AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Ten
Philomena
Today’s wake was larger than the ones I was normally hired to attend. The funeral parlor overflowed with people coming to pay their last respects. As I looked around the room, I could see tears running down many people’s faces. The gentleman who passed away had obviously been loved dearly.
Most people would say this family had no reason to hire a professional mourner–plenty of people were hugging and weeping openly. They didn’t appear to need someone to break the emotional ice. But looks could be deceiving. Besides, it wasn’t my place to judge whether my services were necessary at a grieving gig. I was paid to attend this one because they wanted someone to cry and sob, but most of all, to be there for the widow.
The deceased had four prior wives, none of whom were remembered as particularly classy. I did my usual research before attending and found they had each been very vocal on social media and spoke ill about the deceased and the current wife. There was no doubt, the divorces hadn’t been civil by any means. I expected that would only be amplified if they chose to show up here where emotions were already running high.
The current widow and her family were concerned that one, if not all, would attend and make some embarrassing scene. That wasn’t going to happen on my watch. I stood by the widow’s side and made sure his ex-wives kept their distance. I had already stepped in twice to intervene. Once they started to raise their voices and talk rudely to the widow, it was my time to shine. I started bawling my eyes out, threw my arms around them, and hugged them until they felt uncomfortable and retreated to a corner.
I learned early on that outpacing their volume didn’t work–louder wasn’t necessarily better. However, demonstrating that I was crazier than they were? That worked every time. And for anyone who still refused to back away, I unleashed my secret weapon, a careful swipe of my runny nose on their sleeve or shoulder. Somehow being grossed out trumped being pissed off. Extreme? Maybe, but it was better than allowing fights to break out. A bouncer at a wake would stick out like a sore thumb. No one ever suspected me of being the real peacekeeper at these events. Quiet, tiny, little-ole me.
Since this was such a difficult time for the family, they had also asked me to give the eulogy tomorrow at the funeral. Since I didn’t know the guy, I asked the family a few questions, got a feel of the dearly departed, and planned to fill in with something nice. When I was at a loss for words, cranking up the waterworks was a sure thing. It didn’t matter what I said if they couldn’t understand me through choked-up tears.
But the eulogy was a worry for tomorrow, and I could write it later. Right now, the funeral parlor was still crowded and it was almost eight o’clock. I was supposed to call Clark. From the looks of it, that wouldn’t be possible. And since there were so many people here now, it wasn’t like I could whip out my cell phone and text him either.
Guess you and I aren’t meant to meet up.
I had no idea what he wanted to say that couldn’t be done on the phone. It’s not like I was going to fly all the way back up north to chat and it made no sense for him to come to Florida.
The funeral home director approached me and whispered, “There has been a last-minute flower delivery. I’m not sure what I should do with them. Would you like me to hold them in the back for you?”
It would be insulting to whoever sent them if they weren’t displayed. But there were so many flowers already. There was a spot to one side of the casket. I pointed and said, “Maybe there.”
“Are you sure you want your flowers there?” he asked.
It wasn’t like it was for me to decide, but I was sure the family didn’t care. They were busy trying to get people to leave. “Yes. Whatever it is, put them there.”
He nodded and went to retrieve the flowers. When he returned I regretted instructing him to do so. It was a huge bouquet of yellow daisies in a large yellow vase shaped like a smiley face.
Who the hell would send such a thing to a wake?
If I wasn’t being paid to stand here, I’d be walking over to check the card. One of the family members had the same thought. I watched as he pulled out the card and saw his jaw drop. “Who the hell is Clark?” he asked loudly, looking around the room as though hoping to spot the person.
Clark? It couldn’t be. It was impossible, yet something deep within me trembled, not sure if I wanted them to be from my Clark or not.
He held up the card and asked, “And why can’t he wait to see you tonight?”
He wasn’t looking at me, but at the widow next to me.
Oh, God.
I didn’t want to claim those flowers as mine, but to defend the widow’s honor, I had to.
“I’m sorry. I think those are mine” Everyone turned to look at me, including the widow.
“Yours?” she asked with a puzzled look on her face.
Not as shocked as me.
I still wasn’t positive, but there was one way to confirm. Does the card say PJ on it?”
He looked at the card to read it again, then nodded.
“That’s me. PJ Wilson.” I walked over, picked up the huge bouquet and said, “I’m so sorry. I have no idea why this is here.”
“Because Clark’s an insensitive ass,” he said angrily. He leaned closer to me and growled out, “Your services are no longer needed.”
