Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game (10 page)

The night wore on, and the crowd started to thin. I
was going to be at the funeral home for the long haul since I’d
agreed to help “sit up” with Jake’s urn. It was Jake’s grandparents
who had given us the idea of “sitting up” with Jake. They were
practically mountain people who lived way out in the boondocks up
in North Georgia. I’d gone to their farm once with Jake. The
further we drove along the backwoods roads, the more uncomfortable
I got. I was on edge the entire weekend straining to hear banjo
chords and waiting for some toothless hillbillies to come ass rape
me like in that movie
Deliverance
.

Anyway, Jake’s grandparents said there was a
tradition back in the day where family and friends sat up all night
when somebody died. I guess it made more sense when there weren’t
funeral homes, and you would have felt kinda funny turning off the
lights and leaving a dead body in the living room.

Jake’s brothers were all for “sitting up”, so the
rest of us decided it sounded like a good idea and a good send
off.

It was around eleven when Jake’s parents gathered up
their things to head home. Jason turned to me. “Hey man, Jonathan
and I are gonna walk Mom and Dad out, but we’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” I said.

Jake’s parents had barely gotten out the front door
when the shit hit the fan. It was at that moment that Avery and
Presley decided the icy stares and pissed body language wasn’t
cutting it anymore. They were finally going to duke it out over who
was going to be Jake’s ‘unofficial widow”’.

Surprisingly, Avery made the first move. “I just
don’t know what you’re doing staying here, Presley, unless it’s to
service Jason and Jonathan during the night or some of the other
guys here!”

Presley smirked at Avery. “At least I’m in touch with
my sexuality, and I could give Jake what he needed.”

Avery jerked her chin up. “Yeah, Jake, half the
school, and even some of the faculty!” she spat.

“You bitch! You know that rumor about me and Senor
Martinez is a lie!”

“Then why did he transfer schools?”

“Because that skanky ho Amanda Montrose gave him a
blow job on Cinco De Mayo last year.”

A shriek went up in the middle of the crowd. Amanda
grabbed up her purse and stalked past Avery and Presley in a
huff.

“Whatever,” Avery grumbled.

Presley stepped forward to stand toe to toe with
Avery. “Let’s get this straight once and for all.
I
loved
Jake, and
he
loved me. He only dated you for
appearances.”

“No, Jake loved
me
.”

“Oh yeah, then why didn’t he go to prom with
you?”

“Because I was already going with Caleb Evans.”

“No, it’s because Jake didn’t ask you. He asked
me!”

“Yeah, so he’d be guaranteed to be screwed.”

Their voices were getting louder. Some of the others
looked at me, urging me to be referee for the fight. I sighed.
“Avery, Presley, listen. Fighting like this isn’t gonna solve shit.
You’re both tired and overemotional right now. The whole school
knows that Jake cared for both of you, so it’s really useless to
argue about it,” I said, trying to step between them.

Presley knocked me out of the way right before Avery
slapped her. Everyone, including Presley, stood motionless, in
shock. It seemed Avery’s grief had completely dethawed her usual
Ice Princess demeanor.

Suddenly, Presley grabbed Jake’s urn and pressed it
against her ample cleavage. “He was mine!”

“No, he was mine!” Avery countered, grasping at the
urn. The two pushed and shoved back and forth. Suddenly, the urn
went flying through the air.

It smashed against carpet. “Jesus Christ!” I
yelled.

Jake, or what was left of Jake, lay scattered along
the carpet.

Mr. Whitfield rushed into the room. “What in the hell
is going on in here?” he demanded.

Everyone refused to answer him. His eyes widened in
horror. “My God, don’t you kids have any respect for the dead?” he
questioned. None of us said anything. “All right, everybody out!
Now!” he growled.

Presley and Avery hung their heads in shame as they
scurried from the room. I could imagine this was going to be quite
the gossip tomorrow at the funeral. Of course, only Jake could
manage not only to blow himself up, but also have a catfight over
his remains.

Jonathan and Jason met me at the door. “Dude, what
the hell happened?” Jason questioned.

“A bitchfight,” I mumbled.

“Huh?” Jonathan asked.

“Presley and Avery were fighting over Jake, and
somehow his urn was—broken.”

They both glanced past me to where their brother’s
ashes colored the floor. “Damn,” Jonathan murmured his eyes
widening in shock.

“Yeah, Mr. Whitfield isn’t too thrilled with us, so
I’m not sure how well we’re gonna be able to ‘sit-up’ with Jake
tonight,” I replied.

Jason shook his head. “Well, everybody’s pretty
exhausted and overwrought, so it’s probably good it got canceled.”
He shuddered as he looked at Jake’s ashes. “Well, maybe not because
of that.”

I exhaled a defeated breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see
you guys tomorrow.”

As I strode across the parking lot, I shook my head.
God, could this day get any worse? Not to mention I still had to
make it through the funeral in the morning. I fought my gag reflex
at the very thought.

When I got home, the house was dark. I knew Mom had
delivered two babies the night before, so she’d probably crashed
early. I eased open the door in from the garage, trying to be as
quiet as I could, so I wouldn’t wake her up.

Suddenly, I heard music. Mood music. I noticed
candlelight flickering in the living room.

I skidded to a stop in the living room doorway. “Holy
shit!” I cried.

There on the couch in all their naked glory was my
mom and Greg. I turned around and tried to flee, but instead, I ran
face first into the antique armoire. “Fuck!” I cried.

