Page 10 of Arse Over Irish Teacup
Lauren had heard enough. Never taking her eyes off Danny lest he try to escape, she replied. “Did you hear that, Beth? He was just going to slip away! Really, that was so thoughtful. You’ll have to excuse my friend Beth here. She’s grieving her dead grandmother, so, please, allow me to reciprocate your consideration on her behalf.” Before Danny knew what hit him, Lauren shoved him into the grave and grinned when he hit the ground with a thud. Lauren stood, bent over, pointing her finger at Danny cowering in the corner. “You shithead! You’re as manly as tits on a bull! I’d like to feed your family jewels to the squirrels! How dare you!” Lauren turned to leave, then turned back. “I hope rats slowly gnaw away that stupid sideways mouth of yours! And the crows peck out your eyes! And snakes slither into every orifice as you rot in that grave!” She turned away again, took two steps, then turned back. “And it's your loss, buddy! Not only is Beth the best woman on earth but she can suck the nails out of a board!”
Danny, with the pretty blue eyes and ugly car, had had a plan. A good one. No, a brilliant one. Wait until the funeral service was underway, then quietly excuse himself, sneak out the back, and make a break for it.
The plan was flawless.
It should have worked.
Well, if his plan had been so brilliant and so flawless, then how did he end up here—crying like a baby from the bottom of an open grave?
I’ll tell you how. He ignored the klutzy woman and underestimated the gutsy one!
As he stared up at the blue sky from the bottom of the six-foot worm-infested hole, he replayed the event in his head and decided the moment that everything really, ahem, went south, was when he’d chosen to be a nice person. That never paid off.
All the proceedings were over and he had been about to make a break for it when Beth wandered off alone into the cemetery. Some old bitty asked him to go after her. What had he done? Not what he’d wanted to do! He’d wanted to get into his BMW and blow that popsicle stand but he went after Beth.
Beth placed her arm around Lauren’s shoulders, easing her away from the edge of the gaping hole before she could leap in like a rabid dog. “Okay, Big Hoss. Settle down.”
“Settle down? Beth, that asshole was casing your house! And he just dumped you! At Gram’s funeral! Then he left you! At. The. Bottom. Of. A. Grave! I believe I’m entitled to be a little upset!”
Beth eyes widened. There in the center of her iris, a flicker. “You’re right.” She thought for another moment, staring at nothing. Then her eyes snapped into focus. “You’re right! I am entitled to be upset!” her words grew louder and louder. “I’m upset that Gram died! I’m upset that I have to go through this alone! I’m upset that these stupid birds won’t give it a rest! And I’m upset that I didn’t shove that, that—” Beth needed a little help with this rave.
“Dickhead.”
“That DICKHEAD into that grave myself!”
It should be pointed out that Bethany Spinner seldom used vulgar language, but today, in the middle of the cemetery surrounded by stone edifices and memorials, she swore so loud that Lauren was pushed backward by the gust. Beth hadn’t ever yelled that loud before. In. Her. Life.
Lauren waited for the echoing to stop. “How did that feel?”
Bethany smiled as she huffed and puffed. “Great!”
Lauren took a very deep breath and hugged her friend into her side as they walked toward the car and undoubtably the crowd of people waiting to give Beth an applause for as they say, finally letting it all “hang out.”
The friends strolled arm in arm while somewhere in the not-so-distant distance, screeches sounding like a little girl wailing drifted on the breeze. What a pleasing sound.
“I love bird song, don’t you? It’s so soothing and pleasing to the ear,” Beth said as she hugged Lauren’s arm tighter. “That was an impressive speech you gave. Where on earth did that sucking nails from a board bit come from?
I don’t know. Maybe I read it in a book or something.” Lauren gave Beth a sideways look, and the pair burst into giggles. “Now, are you ready for the wake, or would you like to get drunk first?”
“No, I think I’m ready. Gutsy, where would I be without you?”
“You would still be in that grave for starters.”
ChapterSix
Lauren had heard enoughof the mid-west goodbyes. “No, I insist … That’s all right, it’s unnecessary … I won’t hear of it …” and the backhanded insults. It was time for everyone to go home. Besides, all the “sorry for your loss” wishes were followed with “now you can find a husband. You still have time …” That was it! Lauren had heard enough. Beth had time! She deserved happiness! She’d earned it! All these “well-wishers” had earned was a slap in the face and a kick in the backside for being so rude.
Somewhere there was a kind man waiting for Beth to trip into his arms. She just hadn’t tripped into them yet. Lauren was reminded of the time Beth fell off a ladder right into the waiting arms of Jacob Olson. He was tall, dark, handsome, and the top of their class. He was also the most boring bore of all the bores in all of Minnesota.
Thank you for coming. Yes, we all miss Gram. Bub-bye now. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Having herded everyone outside, Lauren closed the door and turned the lock.
Beth thanked Lauren for coming to her rescue, then turned toward the living room. The soft sofa was calling her name.
“Thank God that’s all over. The ladies from church are nice and all, but they’re tyrants!” Lauren looked around. Tyrants they may be but at least they had gone through the house like a white tornado, leaving no trace of their presence except a refrigerator stuffed with food, bouquets of flowers and a basket of sympathy cards. “You know what you need? A long, hot shower. Then get into your pajamas.”
“You must be tired, too. Why don’t you go home to Alan and the boys? I’ll be fine tonight.”
