Paul pulled up to the curb of Nashville Avenue and walked up the brick walkway to his little brother Joseph\u2019s front door. The giant two story house, from its storybook patterned shingles all the way down to the wraparound porch sanded so smooth you could slide on it in socks, was all Joe\u2019s handiwork. He\u2019d long ago stopped building with a crew and moved into his overseer\u2019s office, and his home was his only jobsite now, already planned, plotted, and paid for. The four spare bedrooms Joe had built remained sparsely decorated and neutral until his wife had had time to fill them all with occupants, until the house was complete inside and out. Paul joked for a long time that the family would have to adopt another kid when their oldest left for school, but that riff joined a select few others in retirement the day Joe disassembled the furniture, knocked down a wall, and expanded his study. Paul now stood with Kendra in front of Joseph\u2019s desk where a bed used to be.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou guys want coffee? You look like Humbert Humbert and Lolita at the end of a long night\u2019s drive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is everybody?\u201d asked Paul.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRobert and Patricia. Your wife. All the kids?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI guess Robert\u2019s out signing a lot of paperwork and checks. Josie took Fern and Ben to the pool at the J. Caroline\u2019s still away at summer camp in North Carolina. Joey\u2019s up in his room writing an obituary.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kendra sank into a leather couch and rolled her eyes. \u201cI told<\/em> you I didn\u2019t have to come.\u201d<\/p>\n Paul crossed his arms and drew his eyebrows together. \u201cJoey?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy kid\u2019s a good writer.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut what does he know?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe knows what he knows. You just fill in the blanks with names and dates, essentially.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought we\u2019d get one of those sidebar write-ups. That\u2019s gonna take a little more than basic facts.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know how much those cost? That\u2019s valuable real estate in the Times-Picayune<\/em>. Three grand easy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo what? We pay.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe opened up an online game of Hearts on the computer monitor he had aimed away from Paul. \u201cWhat\u2019s the big deal?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re talking about a pillar of the community here! They should all get those write-ups. Don\u2019t you ever just feel for those friends of Pop who die and then get stuck in the small print? It\u2019s an outrage.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou want it, you pay for it. I just don\u2019t want the costs of this funeral to snowball. Too many people get involved, it can snowball. You pay out of pocket if you want some half-page ad for Pop.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve got a friend down there in the sports desk. Maybe we can make a deal.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe he could write it, too. Obituaries and Monday morning Saints write-ups can\u2019t be too different.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJesus, Joe. Can\u2019t you focus just a little bit?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFuck you, Paul. I\u2019ve gotten half the preparations done while you\u2019ve probably been nursing a hangover.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI feel fine. I\u2019m just saying, what\u2019s the rush? We can take our time with this and get all the details right.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s no rush other than we need to get everybody together to shake our hands, sniff over the casket, eat some food, and get that body in the ground before<\/em> it starts to rot. And I\u2019d like to be back at work on Monday.\u201d<\/p>\n Paul uncrossed his arms and let them fall loosely at his side. He stared out the window over Joseph\u2019s head at the ivy climbing up the brick wall of the house next door. He blamed himself, now, for getting distracted. It was obvious to him that he\u2019d have to pull his family together on his own if they weren\u2019t going to be drawn magnetically by this crisis the way nature intended.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, what can I do for you, Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI mean what\u2019s left on the list that\u2019s still hanging fire?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe leaned back again and looked up at his brother. \u201cWe\u2019ve got it all settled, Paul. Don\u2019t worry about it. All you have to do is show up on Sunday.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t want to just show up<\/em>. Kendra, will you go hang out with Joey or something?\u201d<\/p>\n Kendra closed the door behind her.<\/p>\n \u201cI went to go see Mom this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n Joseph smacked the arms of his chair. \u201cWhat\u2019d you do that for?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think we\u2019d have been a lot better off if we\u2019d waited until after the funeral to let her know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat wouldn\u2019t be fair, though.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFair? To who? Is it fair that now we\u2019re going to have to try and keep her contained through the whole service? Who knows what she\u2019s going to rant about.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCareful, that\u2019s your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know<\/em> my mother. The woman in that wheelchair is like a bad movie remake of my mother. Plus, she still has that motherfucker Phil Lange on retainer, and I don\u2019t want him anywhere near us when we read the will. Goddammit, Paul, how do you constantly find ways to complicate things?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy do I get the feeling that you and Robbie are just trying to sweep all this under the rug and move on with your lives? It\u2019s like you want to keep all this under the radar. Have you even called Noel?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, but maybe Rob has. Look, Paul, I know you and Pop were really close, but that doesn\u2019t mean you get to call all the shots.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt means you do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPaul, I\u2019m getting things done<\/em>. If you had your way we\u2019d still be at dinner telling stories. We have all the time in the world to commemorate and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m just saying include me a little! And respect the fact that Pop still has a lot of friends who need to be notified, much less a surviving family that should be gathering together instead of going to the pool for a freakin\u2019 swim<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJesus, come on. You are way too stressed over all this. Look, you want something to do, go down to the firm and clean out Pop\u2019s office if they haven\u2019t done it already.\u201d<\/p>\n Paul nodded. The redness in his face started to clear. \u201cOkay, yeah. I\u2019ll leave Kendra here, though, okay? She needs to be around family.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about Rosehannah?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhatever. Okay, just go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCall me if there\u2019s anything else.\u201d<\/p>\n Paul drove up Nashville Avenue and picked out all the houses he had been inside. He\u2019d broken an arm in 855 in 1993. That was when the McEnroes lived there. So many old friends on this street and the numbers to go along with their faces. After-parties, dinner parties, poker games, and wakes. Houses that had changed hands with either strangers or generations and shifted colors but not value. Nashville was an avenue that knew better than to try and head deep into the city. It broke off at Fountainbleau and kept its own disconnected from all the bad elements northward, Paul thought. Safe from all that, the oak trees grew taller and thicker and spread more shade and underneath them the kids could play out front instead of locked inside. Paul sighed and tried to focus on something else besides the things he knew he could not remember, those unattained memories of raising a family on a street like this.<\/p>\n Continue Reading! Chapter 5: Truly Powerful Men<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Paul pulled up to the curb of Nashville Avenue and walked up the brick walkway to his little brother Joseph\u2019s front door. The giant two story house, from its storybook patterned shingles all the way down to the wraparound porch …<\/p>\n