Around eleven that night, she had a call from Jack. His words were slurred and she could hear Charlie in the background.
“Tell her,” she heard Charlie say.
“I’m sorry,” he managed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Britt said, embarrassed that his brother had made him call. “Just take care of yourself.”
“I worried you. I freaked out. I’m sorry.” He sounded a bit clearer. “I just need to be alone. Life is sucking a lot right now. Did I mention I punched Charlie?”
“You what?”
“You should’ve heard what he called me! So I got mad and threw him a right hook, or maybe it was a left hook. Truthfully, I can’t remember.”
“Please put Charlie on the phone.”
“Sure. I need another drink anyway. Or maybe another bottle.”
Charlie came back on. “Hi, girlie. Figured out I’m the superior brother yet?”
“Did you put his head in a toilet?” Britt asked.
“Nah, only threatened to. He’s a bit out of it, but he’ll come through all right. D’you want to come over?”
“I just want to be alone,” she heard Jack say.
Britt didn’t want to intrude. “No, thanks. I think you’ve got this under control,” she said and hung up.
She hadn’t imagined she’d rely on Charlie for anything but she was sure he’d take care of Jack till he sobered up. There might be more to Charlie than she’d first thought...that must’ve been the reason Jack wanted him at the funeral. She went to sleep, less worried than she’d been in twenty-four hours. She was so relieved to have heard Jack’s voice, but she missed him terribly all the same.
The next day she slept late and then got ready for the funeral. She had a simple black sheath, flats, and a chunky silver necklace. She pulled her hair back on top and wore muted makeup. When she met Marj, she was surprised to see that even her outspoken and flamboyant friend was subdued in a brown pantsuit and with her hair pulled up.
“What do you think’s going to happen to the company?” Marj asked. “With nobody at the helm?”
“I hope they don’t bring back that last bastard. I’m guessing...won’t Jack and his brother be in charge now?”
“I guess. Jack has a brother?”
“Yeah, Charlie,” Britt said without thinking.
“How do you know about the brother?” Marj asked.
“Insurance forms. You know all the information you have to put on those.”
“Ah. They did ask a lot of crap.”
“Anyway, it’s a successful firm. I imagine if they don’t want to run it themselves, they’ll just hire somebody to do it.”
Marj sighed. “Maybe. I just hate to think they’d shut us down because this was the boss’s last project...the one he should’ve quit instead of doing. Like they might blame us, or blame the company.”
“I hope not,” Britt said, linking arms with her. “We look positively grown up today. Is that sheer polish you chose for your mani?”
“Yes. Are you suitably impressed?”
“Very,” Britt told her.
At the funeral home, they stood in line for nearly an hour. When they finally reached the casket, there stood Jack looking lean and sharp in a dark suit and his brother, stockier, with a close-trimmed beard, looking like Jack gone to seed, wearing a t-shirt and jeans with his sport coat. A girl, the one Jack had kissed when his band performed the week before, was hanging on his arm, looking lovely and slim and very attached. Britt drew a long slow breath and relaxed her shoulders with intention.
Marj looked at Jack. “Please tell me he didn’t bring a date to his dad’s funeral.”