The Birthday Lunch by Joan Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

private joke between them,
Lilies for Lily
, written on the card, ordered by telephone as soon as he reaches the office. But not today because as soon as he got to work this morning he was caught up in a protracted conference call that ended when his assistant told him that his wife was waiting for him in his office.
    But that is not the worst regret. The worst regret is that Lily never saw her grandson. Dougie is almost two years old and his grandmother never saw him and now it is too late. Matt could have sent his parents airplane tickets. He remembers thinking about it but then a new wrinkle at work would intervene. As chief counsel of Lingard Construction, Matt regularly flies to Vancouver, Edmonton, Winnipeg, Denver, Spokane. Weeks, months go by when Matt sees Trish and the kids only on weekends. A demanding job that allows him five days in Sussex to bury his mother. Another regret to add to the pile.
    Claudia lugs her suitcase to the top of the stairs. She hears a strange voice calling, “In here!” Following the voice to the living room she sees her father and her aunt sitting at opposite ends of the sofa like strangers forced to share the same rescue boat. Claudia has become a stranger herself: it is as if she has never seen her grandmother’s rosewood desk, the walnutbookcase, the silent long-case clocks in opposite corners, the empty patchwork rocker, her mother’s crossword puzzle book tucked between cushion and arm.
    At the sight of his daughter, Hal begins to weep. “At last,” he says. “You’re here.”
    “Yes, Dad, I’m here.” Claudia sits beside him on the sofa.
    “I knew you would come,” Hal says.
    “Dad, oh Dad,” she says and locking her arms around him, she rocks him back and forth while the mantelpiece clock ticks relentlessly on. Claudia forgets her aunt is beside her until she hears Laverne announce, “Seven o’clock.” Claudia glances at her aunt sitting inches away, hands folded in her lap. Laverne does not return the glance and continues staring across the room. Following her stare, Claudia sees a pinkish blond-haired woman in a yellow sundress sitting opposite, her thighs spilling over the sides of the straightback chair. Now that Claudia has noticed her, the woman says, “I’m Corrie Spears, a friend of your father’s. I brought them home.”
    “Them.”
    “Yes. Hal and Miss Pritchard.”
    “Brought them from where?”
    “Main Street, in front of the Creamery, where your mother was killed.”
    Killed. My mother was killed
. Claudia knows that being killed is different from dying but she cannot work out in what way it is different. Later, when she can concentrate, she will try to work out it out. But not now, because now she must comfort her father and her aunt.
    Laverne does not want Claudia’s comfort, what she wantsis the comfort of being alone. Turning to her niece, she says, “Now that you are here, Claudia, I will go downstairs.”
    “So soon, Auntie? I just got here.”
    “Claudia, I’ve been sitting here a long time.”
    “But you’ll be alone downstairs, Auntie. Why not stay upstairs with us?”
    “I’m tired, Claudia, and I want to go to bed.”
    “But you can go to bed in one of the spare rooms.”
    “I prefer my own bed.”
    Finally Claudia accepts the decision. She knows that once her aunt has made up her mind, she is not easily persuaded to change it. Claudia watches Laverne move like a sleepwalker through the dining room and kitchen and disappear behind the back-stairs door.
    Downstairs Laverne wanders from room to room, barely recognizing the kitchen chair, the portrait of the burgomeister, the amber casement window, the checkerboard floors, the overhead beams, all of which were put in place with enthusiasm, effort and expense. But now that Lily is dead, the enthusiasm, effort and expense no longer matter.
    Laverne was dozing in the Volkswagen, waiting for her sister to return with the ice cream when she was wakened by a blaring truck horn and