Funeral with a View Read Online Free PDF

made
their way to the apartment, and her voice trailed off. Catherine gave me an
amused shrug, looked down at my crotch, and winked as my mother led her by the
hand, another casualty of Beth Franchitti’s personal tractor beam.
    A frosty beer was shoved
in my face, so close the label blurred.
    “Here,” said Glen, taking
a pull of his own beer. “I think you’re going to need this. I think you’re
going to need a lot of this.
    I slugged half the bottle
in one shot and reassessed the man.
    “Glen? I think we’re
going to get along just fine.”
     
    ~~~
     
    Smoke wafted into my eyes
as I finished up the first round of hot dogs and hamburgers. Mom, Glen, and
Catherine were at the picnic table with their drinks, talking and laughing. I
had a feeling that most of the laughing was at my expense. I hoped Mom wasn’t
telling Catherine the story of when I pooped in the pool at summer camp. The
thought made me thirsty for another beer.
    As I finished the
lukewarm dregs of my Newcastle and considered getting another, I heard the
familiar rumble of a Camaro pulling up in front of the complex. I’d know the
sound of the car anywhere. It was the sound of hot summer nights driving down
the strip in Seaside, looking to ‘bag some babes’ with my best friend.
    “Oh, Lucy, I’m
hooo-ooome!”
    “William!” Mom had a
tendency to call everyone by their full, given name whether they be family,
friend, or foe.
    She quickly got up from
the picnic table, almost knocking over her martini, and ran through the browned
grass, arms waving.
    “Hey, Beth.” Bill picked
her up and spun her around. Touching. She looked like a baby in his arms, not a
stretch considering he was a foot-and-a-half taller, and one hundred-fifty
pounds heavier. “How are you, hot momma?”
    “William, you flatter
me,” she said after he set her down, and swatted his ass. “And I’m doing much better now that you’re here, you sexy hunk of man.”
    They walked back, hands
clasped and grins plastered on their faces. I imagined them in a mental
hospital together and decided it was plausible.
    “Richard. William’s
here!”
    “No shit.”
    “What was that, dear?”
    “Nothing.” I shook Bill’s
hand. “Glad you could make it, buddy.”
    “Rick.” He gave Catherine
a tense nod. My mother noticed the exchange, and her lips formed a grim line.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, man. You know that.”
    “Well,” my mother said,
chipper as ever. “Let’s go get you a drink, William. Your timing is perfect. I
was just telling Richard’s little friend all of his embarrassing childhood
stories.”
    Bill threw his head back
and laughed. “Get to the dump in the public pool yet?”
    Sigh.
    “I was seven-years-old!”
    “Whatever you say,
Richard,” Mom said, waving dismissively. “Come on, William. Let’s go sit with
Glen and Catherine and have some more fun at Mr. Uptight’s expense.”
    “Music to my ears, Beth.”
Bill winked and flipped me the bird.
    Asshole .
     
    ~~~
     
    “Glen? Glen?”
    Mom and Glen’s
interactions reminded me of National Lampoon’s Vacation : “Russ!” “Right
here, Dad.” She yelled for the poor bastard even if he was right on top of her.
    “Yes, dear. I was just
coming back from the bathroom.”
    “Oh, there you are. Let’s
go back and freshen up our drinks and get some more of that potato salad. I
don’t know where the boys put all this food. Catherine, are you sure I can’t
you a drink? Something other than iced tea?”
    “No thanks Mrs. … Beth.
I’m not really a big drinker.”
    I took that moment to
choke on my hot dog.
    “Richard, maybe if you actually chewed your food you wouldn’t have choked, mmm?” Her mouth formed a
humorless line again. “Right, then. Glen and I will be back in a minute, won’t
we, Glen?”
    “Yes, dear.”
    Bill broke the silence once
Mom and Glen were out of ear shot.
    “Not a big drinker? You
could’ve fooled me,” he mumbled.
    Catherine shot daggers at
him.