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“Oh, thank you so much, Samuel. This means a lot to me,” Debbie adds before, yep, you guessed it, pulling me into another tight hug. “Mom’s spirit will fly free thanks to this woman.”
“I bet she will,” I mumble, standing perfectly still as the woman finishes her hug. Before she completely removes her hands from my body, however, she reaches up and adjusts the knot on my tie. My heart stops in my chest as this woman paws all over my perfectly executed double Windsor.
Completely horrified, I gently pull back, reaching up automatically and tweaking the soft silk tie. I can tell the tie is askew and not at all where it should be. The tightness in my throat is almost choking as I try not to make a big show of moving it back into place.
“You’re such a handsome man, Samuel. I can’t believe you haven’t married yet,” Debbie says, heading over to the mirror and adding a second coat of a light lipstick.
“Guests will start to arrive any moment. I’m going to greet those attending at the front door,” I state professionally, completely glossing over her comment as if I didn’t hear her.
Debbie just nods and heads into the main parlor, her family hot on her heels.
As soon as she’s gone, I step up to the mirror and frantically correct my tie. I can practically see her finger smudges on the pristine material, even though they probably aren’t visible to the naked eye. But I know they’re there, taunting and mocking me with their imperfections.
I do the best I can to eliminate the tiny wrinkles from her fingers and head to the entrance. It’s only a few minutes later that the early birds start to arrive to pay their respects. I can always count on them to arrive ten to fifteen minutes prior to the start of any visitation. There’s no time but “their” time when it comes to schedules. Most of them will head out to dinner by four thirty, followed by Jeopardy! in their favorite recliner by six, and napping by six thirty. The elderly are as predictable as the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening.
Though, as much as their early arrival used to bother me, I completely understand it on a personal level. If you’re not ten to fifteen minutes early, then you’re already late. It may drive my family crazy, my constant need to be on time, but that’s better than the alternative. Tardiness makes you sloppy, and sloppy leads to mistakes. Mistakes create chaos, and the thought of chaos in my life brings a cold sweat to my skin.
“Good evening,” I greet to everyone as I open the main entrance door, shaking hands with those gentlemen who offer theirs. Some of them even feel the need to fill a few uncomfortable seconds with small talk before they step into line with the rest of those in attendance. Usually, it’s about the weather or something else as casual, but other times they try to ask me how the local high school football team is doing, or even how the fishing is this time of year. Things I have no interest in following.
As the evening draws to a close and the visitors trickle down to only immediate family left in attendance, I make my way to the daughter and explain tomorrow’s schedule. “We’ll be set up at the church by eight thirty. The family should arrive by nine, with the one-hour visitation set for nine thirty to ten thirty. Then, we’ll have the pallbearers help move your loved one to the church chapel for the funeral service.”
“Thank you so much, Samuel. I appreciate you taking care of Mom’s final wishes,” Debbie states, her eyes dry, yet tired and puffy.
“We appreciate you trusting us with these details.”
Debbie steps forward and places a warm hand on my cheek. “You’re such a good boy,” she says with a sad smile. I don’t scoff at her comment, even though I bristle a bit on the inside. I haven’t exactly been a boy in nearly two decades. Although, if I’m being honest, I never was a typical boy.
I like things in order, even as a child. I enjoyed making sure lists were completed on a satisfactory level, even if they pertained to chores. My siblings never appreciated my obligation to following the rules, and even now, as adults, they find great pleasure in ruffling my feathers. I’ve also always felt a strong appreciation for proper dress. You’ve heard the phrase ‘Dress to impress,’ right? Well, I live by that rule. You never know who you’ll run into at the grocery store or at the dentist. In a small town, your next business referral could come at any moment, by anyone. Always put your best foot forward, and that includes your appearance.
I’m the oldest of four. At thirty-six, I’ve been taking care of them since my teenage years. When our dad left following an affair, I readily stepped into his shoes as the man of the house. It was a role I filled easily, even if my siblings didn’t find it necessary at the time. Mom ran a bed and breakfast out of our home and her days, and most of her evenings, were filled with caring for others. That left me to make sure they were showered, transported to and from ball practices or club activities. Not to mention helping take care of the homestead.
Harper is three years younger than me and owns a boutique in town. Kiss Me Goodnight carries unmentionables and other body care products, and despite the questionable product lines she sells, her business is doing well, and for that, I’m grateful. Harper lives with Latham Douglas, a gentleman she attended school with. They reunited following his extended stay in the service and have been living together for a few months now.
Jensen is third in line at thirty-one years old. He’s a brilliant landscape architect, and despite the fact he always has dirt under his fingernails, I can appreciate the fact he works hard and has an eye for design. Jensen recently reunited with his former high school love and moved into her family’s estate at the edge of town. Jensen is also the father of my only nephew, Max, who recently turned five.
Finally, there’s Marissa, my youngest sister. Since she was a small child, Marissa knew what she wanted to do with her life. Now, at twenty-nine, she is fulfilling that dream by assisting our mother with her bed and breakfast. She manages much of the day-to-day aspect of the business and particularly enjoys handling the cooking feature of owning one of the few bed and breakfasts in our small North Carolina town, Rockland Falls.
“Are you ready, dear? Let’s get home and rest,” Stuart says, placing his hand on his wife’s back and gently guiding her toward the exit.
“Yes, of course.”
I meet the couple and their children at the exit, holding the door wide for them to pass through. “Oh, don’t forget, my Reiki healer will be here any minute,” Debbie adds, glancing at her watch. “She must be running a few minutes late.”
My eye twitches at the thought, but I don’t let my irritation show. “No worries, Debbie, I’ll hang around a few more minutes until she arrives.”
“Thank you, Samuel.”
Then they’re gone, leaving me alone in the funeral home with her deceased mother. I check my watch and notice this individual is approaching fifteen minutes late, assuming she was instructed to arrive at the end of the visitation. I activate the door buzzer, which allows us to hear a noise every time the front door opens. This helps when we’re off somewhere within the building, we don’t always have to lock the door.
Once I know I’ll be made aware of her arrival, I head to the family room. This is an area down the hallway where family can gather to take a break. We offer a television, comfortable seating, and mini-kitchen area. Most families will bring in food or have it delivered to the visitation. Tonight’s family cleaned up after themselves, so the only thing I need to do is take out the trash and wash down the table and counter. That job takes all of four minutes, and once it’s complete I head back to the front, turning off the lights as I go.
When the clock strikes eight thirty, I figure this Reiki quack isn’t coming. Maybe there was some sort of magical voodoo healing emergency? Flipping the lights off in the office, I step out, locking the door behind me, just as the front entrance opens. “It’s raining harder than a cow pissing on a flat rock.”
I know that voice.
And those crude words.
Exhaling, I stick my keys in my suit pants pocket and turn to the doorway. “Freedom.”
