Hey, everyone. Sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter. I was waiting for a weekend to roll around so I could get the optimal amount of readers. So, read, review and give me any advice, (I need as much as I can get). Has anyone heard any news about that new X-Men movie? Anyway, enjoy. P.S. Bush and Dick, four more years!
After the Fall: Chapter Seven, 'Family Ties'.
By: LolitaRed
Rated: PG-13, for more dagum dirty words.
Sanford's Lounge was the best low-budget lounge in Milwaukee. It was dimly lit by candles and chandeliers. Gran had reserved a big, circular room for their party. A short buffet was piled with the food Vivi and the family had brought. Several small, round tables were set up in the room, covered in black plastic tablecloths and two long white candles stood on each table.
Beth sat at the back table at the edge of the room, next to a window. In front of her was a plate piled with food. Dirty rice, a slice of fig bread, an orange muffin, a couple of Uncle Bucks rum balls, and some of Vivi's special Cajun stir-fry. She sat and shoveled the food in, picking out the green peppers.
Occasionally she'd look up and watch her cousins. Uncle Buck was laughing with Jack and his buddies over homemade Kahlua that they hid in black bottles. Vivi and the dark sisters were serving people at the buffet, chirping happily to one another. Liv and Chastity were at their own private table, nibbling on muffins. Sometimes Beth would catch them watching her eat.
Someone had highjacked the mousy-lady's CD player and filled it with twangy, country metal music.
Free Bird had just started as Gran came to her table, carrying a plate, and sitting opposite her.
"I can't believe them." she said, glaring at others. "This is a funeral dinner, for goodness sake, not some bar room hoe-down."
"Yeah," said Beth, mouth full of brown rice and crawfish. "Makes me wish your house had wheels under it."
Gran shuddered and picked at her plate, which Beth noticed, wasn't much to pick at. While her plate was so full that shrimp fell off the edge, Gran's was almost empty. A single helping of potato salad was plopped in the middle of her plate.
"Who made the salad?" asked Beth, swallowing.
"Ruth did." said Gran, poking a potato chunk with her fork. "She's a good friend of mine from church."
Beth looked over at the buffet. The mousy woman, Ruth, stood at the end of the table next to a big bowl of potato salad. The little kids dished up some rice and crawfish, but when they got to Ruth's salad they grimaced and walked back to their table. Vivi and the sisters looked down at the plain salad and shook their heads.
"Miss Ruth, darlin'." said Vivi, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You salad is good I'm sure, but where is the color? Where's the spice?"
"This is my grandmother's recipe." said Ruth, faintly, looking down at her creamy, gray salad.
"How dare she?!" whispered Gran, sounding a lot like an angry wasp. "Insulting that poor woman's cooking just because it's not as 'spicy' as theirs." Her hands gripped the table, knuckles turning white. "Their food is awful. All those spices can't be good for the stomach."
Beth sat, eyebrows raised, slowly chewing on a rum ball.
"Calm down Gran," she said looking back at her food. "We can only afford one funeral today."
"What's wrong with you?" asked Gran, setting her fork down on her plate with a clatter.
"What?" asked Beth softly.
"This is your mother's funeral and your sitting here cracking jokes." she said, staring at her sternly.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked, taking a savage bite out of her muffin. "Sit with a steel pole up my ass like you?"
"Bethany! Don't you ever talk to me like that!" she said, banging a fist on the table and almost knocking over one of the candles. People nearby turned and watched them.
Chest hot and tight, Beth decided it was better to make peace with Gran, for now.
"I'm sorry." she said, tugging at the napkin in her lap. "I guess I'm not handling this very well."
"Did you ever stop to think about what you would do if Zelda died?" asked Gran before taking a sip of red wine. "All girls should have some kind of plan, in case of a crisis. I thought you of all people would've had a plan."
"I plotted Mom's death, I never planned it." she mumbled. Gran's lips pursed. "Sorry. No more jokes, I promise."
