Page 25 of The Dearly Departed

Fuck.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t do emotions.

“You don’t have to tell me who she was,” he went on quietly. “I’ll leave it alone. But if you want to talk, if you want to—"

“I know,” I muttered. “You’re there.”

He reached out and gripped my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze as he said, “I am. Always.”

Then, as we pulled into the driveway with little Travis McDonald, the sky opened up, and the rain began to fall, washing away every bit of hope that I’d one day find one of the only little sparks I’d ever known.

Anna.

Closing my eyes, I pictured her, screaming and reaching out for me. Her stuffed rabbit tumbling from her arms and onto the floor.

God, I hope she turned out okay.

CHAPTER FOUR

Age Nineteen

I stood just inside the door of The Llewellyn Family Funeral Home, wearing one of the two suits Leonard had bought for me and feeling more like myself than I ever had.

Although I wasn’t yet a licensed mortician, I was well on my way at nineteen, already working through my associate’s degree, and Leonard was now comfortable having me oversee the viewings as his official apprentice.

A room full of grieving family members was off to my left, in the same room where I’d waited for Leonard when that police officer brought my brothers and me back after I’d stolen cigarettes from the gas station.

I hadn’t been in trouble with the law since then. Somehow, I had managed to keep myself on a straighter path throughout the last couple of years, all for the sole purpose of giving Leonard a reason to look at me with approval and pride.

But I itched for trouble.

There was nothing about being good that satisfied that itch.

I tamped it down though, managing to stifle that little voice in my head, saying to swipe something at the store. I guessed it was my conscience and sense of maturity growing louder as I grew older, and I hoped that, one day, maybe I could silence that craving for trouble altogether.

The front door of the funeral home opened, bringing in the sounds of the outside world to add to the classical melodies playing inside. In walked two women, dressed in black, and judging from their clothes and the fact that there was only one wake on the schedule, I knew what had brought them in tonight.

But still, I asked in my gentlest voice, “Good evening, ladies. Can I help you?”

One of the two women didn’t bother to look in my direction as she gestured toward the open doors of the viewing room while the other was already wandering into the throng of mourners.

“We’re just here for the Malloy wake,” she said with a genteel smile and a nod.

Bowing my head, I replied, “Of course.”

She walked away, and I sighed, turning toward the stairs and pacing the few steps before turning around to face the door again.

I wished someone else were around tonight to deal with the public.

Leonard was out with a friend of his. Shawn was working on a paper for one of his classes. Ike was supposedly working on homework, but I had a feeling he just didn’t feel like keeping me company.

The wakes only lasted a couple of hours each. Luckily, Leonard had said he’d be back before it was over, but the time was dragging at an insufferable pace, and I was growing more bored by the second.

I glanced at the clock to find that only five minutes had passed since I’d last checked.

Some nights were more eventful than others. There was more to do, more problems to address and more to handle. Unfortunately, tonight wasn’t one of those.

“Excuse me.”