by Kim Linwood
At least to me.
Even if I know she wouldn’t believe it.
I shift up as I pull onto the highway. I’ve been staying in Stinson to save myself the drive from Philly. Sure I could stay with Grams and Aunt Liz, but there’s only so much family togetherness I can stomach. The engine growls as I push the pedal down, battling the stereo to be loudest, then eases off when I stabilize around eighty.
Sadie’s banging around in my head, stealing my attention with the memory of how disappointed and angry she looked when we parted yesterday. I know I’m fucking this all up, but I can’t seem to help myself. Dinner went even better than I’d hoped, so maybe what I need to do is figure out how to get back to what we had. If I play my cards right, I can still get both her and the parlor. Which is why I have a stop to make on the way.
Finding a spot on the street in front of Maria’s floral shop isn’t hard. Finding actual coins to use in the clunky old meter on the other hand, that takes some serious raiding of the cup holder. A hot blonde walks by as I pay for my parking, I glance up out of reflex and she slows down and smiles. It’s an obvious in, but to both of our surprises, I don’t take it. There are more important things on my mind, and one of them is a fiery brunette that wants to kick me instead of kiss me, and for some reason that bothers me. The world is full of attractive women, but only one Sadie.
Shit. I think I might actually be growing up.
A wave of scents washes over me as I enter the little shop. I don’t recognize much beyond the basics, but that doesn’t matter so long as Maria can steer me in the right direction, and since she obviously knows Sadie, it seems a good place to start.
She’s at the counter scribbling into a notebook, but she looks up when I come in. Her face lights up as soon as she sees me “Mr. Graves! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” Her smile widens. “It’s not news about you and Sadie, is it?”
I grin at the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “No, no news, but I need to make a good impression on Sadie and you were the first person I thought of.”
She cocks her head curiously, reading me like a book. “So it’s like that already, is it? Lucky for you I’ve helped generations of men apologize. The right flowers can fix anything.” Maria stands up quickly, pausing as a cough overtakes her. “Excuse me. I must be coming down with something.” She grabs a pair of gardening gloves and pulls them on.
I follow as she walks around her store. “Have you known Sadie long?”
She doesn’t pause from her task as she answers. “Her whole life, which feels like the blink of an eye for an old woman like me. The economy was bad and I was struggling to make ends meet when her parents opened their funeral home, and the day they walked into my shop and started setting up regular orders was the moment things started looking up. We’ve been close ever since. She and my granddaughter Josefina are nearly the same age. Good girls.” She cuts me a look that tells me I better behave.
Note to self, don’t get on Maria’s bad side.
“Oh, yes. Absolutely.”
She harrumphs as she plucks out some orange flowers, mixing them together with green stems and bunches of tiny white flowers. I don’t know what they’re called, but they’re pretty. After eyeing them for a moment, she puts them back down. “Maybe,” she mutters before moving on to the other side of the store.
I trail along behind like a lost puppy while she picks her way through her selection like the wand maker from Harry Potter. It seems like she has something very specific in mind, but can’t quite seem to find it, growing more and more irritated as she searches. I half expect her to start flinging flowers over her shoulder as she digs deeper.
“Wait. Here!” she exclaims enthusiastically, pulling out a few white flowers, simple, but elegant. Then she rushes to the other side, grabs a mix of pink and red flowers that look sort of like tulips, but aren’t. Green leaves get slipped in carefully between them, then a single deep red rose in the middle. With practiced motions, she rolls and arranges the bundle until she seems happy with the result. “Give this to her,” she orders, finally looking up at me. “But my flowers aren’t magic. If you don’t treat her right, Sadie won’t stand for it, no matter how nice the bouquet.”
I nod obediently. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I think we’re still in the realm of things flowers can fix.” I’m hoping so at any rate.
She looks at me and sighs. “Oh, to be young and foolish again. Let me give you a piece of advice. My Sadie is a good girl. She’s worked in that home with her parents for her entire life. What she needs is someone who can give her the chance to find out who she is and what she’s capable of. Do you understand me?”
“I… think so?”
“Liar,” she scoffs. “I know who you are now, Mr. Graves, and I know that your family has a reputation for steamrolling everyone in their path. You seem like a nice boy, though, so I’m giving you the chance to show me you’re different. Work with Sadie and I have a feeling the two of you will do great things. Try to crush her down and put her in a tidy little box and you’ll never find out what you could’ve had.” Her short speech devolves in another fit of coughing. “Now, you’d better get out of here before you get this too. I think I’ll go make some tea and call Josefina in to take over.” She shoos me away.
“I still need to pay for—”
“Nonsense. Go find Sadie and remember what I told you.”
I put a hand on her arm and give it a soft squeeze. “Fine, but I’ll make it up some other way.”
She smiles and pats my hand. “You can thank me in your wedding speech. Off you go.”
I step out of the store, flowers in hand and Maria’s words in the back of my head. It sounded good, but a little heavy for someone I’ve been on one half-date with, and I file her advice away to worry about once the situation with the parlor is under control.
Until I get my own shit taken care of, I can’t be expected to fix someone else’s, but if everything goes to plan, this will all be in Sadie’s best interests as well.