“Noah!” my mother screamed. With my back turned, I
heard her scurry to grab the throw off the back of the couch to
cover up.

At the sound of a thump, I figured Greg had fallen
off the couch. I heard him furiously throwing on his pants. As soon
as I heard a zipper, I whirled around.

“Mom, what in the hell are you doing?” I demanded,
even though I was fully aware of what she was doing.

“I-I thought you were going to be s-siting up with
Jake tonight, and it was one of the few night Greg and I were both
off,” she stammered. Even through the dim light, I could see her
face was flushed with embarrassment.

“Yeah, well, sitting up turned into a fiasco, and I
decided to come home.”

I glanced over at Greg who refused to meet my gaze. I
snorted. “Sorry to have interrupted. I’m going upstairs to bed now,
and I promise I won’t be coming back downstairs until hell freezes
over!”

Without another word from my mother or Greg, I
whirled around and stormed up the stairs. I rushed into my room and
slammed the door. Slowly, I slid down the frame and into the
floor.

I fell asleep on the floor in my clothes.

***

The next morning I woke up to a gentle
rapping at my door. “Noah, it’s eight o’clock. If you’re not up,
you better get a move on, sweetie,” Mom’s muffled voice urged.

I opened my eyes, and then I immediately snapped them
shut. I couldn’t believe today was my best friend’s funeral. If
that wasn’t bad enough, my mind raced with the prospect of having
to sing. I covered my eyes with my arm and let the emotions wash
over me.

The events of the previous night played over and over
in my mind. I couldn’t forget the image of Jake’s urn smashed on
the funeral home floor. Nor could I forget the image of Mom and
Greg getting busy on our couch. Damn, I loved that couch, too. Now
I’d never be able to sit on it again.

No son should ever have to imagine his mother having
sex least of all see it. Yeah, I know she’s only thirty-five, and
she has needs and all, but seriously. I didn’t know how I was going
to look at her in the same way. I mean, all my life it’s just been
the two of us against the world. I had the sneaky suspicion that
Greg was hell-bent on wedging his ass into our family—our little
alliance against the world.

I slowly rolled into a sitting position and sniffed
the air appreciatively. Something smelled good downstairs. My
stomach growled. I decided to wait on my shower until after I got
something to eat.

When I got into the kitchen, there was quite a spread
of food on the table. It wasn’t surprising that Mom had made my
favorite breakfast of French toast. I peered around the kitchen for
Greg, but I didn’t see him.

I caught her gaze and raised my eyebrows. The moment
I did, pain shot through my forehead. “Ow!”

Mom hurried over to me. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” She
reached out to touch my eyebrow, but I flinched away from her. Her
face fell.

I realized right then I could continue acting like a
prick because of what I’d seen last night, or I could be a little
more adult about it and move on. Deep down, I knew today was gonna
be a bitch, and I’d need her—you know to get through it.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“You’ve gotta cut place above your eyebrow.” The
moment the words left her lips, she blushed. I knew she realized
how I’d gotten the cut. It’d come from running into the armoire to
escape the sexcapade in the living room.

“Yeah, well, why don’t you fix it, Dr. Sullivan?” I
said, trying to change the subject.

She smiled weakly and nodded. Then she hurried into
the pantry for her medical kit. When she came back, she motioned
for me to have a seat. I eased down in one of the kitchen chairs
she got to work. Suddenly, I was laughing.

Mom jerked her hand away and gave me an odd look.
“What’s so funny?”

“Remember all the times Jake got “hurt” while he was
over here? I swear, there wasn’t a time he didn’t come over to play
when we were little that he didn’t end up with some wimpy little
cut or scrape that he needed
you
to ‘make better’.”

Mom laughed. “Oh gosh, I’d forgotten all about that.
As soon as he was old enough to realize I was in medical school, he
was all about my healing.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it was your healing he was
interested in,” I muttered.

“Noah!” Mom exclaimed, her face flushing again.

“Oh come on Mom, you know he had a huge crush on you.
I swear, Jake must’ve come out of the womb a little hornball!”

Mom shook her head. “Well, I don’t know about that. I
just used to think he needed a little extra attention, you know?
Being the youngest boy with two very demanding older brothers. And
Mr. Nelson certainly isn’t the most caring individual-”

“The man’s an asshole.”

“Language, Noah,” Mom warned.

I snorted. “You know it’s true.”

Mom grinned. “Yes, it’s true, but I don’t want you
talking like that.” When Mom touched the alcohol to my cut, I
jumped. “Sorry sweetie.”

“It’s okay. Just stings a little.” I would dare admit
that it hurt like a bitch. Once Mom finished doctoring my eye, I
fixed a heaping plate of French toast, bacon, and eggs.

With a pained expression on her face, Mom sat down
next to me. “I’m so, so sorry I won’t be able to be with you at the
funeral today, sweetie. I tried everything to get out of this
C-Section, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” I mumbled, through a mouthful of
food.

“Grammy will be there, and so will Uncle Mark and
Aunt Eva,” she informed me.

All through my childhood, Grammy had been the
‘stand-in’ when mom couldn’t make it to things. But there were few
times that I didn’t remember my mom being there. I don’t know how
in the hell she did it, but she did.

“It’s okay, Mom. I mean, you spent all of yesterday
at the funeral home with the Nelson’s. I’m sure they understand,
just like I do.”