Hello all!
In celebration of the holiday season, and in celebration of the Green Bay Packers' win today, I am posting the first chapter of my newest novel, Fresh Ice. Enjoy!
ONE
I
hope you’re enjoying your funeral, Jason; it’s the best your sister’s money
could buy, since you left your own family with nothing.
Izzy Marks looked
around the room hoping no one read her bitter thoughts. Her eyes rested on the
silver urn. Inside was what was left of her husband. Izzy tried to keep her
face smooth, calm; what her sister-in-law would want. It was a losing battle.
Her sense of betrayal clung to her features like stage make-up.
Cremation is best,
in cases like this. That’s what the mortuary told her a week earlier. It’s best
when all that remains is what’s left after an explosion in an auto body shop. So
there’s nothing left of you, like you left your wife and daughter with nothing.
She felt justified
in her anger. Izzy recalled too well the years of working and saving and paying
the mortgage. She knew about the life insurance policy Jason paid on every
quarter. She knew about the money in the bank. She knew about the mortgage
burning party they had three years ago.
What she didn’t know
about until her meeting with Jason’s accountant three days earlier, was the two
new mortgages on the house. She didn’t know every bank account was empty. Jason
drained every asset they had in the span of three years.
Which made you
look desperate, suicidal. And life insurance policies don’t pay on suicides.
This much I now know.
What did you do
that was so much more important than taking care of your daughter?
It was a question
she’d asked herself a thousand times in the past week.
There were so many
questions for which she did not have answers, and it never bothered until now.
Married at a very young age, Izzy hadn’t finished high school, and never went
to college after finishing her GED. By the time she was eighteen she was
raising Jenna and keeping the house. Jason took care of everything else.
And before that,
Daddy did. Or Mother. Or Coach.
“Hello, Izzy.” Adele
Grady, Izzy’s sister-in-law, crossed the room and stood next to her brother’s
casket. Mikayla, Adele’s daughter, stood just behind her, tears rolling down
her face. Sean, Adele’s husband, stood in the background, as he always did
around his loud, commanding wife.
“Hello, Adele.” Izzy
attempted to smile, an expression she hoped was the one Adele expected.
“Aunt Izzy, where’s
Jenna?” Mikayla dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
She’s dealing
with the loss of her father calmly, like she deals with everything that comes
her way. Izzy glanced over
Adele’s shoulder for her daughter. “She might be in the bathroom. I know she’ll
be glad now that you’re here, Mikayla.”
Mikayla nodded and
fled.
“Are you holding
up?” Adele handed her a tissue.
Izzy blinked and
dabbed her eyes, trying to decide how to answer Jason’s overbearing sister.
“I’m fine. I don’t think it’s sunk in yet.”
Adele glanced at the
group of mourners huddling near the back of the room. “Well, keep it together.
A lot of people will be coming today. You don’t want a scene.”
Leave it to Adele
to worry if I will embarrass her with a show of emotion at my husband’s
funeral. “I know.” Izzy
sighed. “I have a lot on my mind. There’s so much to do. I have to settle up
the business. I have to go through his things.” Izzy dabbed her eyes again and
squared her shoulders. “I’m a little overwhelmed.”
“Sean will take care
of things at the business.” Adele’s voice was low, but her tone, as usual, was
imperious and cold.
Izzy looked beyond
Adele to Sean, who nodded. Relief washed over her and she smiled at her
brother-in-law. Is it wrong that I just want to clean out the house and let
Jason fade away?
“Izzy?”
Put on the right
face, Isabella. Put on the right face and give the audience a great
performance.
Izzy shook her
mother’s words out of her mind. Where on earth did that come from? How long
has it been since my mother said those words to me?
Jenna, her beautiful
eighteen-year-old daughter, entered the room.
Nineteen years.
“Izzy?”
Izzy focused on
Adele again and forced a weak smile. “Sorry. I’m drifting today.”
“Don’t drift too
far.” Adele glared at her. “Sean and I will be here, for support, of course. We
have always supported Jason, and you.”
Izzy did not miss
the double meaning in Adele’s words.
Adele fished in her
purse and pulled out tube of lip balm. “Here, take this. It’s going to be windy
at the interment later. One thing you can depend on in Wisconsin in March. The
weather will be awful. “ Adele frowned again. Izzy wasn’t certain if Adele was
displeased with the weather for daring to be unpleasant on the day of her dear
brother’s funeral, or if she blamed Izzy for the weather, as she blamed Izzy
for so many other things.
It’s probably me.
