Читать книгу A New Attitude - Charlotte Hughes - Страница 12

THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, Marilee found herself filling out an application at the local Job Service center. She had checked the classifieds daily. Prissy’s Pets was looking for someone to groom dogs, the local tavern needed a cocktail waitress, and Darnel Hines was advertising for a mechanic. Slim pickings, to say the least. She would have to look elsewhere.

“Marilee, I just want you to know how sorry I was to hear about you and Grady,” Leanne Davis, who worked at the job placement center, whispered.

Marilee forced a smile to her lips as she handed the woman her job application. She and Leanne had attended high school together and had cheered the Fighting Pirates in their cutesy blue-and-gold cheerleading outfits. Her friend had since married and had three children, gaining at least ten pounds with each pregnancy. Marilee wondered if either one of them would fit in their old cheerleading skirts.

“Thank you, Leanne. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. But I’m going to be just fine.” She didn’t believe it at the moment, but if she said it enough perhaps it would come true.

“I can’t help feeling guilty. After all, I was the one who introduced you to Grady in high school.”

“That was a long time ago. I certainly don’t hold you responsible.”

“That’s why I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find a job.”

With that in mind, Marilee decided to let Leanne feel guilty a little while longer. It wasn’t the Christian thing to do, but she was desperate. “Thank you. I know you’ll do your best.”

“Only trouble is, there aren’t many jobs available in Chickpea.” Leanne leaned closer. “What I want to know is, did you suspect anything?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you know Grady was sleeping with that slut?”

Marilee shook her head. “I was the last to know.” She smiled tightly. “But I’m trying to put all that behind me now and go on with my life. That’s why I need a job.”

“Of course you do, honey,” Leanne said, patting her hand. “And we’re going to find you something.” She straightened in her chair and considered Marilee’s application. “Hmm. You don’t have a degree.”

Marilee tried to look confident. “No, I don’t. But I’m intelligent, quick to learn, and I’m a hard worker. There isn’t much I can’t do once I put my mind to it.”

“Of course you can, sugar.” Leanne shuffled through more papers. “Is there something you’re particularly interested in? Something you’re really good at?”

“I play the piano and sing. I was choir director at our church for years. But you probably already know that.” She suddenly brightened. “I bake cakes.”

Leanne looked up. “Do what?”

“Just ask me the ingredients of any cake you’ve ever heard of, and I can spout them off word for word. Red velvet, Lady Baltimore, German chocolate, you name it. I personally put together a fifty-page cookbook of my own recipes for a committee I’m on, and we sold several hundred copies.” Marilee clasped her hands in her lap. She could see that it meant nothing to Leanne.

“Too bad Mitch Johnson isn’t hiring over at the bakery,” Leanne replied.

Marilee remained thoughtful. Surely there was something she could do. “I like being around people, for what it’s worth,” she said. “Folks say I have a calming effect on those who are troubled. I’ve spent many a night sitting with the sick in hospitals and nursing homes, and I always tried to be there when someone from the congregation lost a loved one.”

“You enjoy that sort of thing?” Leanne asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“I like helping people. Perhaps I could be a nurses’ aid.”

“You’d have to take classes, and the pay is low, but it’s something to keep in mind.” She studied Marilee. “You say you don’t mind working with the bereaved?”

“Not at all. I’m used to it.”

Leanne seemed to ponder it. Finally, she reached for a file. “Well then, Marilee, I just might have something for you after all.”

THAT AFTERNOON, MARILEE WAS waiting for Winnie when she stepped off the school bus. “I need your help,” she told the girl.

Winnie adjusted the shoulder strap on her book bag. “With what?”

Marilee grinned. “Get in the car, and I’ll tell you on the way.”

“You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

“I want to teach somebody a lesson, and you’re the perfect person to help me.”

“Who’s the victim?”

“Esmerelda Cunningham. You know her?”

“The Queen Bee?” Winnie gave a grunt. “I know of her—rich, stingy and mean.”

“I think she needs a refresher course in manners.”

“Then I’m your girl.”

