Free at last – Chap 2
The funeral happened a week after their death. Patrick arranged everything. The mass and the reception. He prohibited everyone to come back at the house. A habit they have in their culture. To visit the mourning’s at their house, offering additional condolences. Making jokes, trying to change the aura of what already exists. He banned people to talk to Rose and Christine at the funeral. But of course, not everyone respected that. Some just slipped in and hugged them. Betty was always besides them, so she cut the conversation short and thanked them for their support during this difficult time. Some found it strange. But she didn’t care.
As of Vincent, he arrived two days after the incident. He stayed with Patrick while Betty stayed with Rose and Christine. Vincent’s wife and children wanted to be there for Rose and Christine as well but couldn’t. The children were going to school, so the only option was to stay home. And when he could, he called them. A form of being present at a distance. And when some of the guests who didn’t get the memo left, he would call back so his children could talk to Rose and Christine. They joked and laughed, and it was so good to see them smile, somehow forgetting for a moment what happened to them. Unfortunately, the more his days passed, the more he wondered how it will all be for them. He took two weeks off work and a week had already gone by. On a Sunday, the day after the funeral, Patrick, Betty and Vincent woke Rose and Christine at noon and brought them to eat brunch at their favorite place which helped to waken their smiles once again. After, they went to see a movie, a request from Christine and before they realized, it was already dark outside. The mood that arose with time spent outside, melted away as they got closer to their house. By the time, everyone was in the house, nobody spoke to anyone. Rose and Christine retrieved in their room and the three adults stayed in the living room with little to say each other.
On a Monday, Patrick woke up early to go to work and didn’t bother waking up anyone else. Arrived in his office, his phone rang and so was his heart. After the last phone call, he hated to hear his phone ringing. Another bad news, and anyone looking for him will reach him on his landline. An unknown caller. But since those were usually scammers, he ignored it. “If you know who you are calling, leave a voicemail” He whispered. And today, the unknown caller left a voicemail right after he decided to not pick up. Patrick punched in his password and put the phone in loudspeaker. “Good morning Mr Patrick. My name is Sebastien Lavreu. I would like to have a minute to speak with you about the will if possible.” He left the number where he can be reached at. And without wasting a minute, Patrick wrote it down and called him right away. He was confused about what he just said. The will? of who exactly? Not that they were broke. But they didn’t have much that will make them write a will. He thought how Betty and himself haven’t even thought about that. Maybe because they don’t have children. In his chair, he seemed uneasy. Left leg fidgeting, grinning his teeth. “Yes”. Mr Lavreu picked up at the first ring. “You just called. Saying something about the will” Patrick got straight to the point. “Yes. It’s important that you know what’s in their will regarding their current situation”. Their current situation being gone. Patrick understood. He was no child to not be able to decipher his indirect message. “What do you mean. A will?” […]Speechless, he looked around his office. Kind of looking for words to say. “Okay. When and where do you want to meet?” The lawyer gave him his office address and asked to come ten minutes earlier.
For a whole day, Patrick could not focus. Going back and forth to the washroom. Staring at himself in the mirror wondering who the person is seeing is. […] From the day he heard the news, he was running left and right trying to organize the funeral. Make sure everything is well set so their last rite to the other side is as honorable as it can be. Seating in his chair, he started to sweat. His heart beat so fast, he could barely hold a pen. Such feelings, he never experienced it before. And it was strange for him. His hands were suddenly cold, and he thought he was having a panic attack. He checked his watch on his right wrist, and it was still 11am. Too early to go home. Patrick was an HR director of an investment firm and taking time off every time he didn’t feel well was not an option. He had people who reported to him. People who couldn’t continue their jobs until he made a decision on certain things. In fact, when he took three days off after the incident, a monthly newspaper of the firm was not published. Because he has the final decision, his team was unable to reach him and decided to not print the journal. Now, taking a day off was out of the question. For the third time, he marched to the men’s restroom and locked himself behind one of the stalls. He sat on the toilet and felt a gulp chocking in his throat. For the first time, he freed himself from maintaining it. And at last, a steam of tears run down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop it although he wanted to. He was known as the strongest one. One who showed no emotion about whatsoever. Happy or sad. He had the same face. But now, he was vulnerable. Alone, grieving, wishing to have talked to […], wishing a lot of things, but most importantly wondering how he was going to raise children in the meantime. He had wanted one with Betty. Unfortunately, God hasn’t blessed with them yet. And the terror of remorse aggravated the living out of him. He kept on flushing pieces of the paper he used to blow his nose. And after a while, he blew the last one and squeezed his fist. Up he leapt like a grown man he wanted to be. Out the stall, and in front of a mirror, he noticed veins on both side of his temples and eyes reddened by the amount of flow he just shed.
Looking down, he notices wet patches on his pants and shook his head. Surprised to have wet his pants with his own tears. He breathed in and out, a routine of what he usually does when he is stressed, and there he started to breath normal again. He remembered the fact that he is still a man who keeps his promises. […] Patrick dropped his shoulders and muttered at the back of the door ready. He swallowed the rest of his tears and wiped his eyes with a wet tissue. Coming out from the bathroom, you couldn’t guess the director of a team of 20 people was having a meltdown in the restroom. Instead, with a smile on his face each time he crossed an employee, you would think that today must be his happy day.
Back in his office, he found another missed call. His wife Betty. Immediately, he called her. “Did you hear about to the lawyer.” Not again, he thought. He must have called her after leaving him a voicemail. “Yes” “What does he want?” Betty was curious as he was. “I don’t know. We are meeting tomorrow during my lunch hour” Patrick said that, and Betty knew why that time. Well, it was the only time he was free. […] Patrick told Betty that the lawyer asked him to bring a witness and Betty suggested Vincent since he was in town. He was due to leave in three days and that stressed Patrick too. He finally had someone to share old memories with, someone to hold him down. But now, it was a matter of time, he went back to his life too. “I mean they didn’t have a lot.” Betty said and Patrick agreed. “Keep me updated” She hung up and Patrick gained his strength back. Hearing his wife’s voice was something that always pumped back his energy. And he loved it. […]