No problem.
Right.
14
Sadie
There’s an elderly man standing in our reception. He’s dressed in a light gray pinstripe suit with a fedora to match. I bet he was a handsome man in his prime, but the years have taken their toll. Age has left his pants just a little bit long, catching under the back of his black leather shoes, and his sleeves covering the tops of his hands. He leans his full weight on a cane, his prominent knuckles chalk white as he grips it for support. Bent with age, he lifts his head to look up at me with a kind smile that shifts his weathered skin like the movement of tectonic places.
I rush to grab a chair and put it next to him before a gust of wind knocks him over. “Here, have a seat, please. Welcome to the Williams Funeral Home.”
“Thank you.” He eases himself slowly into it, settling down with obvious relief. “Yes, thank you. This chair is comfortable.”
“Um… Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water? Tea? Hot chocolate?” If he’s here, chances are it isn’t for a happy purpose, and he looks so fragile it makes me want to do whatever I can to make his day easier. “I can make pretty much anything with the machine in the kitchen.”
He shakes his head. “No, thank you.” He pauses. “Unless your machine does a neat scotch?”
“I’m afraid not.” I smile. “At least not until after closing.”
“Too bad.” He chuckles, but there’s a sadness in his eyes. “I don’t want to waste your time, young lady, so I’ll get right to the point. My wife passed recently, and many years ago, Peter Williams—”
“That’s my father.”
He nods. “I thought so, you have a bit of his look about you. Your father did something wonderful for my Lydia.” He pulls a handkerchief out of his breast pocket. “You see, her mother had passed away, and back then we didn’t have any money. We were working, but times were tough and Lydia knew we couldn’t afford anything fancy. She went to your father hoping to f
ind a simple coffin she could afford. Your father? He was so kind. He treated her like she had a million dollars instead of barely two pennies to rub together. Your parents made sure Lydia’s mother was taken care of and hardly charged us a cent. Their kindness gave our family dignity and respect during a time when we weren’t seeing a lot of either and we never forgot.”
“They did?” Tears prickle at the corner of my eyes as I listen to him tell his story. I shouldn’t be surprised, Mom and Dad have always done their best to help the clients who come in with fear in their eyes when they see the list of prices. That they’d provide basically the whole funeral for free, though, they must have really seen something special in his wife.
“Now that my Lydia’s gone…” He sighs deeply, obviously heart broken.
This is always my least favorite part of the job. Having to talk business with someone who is barely holding themselves together when all you want to do is put your arms around them and let them know it will all be okay.
I swallow. “It’s all right, Mr…” I trail off, realizing he hasn’t given his name yet.
“Graham. Robert Graham. I’m sorry.”
“Of course. Take your time.” I gesture towards the arranging room. “Would you prefer we move in there? The seats are more comfortable, and I can close the door for privacy.”
Mr. Graham shakes his head. “No, no need to trouble yourself. Here is fine.” He visibly steels himself before continuing. “I’m not used to doing things like this, you know. Lydia was the charmer in the family. She always did the talking.” With a sad smile, he shakes his head. “I’m sure she had your father wrapped around her finger in no time. My little flirt,” he jibes softly to himself.
Trying to stay professional, I wipe away a tear that’s threatening to fall. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Graham. I’d love to help with whatever advice or arrangements you need.”
Gathering himself, he looks up at me with sad, tired eyes. “After your parents so generously helped us when we needed it, my business took a swing up. I tried to pay him back, but your father wouldn’t accept. He said to pay it forward instead, so that’s what I’ve tried to do, and when I finally retired, I sold my business for a very, very handsome sum. Now, I want to give Lydia a send-off that will be remembered for a long time.”
Yep, that sounds like Dad. A gift or favor granted is for life, not in the hopes of making a profit later. Of course, if he’d been more willing to put the business first, maybe we’d have enough in the bank to more easily deal with their runaway RV incident. Still, that’s not Mr. Graham’s fault. “I’m just glad we could help your wife.”
He smiles and nods. “Well, here’s my little way of both paying it back and paying it forward. There’s nowhere else I’d dream of going to arrange Lydia’s funeral. My wife was a well-loved woman, and I expect many, many people will be attending. I know it will cost a pretty penny, but money is no object. I want Lydia to have the funeral she deserves, and I’d buy her the moon if I could. And this time, I’ll be paying your family every last cent, no matter the price.”
The door chimes, and Carter steps in just in time to hear Mr. Graham’s last sentence. He takes us both in with a quick glance, before walking over and putting his hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
What the hell is he up to? “We’ll discuss it later, Carter.” I gesture at my client. “This is Mr. Robert Graham. He’s here to arrange his wife’s funeral.”
“Of course. So sorry for your loss.” Carter tells Mr. Graham before practically forcing a bouquet of flowers into my hands. “These are for you.”
“For me? What—”
“Later.” Then he’s holding out his hand to Mr. Graham. “Carter Graves. I assure you that you couldn’t have made a better choice. Ms. Williams will do everything in her power to ensure that the funeral is exactly what you want.”
