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I begin grabbing and placing the filters underneath the cabinets, and she does the same. Back behind the kitchen is a huge pantry filled with a ton of labeled shelves.
“Do you have the permanent marker?” I ask, not being able to find it on the counter.
“Uh, yeah.” She hands me the marker and I write down the count on the inventory paper.
After fifteen minutes, we are done. She turns the light off and grabs her keys from the back. We head out of the café and into her car.
I need to call my mom soon. Planning Ray’s funeral is definitely stressing her out, and I need to be there for her. “Hi, I’d like to take this to go,” a man says, holding a small plate of bagels.
“Sure.” I grab a to-go bag and hand it to him.
“Thank you,” he says.
I nod, and he walks out through the front door.
The sun lowers itself toward the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the charming streets of Beaufort. Each passing minute brings me closer to the moment I can finally clock out. The café has quieted down, and with a steadying breath, I pick up my phone and move away from the counter, gazing out at the familiar sights of the town I call home.
Dialing my mother’s number, I feel a mix of anticipation and sadness tugging at my heartstrings. After a few rings, her voice crackles through the line, and I hold on to the phone a little tighter.
“Hailey, sweetheart.” Mom’s voice carries a hint of weariness and warmth. “How’s your day treating you?”
Leaning against the wall, I let my gaze and thoughts start to wander, attempting to steady my voice. “Hi, Mom. It’s bearable, just waiting to wrap up.”
“I understand. What did you call for, honey?” she asks.
“I just wanted to check in. How are you holding up with everything?”
“I’m… trying, sweetheart. It’s just really tough.”
A lump forming in my throat, I blink rapidly, fending off the tears threatening to escape. “I know, Mom. Dad meant a lot to both of us.” Gathering my courage, I venture further. “Do you need any help with the funeral arrangements?”
Her voice holds a glimmer of relief. “Actually, most of it is sorted. Ray and I had this planned out beforehand.”
“Oh, that’s good,” I say.
Her tone lifted a touch. “But there’s one thing. I’d like you and Scarlett to dress in dark colors, but it doesn’t need to be all black. You know, for the funeral.”
I nod, though she can’t see me. “Of course, Mom. Where and at what time is the funeral?”
“It’s at the Sunset Hill Cemetery, dear. Two o’clock on Saturday.”
“Got it. Scarlett and I will be there a couple of hours early.”
Her voice softens, carrying the weight of motherly love. “You’re a good daughter, Hailey.”
Emotion clogs my throat, and I fight to steady myself. “Thanks, Mom. Love you,” I respond and end the call.
* * *
“I don’t haveshit to wear for the funeral,” I say while digging through my drawers and closet.
“Well, let’s go buy you something.”
“The outfit I wear is just going to be a reminder of why I wore it. There’s no point in wasting money,” I explain.
“I’m just trying to be helpful,” Scarlett says with a shrug.
I sigh and sit on the floor, leaning against the bed.
