"Jaime," Mrs. Lopez said as we walked into the funeral home. She pulled Jaime into a hug and while he was returning it, I could see his discomfort. Mrs. Lopez finally let him go.
"Hi, Mrs. Lopez," he said to her.
"Jaime, I'm so glad you came. You were always a good boy, Jaime. Even when you were running around with Frank and my Emmanuel, the trouble those two got in," she shook her head. "Your mama, may she rest in peace, raised a good boy, Jaime. And I think your papa is doing a good job, too. You stay and listen to your papa, now you know him, okay? You let him show you to stay good."
She pulled Jaime back into a hug as tears fell from her eyes.
"My Emmanuel, Jaime. Why?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Lopez," Jaime said. "I don't know."
She seemed to accept that.
"No one does, do they? Why everyone is so mad all the time? Life is so short. So precious. Jaime, you're doing better now, aren't you?" She suddenly asked.
"I am, Mrs. Lopez. I got a clean bill of health at the last appointment. And look," he pulled off his beanie.
"Oh, your hair is growing in, again. I knew it. I knew you could beat this, Jaime. Go, go sit. Thank you, Mr. Peter, for coming, for bringing Jaime. And for saving him from this mess."
I was left speechless, but gave the woman a hug and offered condolences. They seemed so trite anyway.
I followed Jaime into the chapel and sat down beside him. We heard some whispers and Jaime looked around. He turned, faced forward, his head down. I saw his cheeks turning red and he clenched his hands into fists.
"Hey," I whispered to him. "What's the matter? What's up?"
"Frank and Justin, two rows back, on my right," he said. I tried to look around without making it obvious, but also noticed there were people looking around at us.
"Do you want to leave?" I asked.
"Yes, but I'm not giving them the satisfaction. I'm here to say goodbye to my friend. And by the way, that row with Madison? They'll be videoing you and me the whole time and put it on social media, because they're gross. But, I want you to know that I understand what you meant when you said I wasn't entirely wrong about how stuff I can do can look on you, so I am promising you this, right now, I am not going to start anything. I am not going to acknowledge them. If they say hi, I am ignoring them. Anything that happens, won't be started by me."
"Nothing better start," I whispered back tersely. "This is a funeral. I would hope they have the decency to not start anything."
"You have high expectations. But just remember, I won't start anything. It won't be me, and you won't look bad. I don't mean that to be snarky."
I nodded.
"Just focus on the service. When it's done, we'll jet, okay?"
Jaime nodded. To the casual observer, we looked like a father consoling his son, which obviously I was, but in this moment, I was protecting my son as best as I could, and vowing to get him out of the chapel at the moment the service ended.
The service started on time. The school choir sang, a few students spoke about Emmanuel. The principal did, too. The priest made a short eulogy about the family who had attended his church all of Emmanuel's life. Then, Emmanuel's casket was carried out of the church, down the main aisle. We couldn't jump out in front, that would be awkward and rude, so we tried our best to blend into the immediate group as soon as the casket passed us. As we passed through the vestibule, a slightly larger figure stepped in front of Jaime. He crossed his arms across his chest.
"Hey there, Jay," the boy said.
"Frank," Jaime said through clenched teeth. This was Frank. He was maybe two inches taller than Jaime, but maybe twice his size. Jaime didn't seem afraid of him, so I didn't think this would escalate. I stayed close though, in case it did.
"Been a while. Where ya been?"
"Dying," Jaime said. Ouch.
"Whaddya mean? You look fine. Scrawnier than usual. Don't they feed the mutts up in Beverley Hills?" He glanced in my direction briefly.
"I had cancer, asshole," Jaime said, his voice dropping so only Frank and me, barely, could hear him swear. Madison and her clones all had phones out.
"No you didn't. Why would you say somethin' like that?"
"Because it's true. You woulda known if you'd even attempted to call me. You know how you always said we were your 'boys', and that you'd always have our backs? Where were you when I was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for my life? Hmm? So, if you'll excuse me, I'm here to say goodbye to my brother from another mother. If you're smart, you'll turn around and walk behind the casket like everyone else and watch the result of what being one of your 'boys' can be. And then you'll leave and we will pretend we never knew each other."
I could barely hear Jaime, and I knew no one else could because what happened next looked entirely unprovoked.
Frank wound up and punched Jaime in the face. Jaime grabbed his nose and sank to the ground. Before Frank could land the kick he was about to deliver to Jaime's ribs, four very large boys in letterman's jackets from Santa Monica High grabbed him and dragged him away. Another large boy, also presumably on the football team, bent down and was talking to Jaime. I saw him ask someone for something and Madison smiled and handed him some tissues, which he handed to Jaime. I saw him place them under his nose and watched as the football player helped Jaime up, helped him dust himself off, and shook his hand, hugging him. He stayed and talked with Jaime for a few minutes, so I took it that I could at least approach.
"I was wondering because I didn't see you around school back in September, and then I heard that you'd gotten really sick. It got around the school fast."
"I didn't think you ever even noticed me anymore," Jaime said.
"Look, I was an asshole. I'm sorry. When you quit the football team, and just said 'personal reasons', I took it personally. I'm sorry. You were my Assistant Captain, and suddenly you were gone. You didn't say anything and then you started running with Frank, and I just thought, we were done."
What was I hearing? Jaime was on the football team? And was Assistant Captain? I was going to be asking about that.
"Oh, Taylor, this is my dad," Jaime said. "Dad, this is Taylor."
"Nice to meet you, sir," Taylor said, shaking my hand.
"You too," I said, shaking his hand back.
"How's the nose?" Taylor asked Jaime.
