Chapter 17: The Stiff

Later that evening when Roxanne was back at her apartment, she received a call from her dad.
“Roxanne, listen. I don’t know how to tell you this, but Owen died.”
She sat on the couch in disbelief.
“Died?” she instinctively said.
“Yeah, I don’t know. Stroke or something. Look, there’s a memorial service in two days. We’re all going to meet afterward at The Hole in the Wall. Want to come?”
“Sure, I’ll be there.” The news about Owen knocked Roxanne’s euphoria out of her system. Owen. Dead, she thought. While her dad tried to sound nonchalant about it, Roxanne could hear the cracking in his voice, proving Owen’s death upset him.
Roxanne took the piece of aluminum out of her wallet and stroked the shiny green clover leaf with her finger. Maybe he’d just sent her there for luck.
With Owen gone, she felt a little more vulnerable. He’d helped her – in his own ways – and now she’d need to watch her back. Despite filing the permit with Baxter’s forged signature, she still wanted to know who stole the original. Like Owen told her, it could be someone wanting to sabotage her.
She went to the kitchen and grabbed an ice cream sandwich out of the refrigerator. Licking the creamy vanilla ice cream from between the brown rectangles, she sat on the couch and lamented not being pregnant. At first, she had been worried about Tom reneging on their deal, but after learning about Owen’s death, she started to ponder how precious family can be.
She contemplated her next move and texted Tom to let him know about Owen. She didn’t mention anything about the permit. She decided that would be her secret. He sounded concerned, but as far as she knew, he’d never met Owen.
***
The memorial service was held at St. Anne’s, a local Catholic church in Memphis with a large number of Irish parishioners. It was the second time in recent weeks that Roxanne and Tom were both dressed in black, however, for a different purpose.
Sitting in a wooden pew near the middle of the church, Tom held Roxanne’s hand as they listened to the sermon and then the casket was closed. Roxanne could hear weeping, mostly from Owen’s sister, but she could see tears in some of the eyes of The Hole in the Wall’s regulars. Angie, the waitress, blubbered in a front pew, calling Owen the best boss she’d ever had.
Colored light flickered through the stained glass windows. Roxanne’s squeezed her father’s hand as he sat on the other side of her. His eyes turned glassy at the mention of Owen’s buddies, how the bar was like a second home to him.
Most of the people there knew Owen from The Hole in the Wall; however, Roxanne noticed a couple of men in the back of the church in dark suits. She’d never seen them before and wondered what their connection to Owen might be.
Once back at the bar, Roxanne wondered what would become of the place. It had been her father’s main hang out for as long as she could remember. Without any family, save a sister, Roxanne couldn’t imagine who would take over The Hole in the Wall.
Tom ordered his usual glass of white wine, while Roxanne’s dad ordered two pints of a dark Irish beer to toast Owen. Roxanne and her dad clinked their mugs together and took a drink. Tom sat motionless. He’d supported Roxanne at the service, holding her hand, putting his hand on her shoulder. But it had been a catholic mass with all its rote motions of standing, sitting, kneeling where Tom’s stiffness had gone unnoticed.
There at the bar, he looked out of place again. He sat unbending on the bar stool like a candle in a birthday cake. Like the flame, only his head seemed to flicker with life while the rest of his body remained rigid.
“So, Tom, what’s your interest in my daughter?” Roxanne’s dad asked.
“Dad,” Roxanne said, making a face at him.
“I see you’re being a gentlemen. What kind of work ya’ in?” her dad asked.
“I’m in real estate,” Tom answered, barely averting his gaze from staring at the back of the bar.
Roxanne gave him a little punch in the shoulder to try to lighten him up. “Yeah, he’s been involved in several projects. His family built that big commercial office building downtown.”
“So what do you like to do?” her father asked.
Tom looked at Roxanne, clearly uncomfortable with her father’s questions.
“I like real estate,” he said.
“And pool,” Roxanne jumped in. “Why don’t you rack ‘em up, Dad? Tom can show you what he can do.” She wanted to prove to her dad that Tom was more than a stiff corpse on a bar stool. Tom certainly wasn’t giving her much to work with. She thought a game of pool might loosen him up, demonstrate how he could be social.
“Ah, I don’t feel like it today, honey. Why don’t you two enjoy your drinks, I’m going to go talk to my buddies over there.” Her father got up from his spot at the bar. “Take care of her, Tom,” he said in his usual jovial way. Then he stepped a little closer and said in a softer but more menacing tone, “or else.”
Roxanne heard her father’s warning and laughed nervously, patting Tom on the shoulder as if what her father said was all a big joke. Tom sat stone-faced.
“What’s up with you?” she asked. “You’re being a little more inflexible than usual. That’s my dad. The least you could do is try to engage in a conversation.”
“Can we go outside to the patio?” he asked. He looked around. There were quite a few people in the bar, and Roxanne could tell he felt uncomfortable with the loud crowd.
“Sure,” Roxanne said, and they ambled down the hallway to the patio.
Outside there were people, too, but they managed to find a quiet corner near where they’d first spied the cat.
“What’s up?” Roxanne asked. “I mean, I don’t need my dad to like you, but I at least want him to respect you. Your performance back there was abysmal. You couldn’t come up with any interests? I mean, really, Tom?” She looked up at him, but Tom was looking at his feet.
“I know. It was rude of me. I could send him a case of that beer he likes. Would that help?”
“Tom,” Roxanne was getting more annoyed with him, “you can’t just buy your way out of everything.”
He grabbed both her hands and held them in his, then he looked in her eyes. “Believe me, I know.”
Roxanne felt his sincerity, but she still wasn’t sure why he had been so formal with her father, why he felt a little more reserved that day.
“So?” she asked.
“It’s hard for me to tell you my feelings.”
“Try me.”
“When you told me about Owen’s death, even though I didn’t really know him, I felt the loss. I guess I later realized it was because I just really wanted to have a child. I tried to comfort you, but I feel the pain too.”
“Tom,” he looked at her, a little unsure how she was going to react, and his hands tensed around her fingers. “I feel that too. I’m so glad you trusted me enough to tell me how you really feel.” She jumped up a little on her tip-toes and hugged him.
Tom, reassured that Roxanne accepted him, hugged her back, then he kissed her hard on the lips, his relief fueling a burning desire between them.
“You don’t have to hide things from me.” She brushed back a piece of hair from his face. “I want to know more about you.” Tom smiled, his grin making her blush.
“Good. I know just where to take you then.”