liking, and she hated his non-conformist ways all the way down to his cowboy boots and unkempt hair.

“You know Jack, my hairdresser could do wonders with that straggly hair of yours,” said Marnie. “If you want I can call him and he could have you all groomed before the funeral.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my hair,” said Jack, running his hands through the sandy locks. “I like it just the way it is and so does your daughter.”

“I highly doubt that. My Kathryn is use to a man who is properly groomed.”

“I like Jack’s hair,” Kate chimed in before taking a sip of her water from the thick crystal glass.

“That’s right, you do, baby,” Jack grinned justifiably. “If I cut it, Kate wouldn’t have anything to grab on to when she screams out my name while I’m loving her good.”

Kate choked on her water, spraying a stream across the table.

“You are a crass man, Jack McBride.” Marnie threw her fork on her plate, making a loud clink.

“I am who I am,” said an inflated Jack. “Don’t try to change me, Marnie.”

“I would think at least for my daughter’s sake, you would try to act civilized,” she spat. “I do hope tomorrow at the funeral you will find some semblance of manners.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jack smirked. “But I ain’t making any promises.”

“This is what makes you happy?” Marnie shot Kate a look that made her want to disappear into the seat.

“Mother can we please just finish dinner?” asked Kate.

“Fine, far be it from me to make waves,” said Marnie. “But if I had my way, I’d have you in Dr. Feinstein’s office tomorrow, so he could evaluate you for some kind of post-traumatic disorder.”

“Who’s Dr. Feinstein?” asked Jack.

“Mother’s therapist,” she sighed.

He glared at Marnie. “You want Kate to see your shrink?” His back pricked with irritation.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” said Marnie, now feigning her own smug grin. “Maybe he would be able to explain my daughter’s destructive need to be with a man like you.”

“For the record Kate doesn’t need a shrink,” growled Jack. “And as far as I’m concerned, we’re doing just fine on our own.”

“I think thou doth protest too much,” Marnie said under her breath with satisfaction upon seeing the rise she got from her son-in-law.

His eyes narrowed and he squeezed his lips tight as if he just ate a dozen lemons. Kate couldn’t help a small giggle after seeing the expression on Jack’s face.

“Okay you two, can we call a truce for the night?” she exclaimed. “It’s been a long day, and I need to conserve all my strength if I’m to get through the funeral tomorrow.”

Jack reigned in his temper. Kate was right. There was going to be enough tension tomorrow at the funeral. For tonight, he would put his differences aside, even if his mother-in-law did think Kate needed a shrink for marrying him.

The rest of the dinner went relatively smooth with everyone being on they’re best behavior. The controversial topics were avoided, which left for discussion about sunshine and the beach, relatives that were coming tomorrow—which Jack had no clue who they were—and Kate’s teaching.

By the end of the evening, Jack, Kate and their son retired to their room and Maria disappeared down the hall to a more modest accommodation. Day one had ended on a fairly decent note.

ELEVEN

HE NEVER LOOKED BETTER

The day of the funeral came. As usual Kate was late, scurrying about the bedroom rushing to get dressed. It was a miracle they made it to the funeral in time. Pulling up in front of the white building with black shutters, Charles St. Claire’s ex-wife, daughter and family exited the black stretch limousine and made their way into the establishment.

The funeral home was jammed packed like sardines in a can, with rows of what Jack could only assume were friends and family. There must have been over two hundred people waiting to pay their respects to the grieving widow; standing by her deceased husband who was now resting comfortably in a plush, satin-lined coffin.

She plays the part well
, thought Jack, watching the auburn haired woman dab at the corner of her eye with a dainty, white handkerchief while a stout gentleman offered his condolences. She was younger than he imagined. Cheryl St. Claire couldn’t have been more than forty, and from the looks of the departed Charlie, he had to have been in his late sixties when he bit the bullet and nose-dived into the hereafter.

Kate nudged Jack and nodded toward the back of the funeral home. She didn’t want to stand in line. As a matter of fact, she was hoping to get lost in the crowd, and she motioned for them to take a seat in the back row. But Marnie St. Claire had other plans. She scooped up Kate before she had a chance to sit, and shuffled her through the condolence line all the way up to the front, until they stood before Cheryl and the departed. She paid no attention to the patron ready to pay his respect as she pushed the man aside and came to an abrupt halt in front of the coffin, pulling Kate alongside her.

Marnie gazed at her ex-husband, the gray-haired man lying peacefully in a jet-black suit with hands folded over his chest.

“The least she could have done was put you in an Armani suit rather than some knock off Gucci,” Marnie scowled, looking at the dearly departed. “Really, what were you thinking, Charles, marrying that trollop?” Marnie sighed and glanced at her daughter. “He does look semi-peaceful, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” said Kate, shrugging awkwardly, and staring at the man who barely resembled her father. “He aged since the last time I saw him.”

