The Space Between “My” and “Friend”

None of us knew about Marianne until the funeral. Grandma was dead, having outlived her in-laws, her son, and his wife. She'd lived a full life, cliche as it was to say.

She'd grown so old and withered that we often forgot she'd been young once. She'd been alive for so long she couldn't remember parts of her life from the beginning, from the middle.

And yet when she went, in her sleep, we couldn't help but feel that it was unfair, even as we knew it wasn't. She'd had more time than most. She'd lived a few years past a hundred. She'd done so much with her life.

There were no speeches at the funeral about how she was gone too soon, how she hadn't done everything she wanted. There was only talk of her long, full life. Her legacy; six grandchildren and one grandchild, with two more on the way, and numerous friends and acquaintances. And all the well-wishers. A large family home in the country. A furniture business worth hundreds of millions.

The funeral was held at the family home in the country. Large as it was, it appeared to be teeming with people. We'd invited as many people as we could, and still there were many more we could have invited, but for lack of space. The house was filled with people and still they weren't even up to a fraction of the people that knew her, loved her.

It was in that house, where we and all those people had come together to mourn a death and celebrate a life well lived, that we first learned of the existence of Marianne.

There we were, standing in a corner of the enormous living room in a loose circle, us Andersson kids six. Luca, the oldest at thirty-one. Carl or Carlisle, twenty-nine. Twenty-seven-year-old Elke, named for Elke Sommer, an actress our mother loved. Theo, short for Theodore, twenty-four. Me, Rainer, commonly referred to as Rain, twenty-two. And our youngest, Philip--Flip to us and Phil to everyone else, nineteen years old.

It was the first time we'd been alone together, just us, since people started arriving. We spent the time alternating between trading stories about Grandma and lapsing into silence as we each recalled our own memories of her.

Someone came in through the doorway, and there was a, well, not a hush, but a dimming of conversation.

I noticed her first. From where I stood, I had a clear view of the arched double doorway.

She was stunning. She had the kind of beauty that reminded you of Old Hollywood starlets, soft and sultry, even without visible makeup. She was dressed in a simple black dress and simple black heels, and still she was the loveliest person in the room. She also looked out of place, like she belonged in a catalog for ladies' funeral wear, in spite of her simple outfit. But it wasn't the outfit, it was her. People were staring, but she didn't pay them any mind.

She stood there in the doorway. Her lips were bare and her eyes were searching. I stared at her, fascinated, until it occurred to me that she might have been looking for one of us.

"Who's that?" asked Flip, to my left.

"Who?" Elke took a sip of her drink.

"In the doorway," said Flip.

Luca peered over the top of Carl's head. "Huh."

Elke and Carl twisted around to look.

"Oh wow," said Elke.

"I think she's looking for one of us," mused Carl.

"Not me." This came from Flip. "I wish she was though," he added wistfully.

Carl shrugged. "Don't look at me, I'm married. Happily."

"Same here," said Luca.

"Well, she's here for somebody," I said. "Theo?"

We all looked at Theo. Theo, who'd had his back to the doorway the whole time, turned around. And froze.

And there it was. She was here for him.

She spotted him almost as soon as he set eyes on her. She smiled then, unsure, and started toward us.

Theo stood there, unmoving. We, on the other hand, retreated further into the corner, close enough to exchange pleasantries with her, far enough to give them some room. Probably not far enough though.

She stopped in front of Theo.

We watched them curiously, as did other eyes in the room. Questions formed and burned in our minds. Seconds passed. Neither of them spoke.

"Christ this is awkward," muttered Carl, which earned him an elbow in the ribs from Elke who hissed, "Shush."

It was the woman who spoke first. "Hello, Theo.”

"Hello."

It was quite formal. I wondered if she was a coworker, or an acquaintance. Or an ex.

He didn't look happy to see her, but he also didn't look mad. He seemed tense. He clearly hadn't been expecting her. But she was here now, and didn't seem to know what to do about it.

"I heard, and-I wasn't sure if I should call first. I thought, maybe, it would be better to come and... I thought that being here in person would be better."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

There was a flash of something in his eyes as he stared at her, and then it was gone.

"Thank you," he said.

We wanted to ask who she was, but we held ourselves in check, waiting to be introduced. Rather, all but one of us.

"Hi," chirped Elke.

Theo turned to us as if suddenly remembering we were there. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking not quite sheepish, but close.

"Right, um...these are my siblings. And um, guys, this is Marianne."

Marianne. We'd none of us heard him mention a Marianne. Not even Elke, with whom he was closest. But that was Theo. He kept things close. We were still learning not to take it personally.

He introduced us from oldest to youngest, and we each shook hands with her. She had soft hands. A firm grip, but hands that were soft and smooth like I imagined a princess's would be.

Theo spoke. "So, this is my family. But we're a few members short."

"Yeah, about two wives and a kid, with two more on the way," I said.

Marianne nodded."Oh."

"Luca's married with a kid and another on the way. Carl's also married and expecting his first kid," Elke explained.

"I know," said Marianne.

She knew.

Before we could comment on it, before we could even really think about it (she knew. She knew) she smiled at Carl and said, “Congratulations.”

Carl smiled back. "Thank you."

"It's lovely to meet you all," she said. "I'm so sorry about your grandmother."

"Thank you," said Luca on our behalf.

"How do you know Theo?" asked Flip, and I could have shaken him by the shoulders. From the look on our siblings’ faces, I wasn’t the only one who’d had the thought.

Marianne and Theo exchanged a look.

"She's my...friend," offered Theo.

We wondered about the space between "my" and "friend" but knew better than to ask about it.

Marianne turned back to Theo, and said, so softly we might not have heard her if we weren't actively listening, "I'm so sorry, Theo."

We didn't know if she was talking about Grandma's death or about something else, or both.

There was something about the way she said it. And what happened next. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek and his eyes closed. Only briefly, but it was enough. We knew.

We'd seen something in his eyes, just before they closed. A softness, a melting, a longing. And we knew.

We knew there was a lot between "my" and "friend" that he hadn’t mentioned. We knew she was someone important enough that he should have told us about her. And we knew that whatever she was to him, whatever they were to each other, it was so much more than we could have imagined.

We knew, and still it wasn’t enough. We wanted to know more. It seemed like he’d told her about us. What had he mentioned? She knew about us and we knew nothing about her because he’d kept her a secret for who knew how long.

And it hurt.

But that was Theo. Theo kept things close. It was how he’d always been.

We were still learning not to take it personally.