The Tale of Frank Vandenberg

"It's good to see you again," Marty said, shaking Randy's hand. "How is your painting coming along?"

Randy smiled broadly. "It's a slow and steady process, but it's coming along. There are seven of us working on it now."

"You need seven people to create one painting?" Jane asked. "It must be incredibly complex."

Randy shook his head. "Nah, it's just a paint-by-numbers. It's mostly me doing the painting, but I like to have the others around to let me know when I'm painting outside the lines."

Jane nodded her head slowly, but it was evident she was humoring him. Randy excused himself, and soon thereafter another man plodded slowly toward them with the aid of a walker.

"Jane, this is..."

"You can just call me Walt," the man said, extending his hand. "I prefer to remain anonymous. You never know who might be listening around here."

Jane and Marty exchanged curious looks as Walt surveyed his surroundings.

"I just want to tell you both I cherished your father deeply," Walt continued. "He was a good, good man. And he had such a vivid imagination! Why, the other fellas and I just loved it when he would tell his stories! He had a new one ready for us all the time, and we would enjoy it so much. He really had a way with words."

"I didn't know Dad had a creative side to him," Jane said. "What type of stories would he tell?"

"Well..." Walt began with some hesitance, "all of his stories were about the same thing, but he would change things here and there to keep it interesting."

"And what were they about?" Jane pressed.

Walt looked at Marty, and then back at Jane. "I don't mean any disrespect to your mom—"

"Oh, you can freely disrespect her," Jane interrupted. "That's fine with me."

Walt smiled. "Well, okay, then. See his stories were all about your mom cheating on him. He would get so angry! You should've seen him! And boy, sometimes he'd get so angry he'd end up killing her -- in his stories, mind you. Most times, he would just tell us all about how he left her, how he got his revenge, how he divorced her, and things of that nature."

"And...you actually enjoyed listening to the same stories over and over again?" Marty asked.

"We sure did!"

"Can I ask...why?"

Walt appeared confused for a moment, and looked from one sibling to the other. "Well, I guess you could say we formed something of a club. We all have ex-wives, you see, and they all screwed us over royally. Of course, in real life we never got our revenge, and our ex-wives ended up with everything. But in Frank's stories, Luanne would always get her comeuppance, and Frank would always end up happily ever after with someone much prettier and nicer. I guess you can say we all got our vicarious revenge through your father's stories."

Marty cocked his head to the side and squinted. "How...sad," he observed.

"Yes, well, whatever it takes to get this old man's blood flowing again, you know?"

They watched as Walt slowly proceeded toward the open casket to pay his respects. Marty glanced over to the other side of the room where his wife and children quietly sat and stared at their cellphones. Jane followed his line of vision and smiled.

"How are they doing?" she asked.

Marty smiled. "They're good. Ben is finishing up his senior year, and will get his degree in the spring. Katie is working at a hospital in the city."

"I'm very happy for you," Jane stated.

"And...how is Samantha?"

Jane sighed. "Probably stripping at a club somewhere. Or off living in a camper with her deadbeat father. Who knows."

"I'm sorry," Marty said.

"Don't be. It's what happens when you grew up in a dysfunctional family like ours. If Mom hadn't left us to run off with that asshole, I imagine all our lives would be very different today."

"Janey, that was thirty years ago. You have to let it go."

"Let it go? I'm forty-five years old, I've been divorced twice already, and I can't see husband number three showing up any time soon! I'm going to live the rest of my days alone, and it's all that woman's fault!"

"How is it her fault?"

"She chose her lover over her family! What type of woman does that? And what type of impression do you think that left on me? Everything I know about marriage I learned from that woman."

"She had her reasons for leaving Dad, Janey. You can't keep blaming her for the choices you've made in life."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Perfect. Happily-married, with two wonderful kids. You'll never end up in a place like this, surrounded by creepy old men." She waved her hands and swiveled her head around the room, and then froze in place. With her hands still held in the air, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. "I cannot believe she showed up here."

The woman strode toward them, looking solemn, yet smiling politely. Still beautiful in her old age, she was dressed immaculately and carried herself with a quiet dignity. She kissed and hugged Marty, and then turned toward her daughter.

"Jane, it's good to see you," Luanne said. "It's been a long time." She seemed to consider leaning in for a hug, but thought better of it.

"I can't believe you have the nerve to come to this," Jane said.

"He was my husband," Luanne said, "and the father of my children. Of course I'm here to pay my respects just like everyone else."

"Respects," Jane repeated with a laugh. "You never respected him a day in your life. Why now?"

Luanne shook her head sadly. "Your father was a very different man when we married. He was funny and confident, and driven to succeed. He had plans for his future, and I was so happy that he wanted me to be a part of that future. We were very happy together in the beginning, but that all changed when your grandfather died."

"Yeah, you mean the money died," Jane spat. "As soon as that business went under, you started heading for the door."

"That wasn't a factor," Luanne stated. "I promised to be true to your father for richer or poorer. I loved that man, and would have lived in a cardboard box with him if it came to that. But he changed, Jane. I know you don't want to believe it, but he did. He became angry and bitter, and the depression ate away at him from the inside-out. He was drunk more often than not. And he became verbally abusive, both to me and you kids."

"He was a good father," Jane insisted.

Luanne nodded. "He was...for a while. But, Jane, he became a danger to himself and to our family."

"Oh, so you left him to protect us, then? Is that it? It had nothing to do with Joe?"

"I fell in love with Joe while I was still married to your father. That's true. In my mind, my marriage was already over by then. For a while, I thought it was best to remain married for the sake of you kids. I tried to work it out with your father, but he was too far gone. He wouldn't listen to me, and he refused to work on our marriage. When I started earning more than he did, he became jealous and more abusive."

"Well, thank God for Joe swooping in and saving the day, huh?"

"I didn't mean to fall in love with him, Jane. No one ever means to fall in love; it just happens. It's important for you to know, though, that we didn't act on those feelings until after our divorces were settled. Despite what your father has told you, I never betrayed him."

"Bullshit," Jane spat.

The two women stood for a moment, staring at each other. The daughter's expression was filled with rage, while the mother's showed pity. At last, Luanne turned to face her son.

"Thank you for everything you did for him," she said. "I know how difficult it must have been for you. But I know that your father appreciated having you visit him so often."

"Even though he didn't always know who I was," Marty chuckled. "And when he did recognize me, he thought I was nine years old."

Luanne smiled. "He always loved you, Marty. You were the bright light in his gloomy world."

They embraced once more, and Luanne strode toward the casket. She lowered herself to her knees and placed her hands gently on the side of the casket. She placed a hand on her ex-husband's chest and held it there for a moment as she gazed at his face. Her eyes watered, and she swallowed hard.

"My sweet husband," she whispered. "After all this time, the anger is gone. You've finally found peace."