A Family Affair(2)

A firm hand pressed down on her shoulder and she turned to look up into the dark eyes of Joe, her friend for over thirty years. Chad’s friend first, then their friend, then couple friends, until Joe and Arlene divorced. Never just her friend, though she’d always loved him as much as Chad had. He was a great guy. She hugged him, holding on extra long. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” she said, longing to talk with him for an hour or six. “This is more grueling than it looks. Emotionally taxing.”

“I can imagine.”

Just then all of her children surrounded them. Joe hugged Jessie, who, at thirty-one, was a beautiful woman; then twenty-eight-year-old Mike, who was the image of his handsome father. Joe then turned to lovely Bess, short for Elizabeth, the baby at twenty-four. He didn’t hug Bess because she didn’t like being touched without warning. After a moment passed, Bess opened her arms to him and everyone nearby visibly relaxed.

There was a little small talk—sorry for your loss, call on me for anything, if there’s any way I can help, if there’s anything you need—all that sort of thing. For Joe these were not empty offers. Anna knew he would deliver if needed.

Chad had been widely loved and why not? He was great fun, smart, funny, had a tongue smooth as silk and always knew the right thing to say. Anna was equally well loved and respected. As a couple they were popular and often envied—they were attractive, successful, entertaining and stable. In fact, if their circle of friends had any idea what shit they’d been going through lately, they’d be shocked. But they were careful to keep their issues to themselves.

Joe was one of the few men who was on par with Chad personality wise, equally successful. He was a devoted friend. Chad had gone to high school with Joe; they’d played ball together and stayed friends through college, though their paths had diverged. Chad taught and then got his master’s in counseling followed by a PhD; Joe got his PhD and taught history and some theology at Stanford. The men only saw each other a few times a year but both always said it was as if no time had passed. They could still laugh like boys. Anna saw Joe less often than Chad did but with her the feeling was the same.

The celebration of life was not held in a funeral parlor or church but rather in a fancy clubhouse in an upscale Mill Valley community. It was furnished with comfortable sofas, chairs, small round accent tables, thick carpet and carefully chosen art. Its primary purpose was for hosting parties. Residents in the community could rent it for events, which Anna had done. There was a huge viewing screen upon which the pictures of Chad’s life played, a hundred and fifty of them, carefully and lovingly chosen by Anna with a little help from the kids. Every picture had Chad in it, starting from old childhood prints she’d inherited from Chad’s mother years ago. She’d glance up to see one of him in a high school football uniform looking the worse for wear with a big grin on his dirty face; she caught a huge blowup of their wedding picture; there was one soon after of him with baby Jessie asleep on his chest. There were many pictures of Chad alone, a few of Chad and Anna, one of a young Anna gazing lovingly up into Chad’s face, several family groupings. The focus was Chad, his life, his accomplishments, his achievements, his happiness, a few of the important people in his life. Chad, Chad, Chad. Just like before he died.

Things had been tense lately, but she remembered those younger years fondly because, although it hadn’t been easy, they had been deeply in love. They met through what can only be described as fate, as destiny. In fact, their meeting was a legendary family story. Anna had been in San Francisco, shopping on her lunch hour down at Fisherman’s Wharf. Shopping but not buying, which was typical for her as she had been and still was very frugal. She loved the sea lions, enjoyed watching tourists, sometimes found bargains at Pier 1, enjoyed the occasional meal on the pier.

On that day, something strange happened. She heard a panicked cry rise from the crowd of tourists on the pier, saw a food truck trundling across the pier without a driver, picking up speed. A man in work clothes and an apron was chasing the truck. She only had seconds to take it in. It seemed the food truck, its awning out and moving fast, was headed toward a group of people. Right before her eyes the truck knocked a man off the pier before the truck was stopped by a barricade. The man, completely unaware, flew off the dock and into the water below, startling a large number of fat sea lions who had been sunning themselves nearby.

The sea lions scrambled into the water and the man was flailing around in a panic. Someone yelled, “He can’t swim!” Hardly giving it a thought, Anna dropped her purse, kicked off her shoes and jumped off the pier, swimming to the man. Getting to him was no challenge; she practically landed on top of him. But he was hysterical and splashing, kicking and sputtering. “You’re okay, come on,” she said, grabbing his shirt by the collar. But he fought harder and sank, nearly pulling her under with him.

She slapped him in the face and that startled him enough he could let himself be rescued. She slid her arm around his neck and began pulling him to the dock where a couple of men seemed to be standing by to pull him in.

There was a lot of commotion, not to mention honking noises from sea lions. Anna was shivering in her wet clothes and all she could think at the time was how was she going to locate a change of clothes for her afternoon at work. Then there were emergency vehicles and a handsome young police officer draped a blanket around her shoulders and took a report. The near drowning victim was taken away in an ambulance and Anna was given a ride to her apartment by the cute policeman. She was delighted and surprised when the police officer called her a week later. She almost hyperventilated in hope that he’d ask her out.