After their admittance to Esmerelda Cunningham’s grand house, Marilee followed a staid-looking butler into the drawing room with Winnie on her heels, carrying the antique candelabra. Esmerelda was sipping tea from a dainty cup and listening to opera. She looked queenly, her dress crisp as new money and not a hair out of place on her white head.

“I was not expecting guests,” she said coolly, “but I am relieved to find my candelabra in good repair.”

“Just set it over there,” Marilee told Winnie.

The girl set the candelabra on a Duncan Phyfe table with a thump as Marilee, hands on hips, faced Esmerelda. “Yes, I brought it back once I heard you’d accused me of stealing it. I have absolutely no interest in it. I don’t know about you, but I have a life, and I’m not going to spend it polishing silver.” She hitched her chin high and sniffed. “I prefer stainless steel myself.”

Esmerelda set her cup in its saucer so hard Marilee feared it would shatter. “I beg your pardon? Do you dare come into my home and insult me after I was generous enough to donate to your cause? And who is this person with you?”

“Name’s Winnie Frye,” Winnie said. “Hey, I like your place. It’s a bit crowded for my tastes, and I shudder to think about trying to raise a toddler around all these expensive-looking eggs you got sittin’ around.”

“Those aren’t eggs,” Esmerelda said. “They are original Fabergé.” Winnie picked up one, and the woman gasped aloud. “Put that down immediately!”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Mrs. C.,” Winnie said. “I’m just curious by nature. I like touching things, you know?” She walked over to a Tiffany lamp. “Oh, now, I like this.”

“Hands off!” Esmerelda almost shouted, causing Winnie to jump and almost knock over the lamp. Esmerelda sank into her chair and mopped her forehead with a handkerchief. She looked at Marilee. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Marilee tried to hide her amusement. “Winnie was living at Blessing Home until it was declared unsafe. We’ve managed to find homes for the other girls, but we haven’t had any luck placing Winnie.” She stepped closer and whispered, “She has mood swings, and her pregnancy has made them worse. I guess you might say she’s hormonally challenged right now.” Marilee cut her eyes toward the girl.

Esmerelda looked from Marilee to Winnie before settling her gaze on Marilee once more. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I was sort of hoping you’d let me crash here on your sofa for a while,” Winnie said. “I’d really prefer my own bedroom, you understand, but I don’t want to put you out. I reckon I could set up a bassinet over here by this window. I want my baby to have plenty of sunlight, and this place is kinda dark, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“You must be out of your mind,” Esmerelda said to Marilee. “No wonder your husband left you.”

Marilee was surprised the remark didn’t sting as much as it had in the past. “Now, now, Mrs. Cunningham, I know you’re a person of good breeding, and you wouldn’t think of stooping to insults, so I’m just going to state my business. We need a home for Winnie, and you have the biggest house in town. Surely you wouldn’t mind having a guest around.”

“I most certainly do mind,” the woman said. “This is not a hotel.”

“It’s big enough to be a hotel,” Winnie said. “I hear this place even has an elevator and swimming pool. Would it be okay if I brought some of the brothers over for a weenie roast and pool party?”

Esmerelda stared in horror. She turned to Marilee. “Don’t think for one minute I don’t know what’s going on here. You’re simply trying to embarrass me for making a fuss over the candelabra. Well, it won’t work. I did my duty by donating it to your charity, it’s not my fault you weren’t there to hand it over at the drawing. I can only hope you’ve come to your senses and will see that it is delivered safely to the woman who won it.”

“I don’t want your dumb old candelabra,” Marilee said. “We’ll find another prize.”

“What do you mean, you don’t want it? Do you have any idea what it’s worth?”

“I know what it’s not worth, Mrs. Cunningham. It’s not worth being called a thief.” Esmerelda looked away. “But that’s not why I’m here. Winnie needs a place to stay,” she repeated.

“Is this a sleeper sofa?” Winnie asked. “I’d hate to sleep on this expensive fabric, what with my bladder problem.”

Esmerelda looked as though she was about to have a seizure. “Dudley, come here this instant!” she called out loudly. The butler seemed to appear from nowhere. “Please escort these women from my home. And carry that candelabra to their car.” She turned to Marilee. “My business with you is finished. I’ve done my part.”