Gran went back to picking at her food. Beth looked around. Ruth was sitting near the buffet, wrapping up the salad bowl in saran wrap. Her eyes were shinny and wet.
"I better go talk to her." said Gran getting up.
"Bye." said Beth, watching Gran walk over to her and pat her back.
Minutes flew by, full of tension, laughter, and music. Beth finished her food in under fifteen minutes and was left sitting with an empty plate, looking out the window.
The sky was a soft silvery gray. No blue showed. The trees seemed so green and dark compared to all that paleness. Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire began.
"Hey, babydoll." said Uncle Buck, swaggering over to her table. "What 'cha doin'?"
"Nothin'." she said, looking down at her twiddling fingers.
He sat, rather awkwardly, in Gran's seat. He didn't say anything at first, just looked out at his family, taking swigs off of his black bottle.
Beth looked out the window. She didn't really feel like talking.
"How ya holdin' up?" his gruff voice asked as he scooted the chair closer to her, clumsily. She could tell he was drunk, not shit-faced, just a little tipsy.
"I'm okay." she said, watching her chipped nail polish disappear under the clean white linen.
"You're a tough one, babydoll." he said, placing a bulging arm around her shoulders. "I knew it when you was a kid. Why, you was the only one that would help me shoo away dem rattlers in the summer. You're made outta somethin' fearless."
"I'm not so sure about that." she said, throat tight. This was a lot more different than scaring snakes.
"Aw. Don't you worry." he said giving her a little shake. "You'll find your footin' and ride it out. Here, drink to your mama."
He hid the bottle under the table and passed it to her.
"Are you sure?" she asked, making sure no one was watching.
"Hell yeah!" he said, as she took the bottle. "Just don't tell your grandma or Vivi. They'd skin me alive if they knew I slipped ya some liquor."
She crouched as low as she could, Uncle Buck's bulk hiding her from view, and took a swig. The taste of vodka and coffee filled her mouth and made her pull a face.
"Little strong, ain't it?" he chuckled.
"Yeah." gagged Beth, passing the bottle back to him.
"I better get goin'." he said, taking a swig himself. "I think Vivi might have seen ya."
Beth looked around. Sure enough, Vivi stood a few tables away talking to one of the sisters, glancing at Uncle Buck out of the corners of her eyes. He stood, wobbling slightly, and walked over to her.
"Just what the hell do you think you're doin', Buck?" hissed Vivi, crossing her arms. "Why are you letting that poor child drink?"
Uncle Buck sat himself down in another seat, tipping his hat over his eyes and propping his boot-clad feet on the table.
"Now, Vivi, don't be throwin' yerself a tissy." he said. "It was only one sip and the girl looked like she needed it. Besides, it's all over and done with so no point in yellin' at me now."
"I swear," she said, brushing back a lock of white frizz. "I don't know what ta do with you."
Beth looked back at the window. Two people were getting out of a black Saturn in the parking lot. It took her a few seconds to realize it was the same two people from the cemetery.
The woman was pretty, in a Betty Rubble kind of way. Her short black hair bobbed and bounced as she hopped over the yellow parking block. The man looked as though he would have been handsome, if he cut his hair and ate more. His cheekbones stuck out like blades in his haggard, pale face, and the unkept hair on his head was starting to gray.
She watched them both as they wove through the parking lot and entered the lounge. Who were they? Why were they at the funeral? Why were they here now? Deciding that they must have been some other distant relation, Beth went back to looking out at the sky.
A few minutes later, she saw them enter their circle room. The girl stood out awkwardly in her bright blue dress, the color of summer skies. They both stood next to each other and whispered. The man craned his neck, looking around the room. He spotted her, their eyes met, then both him and Mrs. Rubble walked to her table.
"Hello," said the man, holding out his hand. "Are you Bethany Bancroft?"
"Yeah." she said, shaking his frail hand lightly. He smiled, which was more like a forced stretching of facial muscles.
"My name is William Powell, and this is Lily Sharp." he said, gesturing to the girl. "We read in the paper about your mother's funeral."
