Searching for Mr. Darcy

Scene Eighty-Two

"Thank you for doing this," Maisie said when George and Talia arrived on Saturday.  They were pinch-hitting for Maisie so she could attend Marcus's father's funeral.  Momma Frampton remained openly disdainful toward Talia, but had taken a liking to George.  His rigged table had been incredibly helpful to her during her convalescence and as such, she decided he was worthy of politeness.

"She's napping now, and should be for at least another hour."  Maisie grabbed an umbrella as she headed for the door.

"No problem," George said.  "We brought another puzzle if she does wake up before you get back."

"I brought tranquilizer darts," Talia joked.

"Try those first," Maisie said over her shoulder.

****

The funeral took place at Marcus's family church in Durham.  The sanctuary was packed with solemn people all vying for the best seat.  Maisie sat at the end of the last pew, with Clay and his fiance, and pulled a pack of tissues out of her purse in anticipation of the eulogies.

Samuel had always treated Maisie like one of their family, though she got the sense that was how he treated everyone.  He had a heart as big and open as an Ikea on a Saturday.  It pained Maisie that she'd lost touch with the family when she and Marcus broke up, and she wished she could have done more to help them through Sam's illness.

Marcus, his brother, nephews, and mother filed into the front pew as the service began.  Tamar spoke first, reminiscing about time spent with his dads and his sons and how lucky he felt to have shared the joy of fatherhood with him.

The entire congregation was crying by the time Tamar stepped aside and Marcus approached the pulpit.  His eyes were wet with tears, but he looked strong and sure.

"My Dad was the best man I knew.  Probably the best man most of you knew, too.  I remember, when I was little, he made a point of teaching me new things.  I don't mean the normal things every parent teaches their child, like tying shoes or riding a bike or how to shave.  No, he'd teach me how to jump from the living room furniture to avoid carpet lava and how to throw my voice to make my stuffed animals talk when I thought I was too old for stuffed animals.  When I got older, he taught me how to be respectful of others, how to ask a woman on a date, and how to handle rejection if she said 'no.'  When I told him I was moving across the country for college, he taught me how to use a calling card, and years later, when calling cards were obsolete, I got to teach him how to use Skype and FaceTime."

He paused and looked down at his mother in the front pew with a sweet, sad smile.  "These past couple of months, while he was sick, he continued teaching me - how to handle sickness without alienating everyone who loves you, and to always store passwords somewhere your family will be able to easily find when you're gone.  He didn't mean to teach me that one, I'm guessing.  If anyone knows the password to his computer, my mother would love to know it."

Gentle laughter rippled throughout the room.  Maisie dabbed her eyes and wiped her nose.

"I'm kidding, of course.  His password was TarheelsSuck.  It was the first thing we tried because there was a post-it above the computer that read "Duke Blue Devils for life."

More laughter.

"My apologies to any Tarheels fans here today, but I don't feel too badly.  If you're here, you loved my Dad, in spite of his merciless taunting of all things UNC.  Maybe even because of it."

He paused again and gripped the lectern a little tighter, or so it seemed to Maisie.  He took a deep breath and began again.  "I honestly don't know how to move forward.  He was always my guidepost - the person I turned to when I needed help making big decisions.  He always had a kind word and sound advice, no matter the situation, even if I was in the wrong.  I may miss that the most.  Or maybe just seeing his face across the table at Sunday dinner.  He liked to keep quiet and listen to everyone else.  He loved us, his family, so much.  He always wanted to know what we were up to, even the most boring, mundane things.  I guess that's a good thing - he has all the time in the world to watch and listen to us now."

His voice broke and the tears that had been swimming in his eyes fell.  He looked upward, "I love you, Dad.  I miss you."

Maisie was full-on sobbing, and could hear Clay's sniffles beside her.  Memories of her own father floated back, and she only had ten years worth.  She couldn't imagine how hard it was for Marcus, with so many more.

After a song from the choir and a prayer from the pastor, the service ended.  Tamar and Marcus acted as pallbearers; Maisie tried to catch Marcus's eye as he passed, but he was focused on his emotionally draining task, and she felt stupid and silly for thinking he'd be scanning the crowd.

Only family was invited graveside and to the reception after, so Maisie headed back to her mother's.  On her drive, she got a text from Marcus that simply said, "Thanks for coming."

*

Later that night, she got another message, this one from her sister.  "You have an interview on Monday at 10AM."