Death & Decluttering Page 2

  “Oh, you could say that.” Chip pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it high with two hands as if it were a trophy. “You see this? It’s from a big publisher. They’ve agreed to publish my book! I’m going to be a published author!”

  There were gasps and cheers around the room. Joy’s father slunk lower in his chair. To Joy’s surprise, Chip’s nephew, Max, looked less than comfortable, too. He was studying the back of his hands and refusing to look up or make eye contact with anyone in the room.

  “Well, ain’t that something!” Pietro smiled. “Giulia, sweetie, did ya hear that? We’ve got a celebrity in our own little cafe!”

  Giulia came out from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. “I heard, I heard. Congratulations, Chip. I know you’ve been trying to get published for years and years.”

  “Sure have! And who says the tortoise can’t beat the hare? Slow and steady, that’s my motto.”

  At this, Joy’s father scoffed. “Right.”

  Chip turned to him with a nasty smile. “You got something to say, James?”

  “No, no.” Joy’s father shrugged. “I’m not a man of words like you. Personally, I believe in action.” He slammed a fist against a palm to emphasize his point.

  Chip winced. Everyone in town knew that once, about thirty-five years ago, Chip had been soundly thrashed by James Russo in the middle of town. It was one of those stories that Joy grew up hearing adults talk about at countless parties - although the conversation would shut down if any children were nearby. She had memories of sitting under the oak dining table at her Nonna’s house with a heavy, velvet tablecloth hiding her, eating cake while the increasingly-raucous chatter of her family rumbled overhead like a storm cloud. For the first time in years, Joy wondered exactly what had made her normally-placid father lose his cool.

  “Well, time for us to be off then.” Joy’s father stretched, then smiled at the crowd. “Good seeing you all. See you next week. Joy? You coming?”

  “Er…no. I’ll stay back a while,” Joy said, realizing this was no longer the time to burden him with her problems.

  “That’s the spirit.” Chip clapped a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure, as town reporter, you’ll have a few questions. No doubt the Bent River Bulletin will want an interview with me.”

  “Uh…” Joy looked around. Her editor, Tim Heston, was nowhere in sight. “Well...”

  “Timmy and I are old friends. Good old friends.” Chip smiled. “Wonder why he’s not here today?”

  “He hadn’t been feeling well all last week,” Joy said.

  “Well, he’ll be glad to hear of this, of course.” Chip beamed. “I’m telling you, this book is going to put our little Bent River on the map - and maybe some of it’s inhabitants, too!”

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Joy’s father was politely-frosty as he left the cafe, trailed by her mother. Joy gave them both a worried look. Her mother blew her a kiss right before she exited, as if to reassure Joy that she’d take care of him.

  Honestly, what was with her father? Joy knew him well enough to know that he was probably furious on the inside, and hiding it best as he could. Frosty-politeness was her father’s way of handling rage. In all the years she’d ever known him, she’d rarely seen him lose his cool.

  As soon as her parents left, Chip lost interest in Joy and busied himself circulating around the room. His nephew, Max, came and sat down next to her, never once taking his head out of his phone. As one of the few other twenty-somethings in town, Joy and Max were friends. He was a lawyer and had moved into Bent River five years ago with the intention of someday taking over his Uncle Chip’s practice. Joy smiled up at him and received a distracted nod back. Max was busy typing something. Joy, snoopy as ever, caught sight of a single sentence.

  “I really hate him sometimes.”

  Who could Max be referring to? Joy looked up at Chip, who was laughing and feeding someone a spoonful of Tiramisu, happily unaware of anyone but himself.

  *****

  Chapter 3

  A Little Treat

  Aurora was having a mini panic attack, or perhaps even a heart attack. It was hard to tell which. Carrying heavy boxes up and down the stairs was tough on her - it had been a while since she’d done any cardio. Plus, there was a six-foot-tall bird on the front lawn who was getting increasingly curious about the contents of her car, which was disconcerting. On her third trip back to the car, Aurora gave a yelp. The ostrich had his head poking through a small gap in the back window and was nibbling experimentally on a box marked “Kitchenware”. She managed to chase him away for a bit and rolled the windows up till they were tightly closed. Still, it made her nervous to have him lurking around like a hired goon in a second rate mystery.

  “Who names an ostrich Philbert anyway?” she wondered out loud.

  The bird took a step toward her as he heard his name and Aurora fled back into the house.

  Ah, the house. There was the matter of her new house. She had thought Joy was being generous, giving her the master bedroom. Until she opened the door to it. It was probably a nice room - if you cleared out the piles and piles of newspapers, the heaps of clothes on the bed, the old mattress and the many cardboard boxes filled with who knew what. Uttering a muffled curse, Aurora walked around the room, deciding to ignore the mess for now. The entire room had been painted buttery-yellow and looked as though it had not been redecorated since the 70’s. Aurora felt a pang of pity as her eyes fell on the side table, which was covered with countless empty medicine bottles. The names were long and sounded serious. Aurora gave a little shudder as she pictured what could cause one to require them.

