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Reminders

John Ragusa

    Rose returned from the funeral with a sense of relief.
    At last Frank was gone.
    As she left the cemetery, her friend Bernice told her, “I’m so sorry, Rose. I can imagine how difficult all this has been for you.”
    Rose wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. “Yes, it’s hard, but I think I’ll manage.”
    “If there’s anything I can do for you, feel free to ask.”
    “Thank you.”
    Her neighbor Claire approached her. “You have my deepest sympathies, dear.”
    “I appreciate it,” Rose said.
    Bob Myers, the family lawyer, said, “I’ll be reading the will tomorrow evening at your house, Rose.”
    “That’ll be fine.”
    As she drove home with her teenaged daughter Faye, Rose reflected on her newfound freedom. Finally there would be no more nagging about the things she did. Frank had always complained about her cooking, for example.
    “Don’t tell me we’re having your meat loaf again!” he’d said. “It’s as dry as desert sand.”
    “If you don’t like it, why don’t we go out somewhere to eat?”
    “Do you think I could afford it? I’m not made of money, you know!”
    That was Frank for you; he was the biggest tightwad on Earth. He wouldn’t spend an extra dollar on anything.
    “Darling, do you suppose I could buy myself a nice dress today?” she’d once asked him.
    He’d snorted. “When you start bringing in the bacon, then I’ll let you buy things for yourself. I work too hard to have you throw away our money.”
    She’d wanted to wring his neck right then and there.
    The other day, Frank had been fixing the gutter cans because he was too cheap to hire a professional. It had been too tempting for Rose to resist knocking over the ladder.
    His death had been ruled an accident at the inquest.
    “What are you thinking about, Mother?”
    Faye’s voice brought Rose out of her reverie.
    “Oh, I was just remembering your father.”
    “It couldn’t have been with fondness.”
    “Of course it was. I loved Frank.”
    “Come on! You despised him and you know it.”
    “Faye, that’s not true!”
    “Then why did you yell at him all the time? Why did you insult and belittle him?”
    “You have no idea what he put me through. Any wife would have reacted the same way.”
    “Well, don’t pretend to be sad. Father’s out of your way now.”
    When they got home, Faye went upstairs to her room. Rose took a bubble bath.
    After she was through, she went downstairs for a martini.
    She frowned as a familiar odor filled her nostrils.
    She walked into the den. What she saw on the coffee table stunned her.
    There, in an ashtray, was a lighted pipe.
    She picked it up and examined it.
    It was Frank’s pipe.
    How did that get here? She wondered.

* * *

    The next morning, Rose woke up to the sound of birds singing.
    It’s lovely to start the day without Frank, she thought.
    She got out of bed and spotted Frank’s slippers on the floor.
    That’s funny, she told herself. I thought I put them away in the closet.
    The way Frank’s things were popping up everywhere disturbed her. She hardly needed reminders that he had once been part of her life.
    She brushed her teeth, dressed, and went downstairs.
    Faye was at the dining table, eating cereal.
    “Good morning, Faye.”
    “Hello.”
    “How did you sleep last night? I slept pretty well.”
    “I suppose you did, knowing you wouldn’t have to face Father the next day.”
    “Listen, young lady, I’ve had enough of this. Your father is dead and buried, and I don’t want to hear any more about him. Is that clear?”
    Faye smiled. “Father is indeed dead, but perhaps he isn’t buried.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “Nothing.”
    Rose poured herself some orange juice and went out to sit on the back porch.
    She walked to the patio table and saw a pair of dirty gloves on it. She recognized them as the ones Frank had used when tending their garden.
    What’s going on here? She asked herself.

* * *

    That evening, the family gathered at Rose’s house for the reading of Frank’s will. His sister and brother, Eva and Gabe, received $50, 000, and Rose and Faye shared his estate. Rose felt she should have gotten more than that.
    “Your father sure didn’t leave me with much money,” she told Faye after the others had left.
    “You should be grateful for what you got,” Faye said.
    “I didn’t get a lot of money when Frank was alive. He never let me spend any money on myself; he was too much of a cheapskate.”
    “Well, what did you ever do for him?”
    “I cooked, I cleaned, I was a loving, caring wife for 25 years.”
    “You complained every day about it, Mother.”
    “Frank was the one who did the nagging.”
    “Please, Mother, I don’t care to discuss this anymore.”
    Rose went to her room to read a magazine. She looked at the dresser and saw Frank’s embroidered handkerchief on it. She thought it had been left in the drawer.
    Rose gasped. My God! She thought. Frank has returned! His ghost has come back to haunt me!
    She went to the bathroom to get a nerve pill and saw Faye in there tinkering with something.
    “What are you doing?” Rose asked. “Why, that’s your father’s shaving razor!”
    “You caught me,” Faye said. “Yes, I was the one who left the pipe, the slippers, the gloves, and the handkerchief. I was also putting shaving cream on Father’s old razor when you walked in. I did all those things.”
    “But why?”
    “I wanted you to think that Father’s ghost was in the house. I thought you should be punished for making him unhappy during your marriage. So I tried to frighten you.”
    “Oh Faye! How could you do this to me?”
    “You won’t have to put up with me anymore. Tomorrow I’m moving out and going to live with my boyfriend, Roger. We won’t fight with each other once I’m gone.”
    Rose tried to persuade Faye to stay, but she’d already made up her mind. The next morning, she packed her belongings and left.

* * *

    A week later, Rose went into the den to watch TV when she again saw something shocking on the coffee table.
    It was Frank’s pipe, freshly lighted and smoking.

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