A Tale of the Black Widower
Ivan Latreille chimed internally. The 6-foot-tall, brown-skinned, dark-haired, and ruggedly handsome, forty-something Afro-Canadian man studied his reflection and grinned. He wore a sombre black suit, white silk shirt, black tie, and black dress pants. These were suitable attire for a funeral. Nine days prior, Ivan's infidelious wife Deirdre Watson passed away in a car accident with her lover Stephen Stewart, the scoundrel she was cheating with. Although Ivan had no involvement in the collision, he was elated with the outcome. Widowhood is substantially more affordable than divorce...
"See you soon, Harriet," Ivan mentioned to his petite dog. The white animal loudly barked at its master. Ivan tarried at home, filling Harriet's three water bowls and providing abundant food. He filled bowls with beef jerky, goat meat, and chicken. Tiny dogs do consume a substantial amount. Ivan abhorred most people's companionship since he considers the human species reprehensible. Ivan does not self-identify as a sociopath. He is simply a realist. He exited to attend to some unpleasant undertaking. Time does not halt for anyone, after all...
Ivan got into his car, a red SUV, and drove to meet a specific group of well-dressed idiots (also known as friends and family) at the church. Ivan's 20+ years of marriage to Deirdre Watson birthed a son and a daughter. The son, Junior, was in his second year at McGill University in Montreal, Quebec, residing with his partner Sebastien Dugue. The daughter, Darlene, finished college and was employed as a stripper while also complaining about contemporary feminism. These days, Darlene belonged to that faction of females who preferred the company of bears over men. Perhaps Darlene should journey alone in the woods one of these days, in bear territory, and observe what transpires...
The church of Good Hope, located in downtown Ottawa, is proximate to the Rideau Shopping Centre. Ivan reserved the structure for Deirdre's funeral. Ivan borrowed the mall's car parking and strolled a few blocks to the church. Every coin counts in Ottawa, correct? He entered and encountered friends, relatives, and acquaintances. Maintaining a sombre facial expression, Ivan clasped hands, embraced individuals, dispensed comforting words, and accepted words of support and encouragement. Ivan wished to emit to the mountain peaks that he was overjoyed Deirdre passed away, but that would be inappropriate.
"I simply cannot fathom that Deirdre, my cherished wife and ally, is no longer with us," Ivan said to his brother-in-law Robert Watson. Must Robert now be Ivan's former brother-in-law? Ivan pondered as he maintained a sad expression while shaking Robert's hand. How long does a handshake last, anyhow? The chubby, blond-haired, and green-eyed oaf reciprocated an unwarranted embrace with Ivan. Ivan disliked Robert, yet was courteous to him during their extended communal experience. Ivan thus embraced Robert and patted him on the back.
"I'm here if you need anything, Ivan," Robert said, visibly moved. Ivan nodded sagely and then politely excused himself. A short distance away, at the church's front, the offspring congregated. Ivan acknowledged Junior and Darlene, who were with their companions. Junior was a tall, lanky, brown-skinned, and dark-haired man present with his boyfriend Sebastien Dugue. A former football player turned fitness trainer, Sebastien was an imposing figure. Ivan greeted Junior, shaking hands with Sebastien.
"We are stunned, Dad," Junior said to his father, Ivan, as he embraced him again. Sebastien observed as Ivan effectively hugged Junior and shook hands with Sebastien. Ivan patted Junior on the shoulder and then traversed to his daughter. Cold as ever, Darlene observed her surroundings. Ivan nodded at Darlene and half-heartedly embraced her. Ivan almost ignored Darlene's current boyfriend, a tall, white man named Charles. Charles is a type of male feminist and vegetarian who Darlene approves of. As with the previous individual, whose name Ivan could not recall, he knew Darlene must be cheating on Charles with a macho truck driver named Scott. Isn't life marvelous?
"I cannot conceive she's gone," Darlene said, and Charles concurred. Tall and slender, with brown skin and dark hair, Darlene's characteristics paralleled her mother Deirdre's. Darlene bore a resemblance to her mom Deirdre not only in looks but also in disposition. Deirdre Watson was an ice queen, and many speculated Ivan married her for her money. Things could not be further from the truth. People had no inkling of Deirdre's behaviour's unbearability. Alpha-type females abhor Alpha men but prefer Beta men. Ergo, Darlene dated Charles here.