"I think it stopped bleeding," he said, moving the blood-soaked tissues away. I scrutinized his nostrils.
"Yep, I think you're right. It doesn't look like it's bleeding. Just keep the tissues handy," I smiled. Jaime smirked back.
Madison came running over to Jaime and put her arms around his waist.
"Jaime! Ohmigod! Are you okay? Do you need more tissue or something?"
Jaime tried to pry her arms off his waist, but she was not giving in. I could see Jaime struggling to keep his cool. Taylor pulled Madison's arms off of Jaime and moved her away.
"Taylor Bradford!" she complained. "What do you think you are doing?"
And now the paparazzi were here.
"I am trying to keep you from making a fool of yourself knowing full well, you called those reporters here because of Jaime's dad. But, since you seem intent on being seen as a fool, look at what you've done at the funeral of a classmate. A friend, Madison. Remember? In kindergarten, you were going to marry Emmanuel. In middle school, you told him you had a crush on him. In high school, you became a cheerleader and Emmanuel ceased to exist. As did I, and as did everyone, except Jaime, until he quit the football team. You curated this whole life for yourself, but guess what? You're the only one with the script, and none of us want to participate. anymore."
Madison looked apoplectic. Jaime was looking at Madison with contempt I don't think he'd even had for me when we'd first met. It took me aback for a second. But what I did notice was how Jaime stayed removed from everything transpiring.
"Jaime," I said. "Let's go. Let's get you checked out. Make sure your nose isn't broken or something."
"It's fine," he said, distractedly.
"Jaime," I said, with more urgency to my tone. He looked over at me finally, and away from Taylor and Madison.
"Yeah. Right. Sorry. Taylor, thanks for that. I'll hit you up if your number's the same."
"Hasn't changed. Talk to you later," he said, high-fiving Jaime.
I led Jaime to the car, and we drove home.
"Thanks, Dad," Jaime said.
"What are you thanking me for? I didn't do anything."
"Yeah, you did," Jaime smiled. "More than you know."
I looked at Jaime, confused, but he was looking out the window as we drove back home.
When we pulled into the driveway, Meagan ran out of the house.
"What happened?" Then she saw Jaime's blood-stained shirt. "Jaime! Pete! What happened? Why am I getting calls from your management and publicist?"
"That depends. What are they telling you?" I asked.
"That the two of you were involved in an altercation at a funeral. Jaime, please tell me you weren't involved in any sort of fight at your friend's funeral. Though I'm starting to think there's something to it."
"Gee, thanks, Mom," Jaime frowned at Meagan.
"As a matter of fact," I interjected. "There was an incident, but Jaime handled it beautifully. Albeit it left him with a bloody nose, he didn't start or instigate anything."
"What happened?" Meagan asked.
"Could we go inside so I can change out of this?" Jaime asked. We were still in the driveway.
"Oh. Yeah. Of course. Go wash up. Put your shirt in the laundry room."
We went inside and Jaime went upstairs. Marvel saw him and chased after him. He looked back, smiled, and didn't stop her from following him. I smiled after him.
"Explain to me what happened," Meagan said. "Because if we're going to be fielding questions about this, I want to be prepared."
"I need a beer. Let's go into the kitchen, let me get a beer and I'll tell you everything."
Meagan and I went into the kitchen. After I pulled a beer out of the fridge, opened it, and took a long draw from the bottle, I leaned on the island and looked at Meagan. She looked worried. I smiled and pulled her into a hug.
"First of all, Jaime is fine. A little bruised but I don't think his nose is broken. He didn't even bleed for long."
"I'm not sure that's comforting," Meagan said. "What happened? I'm hearing something about social media showing Jaime in a fight at the funeral, Pete!"
"He didn't get into a fight. In fact, he tried to not get into a fight."
"But he came home with a bloody nose. So he clearly didn't do that great a job."
"He did, actually. Jaime didn't start anything, tried to keep it from being anything, and didn't throw a punch. Anything he said was so low, that no one would have heard him outside of who he was talking to and me. And I could barely hear him."
"But what happened?" She asked. "He didn't get a bloody nose over nothing."
"Well, when we got to the funeral home, his buddies Frank and Justin were, in fact, there. Jaime saw them, looked away, and told me they were there and that he would not be the one to start anything, as much as I know he wants to punch Frank, at the least."
"Okay. And then what? It clearly didn't end there."
"No," I sighed. "Frank stepped in front of Jaime and me on the way out of the chapel and confronted him. You'd be very impressed with him. He told Frank, who'd asked where he'd been, exactly what he'd been dealing with and told him off for the fact that he's essentially the cause of Emmanuel's death, that that's what being one of 'Frank's boys' can lead to, and then he said, and this is no word of a lie, I hope I remember it right. 'I'm going to say goodbye to my brother from another mother. If you're smart, you'll turn around and follow the casket with everyone else, and after you'll leave, and forget I exist.'"
"Actually, I said "that we'd forget each other existed," Jaime said, coming into the kitchen with Marvel on his back. He'd changed into a bathing suit and t-shirt. Marvel was in a bathing suit, too.
"Cool if we go swim for a little?" He asked.
Meagan smiled at him.
"You really said that?" She asked.
Jaime shrugged.
"Yeah. And then Frank hauled off and punched me. But some guys from the football team pulled him away before he could do anything else."
"You're sure you're okay?"
"I'm just curious why it's always Jaime's face he gets punched in," I quipped. He rolled his eyes at me but smiled.
Meagan seemed content, so the four of us went outside where Jaime and Marvel went into the pool and we sat by and watched.
I was proud of my son. He'd handled that altercation perfectly.