Daron's Guitar Chronicles Vol. 13 (contd)

1107 Crucify

Crucify

Turned out that was Patty I saw in the crowd at the service. I know because later, I went looking for Ziggy outside the church, and eventually found him practically holding Patty and Digger apart at arm's length. He caught sight of me and gave me a look that I took to mean get out of here and let me handle this.

So I did. I went back inside. What I heard of the argument was Digger calling Patty a cunt, and Patty, laughing her throaty laugh and pointing at him, replying, "No. You're a cunt."

That made me laugh.

Like her death, Claire's funeral was a drawn out affair with multiple stages. In addition to the memorial service where her body was presented and Remo and I sang, there was a separate mass, and then there was a thing at the funeral home where she was being cremated. And also the reception.

What is a "reception," anyway? I guess in the case of weddings and funerals it was for the family to "receive" either congratulations or condolences, depending? Or maybe just receive guests. But I kept thinking of radio reception, how sometimes it was clear as crystal, and other times as full of static as my own brain.

The reception was back at the hotel, in a private function room they had off the lobby. There were mini quiches. Courtney must have arranged that because I sure as heck do not remember Claire ever mentioning to me that she wanted mini quiches at her reception.

Ziggy got me through the reception kind of like he got me through the set at the church.

Doesn't that sound ridiculous? "The set at the church." But that's what it was, or what it had turned into. Three songs, but it was... really something. I'm not sure which thing made me more of a zombie, flashbacks to Claire's demise or flashbacks to the performance. My mind was really not on all the people around me and no amount of shaking hands and accepting pats on the back could break me out of that.

Bart was one of the back-patters. "I've never seen you like this."

"Like what?"

"So... shell-shocked. Not even when you were on the verge of losing it in South America."

"Huh. Maybe being at my mother's funeral gives me permission not to have to hide it."

"You're probably right." He pulled me into a hug, but I didn't feel like crying. I had Ziggy's voice ringing in my ears. It was just nice to know Bart was trying to comfort me. "That's really perceptive of you."

"Maybe that means therapy worked."

He grinned and it felt okay to grin back at him.

"See you at home." He combined the back-pat and the hug one more time and then left.

I got to say goodbye to Rose, too, in one of those moments when Ziggy was talking to someone else. "That hymn! Goodness, boy, I hadn't heard that one since I was a little girl." She kissed me on my cheeks, one and then the other.

"Um, yeah, that was..." I couldn't explain Ziggy or anything about why he was late or... anything about him really. Well, maybe a little: "That was the singer in my band." My band, which might be resurrected from the dead. "He and I have a vocal coach. She's German. She made us learn it as a vocal exercise."

"Well, it was perfect. And what a set of pipes on him, hm? On both of you. I haven't heard harmony like that since... oh, since..." She trailed off, looking at me carefully.

"Since who? It's okay, Rose. I won't be offended if you say some band I don't like."

"Well, I was going to say Donny and Marie, but then I thought, no, that doesn't sound right at all." She chuckled. "Sonny and Cher? But here's hoping you two last a lot longer than they did."