Chapter Thirty-Five
Jarrod turned the knob and walked into the third bedroom and paused as he looked around the room. It was narrow and rectangular in shape; he saw that at one end was a small desk and chair. The majority of the room was given over to a bed, night table, and armoire against the far wall.
The walls were painted ivory, and the rug and drapes at the one window were done in colors of dark blue and light brown. Jarrod swallowed hard as he forced himself to look at the bed, noting the Crucifix over the headboard, at the opposite end of the room. Mother Flynn was lying there, on top of the bedding, with just a light quilt over her legs.
He walked over to the side of the bed and noted how still the older woman was. Jarrod bowed his head and said a prayer for the deceased woman, after feeling for a pulse on her neck. By now, in his life, he had seen more dead bodies than any human should have witnessed.
There was no reason to linger in the room, and Jarrod walked out quickly. In his mind he started to go down everything that needed to be done because of Mother Flynn's passing. In one way, he reasoned to himself, it was good that he could adopt his lawyer role, in dealing with all this.
Arriving at the Sunnyside Café, he saw the closed sign which did not surprise him; it was now half past four o'clock and the café closed at the top of the hour. Jarrod was glad because it would make it easier to tell Sharon the news. He was concerned about how she would handle it, which is why he was already thinking of the best way to ease her pain.
Jarrod walked around to the back of the café, which featured a small garden area with tables and chairs. This was designed for the employees when they took their breaks to have somewhere to sit. The owners of the café were kind people, and always treated their employees like family.
He walked up the stairs, and turned the knob, entering the kitchen of the café. It was clean and well laid out, Jarrod noted, taking in three workers who were putting the dishes away. Restaurants, as he knew very well, did most of their prep work for the next day, after the establishment had closed.
He inwardly chuckled at how one of his clients, who had opened a very successful restaurant in Sacramento had explained that it was the only field to make money in that he could stay up at night. His client could not go to bed until two or three in the morning, then would sleep until almost noon.
"Excuse me; I am looking for Mrs. Flynn?" Jarrod had asked, as he walked into the kitchen area. An oriental man, a Latin woman, and a Negro all turned to look at him with surprise. They probably did not get outsiders in the kitchen.
"She is in the dining room, Senor" the Latin woman said, pointing to the swinging doors on the far wall. Jarrod smiled his thanks, and walked in that direction, pausing to investigate the room before entering. He saw Sharon setting tables, noting the happy smile on her face. It bothered him that he was going to take it away from her.
"Sharon, can I talk to you?" Jarrod walked over to the table she was at, folding a napkin. She saw him, and he watched as her eyes widened.
"Jarrod, what are you doing here? Are Sean and Tara all right?" Her voice had a panicked edge and he saw the consternation on her face. He reached out to take her hand and led her over to a chair.
"Sharon, I have some bad news" he saw down next to her and told her what had happened. The grief was painful to see, and as Sharon started to cry, he pulled her close with his arms around her. After a bit she looked up at him with sad eyes.
"What am I going to do?" Sharon said with anguish, as she crossed herself.
"Let me take you over to the house, so you can have some time with her." Jarrod offered, helping her to stand up. They went into the kitchen, where she talked to the employees before gathering her jacket. He helped her put the short, plain brown wool jacket on, noting how worn it looked at the collar and sleeves.
Jarrod was sure that being a widow with two small children, money was tight for the family. It saddened him because Sharon was one of the nicest people he knew. Jimmy had shared that her husband had left nothing for his family after his death. Jarrod had picked up, from the expression on Jimmy's face, that the man had had a low opinion of Paul Flynn. It surprised him because the man was a kinsman.
The walk over was silent, and when they arrived at the house Jarrod held the door open for her. He told her that Mother Flynn had passed while sleeping, and then let Sharon go upstairs by herself. Jarrod waited about ten minutes, and then went up to see how she was doing.
When he entered the bedroom, Sharon was kneeling by the bed, wrapping a rosary around Mother Flynn's hands. Sharon turned to look at him, and he could see that she'd been crying. Jarrod walked over slowly and put his hand on Sharon's shoulder. He helped her up and put his arms around her; Jarrod could feel the heavy ache.
"Mother Flynn was the closest thing I had to a mother. My mum passed when I was small, and I was raised by Granny Callahan and Jimmy's sister." Sharon sighed with sadness. "When I married Paul, at first I was worried about his mother living with us. In the end, other than Sean and Tara, she was the best thing to come out of my marriage." She declared and then burst into tears.
Jarrod, having heard what she had said was not sure if Sharon was crying for Mother Flynn passing, her marriage, or both. He recalled his thoughts about Paul Flynn, as he remembered Sharon's meager jacket.
