Free Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 01 - Wild Nights by Mary Ellen Courtney

the picture of propriety, was wearing the tightest jeans I had ever seen on just about anyone, ever. She must have had to lie on the floor to zip them up. She had on a sweater set in pale green; the shell was so Marilyn Monroe tight, I could see jiggling mounds of breast escaping the top of a new push-up bra. Interesting, she was always a stickler for not having obvious underwear. To finish it off she was wearing what can only be described as fuck me pumps. The only familiar notes were her trademark pearls and what Karin calls her rich bitch bob. She looked great.
    “Whoa,” said Anna.
    “Whoosh,” I said.
    “Hi girls!” Mom jiggled our way.
    Arthur was central casting handsome. He was tall, trim, had silver hair to match his car and a golf course tan that really set off his straight white teeth. His sweater was cashmere, his shoes good leather, his fingernails buffed. Huh. Maybe she would stay sober. I know at least half of me would.
    “Why are you standing outside?” asked Mom.
    “Eric is making some arrangements,” said Anna. “So we’re enjoying the sun.”
    “It’s a gorgeous day,” said Mom. She remembered her manners and introduced us.
    “Great to meet you both,” said Arthur. “Jackie has told me a lot about you.”
    Eric came out of the office with the funeral director quick stepping behind. He introduced himself to Arthur and took in Mother’s new look with nary a blink.
    “We’re running a little late,” he said. “Grandmother’s hearse broke down so we’ve arranged a truck to pick her up. We’ll only be about an hour late.”
    “A truck?” asked Mom. “Like a delivery van?”
    My mother was no dumb bunny and the jeans weren’t squeezing that part of her brain. She knew dissembling when she heard it.
    “No,” Eric said. “A truck truck as far as I know. Hannah, you want to jump in here?”
    “It’s a John Deere,” I said. My mother blinked. “It’s green with a leaping yellow stag.”
    “Oh, that’s a great truck,” said Arthur. “A classic American company.”
    Mother looked at him like he was speaking in tongues.
    “A friend is bringing her,” I said. “His name is Stroud, or Alan.”
    “He has two names?” asked Mom.
    Eric put his arm around her shoulder, “Come inside, Mom, I want you to see the headstone.”
    A white Mercedes pulled in with Ted at the wheel. It was a duplicate of Binky’s car, total lack of imagination. Besides Amber they have two Sams, Samuel and Samantha. We call them both Sam; like a bad TV show. Binky was dressed far more appropriately than Mom, in a trim suit, pearls, and low fat heels. Ted, like Eric, was in a coat, tie and man loafers. Binky was cool while Ted made the introductions. She was beginning to remind me of Aunt Asp, always a bit turned sideways, always a little closed. She used to dance around like Debbie Gibson and sing “Shake Your Love.”
    Arthur said to Binky, ”Your mother’s inside.”
    She gave him a look that said she thought he was worming his way into the family a little too quickly. Wait until she got a load of Mom. She went into the office. We had started to tell Ted about the snafu when Binky stuck her head out the door and called him in a shrill indignant voice. He hopped to.
    “So, Arthur, what do you do?” I asked.
    “I’m retired now. But I was an aeronautical engineer.”
    “Interesting. Did my mother tell you our father died in a plane crash?”
    “She did. I’m sorry. It sounds like it was equipment failure.”
    “Yes. He slammed into a mountain in the dark.”
    Wow, I was really laying it on. I didn’t even have any charge left on the topic, but apparently I was going to give Arthur a hard time.
    “That’s what your mother said, that the altimeter failed,” he said. “That’s an unusual instrument to have fail. It must have been very hard for all of you.”
    “It was. Do you fly?”
    “No. I was always too busy designing planes to fly them.”
    I managed to bite my tongue before launching