It was all she could think to say about the man she felt nothing for.

“It’s the poor makeup job and the embalming fluid,” stated Marnie like she was critiquing a beauty contestant instead of the deceased. “Anyone who is anyone knows Carl Weinstock is the man you go to after you’re gone. Remember that, Kathryn, when it’s my time to go. I want to look my best and put to shame his two-bit floozy.”

“What will it matter, Mother?” said Kate. “You’ll be dead.”

“I want to look better even as a corpse than your father’s tramp,” said Marnie, and she looked up directing her attention to the grieving widow. “Cheryl dear, how are you holding up?”

Marnie St. Claire moved with grace and ease toward the new Mrs. St. Claire. Only her mother could steal the limelight away from a grieving widow. In spite of it, Kate couldn’t help being impressed.

“Marnie,” Cheryl plastered a welcome, grieving smile to her face. “I’m so glad you could make it. I know Charlie would have wanted you here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” stated Marnie. “Neither would Charlie’s daughter.”

“Kathryn,” exclaimed Cheryl, seeing the blond-haired woman over Marnie St Claire’s shoulder.

“Hello Cheryl.” Kate stepped forward.

She felt that all-too-familiar school-girl awkwardness, remembering her last visit with her step-mother and father right before she went to college.

“I’m glad you came,” said Cheryl taking her hand. “I know your father would have wanted all of his family here to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” continued Kate.

It seemed like a cliché, but what else could she say?

“Are you here alone, or did you bring your new family with you?” asked Cheryl, proffering a cliché of her own, though her attention no longer rested on her step-daughter, but a distinguished looking gentleman waiting patiently in line behind Kate.

“Yes, they’re here.” Kate motioned to Jack to bring their son. He moved along the crowd and came to rest beside his wife. “Cheryl, this is my husband Jack and our son, Jesse.”

The woman did a double take, and her bright pink lips turned upward into a showy smile.

“Well now, if we would have known how handsome your family was, we may have paid you a call sooner,” said Cheryl, her attention resting on Jack and not their son.

Her blue eyes lifted from mourning to sparkling as she studied the ruggedly handsome man before her.

“I am throwing a small get-together for Charlie’s closest friends at the house after the funeral,” she continued, and she slipped her hand around the crook of Jack’s arm. “Why don’t you both come back to the house? I’m sure Grandma here wouldn’t mind babysitting that darling boy of yours.”

“Yes, Grandma does mind,” scowled Marnie, seeing Cheryl cling to him like a chimp on a vine. “Can we at least wait until Charles is buried, before you go looking for husband number three?”

“I was being nothing but loving and gracious to my step-daughter and her new husband,” said Cheryl, displaying the worst acting job of being indignant Marnie had ever seen. “Which is more than I can say about you at this moment.”

“Let’s see how loving and gracious she is after the reading of the Will,” Marnie whispered to Kate but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“We’ll think about it,” said Kate, and she glanced at Jack who was looking way too amused than he had a right to be, considering the circumstances.

It quickly disappeared when she gave him a disapproving look and pulled him away from her step-Mother’s clutches.

“I hope to see you there,” said Cheryl. She gave Kate a formal embrace. “And Jack, don’t let her talk you out of it.”

She placed her hand in his. Jack felt a thin piece of paper fold into his palm as Charles St. Claire’s widow folded his fingers around it. She gave him an award winning smile, revealing an expensive set of veneers, then greeted the next guests in line behind Jack and Kate.

They moved through the crowd, taking a seat in the back while Marnie floated around the room and made small talk with friends and acquaintances. Jack opened his hand and saw the business card with Cheryl’s name and phone number printed on it.

“What’s that?” asked Kate, pointing to the card.

“I think I just got propositioned at your father’s funeral.” He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. “Well, this is a first.”

“Give me that.” Kate angrily snatched it from his hands, crumbled it up in a ball and tossed it over the seat.

“Wait a minute,” Jack exclaimed as he leaned over the seat to retrieve it. “This could be interesting.”

“Jack McBride, I swear to God, if you pick up that business card I
will
hurt you!” said Kate, royally pissed and snorting.

“I was only teasing,” he said, sitting back down. “I don’t want her card, baby.”

“I don’t find it humorous,” she glowered. “My father isn’t even cold in the ground, and she is hitting on my husband and you’re encouraging her.”

“I take it we’re not going to the get-together,” said Jack, and he nudged her.

Kate gave him such a look that Jack thought she would throttle him on the spot.

“No, the sooner we get out of here the better.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t wait for this damn funeral to be over. Look at all these people making a fuss over Charlie. I bet they couldn’t stand him when he was alive, but now that he is gone they love him.”

BOOK: The Price
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