Chapter 22: Another move and a proposal

Charli was buried in the family plot in Fargo, next to her baby sister. I had tried to argue for burying her near Bismarck so I could visit her grave, but my heart wasn't in it. The service was held at the Peace Lutheran Church on Divide Avenue. The church is fairly large and was almost full of friends and family. Practically the entire hospital staff showed up, as did all of Charli's brothers and sisters. Most of our friends came as well, and sexual orientation didn't mean a thing. Elmer and Diedre insisted I sit with them in the front row. Lisbeth sat next to me and held my hand during the service.

After the service, Donny drove my car in the procession to Fargo, 200 miles away. Lisbeth and Mom sat in the back seat and played some hand-held game. There were few cars, maybe ten or twelve in all, because most everyone else had had to return to work. The day was gray and overcast, befitting the occasion.

If you asked me today what I did or what I said between the night Charli died and the day of the funeral, I couldn't tell you. I was emotionless, a blank, an automaton that did as she was told. Lisbeth told me I spent a lot of time sitting and staring at the walls.

The graveside service was mercifully brief, then we drove to Charli's parents' house to eat. I think it is a strange custom to gather for food and drink after someone dies; others believe it to be a time for remembrance of the dead and fellowship. I stayed close to Mom and Lisbeth, my anchors to sanity in an insane world.

All during the drive to Fargo, I asked myself just what deity I had pissed off to warrant such intimate hurt. First my father and then Charli, two of the people I loved the most. What had I done? What injury had I caused, and to whom? I was — and am — unable to believe in predestination or karma. How could something or someone hate me so much? I had no answers.

We got home late, and after a brief kiss and a promise to return the next day, Donny went home. I went into the bedroom and froze; the reminders of Charli — her clothes, her scent, her jewelry, her stuffed animals on the bed — were a shock to my system. I stood there shaking and bawling until Mom came up behind me and hugged me, then I turned to her and cried harder.

Mom stripped me naked and tucked me into bed. "I'll be right back," she said. "You stay put!"

A few minutes later she returned with a bottle in her hand and began undressing. Kitty tingled at the sight and I thought, 'You traitorous bitch! How can you be in the mood for sex?' Mom stripped all the way too, and put the bottle and two small glasses on the nightstand. She sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand in hers.

"You've had a rough time the past year, haven't you?" she asked.

I thought about giving her a sarcastic answer and decided not to. "Yes. Yes, I have."

She poured one of the glasses full of amber liquid and handed it to me. "Drink," she said.

I did, and promptly coughed. Velvet fire coursed through my gullet and I sneezed.

"Wow," I said hoarsely. "What is that?"

"Some of the finest Scotch whiskey ever made," she replied.

I emptied the glass and said, "It has a nice flavor. May I have some more?"

She poured and I drank. Before I could say too much more, I was asleep.

I was sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, nursing a terrific headache, when Mom came in.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Rotten," I said.

"Serves you right," she said. "You drank damn near my whole bottle."

I glared at her. Whose idea was it to get me drunk? Then she grinned.

"You needed sleep. That was the fastest way."

I nodded my appreciation and chanced a piece of toast.

Yucch!

I took another swallow of beer.

Lisbeth joined us and Mom started cooking. The smell of food churned my stomach, and I got to the bathroom just in time. A warm shower helped a little; I think the three Tylenol were more effective.

I returned to the kitchen and drank some coffee. After part of a bagel, I felt halfway human. After she had eaten, Lisbeth went to Jessica's to hang out. I helped with the dishes and drank some more coffee. When the dishes were done, Mom sat with me and we talked.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"About what?" I said.

She waved her hands in the air and said, "Everything: Lisbeth, your job, the house, your self, that 'inner you' that feels so empty inside. You need to heal yourself."

"I'll file adoption papers or something right after I talk to Lisbeth and find out what she wants, then I'll go back to work. Roberta has been very patient and understanding with me, I don't want to let her down."

"And the rest?"

"I don't know. I'm lost, I'm sad, and I hurt."

"Understandable," she agreed. "Do you think you can stay here with so many memories?"

That brought tears to my eyes, but I wiped them away. "I don't think I want to, but I don't know what else to do."

"Can I stay here with you?" she asked.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Anytime!"

"I mean forever," she said. "I want to live with you and Lisbeth."

Going from maudlin and depressed straight to overjoyed is hard on the tear ducts. We hugged, we laughed, we cried and then we cried some more. Lisbeth heard the news when she came home about four, and the kitchen was a happy place once again. After supper, the three of us sat in the living room and Mom told us her plan.

"I've looked at some houses here, and I know of several that might be suitable. I sold my house in Arizona — that's what took me so long to get here when Charli was sick — and between us we can put enough down on the new one to make our payments fairly low."

Suspicious, I said, "Our payments?"

"I want to live here in Bismarck and I want to live with you, because there is absolutely no sense in having two houses. With what I have and what you can realize from the sale of this place, we can easily afford something really nice."

Lisbeth was watching our exchange intently, going from one to the other as if she were following a tennis ball.

"Define 'nice'," I said.

"A big lot, lots of trees, space for a nice garden, four bedrooms and three baths, maybe a fireplace or something ... oh, and a big garage!"

"What's something like that cost?" I asked.

"I don't know yet, but I bet we find out real fast."

Mom contacted a realtor, and for a week or two, it seemed as if all I did was look at houses in the evenings. Most were huge and overpriced — $350,000.00 or more — and none was suitable.

We squeezed Lisbeth's fourteenth birthday into our schedule, giving her money, clothes, a boom box and several gift certificates. I worried about her sometimes, and although she appeared to be getting over her mother's death fairly well, I'd catch her softly crying once in a while. I always hugged her and comforted her when those times occurred, but I think we both knew it wasn't the same. I wasn't her mother.

When Donny found out we wanted to move, he suggested adding two, three or even four rooms to our house; Mom and I told him that wouldn't work. There were just too many memories in the house and even though most were good, I couldn't shake the memory of Charli dying in these rooms. Even now, I'd find a forgotten pair of her shoes in the back of the closet, or see Lisbeth wearing one of her old sweaters and I'd practically come apart.

A week or so later, very close to the deadline for registering Lisbeth in school, Mom and I decided we'd put her in Riverside Junior High and drive her back and forth until we found something closer. We put my house on the market and waited. It was Donny who came up with a solution.

I remember it being a Saturday in September, and Donny drove up for another of his almost-daily visits and a meal. I welcomed him as usual, and the four of us sat in the kitchen.

"You still looking for a house?" he asked.

"One we can afford," I said.

"Does it have to be close to town?"

"Closer to Riverside High than here," I said.

He jangled his keys in his hand and smiled. "Come with me, ladies. Your chariot awaits."