An unwelcome thought came to him, from a long time ago, about Heath and Sharon. Suddenly he could see the scene in his mind at the breakfast table, as he, Victoria, and Nick all discussed Heath going down to Kilkenny Farm's to propose to Sharon. Jarrod now wondered if he had not been so hands off – in lawyer mode – could he have advocated more for the couple. Things could have been very different for Sharon – and for Heath. *
"Sean and Tara! Do they know?" He saw how sorrow changed to worry, as Sharon thought about her children. "I have to go to them! But Mother Flynn! I need to prepare her for burial!" Sharon's voice took on a frenzied quality, and Jarrod took both her hands in his.
"Sharon, take a deep breath" he intoned, before going on. "I will take you over to Elspeth's where the children are. While you are with them, I will go see the undertaker." Jarrod went on to explain at how in the city death and burials were handled by an outside party.
He knew that Sharon coming from a farming community would expect the funeral rites to be dealt with at home. Jarrod was glad to see that Sharon nodded her head with approval. It came to him that she had lived in Stockton for over three-quarters of a year and was probably familiar with the customs.
When they arrived at Elspeth's house, the woman had a pot of tea waiting; she took one look at Sharon's face and swept her into her arms. Sharon then went over and hugged Sean and Tara. Jarrod watched as Elspeth shepherded them all into the kitchen. He was feeling relived, glad to get on with the practical details of Mother Flynn's death.
"Senor Jarrod, what should I do?" Simon asked, and Jarrod realized that he had forgotten about Simon. He had to admire that the young man had realized that his friends needed family time with their mother. It came to him that he would need to take Simon with him to the undertaker.
"Simon, Mother Flynn has passed. I need to arrange for the undertaker – do you know that word?" Jarrod paused, as he thought that while Simon's English had come far, he did not think that word was familiar. The boy gave him a questioning look, so Jarrod explained, partly in English and some in Spanish. He wondered if this would bring up the memory of his parent's death and went to put his arm around Simon's shoulders.
"You are going to arrange the funeral? They are so sad" Simon announced "I remember my mama and papa's funeral. We had to parade around their caskets, while smelly smoke was all around us. The priest just went on and on, in Latin, and everyone was crying." He finished by looking at Jarrod concern.
"Funerals are sad, but they are also a way for the living to honor – and say goodbye – to the dead. It is hard because while everyone will eventually die, no one really wants to." Jarrod knelt to be at eye level with Simon. In truth he had come to love Simon, who he knew was his nephew.
He pondered, with solemnity that while not having children himself, he had come to mentor both Noah Jones and Simon. It struck him that both his brothers had fathered sons, while he had not. Jarrod looked at Simon, who he shared a special bond with, not just because the boy was his nephew. They played backgammon together, and he tutored the boy in Latin. He had come to see the boy's character and personality.
"It is getting late, so why don't you come with me? We will go to the undertaker, and then let him take over." Jarrod knew the Beckett's Funeral Parlor was more like a private house than a place of business. The brick house, with the white columned portico – big enough for the well sprung hearse to pass under, was on a side street, set back in well-manicured gardens.
Jarrod smiled ruefully, as he remembered all those years ago when the Barkley brothers had used the hearse to transport nitroglycerin. In the end the family had bought Beckett a replacement for that vehicle, and further had pledged that going forward they would always undertake the cost of a replacement vehicle.
When they arrived at the Funeral Parlor Jarrod noticed Simon taking in the building, and the entry hall. The hall was circular, and in the middle was an inlaid marquetry table that always featured a lavish floral arrangement. On either side of the hall were the reception rooms – also known as the laying out rooms.
In truth Jarrod privately thought of the décor as French Funeral Empire, and it was too bad that Napoleon had died over sixty years ago at St. Helena. He was sure that the man would have loved to have lain in state here. However, Jarrod admired Jim Beckett's business acumen in regard to his cliental.
At the back of the house was a lady's sitting room, along with a gentleman's room. The ladies sitting room featured delicate furniture, reclining couches, and never-ending tea service. The gentlemen's side was comfortable, solid furniture, crimson brocade and a lavish bar area. Further, there were onyx ash trays, as smoking was allowed.
Beckett's Funeral Parlor was the top echelon, and Jarrod knew that he handled every important funeral in Stockton. Now, he escorted Simon into the house and to the back of the building where Jim's office was located. Jarrod, as a lawyer, was quite used to arranging funerals.
"Jarrod, hello. Is everything all right with your family?" Jim looked up from his desk, a serious look on his face. He was dressed in a somber suit, as befitted his profession.
