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Sadness clouds her eyes for a moment. “Don’t say that.”
She lives in a funeral home but has a hard time joking about death?
“Anyway.” Her tone sounds like a way to brush off the awkward moment. “Would you mind moving this upstairs for me?”
It’s a big box. Seems wider than a normal casket should be. Or maybe I just haven’t been this up close and personal with one in a long time.
“Uh, I’m not sure it will make it up the stairs,” I say. “How’d you even get it down here?”
“The elevator.”
I swear she wanted to tack on “silly” to the end of that sentence.
Except for the basement, the parts of this place I’ve been in look so much like a house, I forgot it has a freight elevator.
Margot flicks on a light switch and a few feet back, I notice the shining silver doors. She wheels over a large aluminum trolley.
The casket isn’t necessarily heavy, especially with two of us doing the lifting, but it’s awkward as fuck to lift and slide onto the trolley. Even though she locked the wheels, Margot stands behind the thing, keeping it still until we have it balanced right.
“Why is this so big?” Jigsaw huffs as he maneuvers his end.
“It’s an over-sized one for our larger customers,” Margot explains. “They’re becoming more and more popular.”
“They make special caskets for big bastards?” Jiggy’s eyes widen in disbelief. “No shit?”
“Please don’t speak like that.” Margot screws her pretty face into a frown. “We treat all of our customers with dignity and respect,” she scolds.
I tip my head toward the ceiling. Really wish I’d said no to this trip.
Jigsaw has the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry. Just took me by surprise.”
He must like this chick, that might be the first apology I’ve heard come out of his snarky mouth.
She nods once, accepting the apology, and slides her hands over her hips, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt. “It will fit in there.” She gestures toward the elevator. “You can ride up with it to make sure it doesn’t tip.”
Jigsaw’s uneasy gaze slides to the now open elevator doors and back to Margot. “Sure.”
Somehow, I’m the one who ends up walking backward to guide the casket in. My back ends up against the far wall of the elevator cab.
“Wait.” Jigsaw shoots his hand out to hold the elevator. “There isn’t a body in here, right?”
Margot gives a playful shrug. “Maybe, maybe not.”
The door slides closed, hitting Jigsaw’s outstretched arm and he quickly snatches it inside.
He turns and stares at me. “What. The. Fuck?”
“She’s probably punishing you for that big bastard comment.”
His mouth turns down in an yeah-I-fucked-up frown. He stares at the casket. “There can’t be a body in there, right?”
“I hope not.”
The elevator jerks and squeaks as it starts to rise.
“Bro, if I tell you something, you promise not to laugh?” Jigsaw’s furrowed brow and darting eyes suggest he’s dead serious. But I’ve been wrong before.
“I’ll do my best.”
He glares at me. “And if you bring it up once we’re outside this box, I’ll fuckin’ punch you.”
I roll my eyes and lean against the metal wall as far away from the casket as possible and cross my arms over my chest. “Sure, I love being threatened.”
He glances at the casket and back to me. “This is my absolute worst nightmare.”
“I’m not loving it myself,” I admit.
He blows out a breath that kind of resembles relief, then points at the ceiling. “Being trapped in this tiny metal box. Possibly with a dead body.” His voice thrums with anxiety and beads of sweat break out on his forehead. “It…I’m trying hard not to lose my shit.”
What the fuck can I do to reassure Jiggy that we’re not going to die in this creaky old deathbox when I’m not so sure myself?
“Take a deep breath.” I demonstrate by noisily inhaling a long, slow breath myself. “Let it out.” I exhale slowly, then do it again. He joins me on the second inhale.
Christ, why is this taking so long? The building isn’t even that big. Are there rats in the basement lifting this thing with ropes and pulleys?
The elevator jerks to a stop.
“Finally,” we both breathe out.
He grins at me. “I’ll buy you a Coke as soon as we get the fuck outta here.”
“Deal.”
Margot meets us on the other side with a sunny smile. “We’re going that way.” She points to the right.
Jigsaw nods and I help him guide the trolley into the hallway and turn it so the whole thing doesn’t topple over.
“How would you usually move this?” Jiggy asks.
“We have a few guys but they’re on a pickup.”
She has us wheel it into a room at the end of the hallway with several other caskets.
This whole adventure is starting to wear on me, so I’m really not in the mood for more of Jiggy’s flirting.