“Forget the candelabra, Dudley,” Marilee said. “And we are more than capable of showing ourselves out.” She and Winnie started for the door.

“You wait just a darned minute, young lady!” Esmerelda said. “You are not leaving this house without that candelabra. I insist! I’m not about to have my friends think I went back on my word.” She drew herself up proudly. “I’m retiring to my bedroom now. I don’t want to hear another word about it.” She left in a huff.

Marilee looked at the butler. “I’ll bet she’s a peach to work for.”

Dudley chuckled as he followed them out the door, carrying the candelabra.

Marilee pulled into her driveway twenty minutes later and found Clara and Ruby planting mums in the old cast-iron pot out front. “We thought it would cheer you up,” Clara said as Marilee and Winnie climbed from the car.

Marilee was touched by her friends’ thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

“How did things go with Esmerelda?” Ruby asked.

“The woman needs a beating with a big stick,” Winnie said. “Imagine her not wanting to take me in. And here I am with child. I’m telling you, she can go from zero to bitch in two seconds flat.”

Marilee laughed as she pulled the candelabra from her back seat. “Naturally, she insisted we take the candelabra after all. She doesn’t want to look bad to her friends.”

“What friends?” Winnie muttered.

“Did she apologize for what she said about you?” Ruby asked.

“What do you think?” Marilee presented the candelabra to Clara. “I trust you’ll see that this gets into the right hands.”

“Yes, of course.” She put it in her car.

“By the way, my next-door neighbor happens to be partners with Bobby Benson, and he has offered to take a look at Blessing Home. If he agrees to patch the roof, we’ll have to come up with the money.”

“How do we know he won’t walk off the job like Bobby?” Ruby asked. “And how much is he thinking of charging us?” As committee treasurer, she was tightfisted when it came to doling out money.

“He’s going to let me know,” Marilee said. “I think that with the benefit luncheon and cookbook sales we should be able to cover it.”

“There’s a lot more to be done,” Clara said. “We’re going to have to put our heads together and come up with more moneymaking schemes.”

Ruby looked thoughtful. “How about a white elephant sale?”

“That might work,” Clara said. “What do you think, Marilee?”

Marilee sighed. “Maybe.”

“Have you lost interest in this project?” Clara asked.

Marilee was beginning to wish she’d never gotten involved, but she couldn’t let them down again. “Of course not. It’s just—”

“She’s got a lot on her mind,” Ruby said. “And rightfully so. Honey, Clara and I need to take on more responsibility, what with all that’s happened. And we need to get our other volunteers off their behinds.”

Clara gave a harrumph. “What volunteers? They’ve all dropped out.”

“Let me see what Mr. Brewer has to say, once he takes a look at the place,” Marilee told them.

Winnie started for the house, and then paused. “I have a four-thirty appointment at the clinic tomorrow. I go every three weeks for my prenatal exam.”

“I can drive you,” Marilee said.

Clara smiled at Winnie. “Are you all settled in, dear?”

“For the time being. But I only plan on hanging around for a couple of days. My girlfriend just rented one of those luxury apartments in town, and she’s having a fit for me to move in with her. Soon as she gets an extra bed, I’m outta here.” She headed for the house without another word.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Marilee told her friends as they shot her a questioning look.

“How’s the job hunting?” Ruby asked, changing the subject.

“I have an appointment with Irby Denton at the funeral home tomorrow.”

“Oh my,” Clara said. “You’re going to work at a funeral home?”

“Irby has to hire me first,” Marilee pointed out.

Both women stared back at her. Finally, Ruby smiled. “Hey, I think that’s great! What exactly would you be doing there? If he hires you, I mean?”

“He needs a receptionist. It’s an entry-level position, but I have to start somewhere.”

“Oh my,” Clara repeated.

Ruby looked at the woman. “Clara, why do you keep saying that?”

Clara stared at Marilee. “Ruby doesn’t know your secret, does she?” Clara whispered.

“What secret?” Ruby asked, glancing from one to the other.

Marilee shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Besides, I need this job. I just discovered Grady took a chunk of money out of our savings account.”

“You need a good lawyer,” Clara said.

