This earworm took over my ability to write on the other stories. Sorry about that. It is shorter than I normally write. Fourteen chapters. It probably needs some editing. But I want this thing posted so it will leave me alone. I feel sleep deprived because the plot would play in my head over and over. Gah. I sound silly. Probably lack of sleep on top of everything else. Combination of lots of different news stories in the media over the last few weeks and a few youtube documentaries on top of it that I had playing in the background while I was filing.
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Quinn
She is the one that insisted I pay for them despite her antics getting the accounts locked down until things go before the judge. At least the lawyers said that it would come out of the estate before any disbursal of funds regardless of who inherits. Geez. That I should be thinking of all this right now. Maybe I am the heartless monster that she says I am and that she is slowly convincing other people of.
No. Stop it Quinn. What happened was not your fault. It was his. He is responsible and accountable for his actions whether he is still here to take those consequences or not. Sigh. If only I had realized what this was and where it would lead a long time ago.
Time to change the Pooper and Easton could probably use a break from all the prying eyes as well. I wish I had someone I could trust to watch him and Vaughn, just for the Viewing at least, but even if I did, I basically dare not. There are too many other people I can no longer trust. Too much has been said. It doesn’t seem to matter that the gun was in his hands, too many people are looking at me like I should be the one to take the punishment. As if I wasn’t suffering at all. Oh gawd, I knew it. She’s going to start something up here, despite what this time and place is supposed to be for.
“Aunt Quinn …?”
“I know Buddy. I see her. Just stay behind me.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Mrs. Clayton, I am given to understand that you don’t want to register a complaint.”
Nearly too tired to compute what has gone on this day, and many of the days that came before it, I answered, “No Sir, I don’t.”
“Are you sure? They can only hold her for three days. After the hold is over, they will more than likely release her, but while I suspect it will be with the requirement to see a psychiatrist for treatment and counseling, that’s difficult to enforce. It’s either that or the County will bring her up on charges to force her into a plea bargain. Difficult to say at this juncture but my advice is to at a minimum get a restraining order against both of them. Filling out a complaint could help with that. Her daughter is scheduled to go before the judge, but it won’t be until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. She kicked up a fuss during booking and now has a few additional charges pending. Had that not happened she would likely have been released on her own recognizance. Have no idea what will happen now, will depend on the judge she gets. My understanding from the Prosecutor is that she is having trouble getting a bail bondsman due to saying that she would skip town and all of the other nonsense she was spouting. And the other one, the sister they had to take to the hospital, is not having a lot of luck finding criminal representation for either the sister or the mother as the mother’s cousin clearly has a conflict of interest, plus he has only handled civil cases. Her sister taking a good bit of flesh out of the man’s face with her claws didn’t help either.”
Small towns. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and especially about the influential families. Gossip seems to be inexhaustible yet never gets to the people it could help the most until it is too late.
The last bit the sheriff had warned me about was news, but the rest had already been explained to me by Dr. Willis, a deacon in the church I’ve been attending since my engagement. A man much less ineffectual than Pastor Carmody who is under the paw of certain families in the church.
To the Sheriff I nodded respectfully and said, “The Wills are being read in the morning … this morning I mean since it is now passed midnight. Everything that I intend on removing from the household is already packed up and waiting for pick up and that will happen immediately after the Reading regardless of what the lawyers dicker out. My brother’s house has already been emptied and the contents moved as that was in process prior to … to … it all happening. My father’s former house had already been converted to a rental and … and he’d just accepted an offer for it from the people living there. That contract will be honored and there is a closing scheduled tomorrow or the day after depending on the paperwork being ready. The closing on the sale of my brother’s house will take place immediately before or immediately after that one. Beyond that? We won’t be around and anything legal can be handled by Mr. Reedmire and he knows how to get in contact with me if it is necessary or needful.”