"Hello Jim, the family is fine. I am here because of a client." Jarrod reassured the man. "This is Simon Folsom – not the client – who is staying with us until his grandparents return this summer." He indicated the young boy, who bowed formally, before shaking Jim's hand.
"I am glad to meet you Simon and am also glad you are not the client." Jim smiled, before going on "I hope you enjoy your time in our city. He then turned to Jarrod and asked about the situation. Jarrod explained about the Flynn's and gave the house address.
"Jim, I am handling the family's legal matters. Please send the bill directly to my office; I don't want Mrs. Flynn to be concerned about paperwork." Jarrod knew that Beckett's fee would be high, but also that Sharon would not take charity. His plan was to present her with a heavily discounted bill, while he made up the difference.
"Absolutely, I do understand. Let me go get things ready, and then my assistant and I can go to the house." Jim detailed out, adding "Will Mrs. Flynn be there?"
"She is over at Elspeth Cavendish's right now. Why don't you go there first, and then meet your assistant at the Flynn's?" Jarrod figured that it would give Sharon the chance to discuss what arrangements she wanted to make for her mother-in-law. Jim was also very good at dealing with newly bereaved family members. The man would help Sharon with the painful decisions to be made. Jarrod to goodbye to Jim, and he and Simon walked outside.
"Senor Jarrod, I am hungry." Simon announced, and Jarrod wanted to chuckle. He was sure the boy had eaten quite a few scones at Elspeth's, but like all boys was always hungry. He took his gold engraved pocket watch out and realized that it was dinnertime in the nursery at the Big House.
Jarrod had thoroughly approved – privately to himself – of the nursery arrangements Priscilla had set up. He had seen too many marriages derail when the children arrived on the scene. Yes, children needed their parents, but if the parents were not happy the children would suffer. At this point in his life, he didn't think he would marry again, but if he did, he would follow the same routine as Nick and Priscilla.
"I think we have earned a very nice dinner out; have you been to the Cattlemen's Hotel?" Jarrod smiled with fondness at Simon, enjoying his company. The boy was smart, and always interested in what was happening.
"No I have not. Mormor and Farfar took me to the Sunnyside Café and tea at the Empire Hotel" Jarrod was familiar with the tearoom at the upscale hotel, which overlooked the river. The décor and service were several notches above the Cattlemen's Hotel, the next best hotel in the city. The Empire catered to the river trade, public figures and wealthy men who were traveling with wives and families.
"The Grill Room at the Cattlemen's Hotel serves amazing steaks. Just so you are aware the restaurant has Senor Nick's seal of approval." He exchanged a conspiratorial wink with Simon who laughed out loud. Everyone at the ranch knew Nick's preferences on food; Jarrod was glad to see Simon laughing and not looking serious.
"After dinner we will order the bread pudding" he stopped and explained to Simon what that meant. "They use cinnamon bread, soak it in rum, and serve it with caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream." The boy's eyes widened, as he took in what Jarrod was saying. For good measure he translated it into Spanish and saw a wide grin come across Simon's face.
It would be good to have dinner with Simon, letting him experience eating in a restaurant. The boy's manners were polished already, undoubtedly because of his European parents. Jarrod had understood, when Olaf was talking about his new position, exactly what Simon's future life was going to entail.
"Thank you, Senor Jarrod," he explained, hugging the man closely. "I was so excited to go home with Sean, and then when Mother Flynn – it was so sad." Simon crossed himself as he made the statement. It came to Jarrod that the boy should probably be going to Mass on Sunday.
However, he, along with Thomas Henry and Alden, all said prayers with Nick and Priscilla on Sunday morning. Jarrod knew that while the Stockton Church did have a Sunday school for young children, his brother's children were too young. The minimum age was six, which Simon did qualify for, but not his cousins.
Putting aside the picture of Nick being religious, he wondered if he should be taking Simon to Mass. Between the history of California and Letizia he was familar with the rituals of the Church. Jarrod then reminded himself that Simon's grandparents were Swedish – Lutheran – and they had gone to church with the Barkley's while they were in town.
Jarrod decided not to worry about the religious issue, knowing that it really wasn't any of his concern. His parents were not of the same religion, and he had no idea what the boy's experience had been in Mexico.
"We are going to have an amazing dinner, and when we get back to the ranch you must tell Senor Nick and Thomas Henry all about it." Jarrod smiled knowingly and Simon laughed again. He put his arm around the boy's shoulder and proudly escorted him over to the Cattlemen's.
*The scene I reference takes place in "Sonoran Autumn" Chapter One.
