Day 102 - Too Late Now

 Too Late Now 

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Diana leaned her head against Jeremy’s chest and closed her eyes. Jeremy tried to press his body back and lean closer to her. He wasn’t in a good position to put his arm around her, but he wanted to try and make a pocket for her to lean against. Falling asleep sitting on a bar stool was not a good idea, but Jeremy was pretty sure he could support her weight from his current position. He told her to make sure she stayed against him and didn’t try to move. She nodded and mumbled something, but was nearly out of it already. Jeremy looked around the room trying to find Mack, her boyfriend. He was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps outside having a smoke. Diana was pressed against Jeremy and he would have to move her to access his cellphone. He sighed and resigned himself to sitting still for a while. Jeremy signaled the barman for another beer.

There was a dozen, maybe twenty, people there. Not a bad turnout, thought Jeremy. He didn’t know what a good turnout would be. Short notice. Week night. Not too many people could be found for a wake in such short time. Kristen would have been satisfied, he thought. Not that he’d ever talked to her about her funeral desires or afterlife plans. But he thought he knew her well enough to know she’d care about close friends and wouldn’t worry if acquaintances and long-distance relationships couldn’t make it. But maybe that was just something he told himself to try and make himself feel better.

They handed out programs at the funeral home and they misspelled her last name. Tskalotos instead of Tsakalotos. Kristen probably would have laughed. She had gotten it all her life and probably seen her name butchered a million different ways. Still, it sucked. You pay for a job, the family is mourning, you expect it to be done right. Fucking betrayal. Fucking incompetent and disrespectful. Jeremy pocketed additional copies despite it all. One last thing to remember her by.

Kirsten probably would have laughed at the fact that they were all sitting in a bar for her. She certainly had kicked back enough alcohol in her day. Too much. Too much of a lot of things. She tortured her body for reasons no one was quite sure of. Young and dumb turned into middle aged and dumb. But none of that meant much once she caught cancer. You worry about a person driving drunk, you worry about their liver, or them turning their mind into mush, but you don’t think about their colon. Why would you?

What an awful end it is for so many lovely people.

Diana shifted and Jeremy almost let her slide down his chest, but caught her in time. He propped her head back up and looked around the bar again. Still no Mack.

Rick had a painting at his house, and one night in passing told Jeremy that Kristen painted it. Jeremy was shocked. He had no idea. People keep so many secrets from those around them. He wondered now how many paintings there were in her house, stored in the garage, up in an attic. Paintings no one had ever seen. And never would now. He wondered how many of the other people here knew that she painted. The obits would say nice things, the people here would give nice speeches, but each and every one of them would really remember her by her troubles and probably none of them would know what she could have become if not for those demons.

Jeremy looked around again. He wanted Diana to wake up. He wanted Mack to take care of his girlfriend. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He didn’t want another drink and he didn’t want to give any speeches. He had lost a friend, someone special, that he barely had time to get to know, but now would have to wonder forever just what he missed out on. It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. It was all too fast and she was gone too soon. There was that night they almost kissed and then the one time they did and he’d have to remember that and try to forget about all the rest. He could have been nicer to her. He could have spent more time with her. He just wanted more time. Just a minute more. A lunch, or dinner, or a smile or a joke. Anything. Just not an extra shitty memory. He had too many of those. That was punishment enough.