  Trying to cheer herself up, she moved to the en-suite bathroom, the walk-in closet and then the balcony. What space! What heaven! In New York City she had spent years and years staring out at ugly buildings smeared with pigeon poop. The only apartment she could afford had been a little box with numerous ailments and a permanently-broken radiator. Even in its current state, this place was far superior. She had an entire balcony to herself! She could actually see the river flowing right from her own room, along with a fine stretch of green fields. The balcony was also charmingly covered with pots full of succulents, some of which had grown rather tall. Aurora resisted the urge to pet a plump, fuzzy looking one, knowing she’d probably get her hand pricked.

  Alright, so there was something in this house she could love, even if it did require a lot of work. That was a good thought.

  With her stomach rumbling, Aurora decided to make herself a snack. Joy hadn’t told her anything before leaving so, rather pettily, Aurora decided she’d just help herself to whatever was in the fridge. Although it was as cluttered as the rest of the house, the kitchen was, luckily, quite clean. Aurora was sure she couldn’t have borne it otherwise. At least this meant Joy was civilized enough to wipe the counter once in a while.

  Aurora poked her head into the fridge and found a half-eaten sandwich, a carton of expired milk and three entire bags of shredded lettuce which were now quite inedible. In the freezer there was an unopened pint of Tutti-Frutti ice cream, which Aurora grabbed and cradled to her chest as though it were her long lost lover. Walking over to the living room, she moved a pile of magazines to make space on the sofa and sat next to the still-snoring Beppe.

  She gave a little sigh of satisfaction as the ice cream hit her tongue, melting instantly and coating her throat with coolness. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the flavor with its brightly-colored candied-fruits but, right now, it felt like a friend and a comforter all at once.

  “Mm. Huh? G’way.” Beppe swatted at something in his sleep. “No! No! Lauren, stop!” He tried to turn and, before Aurora could stop him, he crashed onto the floor, landing on a cushion of newspapers, a purse and an empty deodorant can. He blinked sleepily and sat up, one hand on his temple. His eyes squinted against the light as he turned to look at Aurora.

  “That was a terrible dream. Absolutely terrible,” he said to Aurora conversationally.
“Rare for me to have those. I normally sleep like a baby.”

  “So you wake up crying a lot?” Aurora couldn’t resist asking.

  He threw his head back and laughed, then pointed two finger guns at her. “Right, right. Because babies cry. I guess the only people who say ‘sleep like a baby’ have never had one. Like me. Never been married.” He thumped his chest. “Makes me an oddity in this town. Why, Chip and I are the only ones who have never been married. Everyone else jumps to it like cowboys to the gold rush. I ask you, is there any sense in that?”

  “Er… no?” Aurora had a spoon half-raised to her mouth. She wondered if it occurred to Beppe to introduce himself, or ask what a stranger was doing in his niece’s house. Or, for that matter, what he was doing in his niece’s house.

  “No sense whatsoever,” Beppe said. He smacked his lips then rose up slowly, one hand on his lower back. “Well, I guess I’ll help myself to some water. You sit right here, don’t trouble yourself.”

  “Oh...” Aurora was suddenly unsure how to handle the situation. Technically, this was her house now, which meant Beppe was her guest, too. Perhaps she should have offered him something. Then again…maybe he would have been insulted at being treated like a guest in a house that had once been his father’s.

  By the time she’d worked it out in her head, Beppe was back with a spoon in one hand and a tall glass of ice water in the other. Sitting next to her, he casually took a large scoop of ice cream from the carton she was eating out of. Pausing only to sniff the ice-cream appreciatively, he swallowed it in one gulp.

  “Now, what I always tell Joy is that she needs to have her own life sorted out before she invites others into it. My sister, Maria, says that Joy can’t sort out her life unless she invites others into it. Nonsense. Utter nonsense. Solitude is the best way to know oneself, and knowing oneself is the best way to be happy.”

  “Mmm hmm.” Realizing that he intended to stick his now-used spoon back into the carton, Aurora had been shoveling ice cream into her mouth at double speed. She could only manage to nod and smile at Beppe as he talked on, unconcerned. Apparently, sharing ice cream with a total stranger was alright with him. Aurora was germphobic at the best of times, and the thought of his spoon touching any portion of her food gave her the chills. He reached his spoon out and, with a sigh, she offered him the rest of the carton, which he happily took.

  “So you decided to move out here?” Beppe asked, pointing the spoon at her.

