line it with the quilt our mama gave her for her wedding present and put her in her wedding dress. It’s just a little blue dress with white pearl buttons, and I’m to make sure that the pillow under her head has a case on it with embroidery that I did,” Sissy answered.
“Then that’s exactly what you should do. Flowers?”
“She wanted pink carnations like the corsage that Ralph bought for her on their wedding day,” Sissy said.
“Can I please buy those for her casket piece?” Tootsie had to swallow hard to get the words around the lump in her throat.
“She’d like that.” Sissy started to weep again.
Tootsie pulled a tissue from the container and handed it to her.
“I’ll be lost without her,” Sissy said. “She’s all that was left except me, and yet I’m glad that she’s not suffering anymore. I feel guilty for that.”
“You’ve heard of the seven steps of grief, right?” Tootsie asked.
“The hospice nurse gave us all the points when she started with us,” Sissy said.
“I’m only a few miles away, Sissy. I can be here in twenty minutes if you need me or if you want to come up to the house and spend some time away, either one.” Tootsie grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.
“Gloria couldn’t sing, and you sound like a three-hundred-pound trucker when you blow your nose or sneeze,” Sissy giggled. “Midge said that just yesterday when you called and said you were coming today instead of tomorrow.”
“She’s right about Gloria and me, but she was clumsy.” Tootsie laughed with her.
“Are we crazy?” Sissy asked. “Sitting here beside my dead sister and laughing?”
“She’s probably giggling with us, and I like to think that she’s doing it from the bottom of her chest and not wheezing for every breath anymore,” Tootsie said.
Sissy squeezed her hand. “Me, too.”
The laughter stopped, and more tears began. Tootsie pulled her hand free and said, “I’ll stay with you until the funeral home comes for her, and I can stay tonight if you want me to.”
“Two of the ladies from our Sunday-school class will be here as soon as I call them to help with the food that will be coming in. We’ll have a dinner here tomorrow after the services. They’ll spend the night and be here to take care of things in the morning while we’re at the cemetery. She’ll be buried in the Manchester Cemetery with Ralph and her children. The family will be together again.” Sissy patted Midge’s hand. “Her hands always get so cold. I have to remember to tell the funeral director that I don’t want her hands crossed over her chest. She needs to have them under the quilt.”
“We should write things like that down so we don’t forget anything. We should do everything just like she said.” Tootsie gestured for a pen.
Sissy opened the drawer of a bedside table and brought out a small notebook and a pen. “She liked to keep this handy to make notes.”
Tootsie flipped it open. “There’s nothing here now.”
“We tore out the last page she wrote on this morning before you arrived. It had a note to give you the box of letters. I guess that was her final message,” Sissy sighed.
Tootsie thought of Smokey’s final message. After Sunday dinner, he’d given her a hug, kissed her on the forehead, and said, “I love you, darlin’.”
Sissy removed her phone from the pocket of her shirt and called someone named Henrietta. Within five minutes, two ladies were at the house, and only a few minutes after that the funeral-home director was there to take Midge away. Tootsie walked beside the gurney all the way to the hearse, kissed her friend on the forehead, and told her goodbye.
She watched the vehicle pass her old red truck at the end of the driveway. One was taking away her last living childhood friend; the other was on the way to take her home. Luke bailed out of the truck and jogged across the yard. He opened his arms, and she walked into them.
“She’s gone.” Tootsie laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m the only one left of the three little girls who grew up together. I’m so glad that I came today instead of waiting until tomorrow.”
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
“You can wait right here. I need to go tell Sissy that I’m leaving. She’s got everything under control. Tomorrow morning at ten o’clock we need to be at the Manchester Cemetery for the service,” Tootsie