We Put the Fun in Funeral

“All I’m—ouch!—saying is that if—ow!—we can fix the—agh!—floor up here, it would—motherfucker!—really be a great room.”

Jack rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “If you’d thought to wear shoes up here, you’d be able to finish a sentence,” he pointed out. They were in the attic of their new house, their first house together. The floor was very splintery, but Jack had the forethought to put on some shoes. Alex, on the other hand…hadn’t.

“I mean, it’s—OW motherfucking god damn shit—” His phone rang and he extracted it from his pocket. “Hey, Mom.” And just like that, he went from swearing like a sailor to sweetheart, acting pleasant like he hadn’t just been cursing at the floorboards. He carefully made his way to the door, wincing every time he hit a rough spot of wood, and down the ladder.

By the time Jack was downstairs, he could hear him arguing into the phone. “But Mom!” He chuckled at the transformation: Alex was no longer twenty-two and-semi mature; he was eleven and whiny. “Mom, I didn’t know her! I haven’t seen her since I was three and the only reason I know that is because there’s photographic evidence.” Then his voice switched gears. “Mom, please don’t make me do this. We’re just settling in. I don’t want—”

Jack couldn’t distinguish the words, but he could hear Alex’s mom’s voice through the phone from the kitchen. Alex was still in the living room. She was seriously screaming at the boy. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be there.” Without a goodbye, he tossed his phone and joined Jack in the kitchen. “My great-aunt Louise died.”

“I’m sorry?” Alex didn’t seem too torn up about it, but what else could he say?

“Any interest in going to Georgia with me?”

——

“Hey Lex?” Jack asked as they got out of the car and slowly made their way to the door of the funeral home.

“Hmm?” He glanced around cautiously, avoiding direct eye contact with anybody that looked even vaguely familiar.

“What’s that flag up there?” He pointed to the unfamiliar flag at the end of the line: American flag, Confederate flag, Georgia flag, POW/MIA flag, and then…

“Oh, that?” Alex said dismissively. “It’s sort of the official flag of the KKK.” He rolled his eyes, like it was no big deal.

Jack raised his eyebrows so high they just about disappeared into his hair. “Really? Like the racist group?”

“I mean, they don’t fly it all the time. It’s stupid, really. But they fly it at the funerals of former members and their wives. Louise’s husband was a really active member until he died.” He only knew because of the stories he’d heard from his parents and grandparents. He actually didn’t keep in touch with his southern relatives very well.

Jack smiled to himself. This was going to be one hell of a funeral.

“Alex!” a short, skinny shrill-voiced red-headed elderly woman shrieked from across the room, running from where she stood by the casket, large camera dangling around her neck.

“Oh shit,” Alex muttered, edging behind Jack just a little and peeking over his shoulder.

“What is it, babe?”

Before he could respond, she was grabbing his wrist and pulling him up near the casket, positioning him in front of it. Jack edged closer and heard her say, “Alright, let’s get one last picture with Aunt Louise!”

Wait, what the hell?!

When she was satisfied with the photo of Alex, she let him go back to Jack. “Who was that?”

“That would be my exceedingly eccentric Aunt Cat,” he explained. She was already taking somebody else’s picture. “She does this at every funeral. It’s so fucking weird!”

“Now, now, sweetie, don’t use that kind of language,” came the voice of a sweet-sounding little old lady.

Alex groaned and made a why me? face at Jack. “Hey, Mac,” he said, his voice fake sugary. “What brings you here?”

She looked offended. “Louise was family!”

Alex sighed. “Look, I don’t want to get into this right now, so just try not to—”

He was cut off by somebody shrieking, “What is she doing here?”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Alex whispered, lacing his fingers with Jack’s and tugging him to a corner. “That’s my ex-aunt Maxine, or Mac, but she hates when people call her that. Which, by the way, is exactly why I call her that. She’s Louise’s husband’s ex wife. There’s a lot of bitterness between them and she’s kind of neurotic. Apparently when Steve died—that’s Louise’s husband—she showed up and caused a scene about wanting his social security money, blah blah blah.”

