“Why doesn’t Pop-Pop ask about us?” Courtney had asked. Her young narcissistic brain had correctly noted Jerry Stark’s interest in Emily and her offspring and his lack of concern for Libbie and her kids during such a difficult time.
Welcome to my world, she’d thought. To her daughter, she’d said, “I’m sure he does the same to Emily. Calls her and worries about us.” Even as she said the words, she knew they were untrue. Her parents had doted on Emily from the moment she was born, relegating Libbie to a footnote in the story of their lives. No matter how well Libbie performed at school or in athletics, it was never enough to hold her parents’ attention. Emily simply shone so brightly that Libbie became nothing more than a shadow. A silhouetted branch on the family tree. As aware as she was, it didn’t stop her from trying, even now. It had become part of her identity, like her blue eyes and freckles.
As Libbie toweled off and dressed, her thoughts turned to Inga’s funeral. The older woman had no family left to speak of, no children or close relatives. Kate was handling the funeral arrangements. Her best friend was invaluable in a crisis, which was ideal for Libbie because her anxiety tended to cause her to freeze up or shut down in difficult situations.
She dressed for work and hurried downstairs for a quick cup of coffee before she braved the Saturday traffic. She looked forward to Tuesday when things would calm slightly, although the summer months always brought more of everything.
More traffic, more people, but also more money.
At Basecamp, the lunch crowd was as busy as she’d anticipated, and Libbie worked herself into a frenzy. Truth be told, she was grateful for the distraction. She only had a single fleeting image of Inga’s lifeless face when she was stirring the gravy for the turkey medallions.
By the end of her shift, Libbie’s feet and back hurt and she was ready to flop into bed and succumb to emotional exhaustion. The last thing she felt like doing was enduring an evening with her parents, but it was her sister’s birthday, and Libbie loved Emily.
Just as she was ready to slip out the back door, Joe intercepted her. “I’m going to need you to cover for Maria on Tuesday.”
Libbie faltered. “I’m sorry, Joe. I can’t. That’s the day of my friend’s service.”
Joe hesitated, and Libbie thought he was finally going to offer some sort of condolence, which he’d failed to do when she’d first told him the news. Instead he said, “So you were really next to her when she died?”
Libbie’s stomach tightened at the memory. “Yes.”
“I’ve never been there when somebody’s died.”
Libbie stared at him. “I don’t recommend it.”
Joe dragged a hand through his curly hair. “Well, I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you can’t sub for Maria.”
Libbie’s jaw tensed. If he gave her a hard time, she didn’t know what she’d do. “What’s going on with Maria?”
“She’s got an appointment with the plastic surgeon about her new…” He cupped his chest. “It takes months to get an appointment with this guy. That’s how good he is.”
Libbie cleared her throat, unsure what to say. It wasn’t as though Maria was having reconstructive surgery. Apparently, her fiancé had offered to pay for a larger cup size, and Maria decided to take him up on it. “I don’t know what to tell you, Joe. It’s a funeral service, not a dinner reservation.”
His expression registered surprise, and Libbie understood why. Usually she was accommodating, but this was her dear friend Inga’s funeral. She couldn’t reschedule it, and she had to be there.
“What time’s the funeral? How about you come in late or leave early, depending on the timing?”
Libbie’s mouth dropped open. Instead of kicking him in the balls the way she wanted to, she heard herself say, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Her hands shook as she got into her car and drove home.
Libbie’s parents lived in a modest lakefront home that they’d purchased after her father’s retirement. Libbie exited the car, the familiar tight ball of anxiety forming in the pit of her stomach. It was always this way when she was about to interact with her parents. The air was warm, and the scent of grass permeated the air thanks to an early afternoon rain shower.
“I bet she loves her present,” Courtney said. She’d insisted on wrapping the gift in paper that she’d decorated herself with drawings of butterflies. She’d used brightly colored markers laced with glitter so that the images shimmered on the paper.
“I think she’ll love the paper more.”
Courtney beamed in response, and Libbie was relieved that her daughter didn’t downplay her talent. Not today at least.
Delia Stark opened the door with a flourish. She wore a red and white top paired with a blue skirt in honor of the holiday. Libbie noticed that her earrings were little American flags with encrusted diamonds.
“We’re here,” Libbie said with forced cheer.
Libbie’s mother inspected her from head to toe. “You should’ve gone home to shower after work. We would’ve waited for you.”
“It’s fine,” Libbie said. Never mind that she had showered and taken great pains with her hair and makeup, knowing she’d have to endure her mother’s scrutiny.
“Where’s Chris?” she asked, making a show of peering behind Libbie, as though Libbie was actually wide enough to block her mother’s view of him.
“He has a friend visiting from out of town for the holiday,” Libbie mumbled. She was a terrible liar.
As they stepped inside, Emily rushed forward to embrace her sister. “I am so sorry about Inga. What a terrible loss.”
Libbie sank against her sister, grateful to have someone who understood her connection to the older woman. “Thank you.”
“Oh, yes,” her mother said. “The German woman. I heard the dreadful news.”
Libbie bit her tongue. Inga had lived in America since she was a child. She didn’t even think of herself as German.
“Why don’t you come to the patio?” her mother suggested. “I’m sure these kids are starving. Look at Josh. He’s made of skin and bones.”
“It’s called a growth spurt, Mom,” Emily said. “My kids are the same.”
Her mother peered at Josh, who was now taller than her. “I don’t know. His pallor is a bit green. Has he been for a physical this year?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I’m a lifeguard, Grandma,” Josh said. “I had to be cleared.”
“Oh, right. You’re both working this summer, aren’t you?” She turned and walked through the dining room and diagonally through the family room to reach the back door. “Pop-Pop is manning the grill, of course. He’ll be happy to relinquish it now that you’re here, Elizabeth. You know how he hates the heat.”
The last thing Libbie felt like doing after work was standing outside in front of a hot grill, but she smiled and said, “I’ll be right there. Let me just say hi to everyone.”
‘Everyone’ consisted of Emily’s husband and their two sons, Sam and Ryan. She liked her brother-in-law well enough, but they weren’t particularly close.