“I’ve already made an appointment. Tate Radford says he can have me divorced in ninety days on grounds of adultery.”

“Well, they don’t come any better than Tate,” Clara said, “but he’s not cheap.”

“I want somebody good, in case I end up with a custody battle on my hands,” Marilee replied.

Clara reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Are you okay?”

Marilee offered what she hoped was a brave smile. “Better than I was. I’m not going to recover overnight and I still think of Josh constantly, but I’m definitely better.”

Ruby stamped her foot on the ground. “Somebody better tell me about this secret or I’m going to throw a fit right here in Marilee’s front yard.”

“Oh, good grief!” Clara said. She stepped closer to Ruby. “Marilee is terrified of dead people. She has a phobia.”

Ruby’s eyes grew wide as saucers as she regarded Marilee. “No kidding?”

Marilee shot Clara a disgruntled look. “I’m not terrified of anything.” Other than the future, she reminded herself.

“Marilee Abernathy, I watched you almost pass out when Sara Banks asked you to remove her husband’s wedding ring from his finger at his funeral,” Clara said. She looked at Ruby. “Marilee had a full-blown panic attack out in the parking lot. I almost had to bring out my smelling salts.”

“I just don’t like touching dead people,” Marilee said. “I hardly think that’s going to be a problem if I’m working at the front desk.”

“I’ve touched plenty of dead people,” Ruby told her proudly. “Irby sometimes calls me to do hair and makeup when his wife can’t do it. Dead people can’t hurt you, Marilee.”

Clara looked doubtful. “Irby is never going to hire you if he finds out.”

“He’s not going to find out,” Marilee replied. She looked long and hard at her friends. “Is he?”

Both women pretended to zip their lips, lock them shut and throw away the keys. Marilee smiled prettily. “Thank you.”

“What if you have to help him embalm somebody?” Ruby whispered.

“I’m not going to go near the embalming room. You have to go to a special school for that.” Both women looked skeptical. “You have to admit I’m perfect for the job. I’ve been comforting the bereaved for years. It’s what I do best.”

“You are perfect for the job,” Clara said. “As long as you don’t go near any dead people.”

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, MARILEE watched Josh step from the bus at the high school. He was alone, his back bowed, head down. His posture said it all. He didn’t fit in, never had. He paid a heavy price for being a minister’s son with a weight problem. He’d never had a girlfriend, never attended a school dance or social gathering, but if he were invited, Marilee was certain he wouldn’t go because he felt like an outcast. Marilee suffered as much as he did over it, but she kept quiet because Josh would have been embarrassed for her to know. But she knew. Mothers always knew. The only friends Josh had attended Chickpea Baptist, and she doubted he was spending much time there these days.

“Josh,” she called out, waving at him in the crowd.

He took one look at her and turned in the opposite direction.

Her heart sank. “Josh, wait!” She pushed through the throng of students, never letting her eyes off his blond head. She caught up with him outside the gym. “Josh, please wait!”

He turned and glared at her as kids shuffled past, tossing curious looks in their direction. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

His face was red. Marilee knew he didn’t like drawing attention to himself, preferring anonymity to being noticed and risking ridicule. She often wondered why kids were so cruel. And to think she’d considered ending her life, when Josh was so completely alone in the world. “I need to talk to you, honey.”

“I have class.”

“Just give me five minutes, Josh. I don’t think that’s asking too much.”

His eyes blazed. “Don’t you get it, Mom? I don’t want to talk to you. I want to be left alone.”

His look wrenched her heart. “I don’t deserve this, Josh.”

But he was already gone, lost among the crowd. Marilee stood there, frozen, feeling as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, and for a moment she thought she’d be sick. Her eyes smarted as she staggered toward her car. She was only vaguely aware of the stares she received from some of the students. Don’t cry, she told herself. Don’t even think about it right now. The last thing she needed to do was arrive at her interview with swollen eyes.

She would cry later in the privacy of her room. In fact, she looked forward to it.

DENTON FUNERAL HOME was less than a mile from town, a massive, two-story colonial that housed the business in the basement and first floor, while the second floor served as an apartment for the family. When Irby Denton greeted Marilee on the wide porch, where ferns shuddered in the mid-September breeze, she saw that he’d changed very little since high school.

