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“Yes, I want her cremated.”
The skinny man in the dark suit sitting on the other side of the funeral home desk frowned again and held out the burial policy he’d been showing me for the past fifteen minutes. “But, Mr. Mavic— “
“Captain Mavic,” I shot back. “Mr. Mavic was my old man.”
He kept frowning as his eyes grazed across my shoulders as if he was looking for some indication of rank on my black t-shirt. I guessed he was used to dealing with grieving families and assholes like me. He cleared his throat and forced a smile. His teeth were the color of ash.
“Yes, well, Captain Mavic, your mother had a policy that covers a casket, flowers, service and burial.” He held up the piece of paper again and tapped a skinny finger to my mother’s chicken scratch signature at the bottom. “Everything is paid in full. All you have to do is pick out a casket within the policy range, the spray of flowers, the headstone, and we’ll do the rest.”
“I want her cremated,” I said again.
“Well, yes, I know you keep saying that, but…”
I held up a hand and his mouth snapped closed. I leaned into the desk and narrowed my eyes at him. He leaned back in the chair as if the weight of my gaze was pushing him. “How much did my mother pay for that policy you’re holding in your hand?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he fiddled with the policy. “Well, let’s see… the total investment… was two-thousand-five-hundred dollars.”
“And how much do you charge just to cremate a body and dispose of it?”
“Well, that’s around two hundred dollars.”
“So, if you do what I’m asking you to do, you’re twenty-three hundred dollars to the good.”
His tongue darted across his thin lips like a snake testing the air for the scent of something to eat. “Well, yes, but we do not offer refunds on burial policies, Mr.— er— Captain Mavic.”
“I’m not asking for a refund,” I said, putting my palms on his desk to push myself out of the chair. “I’m telling you to cremate the body and do away with the ashes. You can keep what you’ve been paid.”
“Oh… well… yes, then that’s not a problem.” He opened the desk drawer and took out another form and slid it across the desk and held out a pen. “If you’ll just sign here I’ll get that taken care of today.”
I signed the form and handed back the pen. As I started for the door, he cleared his throat yet again and held up a stiff finger.
“Captain Mavic, don’t you want to at least see your mother’s body?”
I paused at the door for a moment with my hand on the knob. Without turning around, I shook my head, opened the door, and left him sitting there with his mouth hanging open and a tidy profit in his pocket
Uncle Seth called just as I got back into the car. I tapped the phone and Uncle Seth’s voice came through the speakers.
“Hey, Shane, how are you feeling today?” he asked.
“Better,” I said, putting on my sunglasses and leaning my head back against the rest. “Thanks for asking. What’s up?”
“Wilma wants to know if you’d like to come to dinner tonight? She’s making a pot roast.”
“Tell Wilma thanks, but I’m really not up to socializing. Maybe tomorrow or this weekend if she’s willing to give me a raincheck.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” he said. “She’s also onboard for the yard sale. She said she can come up first thing Monday to start sorting through.”
“Good, I appreciate that. You want the car and the truck?”
“Dang, Seth, don’t you want to try and sell them?”
“Nope. I just need them gone.”
“Okay, I’ll try to get them out of your way this weekend.” I heard him sigh. His voice went down a notch. “Have you had a chance to talk to the funeral home yet?”
“Just leaving there now,” I said as I started the car and pulled through the lot. “They are going to cremate her and dispose of the ashes.”
“You sure you don’t want a service and burial?”
