She's A Lady

21

Damien

I couldn't help but overhear the conversation ahead of me. The older man was in tears, his middle aged son stroking his back in gentle circles. A little boy stood next to them with one hand clutching his father's shirt. The resemblance was striking between the three, like seeing three stages of life in the same man. The boy had the shiny curls and bright eyes of youth. The middle aged man was in the prime of his life, tall and strong with an attractiveness that turned your gaze. The older man was just as tall but stouter, with contrasting gleaming white hair and wrinkled tanned skin.

"Daddy, why is Poppie crying?" The little boy whispered loudly.

"Because the man he loved has died. He is with the angels now." The older man turned slightly to speak to the boy. The older man choked another sob at the words.

"But, what about Grammie? Didn't he love Grammie?" The little boy sounded confused.

"Yes, Grammie was his best friend in the whole world, but he loved this man like I love your Mommy." The man explained to his son.

"Why didn't he marry him then?" The boy asked.

"Remember I told you? How Poppie's parents were like those boys at school? They didn't let Poppie marry the man he loved because they thought it was bad. But it's not bad, okay? Poppie, Uncle Charlie and you can all love whomever you want to, okay?" The man said firmly. The boy was nodding solemnly at the words and responded with a quick grin.

"Okay Daddy." The older man turned to hug his son and pulled the boy in with a teary chuckle. It was a sweet moment, and it occurred to me then who these people were. I waited for them to break apart before I approached the old man.

"Excuse me, but are you by any chance the man in the photo?" When they turned it became much more obvious that this was exactly the case. They turned and I was met with bright blue eyes times three. They looked confused, so I asked them to follow me. In the next room was a collection of posters made by his shelter kids, cards and flowers from his parishioners, and lastly a table of his personal items. The last was where I brought him.

On the table were a set of glasses, a picture of his siblings growing up, and a silver framed photograph of him next to the man beside me, from at least sixty years ago. The faded photo showed a version of the man in black and white, but the wide grins of the two men still allowed a positive ID. My uncle was in casual clothes; the man's arm was thrown over his shoulder as they laughed at the cameraman. The sunny, beautiful photo was a startlingly happy version of my uncle, and one that no one had seen until they had gone into his room to collect mementos for today.

"He kept it next to his bed right up until the end. I thought you should know. You belong here as much as any one of his family, more so perhaps. Please don't feel like you need to stand at the back of the room." He looked at me with a slightly shocked look on his face. I smiled gravely, and welcomed the embrace when he lunged forward for an awkward hug.

"Thank you. That means a lot, son. It really does." He patted me and seemed to straighten up a little before marching back into the viewing room. He went in, walked up to the front, hesitated a little, then paid his respects to his love. As he turned, my grandma approached him.

"Edgar? Are you Edgar?" She asked, teary eyed. He nodded with a slightly scared look on his face. My grandma embraced him with a sob. They cried together for a minute, grandma swaying slightly with the tall man. They broke apart and had a hushed conversation that lasted longer than I stood around watching for. I moved to where Erin stood with my mom and brother. Her eyes were all red, but she was somewhat composed. She smiled a little at my approach and hugged onto my arm.

I waved the son and grandson to come join us when they popped back into the room. They made their way over and I introduced all of us.

"I am Rob Mason Sr. and this little guy is Rob Jr. I have three older sisters, but they all moved out of the area for school and were not able to come today." He shook hands with all of us, a rueful smile on his face. We all shook hands with little Rob Jr. as he mimicked his dad's actions. It was pretty adorable and made many of us weepy people smile at last. It was like an open window that was sorely needed, having the little guy here. Edgar joined us with grandma and shook hands around, only to have Rob Jr. follow suit again. We all laughed quietly.

"My wife, Mary, passed on two years ago. I told her all about Robert and how I really felt. She was an absolute angel. We were the best of friends our whole lives, and I would never say I regret having her with me... but I do regret never knowing what could have been." Edgar patted Rob Jr.'s head and the little boy hugged onto him.

"Woulda, coulda, shoulda, my friend." My grandma shot back before pulling out a little silver flask from her purse, downing a long swig and passing it over to a slightly shocked Edgar. When he didn't grab it right away she thrust it at him with a snort.

"Grams!" My brother Malcolm exclaimed finally.

"Malcolm!" She sarcastically huffed back. I was having troubles keeping from bursting out laughing at the sassy glare from my grams and the disillusioned pout of my brother. Ah, this was family at it's finest. Edgar shrugged at his son and tipped back a shot. His hiss as he downed it had me shaking my head.

"Cheers Eddie, welcome to the family." Grams grinned and took her flask back.