She believes Jason killed himself because of me. Left us penniless because of
me. Ended his promising professional career before it even began…because of me.
Izzy took the tube
and tucked in the pocket of her suit coat. “Thanks.” She blinked back a tear
and focused beyond Adele’s shoulder. “Who is that?”
Adele followed
Izzy’s gaze to a tall man standing a few feet away in the archway. “I haven’t a
clue. He’s not some relative, is he?”
None of my
relatives would be here.
Izzy blotted a tear from her cheek. “No.”
“You sure?”
I think I’d
remember someone like that.
Izzy stared at the man. He was tall, very tall, and fit enough to be an
athlete. He seemed frozen, unable to step inside the room. He scanned the room
slowly, as if looking for someone or something specific. His gaze settled on
Izzy for a beat. The stranger had, quite simply, the most beautiful blue eyes
Izzy had ever seen. No, they’re green.
“If he doesn’t
belong here, you should get rid of him.”
You’re right. I’m
only the widow; I’ll get rid of the unwanted guest. You’re the one truly
bereaved, you stay here and weep.
Izzy wiped her eyes
again. The stranger was no longer in the doorway, but she had an overwhelming
need to get away. “I need to run to the ladies’ room for a minute.”
Adele checked the
archway. “No, not now. You can’t possibly leave this line; people will want to
talk to you, after they’ve looked at all the picture boards and signed the
guest book. I can’t cover for you all day, you know.”
Izzy closed her eyes
and inhaled deeply, something she learned to do in the years since she and
Jason had escaped one angry, disapproving family unit only to join another.
“Adele, if I don’t go now, I’ll pee in front of the mourners and that,” she
allowed the corners of her mouth to turn up in this tiniest of victories,
“would be bad manners.”
Adele’s frown
deepened, but she said nothing as Izzy scurried out of her reach.
Once in the lobby,
Izzy breathed more evenly. I’ve got to stop letting Adele have that effect
on me.
A cold fog washed
over her. With Jason gone she had very few choices, and her most logical one,
the safest one, the easiest one in many ways, was to move in with Adele and
Sean. It was really the only option Jason left her.
She closed her eyes,
inhaled deeply, and bumped into someone.
“Oh excuse me.” She
opened her eyes. In front of her was the stranger. Blue-green.
“No, pardon me. I
wasn’t looking where I was going.”
His voice warmed
her. While his accent was clearly Midwestern, there was the slightest hint of a
drawl that she remembered all too well. It made her homesick, and she ached to
hear him speak again.
“Is that a family
member you’re mourning?”
“Yes.” She cleared
her throat, hoping a stronger sound would come out. “Yes, my--my husband.”
The man took her
hand in his and patted it. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“Are you…did you
know my husband?”
Something, a shadow,
crossed his face and his eyes darkened slightly. “No.” The word came out hard,
strained, as if he were denying something. The shadow left his face and he
smiled, “I’m here, with friends. Some of the Milwaukee Admiral Hockey players
are here to pay their respects.”
“Oh yes. Jason did a
lot of work for them. He rebuilt classic cars.”
The man nodded.
“Yes, I know.” He looked beyond her. “Someone’s looking for you.”
Adele, no doubt.
Why should I be allowed a conversation with anyone she doesn’t know?
“Again, I am sorry
for your loss.” He dropped her hand and backed away.
She stared at her
hand, his warmth lingering. I never got his name. She looked up, but he
was already gone.
“Aunt Izzy, Mom says
if you don’t get your ass back in there, she’s going to make you live in the
garage.”
Izzy smiled at
Mikayla. “I’m sure she didn’t say that.”
“No, but what she
said wasn’t enough to get you to smile.”
Izzy hugged her
niece. “Thanks kiddo. I guess I should go in there and greet people.”
“It is the
tradition. Sort of barbaric, if you ask me, walking past the dead person.”
Mikayla put an arm around Izzy. “But I guess people need to say good-bye,
right?”
Izzy walked back to
her station at the side of the casket and stared at the people gathered to say
farewell to her husband. There were friends, coworkers, and people who knew
Jason because he rebuilt automotive works of art for them. She could match each
face with the pristine classic car they owned. My parents aren’t here. You’d
think after all these years they’d forgive us. They should be here for
something like this. How long am I supposed to pay for my sins? I gave up my
career. I gave up my life. I lived in exile for almost twenty years. Now
Jason’s gone and everything we had went with him. How much more must I pay for
that one night?
Print format readers, you have another 24 hours to wait. Those of you who use Nook and other reading devices, it's going to be a little bit of a wait.
