Ann was in the kitchen now preparing coffee and cake. Cindy scanned the living room quickly to make sure everything was in order. But no matter how much she tried to spruce it up, the room looked sad and tousled.
Cindy puffed the cushions on the sofa, and arranged them neatly. She had stacked the piles of gifts they’d received for the wedding in the corner. She’d forgotten all about them, hadn’t noticed the gifts since she’d returned. They stood there as an awful reminder of a life that could have been.
Now she quickly went over, lifted them a few at a time, and brought them into Clint’s study in the rear of the house. The last thing she wanted was to have the family looking the gifts over, asking for them to be opened or pushing her to send thank you cards. She would when she was ready. It was all way too much right now.
“How are you doing?” Ann called in from the kitchen.
Cindy could smell the delicious fragrance of coffee and homemade cookies wafting into the living room.
Ann walked out of the kitchen and looked Cindy over. Ann was wearing a casual pair of slacks and an old familiar, blue sweater. Her light brown hair was brushed neatly down around her moon-shaped faced face. Ann was deeply at home with herself. Whatever she wore, she looked lovely, ready for whatever circumstance presented itself. Cindy envied that. She often felt awkward, and Clint’s family intensified that. When they were around, she felt as if she never made the grade.
Ann looked her over in disapproval. “If you’re not going to change, will you at least just brush your gorgeous, tasseled hair.”
Cindy smiled. Ann always tried to make her feel beautiful . The doorbell rang, and Cindy and Ann looked at each other.
“Can you answer it?” Cindy asked.
Ann nodded, and headed for the door.
Cindy went to the bathroom, closed the door, and listened. The quiet, muted voices carried through. Cindy splashed cold water on her puffy cheeks, and took a deep breath.
Finally, she opened the door.
Clint’s family was already seated. His mother sat beside Clint’s father on the sofa. They sat at opposite ends and did not touch. His sister Marge sat next to her husband Ralph in the sand-colored chairs that faced the couch. Everyone was dressed in either navy blue or black. Ann sat facing the family on a thin wooden bench. It had a long paisley cushion on it. The room felt stultifying.
Ann quickly got up when Cindy entered and pulled over a comfortable chair for her. Cindy wondered how she would ever get along without Ann at her side. As she sat down, she felt every eye in the family boring through her . Marge started coughing and Clint’s mother put her head in her hands. It was a terrible moment for them all. Cindy wanted to say, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But the words wouldn’t come.
“Would you like some coffee and cookies?” Ann asked, getting up to serve them.
“Not right now,” Clint’s father mumbled. He seemed much weaker and sounded distant and sad, as if this were all much more than he could bear.
“This is the worst possible thing that could happen for my father,” Marge blurted out. “He has to be careful of his heart and it’s been hurting terribly all week long. He’s on extra medication now,” and she looked at Cindy darkly, as though perhaps, she was to blame.
“I’m so sorry,” Cindy said.
“We thought you would take good care of Clint,” his mother lifted her head and stared at Cindy. There was not an ounce of sympathy in her. The entire family was wrapped only in their own grief. “We still can’t understand how something like this could have happened,” his mother persisted.
Cindy felt her heart start to pound and her lips get dry. What were they intimating? Fortunately, Ann came to the rescue.
“This was a horrible accident,” she said quietly. “If Cindy could have prevented it, she would have. She’s suffering, too.”
Ralph, Marge’s husband, cleared his throat when Ann said that. “We’re all suffering,” he said. “We recognize that.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Ann replied.
“We didn’t come here to argue,” Ralph stated, in his flat, orderly, dry tone.
What did you come here for? Cindy wanted to ask them, but held her tongue. She could feel the raw emotion not only in her, but everyone there. It could explode at any moment and wreak havoc in their lives. She had heard of things like that happening after a death—families fighting, wild accusations, even when the death was expected, even when it was natural. Cindy placed her hands on her lap and folded them together.
“None of us are clear about what exactly happened,” Ralph took the lead. It sounded as though he’d prepared his words to the letter.
In a swift moment, Cindy realized this was not a condolence call. The family wanted facts, information—they wanted someone to blame for this nightmare. Thankfully, Ann had some experience with these kinds of situations. Before she started her own consulting business, she was trained as a social worker and had worked in a hospital for a few years before her marriage .
Cindy looked at Ann, pleadingly.Do something, she wanted to say, fill the empty spaces, answer their questions, make all this go away.
Ann got the message.
“What would you like to know, Ralph?” she said.
“It’s not just me, of course, it’s the entire family,” Ralph answered carefully.
“Of course,” Ann replied professionally. “What questions can I answer for you?”
“I don’t want to hear from you,” Clint’s mother’s face flushed. “It’s Cindy I want to hear from. She’s the one who was there.”
“Cindy has already told everyone what happened,” Ann said.
“No she hasn’t. Not enough. I want to know more—much more.”
“I know how hard this is for you,” Ann said to Clint’s mother quietly.
“No, you don’t,” his mother hissed. “Nobody can know what it’s like for a mother to lose a son. Certainly not a new bride, who only knew him for a year. I knew him his whole life long. From the day he was born. I carried him inside me for nine months.”
Cindy felt woozy again, almost like fainting. “I’m so sorry,” she said to his mother.
His mother’s head flipped upwards, like a cat. “Sorry isn’t enough,” she said.
Ann got up and stood between Cindy and her. “Excuse me,” she interrupted, “but my sister is in pain as well. I hope you realize that.”
“I don’t realize anything,” Clint’s mother said. “I don’t know how in the world I could have lost a son. And I want answers from the last person who saw him alive.”
Cindy choked back the tears that were forming.
“We never felt good about this marriage,” Marge chimed in. “There were a lot of questions which were unanswered.”
“Like what?” Anne said.
Marge turned and looked to Ralph for help.
“Like why Clint, such a young man, would take out such a large insurance policy, just before a new marriage. It’s not par for the course.”
“I told Clint to tell you he was doing it,” Cindy said. She had enough, and stood up. “I never wanted the policy. I told him not to, but he said he wanted to protect me, in case anything ever happened. Clint was like that. Very protective.”
“You don’t have to tell us who Clint was,” Marge said.
“Then why do you have all these questions?” Cindy said.
“We’ve heard different stories about what happened on the island,” Clint’s father spoke up suddenly.
“From who?” Cindy asked.
“From different relatives.”
“Your relatives weren’t on the island,” Cindy said forcefully.
“But everyone’s looking into what happened,” his father continued, “they all have different opinions.”
Cindy felt ill. Clint’s family was suspicious of everything, and she’d known it before they married. Even Ann warned her about it, but she hadn’t paid a bit of attention . Now, for a quick moment, she was sorry . She didn’t want to ever have to see any of them again.