Andy said, "What the hell, we're on Long Island, right? I'll have a Long Island Iced Tea."
They thought that one up after I stopped drinking, so I never learned what's in it, but I gather it contains a mix of liquors, and that tea's nowhere to be found. The name's ironic, and I suppose it's a reference to rum-running during Prohibition, which would make it doubly ironic, since the kids who get wasted on it can't even remember Vietnam.
The drinks came. Andy sipped his and pronounced it a stupid drink. "Who thought this up?" he wondered. "It's supposed to have a kick like a mule but it doesn't taste like anything at all. I suppose that's the point, especially if you're nineteen years old and looking to get your girlfriend drunk." He took another sip and said, "It grows on you. I was going to say this is my first Long Island Iced Tea and it's going to be my last, but maybe not. Maybe I'll finish it and have six more of them."
"And maybe you won't," his brother said. "Gray needs us back at the house."
"Is that what you call him? Gray?"
"It's what Mom called him," Andy said. "I never had much occasion to call him anything, really. Just if he answered the phone when I called, or the couple of times I visited."
"Which would have been four years ago," I said.
"Plus once since then."
"Oh?"
"I guess it was last Thanksgiving. I never did come into the city, I just visited here for a couple of days and flew straight out again." He looked at his glass. "I called you a few times," he said unconvincingly. "I got the machine every time I called, and I didn't want to leave a message."
I said, "He seems like a nice enough fellow, Gray."
"He's all right," Andy said.
"He was good for Mom," Michael said. "He was there for her, you know?"
Unlike some people. "I never thought I'd see this day," I said, surprising myself with the words, evidently surprising them as well from the looks on their faces. "I always assumed I'd go first," I explained. "I didn't think about it much, but I guess I took it for granted. I was older by three years and change, and men generally die first. And all of a sudden she's gone."
They didn't say anything.
"Everybody says that's the best way," I said. "One minute you're here and the next minute you're gone. No pain to speak of, no long-drawn-out illness, no standing at the brink and staring out at the abyss. But it's not what I would want for myself."
"No?"
I shook my head. "I'd want time to make sure I wasn't leaving a mess. My affairs in order, that sort of thing. And I'd want time for other people to get used to the idea. A sudden death may be easier on the victim, but it's harder on everybody else."
"I don't know about that," Michael said. "June's got an aunt with Alzheimer's, she's been hanging on for years. Be a lot easier on all concerned if she stroked out or had a heart attack."
I said he had a point. Andy said when it was his turn he wanted to be lowered into a vat of lanolin and softened to death. That seemed funny, but not funny enough to laugh at, given the mood at the table.
"Anyway," Michael said, "we had a warning. Mom had a minor heart attack about a little over a year ago."
"I didn't know that."
"I didn't hear about it right away. She and Gray didn't exactly call a press conference. But she had diabetes and high blood pressure, and- "
"I didn't know that, either."
"You didn't? I guess she developed diabetes about ten years ago. I don't know about the blood pressure, how long she had that. I believe you can have it a while without knowing it. The diabetes was mild enough so she didn't need injections, just oral insulin, but I guess it affects the heart, and so does the high blood pressure. She had the one heart attack, and it was just a question of time until she had another one, but I didn't expect it this soon."
"I thought she'd beat it," Andy said. "She seemed fine at Thanksgiving, and she and Gray were full of plans. There was this riverboat cruise through Germany they were going to take."
"It's next month," his brother said. "They were going to leave right after Labor Day."
"Well, I guess that's out," Andy said. "Maybe you can use their tickets, you and Elaine."
There was an awkward silence, and then he said, "Sorry, I don't know why I said that." He picked up his glass and looked at the ceiling light through it. I thought of all the times I'd done that myself, though never with a glass of Long Island Iced Tea. "This stuff ought to come with a warning label. I'm sorry."
"Forget it."
"Anyway, I don't suppose Elaine would want to go to Germany, would she?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, she's Jewish, isn't she?"
"So?"
"So she might not be that crazy about going to Germany. She might be worried about getting turned into soap."
Michael said, "Andy, why don't you shut up?"
"Hey, it was just a joke, okay?"
"A stupid joke."
"Nobody likes my jokes," Andy said. "Soap, lanolin, I can't win. Nobody likes my jokes today."
"It's not a great day for jokes, bro."
"Just what is it a great day for, bro? Will you tell me that?"
"I guess you guys'll want to get back to the house," I said, not knowing what they wanted to do, not caring much, knowing only that I wanted to get the hell out of there. "Gray can probably use you for the next few hours."
"Gray," Andy said. "You ever meet him?"
"Just now, at the funeral."
"I figured you were old friends, calling him Gray and all."
I turned to Michael. "I think you'd better drive," I said.
"Andy's all right."