The Sheriff looked at me with that professionally blank face that Dad used to say he did so well he must have been born with it, before giving me his own nod and finally leaving me alone to go back to the group of people still standing on the steps of the funeral home. Dad, Stevenson, Nathaniel, and Anderson are — no, their bodies are — buried. The funeral home had needed the caskets for a funeral directly after the one we’d been trying to have. The news says that the death rate is twice what it was during the Victorian Era. I’m not sure how to quantify that. Mostly the news media (aka an arm of the federal government) just makes people a little crazier each day with their headlines. I do know that truly elderly people are getting rare for various reasons and life expectancy overall is shrinking. But there are a lot of unnatural deaths as well. The murder rate continues to sore in large urban areas and even out here in Hicksville we have our spikes. Case in point is the situation I find myself in and how I am being forced to deal with it.
Mrs. Clayton Sr.’s antics, my mother-in-law, meant there had been no graveside service. I think when I get some rest, I’ll be angry at her for that. Pastor Carmody might be a little wishy washy when it comes to church social hierarchy but his eulogies are always on point and helpful to the bereaved and the grieving. Maybe it is for the best. I never wanted for it all to turn into the circus that it has.
Dad and Montgomery would have been horrified and mortified; at the violence and at the spectacle it has turned into. Not by my choice but I’m left dealing with it. I’m already angry at Mrs. Clayton for other things. Just like I’m angry at Charisse and Brianna. I’m angry at a lot of people for a lot of things. Unhealthy angry and that’s why I’ve decided to take Nanny Claxton up on her offer. She may be Dad’s spinster great aunt – the youngest daughter of a late in life third marriage by Dad’s grandfather – but she loves us without reservation. And the boys and I love her, and she needs the help, and it looks like the rest of those we could claim as kin just aren’t interested in being family, or maybe I should practice some kindness and sat at least not the kind of family I need right now even if that does sound incredibly selfish on my part.
Family. It is what started this way back when Nathaniel and I were in second grade. Someone couldn’t tell a Y from an X and our lunches got mixed up. The rest, as they say, is history.
---------------------------
Quinn
Chapter One
Four coffins. They’ll get reused. They are just for the viewing. Nathaniel’s mother insisted despite them being the only ones in stock this week. Who would have thought that government regulations would have caused such a change in the funeral business. And why do the bereaved have to get lectured about environmental issues when they are making arrangements? Used to be funeral directors would be the one person you could expect some sympathy and compassion from even if it was fake. These days they are as bad as the bedside manner of most doctors. But all of that is just background noise.She is the one that insisted I pay for them despite her antics getting the accounts locked down until things go before the judge. At least the lawyers said that it would come out of the estate before any disbursal of funds regardless of who inherits. Geez. That I should be thinking of all this right now. Maybe I am the heartless monster that she says I am and that she is slowly convincing other people of.
No. Stop it Quinn. What happened was not your fault. It was his. He is responsible and accountable for his actions whether he is still here to take those consequences or not. Sigh. If only I had realized what this was and where it would lead a long time ago.
Time to change the Pooper and Easton could probably use a break from all the prying eyes as well. I wish I had someone I could trust to watch him and Vaughn, just for the Viewing at least, but even if I did, I basically dare not. There are too many other people I can no longer trust. Too much has been said. It doesn’t seem to matter that the gun was in his hands, too many people are looking at me like I should be the one to take the punishment. As if I wasn’t suffering at all. Oh gawd, I knew it. She’s going to start something up here, despite what this time and place is supposed to be for.
“Aunt Quinn …?”
“I know Buddy. I see her. Just stay behind me.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Mrs. Clayton, I am given to understand that you don’t want to register a complaint.”
Nearly too tired to compute what has gone on this day, and many of the days that came before it, I answered, “No Sir, I don’t.”
