Melodies in the Key of Life

You Should Be Here

“Hey, Cole! Catch!”
“Man, that’s cool! Flip it to me!” Bob said, not looking at Cole, but at the pretty girls attending the barbeque.
Cole lowered the longneck as the Frisbee spun its way to a wobble on the lip of the bottle. The foam from his beer was slowly dripping off his wrist. “Hey, Bud, you okay with your dog licking up my spilt beer?”
“A little bit won’t hurt. Just don’t do nothin’ stupid or I’ll have to pound you some.”
Cole grinned and then whipped the Frisbee off and gave it a quick flip to Bob as he sucked the stickiness of the evaporating brew off his hand, while keeping one eye on Bob. And he did not disappoint. Bob had paused before chasing after the Frisbee and then dived to catch it. The girls rewarded him with sufficient attention to encourage him to continue. “Hey, Jim!”
Jim had to run to meet his opportunity to impress the ladies. “Hey, give it back!”
It was too late. Bingo jumped to catch the Frisbee. He played dodge with Jim, tail wagging feverishly, and then off to hide his treasure in his cache.
“Sorry about that, man” Cole laughed. “He has a stash of those somewhere around here, I just don’t know where. Marnie couldn’t get that crazy dog to behave. We tried.”
Cole smiled to himself remembering the day he bought that dog for Marnie. She called him Bingo as a joke, but they kept it because it was the only name he liked. Every once in a while when the wind whispered just right, he could hear her singing “There was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o”. That was of the haunting melody as the spirits allowed.
It would be a good party, Cole thought, as he stepped off his porch to join his friends and neighbors in the backyard. He hadn’t seen some of them in forever and it was a perfect sun-filled day. There was Marnie’s sister. Cole still could not bring himself to talk to her just yet; she looked too much like Marnie.
“You okay, Cole?”
That voice deep baritone grit with a hint of breathiness that comes from the exertion of carrying 100 extra pounds around – was easy to recognize. “Yeah, dad. I just wish Marnie could be here. She’d be lovin’ this.”
“I know. She’s in a better place. It’s time for you to start living again. ”
“That’s what they say.” Cole wanted to shrug the warm loving hand off his shoulder. He wanted to sit by himself and stare at pictures of Marnie. Both he and his dad knew that the family was invited to make sure he took care of his guests. “Who do you want to meet, dad? All our college –“
“Why did you invite Marnie’s friends?” The sternness in his father’s voice irritated his senses.
Cole hedged, “Just the ones from the wedding. Marnie was trying to hook them up with my friends so we could have couple’s –“
“Yeah.” Craig wheezed. It was hard for him to listen to his son as he transitioned from married to widowed. It was a long tough two years. Craig attempted to redirect the conversation, “There’s Corwin. Poor guy. No one should have to bury their child. Where’s his wife? Gayle? Wasn’t it Gayle?”
“Divorced. She wouldn’t come as long as he was here. I tried to get them back together. Marnie would have wanted that. They just gave up on each other after – you know?”
“That’s too bad. Really too bad. You have a good heart, son. He looks like he wants to talk to you. Go on, now.”
Cole started with Corwin and moved through the mandated protocol to mingle with everyone. Marnie would have known what to do and what to say. If she were here, she would have her phone out taking pictures of everybody and showing all the pictures already on there. It used to be so much fun downloading all the pictures on a disc, laughing through the memories of what they were doing right there at that moment.
Cole was glad he invited so many. By the time the evening was over, he was laughing and joking with everyone. There was a growing distance between his sad memories and his want to relive every moment he spent with his Marnie.
Waving off the last of them, Cole turned to face the picture window that adorned the front of his house. It cost a lot to get a local artist to do up window shades in the Marnie Room so that everyone coming up the drive would see her pretty face welcoming them. When he was in that room he could recreate her from the way she carried herself, the White Linen cologne she favored, the way it felt to hold her. He did not remember coming in this room, just that he was here now, all the wall space plastered with Marnie’s selfies, tiles on the floor, were specially made to have Marnie’s likeness on them. Even the ceiling fan had images of Marnie painted on the fins. Gently turning the screen rod, he closed the window blinds to bring forth an image of Marnie riding a horse; spin it back to bring the blinds horizontal and he saw the black and white outline of her looking up, laughing. Back and forth, back and forth. Horse riding and laughter. Opening and shutting the blinds in sweet gentle repetition.
Cole dropped to his knees; arms wide open, sharing his mournful lament, “You should be here, woman. Standing with your arms around me. God, I wish somehow you could be here.”