“Hey, I was just—” How is it that somehow he’s both complimented me and managed to completely take over this conversation? He doesn’t own this parlor yet.
“Of course. I’m only here to offer ideas.” His smile looks sweet, but I know it’s hiding a shrewd brain that’s likely up to no good. Because it never is, but then he surprises me. “Please,” he says. “Take all the time you need.”
Mr. Graham glances between us, looking as confused as I feel. All right, Carter later, customer now. I scramble to take back the reins of the situation before it’s too late. “It’s wonderful that you want to do this for your wife, Mr. Graham, but you don’t owe us anything.” Carter doesn’t say anything, but his fingers dig into my shoulder in silent protest.
Mr. Graham taps his cane on the floor for emphasis. “No, it’s what Lydia and I decided long ago, no matter who passed first.” Then he picks a list out of his pocket, and reads from it. “We want the service arranged on our estate. Your most elegant casket, and we’d like it open for the wake. The morgue—” His voice fails for just a second before he starts back up and rushes through. “The morgue is prepared for you to pick up as soon as you’re ready. There will be more than two hundred guests, and we’ll need catering along with some sort of sound system for the speeches. Some of the guests will be hard of hearing, so we’ll need to take that into account. I’m sure there are other considerations, but I’ll leave it up to you to address them as they come up. I trust your experience.”
Nerves flutter in my stomach. I’ve never arranged anything on that kind of scale before. All of our funerals have been held here with rarely more than fifty people and usually a lot less. We do have a caterer, but Lena’s a single mom and I’m not sure she can handle anything larger than our usual requests. Catering an event like Mr. Graham is planning might be way beyond her scope. And a sound system? I don’t even know where to get that, though I could probably talk to the guys from that polka band, and I’d have to figure out how to get everything there, and…
And I can’t turn down this opportunity.
“Of course, Mr. Graham. That’s no problem at all. You just leave it to us, and we’ll make sure everything is taken care off.”
Carter takes Mr. Graham’s hand and shakes it gravely. “I’m really so sorry. Your wife must’ve meant the world to you.”
Mr. Graham nods slowly. “She does. Did.” He pauses, looking between me and Carter. “Does. Oh, I really don’t know what’s right to say anymore.” Then he gives us a wistful smile. “We never had any children, and our family has all passed on or drifted away, so please humor me.”
“Of course,” I say, still somewhat in shock.
“Seeing you two does my old heart good. I wish I had someone to pass my own business on to, so it’s wonderful to see the younger generation stepping up here. Enjoy each other, and enjoy working and building a future together. These years might seem stressful, but they will be some of the best in your lives.”
I’m still reeling from Carter walking in like king of the castle, and then getting the biggest job of my life dropped right in my lap. It takes me a moment to understand what he’s saying. Together? Me and Carter? I open my mouth to correct him, but the look on Mr. Graham’s face stops me in my tracks. “I hope so.”
Which, while vague, isn’t a lie.
I take Mr. Graham’s hand as well. “Thank you so much for trusting us with your wife’s memory. We’ll do everything in our power to make it perfect.”
We help Mr. Graham outside to a waiting car, and as soon as we’re back inside, I turn to Carter. “So, would you like to tell me what you’re doing here? I was handling things perfectly well on my own.”
He frowns, looking surprised at my annoyance. “I just tried to help. Did I say something wrong? Are you insinuating I was hiding in the bushes outside waiting for someone to drop in?”
“No. No, of course not.” Okay, so I considered it for a second, but that would be crazy. Even for him. “I’m just a little stressed about everything, and now I have about a billion things to figure out and half of them are totally new for me. I need to talk to
our caterer, get hold of a PA system, check the location to make sure it’s even doable, talk to Zoe about the body and… I don’t know. A whole bunch of other things.” I drop into the chair Mr. Graham sat in. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Well, I had those flowers to deliver, for one.” He picks up the bouquet I’d left on a table and hands it to me sheepishly. “I was a bit of a jerk yesterday. Even I can see that. It’s not much, but I was trying to apologize.”
I raise a skeptical brow at him as I lean in to smell the flowers, not missing how beautiful the arrangement is, packed with all of my favorites. Maria’s handiwork, definitely. “A bit? You should’ve heard the name calling competition I had with Zoe after you’d left yesterday.”
“Honestly, I’m a little sorry I missed it. I bet it was both creative and cathartic.” He grins and the mood lightens, making it hard to stay annoyed. “Listen, don’t take this as criticism, but I know you’re going to be looking at some logistical challenges with this funeral. Am I right?”
I take another sniff of my bouquet. “Some, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
He steps back and spreads his arms wide. “You’re lucky I’m here, then.”
“Uh huh. Jury’s still out on that one.”
Carter chuckles, leaning casually against the wall. “Maybe, but in this case I think you’ll see that I’m right, because I can provide everything you need. I know you’ve been nervous about how things will change when we take over, but this is the perfect opportunity to see how being part of the Graves family can work in your favor. We’re not limited by the resources of a single funeral home. Local connections are great, but we have a network of proven suppliers that we can rely on, even on short notice. If a smaller parlor has a huge customer, the organization can step in and help. Like now.”