His hair was still fire-engine red, but his hairline had receded, and the laugh lines that bracketed his mouth were deeper. He wore the same mischievous look that had labeled him class clown and prankster as far back as kindergarten, where he’d swallowed one of Mrs. Finch’s goldfish, sending the young teacher into a frenzy and causing one girl to throw up on her new Mary Janes. His parents had been promptly summoned to the school, and he was given a three-day suspension. Upon his return, his desk was placed at the front of the class, near Mrs. Finch, who was perturbed that he’d botched her alphabetical seating arrangements.

“Marilee, you look as pretty as you did the day they crowned you homecoming queen,” Irby said, giving her a bear hug that she half feared would crack a rib. His wife, Debbie, stood beside him. They’d married right after graduation, and Marilee still recalled how the tongues had wagged when Debbie gave birth only eight months after their wedding night. Debbie’s mother had declared to family and friends that the child was premature, despite the fact the newborn had weighed more than eight pounds. The couple had gone on to have a total of four children, ranging from eighteen months to sixteen years old.

“You look wonderful,” Debbie said, a toddler propped on one hip. “You’re going to have to give me your beauty secrets.”

Marilee wondered if they were simply trying to soothe her wounded ego, now that Grady had publicly humiliated her. “Thank you. I don’t believe I’ve met the latest addition to the Denton family.”

Debbie looked proud. “This is Ben, named after Irby’s grandfather. We call him Bennie.”

“Nice to meet you, Bennie.” She tried to shake his hand playfully, but he pulled away and buried his face against Debbie’s breasts.

“He’s shy,” Debbie said. “And a little spoiled.”

“Come on in the house,” Irby said. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Marilee followed, stepping over a toy car as she went. “No, thanks.”

Irby picked up the toy and handed it to his wife. “Honey, you’re going to have to tell David to keep his toys upstairs. I can’t have folks tripping over them when they come through the door.”

Debbie nodded wearily. “I’ve tried, Irby, believe me.”

He nodded sympathetically. “I know.” He looked at Marilee. “It’s not easy, a big family like ours living upstairs like we do, but it’s cheaper this way. We have the space, mind you, but the kids still wander downstairs from time to time. Debbie, would you watch the phones while I chat with Marilee for a bit?”

“Of course.”

Irby led Marilee through the reception area, passing several closed doors that she knew from experience were parlors designed for relatives to view their loved ones before burial. Antiques in dire need of polishing adorned the rooms.

“Here we are,” Irby said once they’d reached a paneled office. The furniture looked as though it had come from a garage sale. A computer sat on a battered credenza, the screen saver a scrolling marquee that read, People Are Dying to Come Here. “Have a seat, Marilee.”

“Thank you.” Marilee sat down and was met with what sounded like a giant fart. She leaped from the chair, and then frowned at the sight of a whoopee cushion. “Irby Denton, won’t you ever grow up!”

He looked surprised. “I swear I didn’t do it,” he said, rounding the desk and grabbing the cushion. He tossed it aside. “David, our ten-year-old, is obviously up to his old tricks.”

“And where do you suppose he learned them?” Marilee said, hands on hips.

Irby shrugged as though he hadn’t a clue. “I’ll tell you, the boy has no shame.” He looked remorseful despite one corner of his mouth tugging as though he would burst into laughter at the slightest provocation. “I should beat all of our children, but Debbie won’t permit it. That’s why they’re so spoiled.”

Marilee knew Irby wouldn’t beat a rug to rid it of dust. “Well, I hope I have no more surprises this morning.”

“I’m going to be on my best behavior.” He reclaimed his seat and shuffled through a mountain of papers on his desk. “I was…uh…sorry to hear about you and Grady. Debbie said I shouldn’t bring it up but if there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”

Marilee clenched her hands in her lap. “Thank you for your concern, Irby, but don’t worry.”

He cleared his throat. “This place is a mess,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. “My other assistant eloped two weeks ago, leaving me high and dry. Debbie and I haven’t had a chance to catch up with all the paperwork. You can’t imagine how thrilled I was when Leanne from the Job Service called to tell me you were interested in working here. Debbie and I both agree you’re perfect for the job.”

