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“You asked for it,” she muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening around the pulls.
With a decisive motion, she swung the doors open, revealing the room beyond. And as my eyes swept over the scene before me, I felt a chill run down my spine, my breath catching in my throat.
There, seated behind a desk, was my uncle, his head turned down as if engrossed in reading papers, a pen held loosely in his hand. But something was off. Something was terribly wrong.
Uncle was not alive, though. He was not breathing. He was not even moving. He was dead.
Shock washed over me in a wave, rendering me speechless as I stared at the macabre sight before me. My mind struggled to comprehend what I was seeing, to reconcile the image of my deceased uncle sitting there as if he were still alive.
Dorothy watched me closely, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern. “This is what your uncle wanted,” she explained softly, her words barely registering in my stunned mind.
“Jesus,” I whispered. “Yeah, that is pretty damn crazy.”
Dorothy swept her hand toward Uncle. “I know it’s pretty crazy, but Imogen did an amazing job.”
Now that I had experienced the shock of seeing Uncle upright and almost alive, I could appreciate what it had taken to make this happen. “This had to have taken hours,” I muttered. I tended to do more of the funeral preparations and not the body preparation back in Chicago, but I knew how hard of a task Imogen had.
“More like nine and a half hours.”
Dorothy and I both turned and saw a pregnant woman in the doorway.
This must be Imogen.
“You were quicker than I thought you would be,” Dorothy laughed. “And you managed to find clothes.”
Imogen rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Mace helped.”
Ah, the infamous Mace Dorothy had mentioned last night. I had been right in thinking that he was Imogen’s significant other.
Dorothy motioned to me. “This is Rocco.”
Imogen nodded at me. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. Dorothy told me you arrived last night. I’m sorry I wasn’t up when you got here.” She rubbed her swelling belly. “This little one seems to suck all of my energy, and working on Mr. Brooks yesterday just completely drained me.” She cringed and held up her hands. “Not as if your uncle wasn’t worth it, though.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m sure this amazing feat you managed was nothing less than exhausting. I can’t even wrap my head around how you managed to do it.”
“By herself,” Dorothy added. “Mr. Brooks insisted that Imogen be the only one to prepare his body.”
I looked back at Uncle, who looked frozen in time. “Even in death, he’s being rather difficult.”
Dorothy scoffed but didn’t say anything.
“Your uncle wasn’t difficult,” Imogen called. “He just… knew what he wanted.”
“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” I laughed. Uncle was difficult, but he always managed to temper it by being nice. Though, in death, that niceness didn’t seem to be coming through.
Dorothy held up her hands. “I will never talk bad about the dead. Your uncle gave me and Imogen a job, and I will forever be thankful to him for that. Even though he was a little difficult,” she whispered.
“Did you want some time with him alone?” Imogen asked. “Dorothy and I need to finish up prepping the rest of the programs, and the flower delivery should be here around ten thirty.”
I didn’t want to get in Dorothy and Imogen’s way. “You guys just do what you need to do. I can keep myself busy, and if you need my help, just let me know.”
“But you’re…” Dorothy trailed off.
“The new owner, but we don’t need to get into all of that today. I’ll just hang out in the background, and after the funeral, we can go over everything,” I offered.
Dorothy glanced at Imogen.
I held up my hands defensively. “I won’t be judging you guys either. Honestly, Uncle told me you guys are good at what you do. I’m just a family member today.”
