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Lula was fanning her face and flapping her hands. “I’m gonna cry. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so emotional. Maybe I could have a little stove so I could make a roast chicken. And I always wanted to bake a cake.”
“I’ll draw up a plan,” Julio said. “I know someone who happened on some almost-new appliances so it might not cost you a lot.”
“When can you start?” Lula asked. “I’m living with Stephanie right now. I’m sort of homeless.”
“I can start right away,” Julio said. “I have an opening. Usually, it’s the appliances that take time, but these are available. And I can get a deal on cabinets if you don’t mind slightly used. We’ll give them a coat of paint and they’ll be like new.”
The translation of this was that the appliances were hijacked off a truck last week, and in the dark of night, the cabinets would be removed from a house that had been foreclosed on and abandoned. Not that any of this was so terrible. At least they’d be finding a good home. Besides, it was environmentally friendly, like recycling.
“This is one of those things that was meant to be,” Lula said when we were back in the Rangeman SUV. “At first the fire looked like a bad thing, but now it’s a good thing. I’m going to start practicing cooking as soon as we get home. I’ve got to be ready to have a stove. I didn’t see any sign of Grendel either. There were no tufts of ogre hair sticking to anything.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I dropped Lula off at the office and I drove to my parents’ house. It was midmorning and my mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I parked at the curb, let myself into the house, and yelledhello.
“I’m in the dining room,” Grandma yelled back.
She was at the table, surfing on her laptop.
“Your father is at his lodge and your mother is at the grocery store,” she said. “I stayed home so I could catch up on my socials.”
“Anything fun happening?”
“The usual blah blah blah,” Grandma said, “but Mitchell Zelinsky has a viewing tonight at the funeral home. It’s going to be a good one. He was a big deal in the Knights of Columbus. They’re putting him in slumber room number one. That means they’re expecting a crowd. I thought I would wear my new bluedress. It’s a copy of the dress Princess Kate wore for some shindig. I got it online. You can’t go wrong with Princess Kate.”
CNN, MSNBC, CBS, and Fox paled in comparison to the amount of news that was passed along the Burg gossip line. And Grandma was a premier member. Originally, I’d planned to get her to plant a rumor about Plover and fake jewelry, but now I had something better. There was only one thing that could top the gossip line, and that was a major viewing at the funeral home. A Plover rumor dropped there would spread like wildfire.
“You should come with me,” Grandma said. “I could use a ride.”
“Are dogs allowed?”
“I don’t know. I never saw a dog at a viewing. I guess if you say he’s a service dog it would be okay. He could be one of those comfort dogs. Like an emotional support dog but he could be a bereavement dog.”
I looked over at Bob, not sure if he could pull it off. He’d probably be okay if I kept him away from the cookie table.
“Doors open at seven,” Grandma said. “There’s going to be a rush to get in, but I’ll bet we could use the side door if we’ve got a bereavement animal with us.”
“I’ll pick you up at six forty-five.”
I left my parents’ house and drove to my apartment building. When I’d packed for my move to Rangeman I hadn’t included anything my mother would consider to be suitable for wearing to a viewing.
Lula was in the kitchen when I let myself in. There were candles in jars on the counter and Lula had a spray can in each hand.
“I’m trying to decide on the scent we want in our apartment,” she said. “I’m torn between Woodland Spring and Lemon Verbena. Do you have a preference?”
My preference was to havenoscent.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s overwhelming right now. My eyes are burning, and my nose is running.”
“It’ll be better once I make a decision.”
Nutsy was on the couch with his laptop.
“Remember you need to talk to Plover at noon,” I said to him. “If he wants to set up a jewelry exchange, tell him you want more money. Do whatever it takes to delay a meeting.”
“No problem,” Nutsy said. “I’m on it.”
I ran into the bedroom and shoved heels, a black skirt, a white shirt, and a royal-blue jacket into a tote bag. It was my go-to outfit for events I hated and times I wanted to be invisible. It was unremarkably pleasant.