Marilee sat up straighter in her chair. “Um, Irby, before we go on, I’d like to know exactly what duties I’m to perform.”

Irby reached for an Atlanta Braves baseball cap and plopped it on his head. “Just seein’ that the place runs smoothly. Sometimes I might need you to fill in for me if I’m in the middle of something and can’t let go.”

“Fill in?” Her voice wavered.

“You know, hose down a body, stick ‘em in the goozle and drain the good stuff. Sew a few eyelids closed.”

Marilee paled instantly. She covered her mouth.

“Hey, I’m just having fun with you, Marilee.” Irby looked concerned. “Are you okay, honey? You can’t take things too seriously around here, know what I mean?”

“That wasn’t funny, Irby. Nor was swallowing that goldfish.”

“That happened a long time ago, Marilee. I’ve matured since then. Okay, maybe not as much as I should have, but I promise I’ll be serious from now on.” He put on a pair of reading glasses, as if that in itself would do the trick. “The main thing you have to do is cover the phones and know where to find me in case I have a body run.”

“Body run?”

“That’s not exactly how we refer to it in front of our clients. The correct term is body removal, but it means the same thing.” He reached back and patted the computer. “You know how to operate one of these babies?”

Marilee nodded. “I worked in the church office long enough to learn the basics.”

“Many of our clients have already made funeral preparations, and it’s all listed right here, down to the last detail. We even have pictures on file so Debbie can copy their hair and makeup. We want them to look as natural as we can.” He rolled his eyes. “Some of the ladies make arrangements beforehand to have their regular hairdressers come in, if you can believe it. I’ve never understood that, but I go along with it anyway. I reckon I ought to order some blue rinse and put a salon chair back there, only we’d have to strap ‘em in. Know what I mean?”

Marilee chose to ignore the remark. She desperately needed the job. “Will I be expected to meet with the families?”

“Sometimes. This is a funny business. We have weeks where it’s slower’n molasses running down a cold stovepipe, other times I don’t know if I’m coming or going. But you won’t have any trouble. You’ve helped folks through bad times before.” He reached for a folder. “Our fees are listed according to the needs of individual families. You’ll want to study this so you’re prepared.”

Marilee took the folder and glanced through it, noting the various price options. “What do you do in the event someone can’t pay in advance?”

“I know this sounds harsh, Marilee, but I insist the families pay up front. It’s not like I can go dig up someone if the family can’t cough up the rest of the money. Although I’ve threatened to on a few occasions,” he muttered.

“Sometimes you’ll get family members who want to send off a loved one in high style, and you know just by looking at them that they can’t afford it. You need to try and talk ‘em down as far as costs. And they want to stick the craziest things in the coffin with the deceased. One woman had us put her husband’s portable TV set in with him because she said all he ever did while he was alive was watch television.” He grinned. “’Course, I had to cut off his legs to fit the damn thing in there with him.”

Ignore, ignore, ignore. “Um, Irby?”

“Yes?”

She shifted in her chair. “Do you get many young people?”

His look sobered instantly. “Not often, thank God. They’re tough. Debbie won’t go near them, seein’ as how we have kids and all.” He paused. “That’s why you can’t take things so seriously, Marilee.”

Marilee suddenly realized why Irby joked so much.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. “We have a questionnaire we ask our new clients to fill out. Usually their minister has already been contacted, but in cases where the deceased wasn’t a member of a church, we have a couple of clergy who fill in when necessary. You’ll need information for the obituary.” He paused. “You play the piano, don’t you?”

Marilee nodded, wondering what one had to do with the other. “My mother insisted that all young ladies should know how to play.”

“In some cases, the family decides to hold services in our small chapel. You could pick up extra money if you played for them. Anywhere from fifty to a hundred bucks.”

“That’s more than I made teaching piano lessons,” Marilee said.

“It’s entirely up to you, of course.” He clasped his hands together at the back of his neck. “So, what do you say? You want the job or not?”

Marilee was surprised. “Just like that?”

“You’re the perfect candidate. I can start you at eight dollars an hour, which is more than I was paying my last assistant.”