  Aurora nodded. “I did.”

  “Bent River isn’t for everyone. Your grandfather loved it though.”

  “You knew my grandfather?” Aurora raised an eyebrow.

  “Everyone did.” Beppe shrugged.

  “I...” There was an awkward pause. She tried not to let the hurt show on her face, but it was there like a waving flag and she knew it. Talking or thinking about her family did that to her.

  “But this was a long time ago,” Beppe said. He sighed and held his head. “This ice cream is giving me a headache.”

  “Was your father close with my grandfather?” Aurora asked. “Did your father ever say anything to you about him?”

  “What did he say? Why, he said your grandfather was the most hot-headed, conceited son-of-a-gun to ever walk the earth—” Beppe said.

  Aurora bristled. “I’ll have you know—”

  “...that’s what made him so great,” Beppe finished.

  Aurora wasn’t sure whether this was a compliment or an insult, but she decided to let it slide. “So, help me out, would you? I never really met my grandfather. I was raised alone by my mother, and we moved around a lot. How did my grandfather know your father, Ricardo Ricci? Why did your father bother to leave me half this house? It just makes no sense to me.”

  Beppe looked uncomfortable. “Maybe it would be better to ask your mother these questions.”

  “I can’t do that. She passed away three years ago.” Aurora felt her heart break all over again at the thought. Her beautiful mother - no matter how much time passed, the grief still bubbled up with new ways to hurt her sometimes.

  The front door slammed in the hallway and Beppe rose up hastily, forgetting to answer.

  “Well, I’d best be on my way…no, no don’t trouble yourself. I’ll exit through the kitchen. Do me a favor and distract Joy, would you? She’s never very…well…kind to me on occasions like this.”

  Moving quicker than Aurora had thought him capable, Beppe jumped over an end-table and sidled off into the kitchen. Aurora heard the back door unlock and then shut softly just as Joy marched into the living room. Aurora noticed that she was deliberately thumping her feet as she walked.

  “I always give him time to escape.” Joy grinned.

  Through the window, Aurora saw the ostrich, now a blur of feathers. Beppe sat atop him, holding onto his hat with one hand as he rode off.

  “I think,” Aurora said firmly, “that I need a long nap.”

  *****

  Chapter 4

  Something Terrible Has Happened

  Joy shot up out of bed as she heard the phone ring. The digital alarm clock beside her bed read 3:04am. Ricci House was one of the few houses in Bent River to still have a landline, mainly because her Nonno had insisted on it. He’d liked the fact that it was tied down in one place. A mobile phone was far too easily lost in the mountain of clutter all around the house.

  Now, Joy realized with a sigh that the phone was still in her Nonno’s room. The room she’d hardly ever entered after he died. The room she’d thoughtlessly let Aurora settle into earlier that day.

  The ringing stopped. Joy shrugged on a robe and tied the belt around herself. Her hazy mind had begun to clear, and panic was marching its icy feet down her spine. A call at 3am could only mean bad news. Gearing herself up mentally, Joy walked down the hallway and rapped on what was now Aurora’s door.

  Aurora swung it wide open almost immediately. Her eyes were wide and panicked. “Joy…it’s…it’s for you.” She pointed behind her and Joy raced to pick up the phone. She closed her eyes for a second and took a breath - the fear that something bad had happened was now certainty.

  “Joy, sweetheart.” It was her mother. Oh no. “Something terrible has happened.”

  “It’s Dad, isn’t it?” Joy’s throat was so tight she could barely talk. Aurora came up behind her and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s…me, actually,” her mother said. “I’m calling from the police station. Oh, Joy…could you come? Quickly? I think I might need a lawyer, too. I just...”

  “You’re at the police station?” Joy blinked. “What?”

  “I’m being questioned,” her mother said. “Joy…it’s not looking good.”

  “You? Questioned by the police?” Joy was baffled. “At 3am?”

  “Chip Goggins is dead.” Her mother’s voice was strangely emotionless and flat.

  “Where’s Dad?” A new suspicion had begun to dawn on Joy.

  “I don’t know. The police have gone to get him, too. Joy, can you please just come? Tell Uncle Pietro and the others, will you?”

  “Sure. Sure. Of course,” Joy said. “Don’t you worry, Mom. We’ll sort everything out soon. Just stay strong.”

  “Your time is up,” an official sounding voice said in the background.

  “Just one more min-” Joy heard her mother protest just as the phone was cut off.

  Aurora gave her a questioning look as Joy placed the phone down.

  “I have to go,” Joy said, pushing past her and rushing to the door. No…wait…she had to call her uncles first. Struggling to remember where she’d put her purse, Joy ran to her room and began searching around. Her phone, wallet and keys - she really needed them right now.