Oh, great.
"We would like to talk to you, if it's not too much trouble." said Lily, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand.
"About what?" asked Beth. Then remembering her manners, added, "Would you like to sit down?"
Lily took Gran's seat while Will stole a chair from a different table. Gran was over at the other end of the room, sitting and talking to Ruth.
"We'd like to talk about the crash." said Lily, rubbing her neck again.
"Um . . . " she said.
God, she didn't want to talk about that. Anything but that.
"You see," said Will, tracing the edge of the table with his fingers. "We. . . . lost our loved ones in that crash too."
A chill raced up her spine.
"My father died in the crash." said Lily, sighing deeply. "And William here lost his wife and six-year-old daughter."
The chill turned to a wave, a rolling wave of tension. The memory of an old man, a mother and her little girl resurfaced. A bitter shard of irony sliced at her chest. Those people were their family.
"I'm so sorry for your loss." she said to the both of them.
They thanked her, in the same hollow, dead way that Beth had thanked other people. Something said more for politeness than gratitude.
"What we'd like to know is, What happened?" said Lily. Will had remained silent, jaw
clenched and eyes watering. The calm before the storm. "The police won't give us a straight answer. Keep saying it was a 'freak, technical malfunction'. We thought, maybe you knew what really happened."
Breathe. In and out. The room shifted and swivelled. What could she possibly tell these people? That she caused the crash? That her fucked up mind had caused the people they loved to go plummeting into the lake? She didn't even know how she caused the crash. How could she explain it? Lie. Telling them short, vague, polite lies was the only way she could spare them.
"I'm sorry. Really I am. But I don't know what happened either." she said. A lie disguised in a half-truth. "I remember the plane falling, but that's about it. I passed out and can't really remember very much." She looked down at the floor, purposely staring so her eyes would water. Anything to get them to shut up.
"I'm sorry." said Lily. "you're so brave. You shouldn't have to be bothered with this right now." Beth felt like shit. A two-hundred pound, living, breathing, pile of shit.
"We'll go." said Will, getting up. The candlelight made his face more haggard than ever. "It was nice meeting you, Bethany."
"We'll be at the Sunrise Hotel if you want to reach us." she said pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Call us if you'd like to talk or something. Come here."
Beth stood up and hugged the woman. She smelled sweet but kind of sour, like she hadn't bathed in a while. After they had pulled away from each other, she handed Beth the card with the phone number. Beth knew she'd never use it.
She shook Will's hand again, said all the polite things she could say, and watched them walk back out of the room. Sitting down again, she felt the dark, thick muck roll and heave around her heart.
"Who were they?"
Her head shot up. Gran stood, hand gripping the back of her chair, black eye makeup smeared and splotched. She couldn't answer. Polite lies.
"I don't know."
There. Well, I don't really know what to put here, except the usually, 'review, hope you liked it, yadda yadda yadda'. So I'll just say this. Next chapter will probably be up next week, but don't hold your breath. Bush and Dick, four more years!!!!!!!
Review Response:
To Cygna Vamp: Thank you for reviewing and thanks for the suggestions, even though I had planned on most of them happening already. About Xavier counseling Beth for her overeating, obviously she needs to be counseled for more than just overeating. In fact, that's the least of her problems. Thanks for the suggestion though, I'm sure he must have a degree of psychology or know enough to counsel her. Talk to ya soon.
To DreamerLady: Here is the chap, finally! Hope it was worth all the wait. Sorry 'bout the missing ego, damn that speed demon! Email me or something after you read this. I must, must, MUST know what you think! Bye, beyatch!
To Absolute Omega: Sorry 'bout the name thing. It was very subtle. I snuck it in when Gran talks about the priest, saying "he's absolutely wonderful". Subtle, but I chose that word especially for you. As stated before, I have never (1. Been to a funeral. (2. Smoked cigarettes. So I had to make up both. I will make corrections though, so could you please tell me what does smoking a cig feel like? Glad you liked the humor. Poor, poor Gran. See ya. ;)