It wasn’t a lot of money but to Marilee, who’d done volunteer work for so long without receiving a penny, it sounded good. “I’d like to give it a try. I promise to do my best.”

“I never doubted it for a minute. Now, let me show you around.”

“Show me around?”

“You know, in case you need to use the ladies’ room while you’re here. You’ll definitely want to know where the bathrooms are located.”

Once again, Marilee followed Irby. They reentered the reception area, where Debbie was bouncing Bennie on her knee and talking on the phone. Irby explained Marilee’s job duties, and then led her to three individual parlors, one of which held an assortment of flowers.

“This is where Mr. Elmore’s family will be receiving visitors this evening,” he said.

“Dan Elmore, who used to own the Plaza Theater?”

“The very same. I wish I had a dime for every time he caught me trying to sneak into the theater for free.”

“He was up in age, wasn’t he?”

“Almost ninety. But fit as a fiddle till the very end.”

“How’d he die?”

“Fell off a ladder while painting his house. His wife went all to pieces.”

“I can imagine.”

“Said she had to go and hire a painter to finish the job.” He glanced around the room. “Yes sir, there’ll be quite a crowd tonight. That’s why I’m putting Dan in room A. It’s our largest parlor.” He showed her the other rooms, one of which was considerably smaller. “This one is used mostly for private funerals or for those who don’t have many friends.”

Marilee thought of mean old Esmerelda Cunningham.

“And this,” Irby said, opening a set of double doors, “is the casket room.”

Marilee wasn’t prepared, and she took a step back. “Oh my.”

“It’s okay,” Irby said, cupping her elbow gently. “This is not a very pleasant room, but there’ll be times you’ll have to escort a family in here so they can pick out something for the deceased. Some people are very particular and want to know everything, others will leave it up to us. Just think of it as picking out an automobile.”

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Marilee said. She pointed at a bronze-colored coffin. “That one’s nice.”

“That’s our Cadillac of coffins, so to speak,” Irby said, leading her over. “Naturally, we put the nicest ones up front, hoping our clients will choose the most expensive.” He grinned. “Pretty vulgar, huh? But hey, I’ve got four kids to raise. Let me show you the satin lining inside.” He lifted the top section.

Marilee glanced down and saw what looked like skeletal remains. She was only vaguely aware of the baseball cap and hideous smile. All the blood drained from her face, and she let out a scream. She raced from the room, praying her knees would not buckle beneath her, and slammed into Debbie, almost knocking her and Bennie over as she scrambled toward the front door.

“What in heaven’s name!” Debbie said.

“There’s a…dead person in that coffin,” Marilee cried.

“Damn that Irby,” Debbie said, her expression dark and menacing. “He’s gone too far this time.” She grabbed Marilee’s hand. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s just a rubber skeleton.” Marilee was sobbing. Debbie shook her slightly. “It’s not real.”

“What?” Marilee realized she was hysterical.

“Irby Denton, get your sorry self in here right this minute!” Debbie shouted at the top of her lungs. “Marilee, sit down before you fall down.”

Marilee took a chair next to the front door in case she needed to make a quick getaway.

Irby appeared, looking sheepish. “Gee, Marilee, I’m sorry. I was just—”

“Just having a little fun, right?” Debbie snapped, causing Bennie to cry. “It’s not a damn bit funny, Irby, and I wouldn’t blame Marilee if she told you to shove the job up your behind.” She looked at Marilee. “Honey, do you need smelling salts?”

Marilee shook her head, feeling foolish now that she realized the skeleton wasn’t real. Nevertheless, it was a cruel trick on Irby’s part. She tossed him a menacing look.

“I should clobber you.”

“Go ahead and punch him,” Debbie said. “Lord knows he deserves it.” She tried to comfort the squalling child, even as she continued shouting at her husband. “This is a funeral home, not a playground!”

Irby looked contrite. “I promise it won’t happen again, Marilee. Do you still want the job?”

Marilee regarded him. He truly looked pitiful standing there. “I’ll take the job on a temporary basis, but if you try that sort of thing with me again you’ll be looking for a new assistant.”

Irby nodded, shamefaced. “How soon can you start?”