Jack laughed. His head was on a swivel, trying to take in everything that was happening. There were people crying, obviously. It was a funeral, after all, and the ones that actually knew and cared about her were probably genuinely upset. And then there were the people that were fake-crying for sympathy. There were the huggers. You know those types, the people that wait at the door of the visitation room and hug everybody that walks in, thanks them so much for coming and expects them to respond with an I’m so sorry for your loss and then won’t let them escape leave without another hug.

There was a couple that looked like they were in high school. The girl was telling anybody that would listen that it was their one month anniversary and wasn’t it so sweet of him to come along? Oh, and they were making out. A lot. “That’s Mel…something. Melissa, Melinda, Melanie. I don’t know. Last time I saw here was twelve years ago and she was two, so I guess she’s fourteen now. Wow.” Alex was speaking more to himself than to Jack.

Jack noticed a man in a wheelchair having a heated discussion with a plastic-looking woman with platinum blonde hair. He could make out the phrase, “But I already claimed the kitchen set!”

“Suzanne and Wesley, Louise’s kids,” Alex told him. “They’re forty-ish and spoiled and are glad she’s gone ‘cause they just want her stuff.”

And it went on like that. Jack would see something a little out of the ordinary and Alex would explain it away. And while Jack was becoming increasingly amused by the entire situation, he didn’t seem to notice that Alex was getting more and more embarrassed.

“Aw, fuck,” Alex suddenly grumbled. “Jack, we’ve gotta go. Now.”

“Why?” he asked, worried.

“I just, it’s—”

“Alex, boy!” a voice boomed.

“Hi,” he said shortly to the monstrously tall man in front of them.

“I see you’re still going through that phase, huh?” He eyed Jack with a look that bordered on contempt.

“It’s not a phase,” Alex snapped, his grip on Jack’s hand tightening as they started to leave.

“See y’all at the service tomorrow!” he called after them. “It’s a very traditional kind of memorial.”

Alex looked like he was about to burst into tears. Jack wasn’t sure if it was from anger or sadness. “And that,” he fumed as they got back in the car. “Would be my uncle Ken. He’s…conservative, to say the least. Doesn’t agree with, you know…us.”

Jack sighed. “He seemed…”

“Please don’t even try to fill in the blank with a positive adjective because whatever it is isn’t true.”

——

They were laying in bed in their hotel room. Alex had his back turned to Jack; he’d barely said a word since they left the funeral home, and Jack had had enough of it. “Lex,” he whispered, prodding his shoulder repeatedly until he rolled over to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“You met the crazy side of my family.”

Jack shrugged. “So?”

“So,” he said sadly. “This is me giving you a free pass. You can leave now. I’d understand.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“They’re insane, Jack. And as much as I try to ignore them, they’re always gonna be there. Homophobic Ken, Mac that I’m not even related to, Cat and her funeral photography, relatives and all of their weirdness, they’ll be there, and you’ll have to put up with them.”

“Wait, you think I’d leave you because your family’s a little out-there?” Jack’s eyes widened in both shock and understanding. He slid off the bed and dug through the pocket of the hoodie that was laid across a chair, pulling something out. “I don’t care if you’ve got serial killers and animal hoarders in your family; it’s not gonna change the fact that I’m crazy about you.”

“Are you sure?” Alex mumbled, sounding insecure.

Jack sat on the floor by Alex’s side of the bed. “I’ve been carrying this around for, like, a month and I’ve been trying to find the right time, and right now is probably the least appropriate time possible, except for at the funeral home, but god damn it, I’m so in love with you, it’s crazier than your family. And I seriously don’t care how ridiculous they get, because I love you so so much and can’t imagine being with anybody else. You’re amazing and I love you and that’s all that matters. Alex,” he said, holding up a ring with slightly shaky hands. “Will you marry me?”

Alex practically fell off the bed as he scrambled to give Jack a hug. “Yes, yes, yes!” he crowed, beaming as Jack slid the ring on. A perfect fit.

Jack smiled at his boyfriend fiancé. “I can’t wait to see what your uncle Ken has to say when he sees a ring on your finger tomorrow.”