"Dude, if you need anything," Charles interrupted Ivan's thoughts. Ivan glanced at Charles. The tall, slender, red-haired, and green-eyed guy looked sincere. Ivan gave Charles a pat on the shoulder and pondered why he was such a moron. Charles was a representative of the contemporary male in Western society. The dimwit worked for the Canadian government as an analyst in the Canada Revenue Agency, yet seemed okay with having a girlfriend who dropped out of college one credit short of her MBA to become a stripper. Modern women are nuts and modern men are weak. Ivan despised both Darlene and Charles. He had to get away from them as soon as possible...
"Fine, son, take care of Darlene for me," Ivan replied with a plastic smile. He nodded at the sneaky Darlene and Charles the weakling and headed off to meet with the Priest. The Priest involved, Father Jean-Paul Meunier, a chubby, balding Montrealer with icy blue eyes, greeted Ivan like they had known each other since forever. Ivan shook hands with Father Meunier, and the old man offered some wisdom in the form of priestly sayings. Priests officiate Baptisms, Weddings, and Funerals all the time, so it's no wonder they always know what to say.
"During these difficult times, religion is what you must rely on, my child," Father Meunier mentioned. Ivan thanked the priest, and the ceremony commenced. Ivan was seated up front with his problematic son, his sorceress daughter, and their unimportant companions. The church was full of Deirdre's former friends, relatives, and coworkers. Deirdre had spent years at Statistics Canada and had many acquaintances there. Ivan didn't care for Canadian government employees - they beat you over the head with their dedication to inclusivity only to treat you poorly because you're not like them. Hypocrites.
"It's the little things in life that bring the most joy," Ivan mused. He smiled at the incredible irony of the situation. Ivan and Deirdre were on the brink of divorce until fate interfered. At the front of the church, Deirdre Watson lay in her coffin. Deirdre was a looker, tall, blonde, and slender with a great ass; she resembled Jill Kelly, a famous porn actress. Ivan and Deirdre met at Carleton University in Ottawa, and they had an incredible romance. Ivan, the handsome, athletic Haitian immigrant, and Deirdre, the composed blonde beauty, made for a stunning couple. Life is fantastic...until it isn't. Now Deirdre Watson is deceased. Life is fantastic...for Ivan!
Following the funeral, Deirdre Watson was laid to rest at Notre Dame Cemetery in the East End of Ottawa. Ivan had fond memories of that area. Ivan insisted on having the shovel that placed the first scoop of dirt on Deirdre's coffin. While Ivan looked somber, inside he was elated. The witch was gone. Ivan had attained freedom. In his college years, prior to meeting Deirdre, Ivan spent a ton of cash on hookers in the Vanier district. The area was full of hot French Canadian women, mysterious Lebanese women, and wild African women. Ivan missed those stress-free days. He had a lot of sex with numerous hookers and never returned to any of them. Good times. Of course, marriage ruined everything.
Three days after the funeral, Ivan took a break from work. The Neiderman Corporation, Ivan's workplace for the past sixteen years, didn't mind one bit. Ivan scrutinized his various bank accounts. His Scotia Bank account contained $16,400. His Royal Bank of Canada account held $54,780. His Toronto-Dominion Bank account amounted to $28,666. Not half bad. Deirdre was worth $300,000, but she left it all for Junior and Darlene, not Ivan. The witch still managed to make his life a living nightmare, even in death.
"Time for a holiday," Ivan mused. He hunted for flights to the Caribbean and found some. After a few days, Ivan and his dog Harriet were lounging on the beach in Cuba. There were breathtaking women in bikinis of different shades, and Ivan reveled in the view. Havana cocktails in hand, Ivan swung in a hammock as the dog consumed some tasty beef stew. Ditching Ottawa felt great. Ivan felt like leaving all his troubles behind. If he never encountered his idiotic son Junior, his sorceress daughter Darlene, his jerk of a brother-in-law Robert, or his colleagues at Neiderman Corps again, it would happen too soon. Time to try life again...
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