Death by Polka

Chapter 3

3When I walked back through the door of the banquet hall, I was nearly run over by a pack of charging kids. Twelve of them, to be exact--my twelve little nieces and nephews, otherwise known as the Attention Deficit Disorder Dozen, the ADHD Dozen for short.

That was what I called them, anyway. And believe me, the name fit like a glove. A glove that couldn’t sit still for more than thirty seconds at a time.

“Hey!” I grabbed the last one of the bunch by her upper arm and swung her around to face me. “Where’s the fire, Milly?”

Milly’s bone china face was flushed from running. She panted, letting out puffs of breath that sent her jet black bangs fluttering. “They’re gonna tell us any minute! The big surprise, Auntie Lottie!” Like the rest of the ADHD Dozen, she wasn’t a day over eight. She was the oldest at seven and a half or three quarters, I couldn’t remember which.

I sighed and looked across the hall. The band had stopped playing, though Eddie Kubiak Sr. and Eddie Jr. still stood at opposite corners of the stage with accordions at the ready. Between them stood Basil Sloveski, my dad’s attorney. Basil was a tan little guy in platform shoes and a sharp black suit with a gold pinstripe. His stiff pompadour was the subject of the worst ongoing dye job in history; his hair was so perfectly, light-suckingly black, it looked like he’d been dipped upside-down in a tub of tar.

“What’s it gonna be, Auntie Lottie?” Milly wriggled in my grasp, overcome with excitement. “What do you think?”

There were lots of possibilities, but I didn’t bother running through them. “I guess we’ll find out soon, honey.” With that, I let go of Milly’s arm, and she shot away from me into the crowd like a bottle rocket in a black dress and stocking feet.

Just then, I heard Polish Peg clear her throat behind me. “They’re waiting for us, Lottie.”

For a moment, I’d forgotten she was back there. Turning, I slipped her a scowl. “Waiting for us to do what?”

“Get up there.” Peg stepped up beside me and pointed at the stage. “Lou wanted us both on stage when Basil makes his announcement.”

Already I didn’t like where this was headed. “Us? On stage?”

Peg pushed up her polka dot eyeglasses and nodded. “That’s what the instructions called for. Your dad was very specific. He’d given this a lot of thought.”

“Seriously?” I shook my head. “Not gonna happen. I can hear perfectly fine from back here.”

“Lottie.” Peg fixed me in her fly-eyed gaze. “Please just do this. For your father. Just get it over with.”

I was about to put my foot down for good when I heard my ex-boyfriend Eddie Jr.’s voice over the P.A. system. “There they are! In the back!”

Next came Eddie Sr.’s gravelly bass voice. “Let’s hear it for Polish Peg and Lottie, everyone!” He reeled off some notes on his accordion. “Get on up here, girls! We’ll play your fanfare!”

With that, both Eddies launched into a number, an accordion duet that sounded like a riff from “The Beer Barrel Polka.” All eyes in the room turned on us, and the crowd exploded with applause.

Peg gave me a look that said it all. And I knew she was right; I didn’t have a choice anymore.

Taking a deep breath, I gathered myself up and managed a weak smile. It would have to be enough, because I didn’t feel like smiling even that much.

I looked at Peg and waved for her to go first. She was the celebrity, after all; she’d been co-hosting a radio show with Lou for thirteen years now, co-managing his band, and co-organizing the annual Polkapourri festival. People were crazy about her in Johnstown...people who weren’t in my family, that is. She was practically royalty.

People beamed and applauded as they opened a path to the stage. Peg waved as she passed, walking with her peculiar bandy-legged, boyish swagger.

I followed, wishing with all my heart that I was somewhere else. Wishing that this day, this month, this year had never happened. Things had been going so well for so long, and now here I was, back in the town I’d worked so hard to get away from, at my dead father’s wake.

And I had to go up on stage with Polish Peg for God knew what surprise, when all I wanted to do was find a dark motel room and a carton of cigarettes and cry like a baby for a week.

When I caught sight of my mother near the stage, I knew she was on the same wavelength. My stomach ached just to see the look on her face; I wanted to put my arms around her at that instant and not let go.

Though Lou had left her fifteen years ago for a younger woman, Mom was still deeply shaken by his death. She looked as shell-shocked as she’d been the day he’d walked away from her. She looked utterly and completely lost.

I held her gaze for a moment as I walked past. As crazy as she made me sometimes--especially tag-teaming with my grandmother, Baba Tereska--I still loved her with all my heart. I hated to see her upset like that.

I hated my dad a little, too, for not thinking of her when he planned this polka party nonsense. For not thinking of any of us who just needed to grieve without being part of a spectacle. As usual, he hadn’t been able to resist playing the showman.

It was something he had in common with Eddie Kubiak, Sr. As Peg and I drew up to the edge of the stage, Eddie Sr. cranked out a blistering accordion riff, rocking back and forth with furious intensity. When he’d finished, he flung his arms in the air and shouted over the roaring crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen! Panie i panowie! Let’s hear it for the one and only Polish Peg Bohachik and Lottie Kachowski!”

Eddie Sr. took Peg’s hand and pulled her up onto the stage. Eddie Jr. did the same for me, which was the first time we’d touched in twelve years. He let go and looked away as soon as both of my feet were on the stage.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” Eddie Sr. threw his arm around Peg’s shoulders and pumped his fist in the air. “It’s time to experience the last big secret surprise of the late, great Polish Lou!”