Perfect Family by Pam Lewis Page B

Tinker. “If she has enough money to live on the Upper East Side in New York City, she has enough money to dress decently. She looks like a bag lady,” Tinker would say.
    â€œThis would have killed your mother,” Minerva said. “You and Pony were her great loves, you know.”
    William felt tears push at the back of his eyes. He looked away.
    â€œYou go right ahead and cry,” Minerva said. “Don’t hold it back.”
    But he couldn’t. Not here. Not with his father watching them from across the room.
    â€œLife is a web, William,” she said. “Everything is connected.”
    He had no idea what she meant, but he felt reassured. He put an arm around her and held her for a minute or two before she pulled away.
    â€œYour mother would forgive me,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”
    â€œFor what?” William had to smile. What sin had she committed?
    In a much stronger voice, she said, “My loyalty is to you, William. It is not to Jasper Carteret. You must come see me in New York. After all this.” She waved a pale hand at the room. William scanned the crowd for Ruth and found her behind Isabel. He motioned them over.
    â€œIs that lovely creature yours?” Minerva asked him.
    William smiled. “So far,” he said.
    â€œTake good care of her.” She clutched at William’s wrist. “You will come and see me. You must promise.”
    â€œI promise,” William said.
    â€œSoon.” She glanced over William’s shoulder. “Oh dear, Jasper again.”
    â€œTell me what this is about.”
    â€œI’ve said too much,” she said.
    â€œMinerva, you haven’t said anything.”
    His father was gliding toward them, tapping his watch impatiently, a practiced smile on his face. The room was filling quickly. The service was about to begin. William took his place in the front row. A minister began to speak. He had a narcotic voice, droning and self-important. Pony would have wanted a poet. A weatherman. A drill sergeant. Anything but this. William concentrated on the gleaming white coffin, now draped in roses and irises, which had been moved to the front room.
    He heard his name and started. It was his turn. He stood and went to the podium. Before him was a sea of faces. The room was full. People were standing at the back. He was stopped by the size of the crowd. He hadn’t realized.
    In the front row were his father, Tinker holding Andrew, Mira, Mark, and Isabel. In the row behind his family sat Ruth. She was sitting with Mark’s family, who had turned out in force, all of them big like Mark, with broad, honest faces. He scanned the rows beyond. Katherine Nicely and a few other girls from the lake were there. TheBells, too. That threw him off. They must have driven down. He hadn’t seen them earlier.
    William hadn’t prepared anything. “We’re here today because of our love for Pony. We are united in our love and our grief.”
    â€œAmen,” someone said.
    â€œAmen,” William repeated, taking strength. “‘Pony,’ I want to say to her, ‘you had a standing-room-only crowd.’” A murmur came back to him from the congregation. He wiped his eyes. Ruth smiled up at him. “Her spirit was so big, too damn big to reduce to a few statements, you know?” In the front row, his father crossed his arms tightly over his chest, a sharp gesture that showed his displeasure. William addressed the people farther back. He found Katherine Nicely’s upturned face, shiny with tears. “She was a generous person. A kind person. Right, Katherine?” People turned to see.
    â€œShe was always moving,” William went on. “You all remember how she never sat still. How she was always moving, always doing something. Engaged. Whatever it was, she did it to the max.”
    The Bells were a few rows behind Katherine. Anita and Dennis sat side by side in dark