“Are you sure? They can only hold her for three days. After the hold is over, they will more than likely release her, but while I suspect it will be with the requirement to see a psychiatrist for treatment and counseling, that’s difficult to enforce. It’s either that or the County will bring her up on charges to force her into a plea bargain. Difficult to say at this juncture but my advice is to at a minimum get a restraining order against both of them. Filling out a complaint could help with that. Her daughter is scheduled to go before the judge, but it won’t be until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. She kicked up a fuss during booking and now has a few additional charges pending. Had that not happened she would likely have been released on her own recognizance. Have no idea what will happen now, will depend on the judge she gets. My understanding from the Prosecutor is that she is having trouble getting a bail bondsman due to saying that she would skip town and all of the other nonsense she was spouting. And the other one, the sister they had to take to the hospital, is not having a lot of luck finding criminal representation for either the sister or the mother as the mother’s cousin clearly has a conflict of interest, plus he has only handled civil cases. Her sister taking a good bit of flesh out of the man’s face with her claws didn’t help either.”
Small towns. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and especially about the influential families. Gossip seems to be inexhaustible yet never gets to the people it could help the most until it is too late.
The last bit the sheriff had warned me about was news, but the rest had already been explained to me by Dr. Willis, a deacon in the church I’ve been attending since my engagement. A man much less ineffectual than Pastor Carmody who is under the paw of certain families in the church.
To the Sheriff I nodded respectfully and said, “The Wills are being read in the morning … this morning I mean since it is now passed midnight. Everything that I intend on removing from the household is already packed up and waiting for pick up and that will happen immediately after the Reading regardless of what the lawyers dicker out. My brother’s house has already been emptied and the contents moved as that was in process prior to … to … it all happening. My father’s former house had already been converted to a rental and … and he’d just accepted an offer for it from the people living there. That contract will be honored and there is a closing scheduled tomorrow or the day after depending on the paperwork being ready. The closing on the sale of my brother’s house will take place immediately before or immediately after that one. Beyond that? We won’t be around and anything legal can be handled by Mr. Reedmire and he knows how to get in contact with me if it is necessary or needful.”
The Sheriff looked at me with that professionally blank face that Dad used to say he did so well he must have been born with it, before giving me his own nod and finally leaving me alone to go back to the group of people still standing on the steps of the funeral home. Dad, Stevenson, Nathaniel, and Anderson are — no, their bodies are — buried. The funeral home had needed the caskets for a funeral directly after the one we’d been trying to have. The news says that the death rate is twice what it was during the Victorian Era. I’m not sure how to quantify that. Mostly the news media (aka an arm of the federal government) just makes people a little crazier each day with their headlines. I do know that truly elderly people are getting rare for various reasons and life expectancy overall is shrinking. But there are a lot of unnatural deaths as well. The murder rate continues to sore in large urban areas and even out here in Hicksville we have our spikes. Case in point is the situation I find myself in and how I am being forced to deal with it.
Mrs. Clayton Sr.’s antics, my mother-in-law, meant there had been no graveside service. I think when I get some rest, I’ll be angry at her for that. Pastor Carmody might be a little wishy washy when it comes to church social hierarchy but his eulogies are always on point and helpful to the bereaved and the grieving. Maybe it is for the best. I never wanted for it all to turn into the circus that it has.
Dad and Montgomery would have been horrified and mortified; at the violence and at the spectacle it has turned into. Not by my choice but I’m left dealing with it. I’m already angry at Mrs. Clayton for other things. Just like I’m angry at Charisse and Brianna. I’m angry at a lot of people for a lot of things. Unhealthy angry and that’s why I’ve decided to take Nanny Claxton up on her offer. She may be Dad’s spinster great aunt – the youngest daughter of a late in life third marriage by Dad’s grandfather – but she loves us without reservation. And the boys and I love her, and she needs the help, and it looks like the rest of those we could claim as kin just aren’t interested in being family, or maybe I should practice some kindness and sat at least not the kind of family I need right now even if that does sound incredibly selfish on my part.
Family. It is what started this way back when Nathaniel and I were in second grade. Someone couldn’t tell a Y from an X and our lunches got mixed up. The rest, as they say, is history.