hand flies out, her finger pointing in the direction of the chaos we all just fled. “Then you can go deal with that man’s children, cuz I am done with this entire situation.”
Marie and I stand in silence, watching the father-daughter duo argue over which one’s gonna handle the fallout. I don’t say it, but my money’s on Hank. Whitney is a force to be reckoned with when she’s not angry—I wouldn’t dare going toe-to-toe with her right now.
“Well, while y’all figure this out, I’m just gonna take my uninvolved self back to the chapel.” I throw up a peace sign while making my way for the door.
“Wait!” Whit says, following me out into the lobby.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for assuming that was your fault.” She sucks her lower lip between her teeth. “I don’t handle stress well.”
“It’s fine.” I try rushing off again, afraid she’ll be able to sense my guilt and I’ll have no choice but to come clean about the real owner of that squirrel. But when she reaches out for my hand, stopping me in my tracks, I can focus on nothing else but the fireworks exploding inside my chest.
“It’s not fine. I was wrong, and I really am sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, any excuse to keep some form of contact between us.
“I don’t really have a lot of time right now.” She gestures with her head toward the viewing room. “But I know you’re off the rest of the week after today, and I don’t know what you’re doing on Thanksgiving, but we’re planning a little lunch…nothing big. It’s just us. Momma told me to make sure I invite you.”
“Your momma told you?”
Her cheeks flush. “She did…but I’d also really like you to be there…as a friend,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.
I dip my head in agreement. “Well, all right then. Guess I’ll be seein’ ya Thursday, friend.”
While Mom and I are elbows deep in turkey and mashed potatoes, a call comes in for us to pick up a body at a private residence. To make matters worse, the decedent is a friend of my father. The two played high school ball together and have remained close ever since. He’s been on hospice care for a few months, so everyone knew it was coming. Nevertheless, losing a loved one is always difficult, particularly so during the holidays.
“Y’all just stick around and finish up here. I can manage this one on my own.” Daddy kisses Mom on the cheek and Prissy on the top of her head. “I’ll try to be back in time for lunch, but if I’m taking too long, just go ahead without me.”
“As if,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You take as long as you need. We’ll keep the food warm til you get back.” When he leans in to kiss my forehead, I wrap my arms around my daddy’s neck, giving him a tight squeeze. Momma and Prissy join, cocooning the grizzly old man in an unsolicited group hug.
“Love ya, Paw-Paw.”
When he scruffs the top of his granddaughter’s head on his way out, I have to catch my breath at the rare gleam of tears shimmering in his eyes.
It’s difficult to see my seldom-ruffled father in so much pain. Today’s situation is a harsh reminder that no matter that this is a job and can become routine—that we can at times seem detached—none of us are free from basic human emotion. Not even Hank Daigle, the town undertaker himself.
He isn’t gone long when there’s a heavy knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Prissy sings, sprinting for the entryway. She’s really taken to our new employee in a way I haven’t seen from her before. She’s been on pins and needles awaiting his arrival since she rolled out of bed this morning.
“Happy turkey day, Miss Priss.” After not having seen Wyatt in nearly three days, the mere sound of his voice brings a smile to my face and a tingle of excitement zinging through me.
“Don’t think I didn’t just see that, Whitney Jean,” Momma taunts while stuffing the green bean casserole into the oven.
“What’re you goin’ on about?”
“I saw that lovesick smile of yours. You ain’t foolin’ nobody.”
“You hush.” I swat her on the bottom with the dish towel in my hand. “You saw no such thing.”
“How goes it, ladies?” tall, blond, and sexy asks, stumbling in with a stack of baked goods boxes in his hands and my child dangling from his left leg.
“Prissy!